Chapter 10: A Leech With A Name

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. I died in 1832 of dysentery. Whoops.

Dear Leah,

I tried that thing with the ginger, and your mom was right! About more than one thing, probably, but I can only attest to this one. For your other offer, I have to say no — for now. Stay on standby, will you?

I'm not mad at you for leaving without saying goodbye. I did have to pick up the mess, though. Jake wasn't entirely useless, but I wouldn't call him helpful, either. When we realized you ran, he went out with the boys to look for you, but you were long gone. He told me everything when he came back. I knew you wanted some space after the wedding, but I hoped you would come back sometime. I was worried about you.

You shouldn't feel like you have to apologize, Leah. You felt out of place, and it's partly our fault. I'm sorry we ignored you, and I should have been there for you. Because you're right, I DO know the pain, and I hope you know I'm in your corner.

And you DO deserve happiness! If you ever write me such a depressing letter again, I will burn it up and send you the ashes. Since when does living in the woods as a wolf for a few months make you unfit to be happy? I'd say you earned it. Aren't you tired of just surviving? We spent so long preparing for and fighting an undead army that I think you forgot that you were supposed to enjoy life while you've got it. I know I can't talk since I took it for granted, too. But it would be best to start living while you can.

That's just my opinion. I know it's impossible to follow that advice. It took me a long time to feel alive after the hole in my chest disappeared. And that was only after I threw myself off a cliff.

Are you sure you meant to write to ME for advice?

I'll always consider you my family — wherever you are and whomever you're with. I'm glad you met people who can be there for you while we're on these different paths. I didn't think you should be isolated for so long, so I'm relieved you found the people you needed. I know we weren't exactly the best family for you, but you'll always be welcome with me if you want to visit. I can't wait until we're old and gray, too. By then, I'll be done with pregnancy.

Can you also keep a secret for me if we're doing those? I think the baby is a boy. Please don't ask me why. It's just a feeling. Jake is hoping for a girl—typical man.

Keep me updated on the livestock situation; it sounds dire. (This is where I wish sarcasm could be heard through letters.)

Feel free to post this letter on a bulletin board somewhere if you want. I've got nothing to hide. That's why I sent it to you, with your big mouth.

Love,

Bella

Bella's letter got sent to Mel and Jack first, then found its way to me on Sunday when I saw them at church. Mel grabbed me by the shoulders and hugged me so tight I couldn't breathe.

"Oh, honey," she breathed in my ear. "I'm so glad to see you."

In truth, I'd forgotten all about the rest of the world while I was on the ranch. The first time I left the property, it felt like stepping out from under a bubble, and the whole world came rushing back to me. I remembered my letter to Bella, the Bar, the Peters, and the kindness they'd shown me—even when I didn't deserve it—and scolded myself for being so ungrateful to them.

I started visiting the Bar on weekends. Jack would toss me my old apron and have me bus tables. I was surprised at how pleased I was to be still accepted there. More than that, I realized how much I'd gotten to know the regulars, and they'd taken me in as one of their own.

But, of course, by caring for the silly, fragile humans in the bar, I'd shot myself in the foot again. The Bar reeked of a bloodsucker. The stench was like a feral cat with a yeast infection had pissed on all the furniture.

"Any new strangers come through?" I questioned Jack the first time I smelled it, trying not to wrinkle my nose.

Jack laughed. "Naw, you're still the only one," he chuckled.

I grunted, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning against the bar.

"Any of the regulars come in looking…." I trailed off, trying to think of a human explanation. "Weird?"

"Weird?" Jack repeated, raising his eyebrows.

"Like, I don't know," I huffed. "All pale, with sparkly skin, looking like they got plastic surgery?"

"You been in the sun too long?" Jack's voice had gone up a couple of octaves. "Do you need to sit down?"

"No," I sighed. "Forget it."

"Hey, Mel?" Noah called from his seat opposite me on the bar.

Mel's nose appeared at the hole in the wall between the kitchen and the front counter. "Yes, 'Suga?"

"I heard Larry's strawberry crop came in this morning—"

Before he could finish, a bowl of fresh strawberries was pushed over the counter, and he offered me one with a grin.

"I'm working," I snapped, my hand darting forward robotically to grab one of the juicy fruits and bring it to my mouth.

Despite my protests that I did not need an escort into town, Noah insisted on driving me to and from the Bar every weekend. He would stack chairs on late nights when I stayed to close up for the Peters. His cheery helpfulness was both annoying and endearing.

After closing, we'd help the Peters clean up the Bar. Then, they'd invite us upstairs to their fire escape for dessert and hard liquor.

"So," Mel began one night while Noah was in the bathroom, her eyes and smile widening mischievously. "How long are you going to let that boy follow you around like a lost puppy?" She asked, shooting me a knowing look over her thick glasses.

I blinked back at her, trying to go for an innocent expression. It probably looked more like I was having a seizure. Mel's lips curled in a Cheshire smile.

"Mama Ashwood told me a dog was drooling over you," Mel revealed. "I saw it myself after the sermon. You two lovebirds are so cute—"

"I'm gonna stop you right there," I interrupted. "Before you get your feelings hurt."

Jack howled in laughter, leaning over the side of his chair and holding onto his knees.

"You hear that, Mel?" He hooted. "Before you"—wheeze— "get your"—wheeze— "feelings hurt!"

"What's so funny?" I demanded.

"I was being delicate with you," Mel Peter replied, scowling over at her husband as he fell over, snickering into the grate of the fire escape. "You used to be so skittish. Mama Ashwood must've gotten you out of your shell," she surmised.

Truthfully, I knew why she asked. Noah had made a habit of sitting at the bar and trying to make conversation with me.

"Excuse me, miss?" He called me one afternoon, his mouth settling into a teasing smirk.

My heart fluttered irregularly in my chest.

"What?" I bit back, my voice harsher than I'd meant.

He didn't seem to notice. "Can I please get another Shirley Temple?"

I looked down at the full glass bottle in front of him. "What's wrong with that one?"

"It went flat."

"Because you didn't drink it."

"Right, but the cap was off."

"I took the cap off because I assumed you were going to, y'know, drink it," I argued, crossing my arms against my chest.

"Could you leave the cap on this time, then?" He asked, pushing the glass towards me with a wicked grin.

I didn't respond. Instead, I grabbed the bottle and replaced it with another.

"Hey, Leah," one of the regular barflies—Hank—called from down the bar. "This one's gone stale, too," he jeered, pointing towards his empty beer.

Without hesitating, I grabbed the empty bottle and slammed it against the counter, scattering shards of glass over the floor. I pointed the sharp end of the bottle at Hank, making him fall over the back of his stool in fright.

This wasn't the first time I'd threatened Hank with a broken beer bottle, so most patrons didn't flinch. I glanced back at Noah, suddenly remembering he was there. He'd taken the cap off his new drink and held it to his lips.

"Thank you," he murmured, avoiding eye contact.

Preparations were being made for the Harvest Festival. When I asked, Buck told me about how the Ashwoods were in the red financially.

"We collect ticket money from the Harvest Festival to make ends meet," Buck explained. "There's a donation jar at the ticket stand, too, but it's usually just our friends in town who put anything in it." He laughed. "Between me and you, though, we haven't been doing so well recently," he added, his voice lower.

"What do you mean?" I asked, turning my head to look down at the older man under furrowed brows.

"If we don't make enough this year, we may lose the ranch."

"How much is 'enough'?"

He turned to face me with a weary smile. "Too much," he sighed, sliding his hands into his jeans pockets. "That's why we're fixing the place for our best Harvest Fest yet."

I got recruited into the "clean up the ranch" effort. With Rosie strapped to her chest, Diana oversaw the business end—including the logistics and hurdles of setting up twice the typical number of vendors they'd ever needed to make ends meet—while Mama directed the many Ashwood children to make the land "presentable." Buck and Noah were responsible for dealing with the traveling circus' promoters, who were still upset about the hot-dog stand ordeal.

I assigned myself to leech duty. Every week or so, there was another slaughtered animal, completely pale and drained of blood, reeking of a bloodsucker. I tried staying up all night to catch it in the act, but I always picked the wrong night. In the morning, I would get dragged out of bed at dawn by Buck, who was oblivious to my nighttime excursions.

Under the cloak of night, I followed the scent in town, making a beeline for the woods until the trail petered out at the riverbank. It reminded me of what the redhead used to do, raising the thin human hairs on my neck. It was harder to stay human than usual because the scent was entirely new; I'd never encountered this parasite before, not even at the Ashwood farm. There were two leeches, and where there were two, there were bound to be more.

I was outnumbered. The only solace was I hadn't smelled them together yet. The leech in town and the leech killing barn animals didn't run together, which was one point in my favor.

So, as the weeks passed, I kept a vigilant eye on the ranch, but I didn't go looking in town for the other scent. If it didn't trespass on my land, I would have no reason to go looking for a fight.

Plus, there was no evidence this leech was hunting humans; there were only ever dead animals. It reminded me of the Cullens. This should've made me back off—it would break the treaty to attack one of them, even a new addition—but it made my blood boil. How dare they? First, they returned to Forks and triggered the werewolf gene, turning me into some mutant monster, and then they wanted to terrorize the ranch, where I'd run away to, to escape the effects of their presence? It was too much. In my mind, they'd already broken the treaty by messing with Bella. Sure, they hadn't bitten her, but they'd done irreparable damage. I had no qualms with killing one, should it cross my path.

Sam took issue with this. The more I shifted, the more present he became in the back of my mind, and when he heard this sort of treacherous thinking, it brought back his Alpha voice. Though he'd instructed us never to attack a Cullen, I could feel myself pushing against him.

But there was no proof this leech was a Cullen other than it ate animals. I was in the clear. Jake agreed with me, and so Sam reluctantly backed off.

The pack dynamics had started to shift when Jake and Bella returned. As Jake turned eighteen, he grew into a man, a father, a homeowner. Some part of my heart swelled with pride, while another bitter part was jealous, but an even more significant part wished the dynamics would change quicker—I was desperate for Jake to become the rightful Alpha and take away Sam's power over me.

It was a selfish dream of mine—for Sam to fall from grace and lose the honor of being the Alpha, technical Chief of the tribe. Everyone already knew he wasn't the final authority in the Tribal Council. Billy Black, grandson of Ephraim, was the true Chief, and it would fall to his son, Jacob, as soon as he reached his full potential.

The others caught me thinking this and started viewing Jake in a different light. He was no longer just their best friend; he was the de facto leader, naturally. As he grew into adulthood, his voice became more robust, his thoughts clearer in my mind than Sam's.

I already considered him our leader. It was just a matter of time before the others came around.

Now wasn't the time, though. Bella was going to pop any day now, and the Harvest Festival was only a week away.

So, I diverted myself with planning the Festival. I helped Diana distract the younger ones with crafts, making decorations while she made business calls. Mama Ashwood flitted around the kitchen in a frenzy, making things for the bake sale and getting ready to serve her world-famous chili at the food stand because the hot dog vendor refused to return.

Noah and Buck were meeting with the promoters for the last time before the rest of the circus was scheduled to arrive. We had already cleared out a field for them to park their trailers.

Rusty and I were the first to hear the truck's tires on the gravel driveway. I followed him through the door and onto the porch, then stopped with my hands on the porch railing, willing myself not to run out to greet Noah the way his dog did.

Buck stomped his muddy boots on the stairs up the porch while Noah was held up by the dog lapping at his face. Buck gave me a funny look as he passed.

"Were you waitin' here for us?" He asked, a knowing smile creeping up his cheek.

"No," I denied, crossing my arms. "I was keeping guard."

"Ah, right," Buck grunted. "How's the coyote situation, by the way?"

I turned to gaze at Noah so that Buck wouldn't see the raw, unbridled fear in my eyes. I gulped loudly.

"I'm working on it," I finally replied as Noah started racing Rusty to the porch.

Buck didn't answer but fixed me with a suspicious side-eye as Noah loped up the stairs with a carefree grin.

I felt a smile melt on my hardened poker face and unconsciously stepped forward to greet him.

He didn't look at his uncle. "Hey, Leah," he breathed.

I could smell honey and mint on his breath as it wafted over to me. Before I knew what was happening, his hand grabbed hold of mine. I squeezed back instinctively.

"Hi," I gasped, my voice higher than usual.

"Hi," he repeated, his smile becoming smaller though his dimples remained present.

"You said that already, kid," Buck interjected, slapping Noah on the back so hard he stumbled forward into me.

"Oh—shit—sorry—" he fumbled back onto his feet, then turned abruptly and went inside.

I shook my head to clear it. I'd gotten caught up in his eyes again. I felt like I could see all the way through them by now.

Buck followed his nephew, chuckling under his breath. "Mama! We're home!" He called as he stepped through the door.

I made sure there were at least two good lungfuls of air in my chest before I went back inside, where Mama was reaching under the counter and bringing out a familiar basket.

"Oh, Leah, honey," Mama sighed, hefting it onto the counter. "Would you return this to Mel Peter?"

She'd filled it with sweets—even more than Mel Peter had sent initially—so I had to pretend to have trouble lifting it.

"Noah!" Mama cried out when she saw my weak attempt at normalcy. "Why don't you carry it for her? Looks like Leah didn't eat her spinach today," she snickered.

That was how I ended up in the Bar that night, sitting at the counter with Noah, ordering two more drinks from Jack. I'd landed there on autopilot, like how people forget driving home from work. Sitting there and drinking with him, my imprint, the man I was tied to for the rest of my unnaturally long life, felt like an old habit.

For a moment, there was peace.

Until it ended.

The bell under the door rang as it opened, letting the autumn wind blow in with a hauntingly familiar, sickly sweet smell.

"Leech!" I hissed under my breath.

Jack's eyes went wide. "Ma!" He yelled, a smile breaking across his face. "Look who's here!"

Robotically, I grabbed Noah's arm and shoved him behind me, turning to face the enemy.

I recognized its smell from when I'd smelled it before in the Bar, but not from the Ashwood farm, so I didn't pounce immediately. The second thing holding me back was its eyes, the color of undercooked toast, signaling it didn't drink humans.

It was masculine in figure, with the tell-tale alabaster skin of a leech, but its skin was almost translucent, like an onion. His features were straight, and his movements were graceful but slower than most bloodsuckers. He seemed older and more restrained than any leech I'd seen before, even Doctor Dracula.

"What is that doing here?" I hissed.

"Who?"

"That thing that just walked in," I growled.

Noah put a hand on my shoulder, pushing down to try and get me to sit again, but he needed to hold me back as I shifted into a defensive stance after the leech took a step inside.

"You mean Haffa?" His voice rose with surprise. His voice had an edge, like his words held double meaning. "Oh, he's our local cryptid," Noah replied with a laugh, his shoulders rising and falling.

Noah kindly ignored my face as I went through the five stages of grief. He continued to explain. "He isn't from around here—like you—but he's been living here longer than anyone else in town. Lives in the forest, in a place he built. People out here respect that. Funny fella, too. Always telling crazy stories."

"Don't move," I warned him under my breath.

"What—"

Before I could think, I'd flung myself over the bar and launched into the bloodsucker, pinning it to the sticky floor. I'd held onto a knife from the counter, holding it up to its throat. I knew it wouldn't even touch its hard granite skin, but if it wanted to keep the Vultures off its back, it'd have to pretend it could in front of all the witnesses.

"She has a knife?!" I heard Mama scream from the counter.

"Who gave her a knife?" Someone else yelled.

"What do you want with us?" I growled, my entire body shaking with rage.

A smile cracked over its too-symmetrical face. "You seriously think you can kill me with that, mutt?" It whispered so low only I could hear.

The old slur the Cullens used to use sent me into a flying rage. Before I realized what was happening, I'd picked it up by the ears and flung the parasite out onto the dusty dirt road.

"What. Do. You. Want?" I demanded, kicking its shoulders with each word for emphasis.

My force did little to move the stone figure on the ground. It looked dazed, not expecting me to be able to throw him out, so I punched it in the face while it was still stunned.

"Leah!" Ma Peters cried from the threshold. "Get back in here now!"

The leech was back on its feet, shrugging off the dirt from its shirt. My fist shot out to strike again, but it caught me this time, using its unnaturally quick reflexes. It felt like punching a brick wall.

"You are strong," the bloodsucker remarked, dodging another kick aimed at his head. "You're not like the others around here." It tilted its head to the side with a curious expression.

"What are you?" It breathed loud enough for only those with supernatural hearing to hear.

I said nothing.

It took in a deep breath through its nose, then gagged. "I'd remember that smell if I'd met it before. You're like nothing I've ever seen before. Almost a werewolf, but more... pungent."

I stayed silent.

"Well, you already know what I am," the bloodsucker remarked before bending backwards to avoid my next punch. "But I was here first. I have been here for ages," it explained. "I was here before this land was settled and will be here long after it is annihilated. You're in my territory. Surely, a wolf can understand we may need separate territories for your own safety, of course."

"Safety?" I screeched, barreling towards it with a roundhouse kick. It quickly stopped me by grabbing my foot inches from its face. I kept my fists balled up at the sides of my face, my chest heaving, waiting for the leech to rip the pounding heart out of my throat.

But it didn't. To my surprise, it smiled.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot," it joked. "I'm Haffa. And with whom do I have the pleasure of sparring with today?"

I spat on its shoes in response. The crowd outside the Bar gasped.

"Don't toy with me, girl," the leech murmured. "I don't want to hurt you in front of your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend," I blurted automatically.

It raised a sculpted eyebrow. "Does he know that?"

"This isn't about him!" I hissed back. "I won't let you prey on these people. They're under my protection."

The bloodsucker looked me up and down, then laughed with scorn.

"And what a fine protector you've proven to be," it purred in a silky, chilling whisper. "Going after the wrong monster. And losing, at that." It tsked its tongue. "Would you like to have a drink?"

I wasn't sure which part of its statement to address first. My nose wrinkled in disgust at the idea of getting drunk with this parasite, but something about "going after the wrong monster" made me curious.

"I'll need more than one," I growled through my teeth, trying to fight my instincts to phase. "And you're paying for them."

"Why, of course," it replied, letting go of my foot. "I always pay for everyone's drinks when I come into town."

I looked up at it in unveiled shock.

"What?" It asked defensively.

"Is that how you lure your victims?" I accused, watching him walk up the stairs.

"Usually, I don't have to try so hard," it replied.

I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms.

Noah opened the door as Haffa went to open it. "Jack says you guys gotta stop scaring the customers, or you can't come back in," he informed us.

"I can certainly behave myself in such a respectable establishment as this," Haffa said in a dignified tone, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, I guess."

Noah rested a hand on my shoulder when I moved to pass him, like a warm beam of sunshine breaking through the clouds. My heart dropped into my stomach as I met his eyes, eager and ready to do whatever he needed me to. The reflex made me sick.

"C'mon, Lee," he coaxed, rubbing my shoulder with his thumb, sending waves down my spine that relaxed my balled-up fist. "Let's listen to what Haffa is saying."

I wanted nothing less than to sit in the Bar with a bloodsucker and listen to what it had to say, but for whatever reason, Bella's face popped into my mind. Without her knowledge of the leeches, we never would've stood a chance against the newborn army.

So I let Noah lead me back to the counter, but I refused to sit. I leaned against the bar with my arms crossed. I was so angry my entire head felt like it was boiling. I imagined the heat was frizzing up my hair.

The Bar was filling up as people filed back in from the road, an excited buzzing emanating from the crowd. More came in than had come out; word traveled fast in a small town, and from their curious expressions, it was clear they were all intrigued by the bloodsucker.

"So," Jack began pointedly, taking his place behind the bar, "what brings you out, Haffa?"

"Ahh," the leech sighed, staring down at its hands. "I don't have happy tales this time. I've been in love, ladies and gentlemen." It turned theatrically towards the growing crowd, which was listening intently.

"Not only have I been in love, but I've lost my love," it continued dramatically.

"I'd like to leave," I spat, grabbing Noah's hand without thinking about it.

"What?" Noah looked at me with disappointment, drawing down his eyebrows together.

"I'm sorry," I choked. "I have to go now."

"Why? He's not talking about you, is he?" Noah whispered accusingly.

My eyes narrowed into a glare, offended.

"Absolutely not," I snarled, ripping my hand out of his. "And I can leave without you. I have the keys."

I reached into my back pocket, where I'd tucked the truck keys after Noah started drinking. Not that I was planning to use a car.

I was about to burst out of my skin. The thought of being in the same room as a vampire for one more second was unbearable. My nose was stinging so badly I felt my eyes watering up.

"Wait," Noah argued, grabbing my hand as I turned to leave. "Don't go. Please."

I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat. "You don't know what you're asking me to do."

"I know it won't kill you to have another drink," he replied. "C'mon, Leah, stay a little longer."

Noah's eyes were hypnotizing, and even though my nose was burning, I nodded and sat next to him at the bar.

A/N: Ahh! I didn't wanna leave a long ass note at the top cause I wanted to get to the action, but we've finally made it, my dudes! Enough of the world-building and character development! I wanna see some PLOT!

I brought Bella into this mess because how could I not? She and Leah are sisters from another mister. Hoes before bros, amirite, ladies? And I found such a fantastic font for her handwriting then realized NONE of it gets carried over on this website, so I wasted that afternoon. What a disappointment. Oh, well. Can't have your cake & eat it too, I'm afraid.

Anyway, on the topic of cake, we learn (a little) about Haffa's tragic anime backstory in the next bit, so brace yourself for some vamp action. I debated whether or not to add the bloodsuckers, then decided it was essential to Leah's Growth. Don't fret, though; I didn't just pepper in a bunch of vampire OCs for no reason. The Cullens may or may not make an appearance at some point. Idk. We'll see how I'm feeling.

If you've read this far, I owe you more than I can currently pay ('cause I'm in debt) but expect an IOU in the mail. As always, I encourage you to comment/review/tape to the inside of your locker door/chant this in the ancient language. With each review, I am given strength, and one day, I will be able to defeat the whole galaxy, mwahahahaahahaha *maniacal laughter*