ATTACHED

"If soldiers are punished before they have grown attached to you, they will not prove submissive; and, unless submissive, then will be practically useless. If, when the soldiers have become attached to you, punishments are not enforced, they will still be useless."

—Sun Tzu, The Art of War

—

NOVEMBER 28TH 2039

10:45PM

MONTANA

Maria picked a shirt up out of the river and shook it out. The wet fabric cracked loudly in the air with each snap. It wouldn't dry the fabric all the way, but it didn't matter. She needed to find darker colored clothing, and soon.

For all of them.

Thankfully, since she wasn't a blasted idiot, she'd stuck to darker colors from the start. Black or dark blue pants and shirts with colors so deep that any blood wouldn't show no matter how saturated the fabric might become. Not that she was the one eating like a goddamn slob.

She picked up one more shirt and wrung the water from it. The fabric popped a bit and she knew that she was stretching it out oddly, but she didn't care. She shook it out and tried hard to focus on not tearing it to fucking shreds.

The nine remaining men were still under her command, still obedient, but otherwise absolutely useless. There was nothing to be learned from this. No lesson to stumble across blindly. Maria had always known that being anything other than swift and harsh and eager to kill would make you a shitty leader. She had always led with an iron fist. No mercy. No kindness. No second chances.

And no goddamn washing clothes that she wasn't even going to fucking wear.

Maria could not wait until this was over with and she could kill these men. Useless, idiotic, and more frustrating than she could bear. She didn't care if the clothes in her grasp didn't fit Morgan or Travis; they had better fucking wear them anyways.

Jamie was at least competent. For a moment her mind drifted to a tracker she'd once known years ago and wondered where the hell he was. Someone with a competent tracking ability would have been intensely useful right about now.

With the two shirts crumpled in her fist she turned and started back toward the barn she'd left the newborns in. They were being extra careful now. This was not the south and the vampires that roamed these parts were docile but still untrustworthy. She did not know where Esteban had been sent, and she didn't know where the Volturi were hiding, or if they even still remained on this side of the world. She could take no chances at stumbling across anyone that wasn't the Major and his stupid coven.

Maria let herself feel her rage wholeheartedly during her run back to her pathetic army. She was tired of pretending to be kind. She was tired of not ripping their hands off when they reached for her or when they tried to help her over a goddamn river as if she were dumb and blind.

Connor was lucky that she hadn't killed him the instant he tried that this morning.

Thankfully Maria was good at what she did. She'd ignored him for the rest of the day instead of murdering him where he stood and god if she thought about it any further she might actually kill him when she got back.

She had to play the part though. Of the scared little woman afraid of someone who was after her. The helpless waif who needed big, strong men to protect her. Maria barely even needed to say anything beyond the simple cover story she'd crafted; the idiots had been all too eager to help. Once they'd been introduced to their newfound strength and abilities and the taste of blood they would've done whatever she requested even without her stupid story.

The only other information she'd provided was that her old friend—someone who would help—had a coven that was rather large and strange, but they were civil and they'd be forced to cooperate with Maria on some level.

The Cullens would owe her thirty thousand favors for the stupid muscle she was carting up north. Thankfully she wouldn't need to really manipulate them. The Major a little bit, maybe. But if she showed up all she had to do was drop the name "Esteban" and they'd be thanking her from their knees in the dirt.

She tried to calm herself down with daydreams of them groveling at her feet.

Not for the first time, she found herself wishing she'd found the Major already. There were very few things at which he was better than her, and there were even fewer things that she'd ever admit out loud, but he had always been the better tracker between the two of them.

Maria was still exceptionally capable, of course. But when he had her beat (and when it wasn't something that pissed her off) she would admit it.

Of course she would. She'd always been the more reasonable one between them.

Maria was decidedly not eager to see the rest of his family. Especially the crass, blonde wretch or the mouthy, irritating boy. She had been quite disappointed when they had been among the Cullens that hadn't taken the bait during their last meeting, and even more annoyed when they'd tried blaming everything on her. She scoffed, even thinking about it now.

As if the Major hadn't been more at fault than she was. It was utterly ridiculous. To be blamed for someone drinking blood? It was the stupidest thing in the world. They were lucky she hadn't killed any of them. Their guilt over human death was the most asinine thing she'd ever seen. Even more than their distasteful, yellow eyes.

"Do not track me down again," the Major had threatened, eyes delightfully red with his hand tight around her throat. His voice had shaken as fiercely as the arm that held her and she had basked in the newfound knowledge that she still had control over him.

Maria had grinned at him and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She hadn't been afraid even for a second. The visit had been confirmation enough of something she'd always suspected: he would never be able to act against her, and he would never truly change from the man she'd created.

Jasper never had it in him to kill her back in Monterrey and she'd known that he wouldn't have been able to do it in Calgary, either. With this new coven of his he was just a dog with a muzzle. A bomb with no wick. Hopefully they would believe her when she brought news of this trouble. It would be their funeral if they didn't.

Maria did not owe the Cullens anything. She did not owe the Major anything. But she would let them believe that perhaps this was an act of kindness. After all, she could've just left them to face Esteban alone. She could've just left them to die. With Maria around, they stood a chance.

And if they still died with her around, well. It was a price she was willing to pay.