I've been stuck at home this weekend with a cold, which means plenty of time to read and write. Thanks to those of you who have followed, favorited, and left comments.

Per usual, Twilight is owned by Meyer. I just make them flirtier.

Let's meet this AU's version of Edward, yes?

CHAPTER FIVE

The scent of black tea and amber drove her to where red brick buildings lined both sides of the street, where bridges empty of traffic crisscrossed the cloudy evening sky. Drizzle painted the sidewalks and buildings, making the South Side look like a Kandinsky painting. The droplets dripped down the back of her jacket, felt slightly cool against her already cold skin. Far away, she heard thunder roll.

His scent was stronger here - she must be right on his heels. Bella began scanning the street, listening intently through the pitter-patter of the rain on the rooftops for a voice, a whisper of clothing moving.

Alice had told her it would be easy to sneak up on him - he relied too heavily on his gift and she would be a surprise - in his hundred years or so of being a cold one, he had never met a mind he couldn't read. Because of this, he would not notice her if she stayed downwind and remained quiet, blended in with the sounds of the city at night. The sound of a car backfiring made her pause in her search. Yelling in the distance.

Carefully, softly, she climbed to the rooftop of an empty building - the storefront vacant and locked tight - to get to a better viewpoint. The wind whipped her hood off, sending her damp hair out behind her. She watched as a female police officer approached a man, his hoodie drenched and his body racked with shivers. Water trickled off the brim of the officer's hat.

The scent of him was strongest here. The sound of the rain swelled as it grew, a staccato beat on the rooftops and cars that mimicked the sudden anxiety in her silent chest.

Staying very still, Bella searched for him in the darkness of the many alleyways. Lanky but not ungraceful, he emerged, bronze hair matted to his head from the deluge.

He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Like a panther, he moved fluidly: A predator.

Her dead heart skipped in her throat and she felt it - the thin red cord that tied them together. She gasped at the firm tug inside her belly, dropping down into a crouch to remain unseen.

Unbeknownst to her, his head had whipped toward the building's roof, a similar sensation echoing inside his own empty chest. He froze in his tracks for a moment, listening intently for thoughts he would not hear, before he shook his head and resumed his hunt.

It took Bella several moments to clear her mind. The whole bus ride here, she had refused the Fates. She did not need to accept her mate - she would not be Fortune's fool.

Yet she had to admit to herself that she was curious, and it would be helpful to have someone help her with James… And Alice, if she was being honest with herself.

Clearly, she wasn't being honest with herself. The truth, hidden and tucked deep inside, was that she craved him and everything he represented. She calmed her breathing by listening intently to his measured, sure steps on the wet pavement.

When she regained her footing literally and metaphorically, she crept back to the edge of the rooftop, and she saw that he still taunted his prey - the officer - circled her like a buzzard.

Curious, Bella schooled her face and dropped down gracefully, her boots sloshing in the puddle as she hit the ground. Water splashed her yoga pants, soaking her to the bone. He spun around, his eyes pitch black, moving up and down over her body.

An angel of death.

She expected a growl - it was only natural, instinctual. Instead, he met her eyes, tilting his head at her and his full lips pulled down into a frown.

Deciding to make the first move, Bella smirked and gestured to the officer, who was now backing slowly down the alleyway, her hand on her gun. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it isn't polite to play with your food?" She meant to sound chiding, but her voice came out unsure.

He smirked back, dipping his head at her. Water dripped off the hard planes of his jaw. "It has been a long while since I have been in polite company." His voice was also low, almost suggestive. Something deep in her gut curled.

Behind him, the officer approached the mouth of the alley.

With effort, she kept her voice bored. "It seems she's getting away."

He bowed dramatically and winked. "Pardon me."

Having not fed herself in quite some time, Bella leaned against the nearest wall and held her breath, restrained, yet trying to appear nonchalant and unbothered. She crossed and uncrossed her ankles nervously.

In this way, she watched him snap the woman's neck, his full lips parting as he sunk his teeth into the jugular and drained her, never once taking his eyes off of Bella. It sent something in her aflame.

When he finished, he tossed the body into the nearest dumpster, pulled a small plastic carton of fire starter out of his coat pocket, and squirted it over the edge. Lighting a match, he flicked it in with a flourish. The dumpster caught, an enormous fire erupting. The light danced along the slick brick walls, illuminating the raindrops in his hair like diamonds.

Bella could see the frenzy in his now crimson eyes and knew she needed to tread carefully. She had heard that bloodlust made the bond - the want - stronger in males. Grinding her teeth together, she set her jaw and recrossed her ankles in what she hoped was a casual manner.

He stalked toward her, his feet thudding on the pavement until he was less than a foot away. She angled her head up to look at him, the rain dripping down her face in rivulets. She wondered vaguely if she looked like a drowned rat. Tracking the movement of his Adam's apple, she tried to focus as he cleared his throat. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" His baritone voice was smooth like velvet. The back of his hand caressed hers gently once; her breath caught in her throat. She took a step back and he raised his eyebrows in mock offense.

"Bella," she stuck her hand out purposefully, formally, desperate to maintain some control.

His mouth twitched at the corners, at her formality. "Edward," he shook her hand, holding it longer than necessary. She felt his thumb rub a circle on her skin, leaving tingles in its wake.

"Are you always such a flirt?" She blurted, yanking her hand back.

"You wound me, sweet Bella." Edward placed his hand on his chest and pouted. The sound of her name on his lips made her chest tighten. He leaned into her space again; Bella moved backward until he had her crowded against the wall. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" He enunciated, and she stared at the way his lips formed around the words, inches away from her own lips. Her fingers twitched in expectation.

Pursing her lips, Bella made a show of considering his inquiry. Was he? Not really, no. His proximity made her stomach flutter in a way she had never felt. She shook her head minutely.

"Why can't I hear you?" He asked softly, tapping her temple much like Alice had two days ago.

"Hear me?" She was going for confident but it came out as a squeak.

His brow furrowed. "I can hear thoughts. Just not yours, it seems."

Right. She wasn't thinking straight. "I'm a shield," she whispered hoarsely.

He hummed low in his throat. "Interesting. I wonder…" Edward looked behind him and held out his hand in invitation. "People are noticing the fire. Walk with me." She placed her hand in his and he interlaced their fingers.

They began walking swiftly, their feet splashing rhythmically on the pavement. He squeezed her hand thrice and if Bella's heart still beat, it would be fluttering. She tried to gather her thoughts, but they couldn't move beyond the feeling of his skin on hers. His fingers were long and lithe and she pondered absentmindedly of piano keys. Of dreams she had had while lying next to another man.

A few blocks away, he pulled her to a gentle stop under the awning of a hardware store that was shut up for the night. He looked down at his feet for a moment. And then he smiled crookedly at her. "If I profane thee with my unworthiest hand..."

Bella snorted, and his smile widened. It lit up his serious face.

His eyes moved up her body, danced across her face - from her eyes to her lips and back. "This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this…" He moved forward to place his lips right by her ear, they grazed her skin as he started the next line and an involuntary shiver crept up her spine. "My lips…"

Bella slipped out from under his arm, a smile dancing across her features, as she began walking backward. "Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hands too much…"

"Bella…" he groaned as lightning lit up the empty street, the thunder and the rumble in his voice shaking her to her core.

"Romeo, really? You'll have to do better than that." She winked playfully at him.

He mouthed a dirty word but did not speak it aloud. She raised an eyebrow.

He smiled sheepishly. "Pardon my language."

"You're allowed to say fuck." Bella quipped, drawing out the profane word, dragging her teeth across her bottom lip at the start of the curse.

His eyes darkened as he tracked the movements of her lips, pupils blown so wide they swallowed his scarlet irises. "My mother taught me never to use foul language in front of a lady."

"Maybe I'm not a lady."

"I beg to differ." He remarked.

She began walking faster down the street, her eyes still tracking him.

"Bella," he called. "This is going to sound like absolute malarkey… but I think you might be my mate." He placed his hand over his heart dramatically again. She bit her tongue as she tried very hard not to laugh at his word choice.

Edward had yet to move toward her, and she was now half of a block away from him. "What makes you say that?" She called back, struggling to keep her voice even and aloof. A small part of her realized that she was having fun for the first time in a long time.

He smirked and raised one eyebrow at her lasciviously. "Do you want proof?" His thumb slipped into the top of his soaking jeans.

It was tempting to push him, but she didn't know how the creature within her would respond, and it was difficult at times to hold it back. She had lost so much agency over her life that she wanted to wholeheartedly choose this. So, she laughed, throwing her head back.

As if drawn to the sound, Edward began following her, his walk smooth and feline. She felt a tug in her belly and was compelled to stop, to wait for him to catch her. Lightning flashed, illuminating his sharp, angular jaw, straight nose, and full lips.

They stared at each other for a long time, both standing in the middle of the dark street, the architecture crumbling around them. They stood in the pounding rain until it slowed to a soft patter, always keeping respectful distance between their bodies. But between them, the air was charged, crackling with electricity.

"I have a place not too far from here." Edward finally spoke as thunder rumbled off in the distance.

She cocked her head, her wet hair falling into her eyes. "Is that an invitation?"

"Oh, doll… you don't need an invitation." He smirked again.

She shook her head and snorted. "You know nothing about me."

He shook his head, his face turning serious. "I would like to know everything."

Eyes open and sincere, he held his hand out to her once more. She wavered between wanting to remain stubborn and wanting to be open minded. Finally, she placed her hand in his, their skin buzzing at the contact, and he began pulling her through the vacant streets.

~~~~

After running to a parking structure in the heart of downtown Chicago, he guided her, his hand hovering over her lower back, to a sleek, black Ford Mustang from the '60s.

"You have a car?"

"It would seem so." He joked, opening the passenger door for her.

She tossed her backpack in the back seat. The leather seats squelched as she sat in them, her boots pooled water on the floor. "Sorry." She muttered as he slid into the driver's seat.

"No need to apologize for being wet around me."

She rolled her eyes. "That was subpar."

He barked a laugh. "I usually have more time to come up with something witty." He tapped his temple twice.

"Looks like you might be out of practice then."

The engine roared to life. "Oh, I might be new at this, but I am quite sure you could teach me a few things. I'm a quick learner."

Before she could retaliate, Edward flicked on the radio and Ella Fitzgerald's voice filled the space.

"I'm sure I could," she mumbled and mentally berated herself for not coming up with something more witty.

Edward huffed, leaning over the console toward her. He pushed his thumb over her lower lip, pulling it from between her teeth. His fingers brushed her jaw, leaving a trail of warmth against her skin. "Don't make me crash this car," he whispered.

"We have supernatural reflexes. You'll figure it out."

"And if I don't? If you're that distracting?" His eyebrows rose in question.

Bella rolled her eyes. "Let's get moving. I would kill for a shower."

He shook his head in mock horror, throwing the car into reverse. The tires screeched against the wet pavement as he sped out of the parking garage and into the street. He muttered to himself, "So she won't crack for poetry or overt flirting?"

Bella smiled. "No."

"I'll keep trying, then."

"Is that a promise?"

Another crooked smile. "Always."

Between the rain and Edward's driving, the lights of Chicago blurred beyond the windshield. She let her eyes unfocus and thought about the strange feelings brewing in her chest. She was having fun joking with him and she struggled to remember the last time she had laughed genuinely. A little voice in the back of her head reminded her of Jasper, of Alice, of María and James. She shoved that voice behind a door, and then a brick wall for good measure. With Edward, in this moment, Bella didn't have to be anyone but herself.

They sped southeast until they hit the outskirts of Kankakee State Park, both lost in their thoughts. He pulled off on a gravel drive, slowing considerably as the car bumped along for a few minutes, until he parked underneath a willow tree.

Reaching back to grab her bag, she heard the driver door open, close, and then Edward was helping her stand by the passenger door. "So you do have manners." She remarked.

"My mother taught me how to treat ladies. Those manners are definitely resurfacing."

He pulled her through the treeline and helped her over fallen logs, holding branches back until a small clearing emerged, a shabby building just ahead.

"This looks like a murder shack," Bella murmured. Why did every vampire have to live somewhere dilapidated?

"Well, we are monsters, aren't we?" His smirk didn't touch his eyes.

She wanted so badly to refute that, but the words wouldn't form on her lips.

Edward held the door open for her. The shack smelled like him: amber and steeped black tea with a hint of chai spices. It was one room - a battered desk and chair faced the west wall under the window. A black futon was open in front of the fireplace, books strewn about. She picked up a few, reading over the titles as Edward moved to light the fireplace along the southern wall.

Bella pulled her jacket off and hung it along the back of the desk chair, setting her backpack against the door. Her yoga pants, still soaked from the storm, stuck uncomfortably to her legs. "Do you mind if I change?"

"Of course not. There's a working shower, but the water won't be hot - it's just collected rain water, so it won't last long either…" Edward remarked distractedly, picking a loose thread off his shirt.

She crossed the room to open her backpack - she could feel Edward's gaze on her as she pulled out another pair of leggings. Her other clothes were damp.

"Do you need dry clothing?"

"Just a shirt."

He was smirking again when she turned to him, his tall form leaning against the fireplace. "I wouldn't mind if you want to walk around without one." He enunciated each syllable to make his point clear.

She ignored him, thankful she couldn't blush. "Can I borrow one?" He turned, unfazed, to riffle through a small chest of drawers that she hadn't noticed before. A CD player sat on top, a precarious pile of album cases next to it. The drawer creaked as he closed it; he moved toward her purposefully, handing her a navy sweatshirt. She refused to meet his eyes, feeling suddenly exposed under his gaze.

She mumbled her thanks as she retreated to the bathroom to shower and change, thankful for the door between them that allowed her to breathe.

As she climbed into the too cold shower stream, she prayed that the water would cleanse her, break her down, and remake her into something she could be proud of - not just someone powerful and skilled, but someone soft and loving. She watched the soap suds cascade down her body and imagined for a moment that she could stay here - that she didn't need to return to María or answer to Alice or fulfill an unspoken promise to Jasper… in her mind, she pictured herself walking out of the bathroom, a towel around her head, and Edward would be playing a CD. They could sit on the floor together in front of the warm fire and read until the sun rose, then they would fall asleep in each other's arms.

The water abruptly ran out, leaving her skin colder than normal and pebbled with chill.