I think this might be one of my top ten favourite chapters I've written in this story so far. I'm crossing my fingers that you all like it as much as I do.
Big thanks to my beta extraordinaire, Saritadreaming. If anything is amiss, that's on me. I tend to make last-minute changes. To all of you reading, I appreciate the heck outta you guys.
Prey for the Wicked
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Chapter 28
Kausuas
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Leah hurries up the steps. Behind her, Bella resists the urge to tell her to slow down and be careful. As of now, Leah is no longer her responsibility.
When Edward opens her front door, the hollow ache in Bella's chest melts away. As though it beats to the rhythm of his will, her traitorous heart skips a beat before settling into a pace that betrays her feelings.
Edward holds the door open for Leah, who darts past him, twisting her body to the side to avoid contact. If he notices, he keeps it to himself, too busy pinning Bella in place with a stare that feels predatory.
He allows the door to shut, then consumes the space between them, crashing into her orbit like a shockwave. There's a moment when the logic centers of her brain think, "Run." Then he lifts his hand and cups her cheek, and the thought changes to, "Stay."
When his fingers drift to her jaw and then glide down her neck, her nerve endings ignite.
He rests his thumb on her tattletale pulse before moving his hand to cup the nape of her neck. He draws her close and leans down, his forehead meeting hers when she tilts her face up to him.
Her name is a whisper filled with air her lungs didn't know they craved. "Isabella."
Her exhale is shaky, and she hears him inhale with a low, satisfied sound in his throat. She curves her hands to his biceps, gripping tight, finding her anchor in the sedated strength under the surface of his skin. Sensing he is mastering his impulses excites her in a way that defies explanation. All she wants and needs is to get closer.
There's a dizzying rush of movement as Edward takes her by the waist and lifts her to the porch railing. The second she registers the paint-flecked wood beneath her thighs, he moves closer, claiming the space between them with his body. He braces her, and she finds it hard to breathe with his hands just above her hips.
Edward repeats her name with a possessive note, so intimate it hurts. Goosebumps prickle across the surface of her skin as she tries to read his expression. She needs to touch him, and she does, cupping her palm along the firm edge of his jaw.
It's a freeze-frame moment. There is nothing human about the eyes looking back at her. Perched in a way that should be precarious given the age of her porch, she shouldn't feel safe. Especially with her congested blood humming through her veins, craving the darkest kiss.
"Rough night?" she asks him, a breathy catch to her voice as she tries to get her bearings. She doesn't have to ask about Jake. She can hear him through the flimsy screen, though she can't make out what he says.
"Perhaps not as rough as yours, lamb."
He stops her attempt to say anything else by catching her chin. Her hair tumbles down her back, dislodged from her hair-tie by a movement he made that she didn't register. His thumb skims over the skin beneath her lips, studying her like he is searching for answers to questions he hasn't asked.
The furrow between his brows draws Bella's attention. She touches those lines lightly with her fingers. "I'm fine, Edward."
The reassurance loosens the tension in his posture, and the frown fades. She wonders what his concern means. Is he afraid of his toy getting broken? Or is Leah's theory somehow accurate?
Bella's stomach twists as she plummets back into confusion. She drops her hand to his chest and applies pressure to urge him to move away. She takes advantage of the space he grants to slip down from the rail, needing to stand and regain her self-control because all she wants now is to crawl under his skin and stay there.
It's not a second too soon. The screen door behind Edward slams open hard enough that Bella is sure the frame will crack as it rocks on squealing springs.
"What did you do to Jake, you parasitic vulture?"
Bella's already frayed nerves light up with Leah's screech. She grips Edward's shirt in her fist, hoping to force him to stand in place, unsure how long he'll continue to play nice.
Leah keeps yelling. "He's barely coherent."
Edward gently pries Bella's fingers from his shirt, giving her hand a soft squeeze, which she thinks is meant to reassure her. His tone, in contrast to Leah's, is calm. "Lower your voice, please. Let's discuss this inside."
Still holding Bella's hand, he leads her inside the house, Leah hot on their heels.
"You said he was fine. He's so not fine!" Leah flings out her arm, dramatically encompassing the mess that is Jake slumped awkwardly on the sofa. She wrings her hands, keeping her distance.
Edward sits on the edge of Bella's coffee table and effortlessly jerks Jake upright, lightly smacking his cheek. "Are you awake, whelp?"
"No. Fuck off," Jake mutters groggily.
"Is he drunk? Did you get him drunk?" Leah asks, her eyebrows rising high enough that Bella thinks they'll hit the widow's peak of her hair. Sinking into the old recliner, Leah exchanges eyebrow gymnastics for nail biting.
"He's not drunk," Edward grinds a knuckle into Jake's chest, making him jerk like a disjointed puppet.
"Damn it, leech. I'm trying to sleep here. I feel like crap. Knock off the poking shit."
Still addressing Leah, though his attention remains on Jake, Edward says, "You are aware of the rapid healing attribute of his kind?"
"That's what this is?" Leah, unsurprisingly, bounces back out of the chair.
Bella ignores her in favour of asking, "He's hurt? What happened?"
Jake blinks at Bella, resembling a tired owl. "Your bloodsucker broke a rib. Or two. Maybe three. Tossing me over his shoulder and carting me off like a sack of potatoes." He says potatoes by breaking it up into three distinct syllables. Poe. Tay. Toes.
"More like a sack of boulders," Edward mutters under his breath.
"So, you did lie to me! You said you didn't hurt him!" If scowling were an art form, Leah has it perfected.
Jake waves a hand carelessly. "Relax, Leah. I'm fine. Besides, I'm not the only one hurt, isn't that right, Dracula?"
Edward rolls his eyes.
Bella watches the interplay between them, stunned.
"C'mon, Vincent Van Coffin, roll up that sleeve. Show them the damage." Jake attempts a grin, then exchanges it for a wince.
"You're hurt, too?" Bella looks over Edward, confused. He seems fine, while Jake resembles someone who has been through a war.
"Nothing consequential," Edward answers. There's a sudden displacement of air where he's there, then not, then back again, somehow holding her bathroom trash bin.
Jake lurches to an upright position. "I think I'm going to puke."
Edward shoves the bin under Jake's chin as his ruddy complexion pales. Jake tries to push it away. "Nah, wait, false alarm…"
Keeping it in place, Edward says, "It's inevitable, mutt. Give in to it."
On command, Jake wretches, and Leah gags. "Oh, gross. I can't watch this." She's out the door and back on the porch just in time.
Not a fan of vomit herself, Bella leaves the room to get a washcloth and towel. When she returns, Edward is tying up the garbage bag without any expression of disgust.
Bella takes the spot on the coffee table that Edward vacated and gently wipes Jake's face. The heat coming off of him is alarming. She folds the cloth to the clean side to press it to his forehead, and he leans into her hand with a grunt of pleasure.
Pitching her voice low to avoid getting Leah riled up again, Bella asks, "What is this, Edward? He's burning up."
"His immune system is in overdrive. Shapeshifters are not impervious to injury. To compensate, their cells undergo rapid regeneration to heal within a few hours. Unfortunately, he'll feel every bit of it for the next twenty-four hours."
Bella nods. Bits and pieces of the lore she's picked up over the years fall into place.
"I didn't hurt him intentionally, Isabella." Edward matches her lowered tone. "I needed to get him away from you. His instinctual nature was not rational."
"Is that why he pushed me?" Leah is back in the doorway, looking almost as pale as Jake.
"Yes," Edward answers. "Even though he cannot phase into his wolf form, it seems he can access the traits of speed and strength. He'll need to work on his control."
"I pushed her? I don't remember doing that." Jake opens one eye and then promptly closes it. He takes the cloth from Bella's hand and reorients it to the back of his neck.
"Well, you did, whether you remember it or not," Leah tells him.
Jake sighs. "Yeah, but you're all right, judging by all the yelling."
Leah quits worrying about witnessing Jake throw up and storms back into the room. "All right? I just left the hospital, Jake, against medical advice! You almost hurled me into the car. If it wasn't for the damn vampire catching me, I could be dead. I'm pregnant! God knows what's going on with this kid I'm carrying inside of me."
Jake sits up and tosses the cloth on the table. He glances at Edward speculatively, then back at Leah. "So, you should still be at the hospital? Why aren't you there?"
Leah crosses her arms over her waist. "It's too risky. We don't know what'll show up in blood tests or on an ultrasound. This isn't a normal pregnancy."
"Leah—"
"Don't start with me, Jake." Leah snaps. "This is your fault. We wouldn't be here right now if you weren't the one constantly playing superhero to rescue your ex-girlfriend!"
"Yeah, well, since you didn't bother to tell me you were pregnant, forgive me for thinking Bella's life being in danger might be the priority." Jake grates this out between clenched teeth. Whether he's mad or trying not to throw up again is debatable.
"That's my point. Bella is always the priority. Getting your attention is impossible."
Jake leans forward, gray complexion morphing to a dark shade in the sunburnt-red colour pallete. "That's bullshit. I admit I've been distracted, but a 'hey, Jake, I'm pregnant' takes two seconds, and it'd sure as hell get my attention. Instead, I had to find out from the walking undead over there. Thanks for that."
Leah looks away, lips pressed into a thin line.
"Did you think I couldn't handle it? That I'd jilt you? I don't work like that, Leah, and you know it."
Leah scoffs. "Oh yeah, I know." She jerks her chin in Bella's direction. "Case in point right here, Jake. But guess what? I don't want to be your responsibility when she's your world!"
For a long minute, an uncomfortable silence reigns in the room.
"It isn't like that, Leah," Bella says when she can't stand the quiet any longer. "Jake's been trying to help. It doesn't mean what you think it does."
"Like you know what I think? Why don't you just be quiet." Leah delivers the advice with ice in her tone.
Elbows to his knees, Jake rests his forehead against his palms, fingers sticking up like a fan. "I don't have the energy for this."
Bella sinks into the chair Leah abandoned, feeling the same. If Leah hasn't figured out that Jake is overly protective and loyal to a fault when it comes to the people he cares about, there isn't anything she can say to help her.
She looks for Edward and finds him turned away and standing at the window, curtains pulled to give him an unobstructed outside view. The straight line of his back offers no clue about his thoughts, which is probably a good thing.
Jake exhales roughly and manages to stand. "This isn't the time or place for this discussion. Let's get you home, Leah. You need to get off your feet."
"As if you care." Leah misses the mark on sounding tough.
Seeing the tears gathering in Leah's eyes, Bella pushes herself out of the chair, despite wanting to curl up in it, and makes herself go to Leah's side. "Jake's right. You need to get off your feet. Get something to eat and rest. You have to be exhausted."
Leah looks like she's trying not to cry. Her stance softens, and she nods. "Yeah, I guess. God, I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm all over the frigging place."
"It's been a long night." From her peripheral vision, Bella thinks she catches Edward nod, but she can't be sure.
Behind her, Jake's balance suddenly fails. He sinks back down to the couch like someone kicked his knees out from behind. "Crap. I'm dizzy."
"You're not in any shape to take her anywhere, Black." Edward leaves the window and goes to help Jake up. "I'll drive you both home."
"I don't need your help, Cullen. And you can't go on our land, in case you forgot." Jake shoves away and nearly topples over head-first.
"Did you not learn your lesson earlier, pup?" Edward catches Jake by what's left of his tattered t-shirt and keeps him from bashing his nose off the floor.
"I am choosing to forget." Jake lets Edward pull him upright, then braces himself on the arm of the couch.
"Clearly," Edward replies dryly. "Okay. Let me demonstrate a second time. Or is this the third?" In one sweep, Edward flings Jake over his shoulder, balances him with one hand, and marches out the door. The sense that her world has taken an even bigger turn into the surreal has Bella wondering if she should laugh or cry.
"Damn it, bloodsucker. I think you just broke another rib."
"You'll heal, were-mutt. You'll heal."
. . . . . .
In the car, Edward adjusts the driver's side AC vents to aim frigid air in his direction, hoping to blow the overpowering musk of Black out of his sinus cavity. It's not working. If anything, it makes it worse. The mutt is sweating wolf pheromones out of every pore, turning the car interior into a humid tempest that rivals a large-scale dog grooming establishment.
He presses his foot harder on the gas. The sooner he reaches the border to Quileute land, the better.
Isabella shivers in the passenger seat. He snaps the vent closest to her shut because turning it off isn't an option. He doesn't need Black sustaining brain damage from his overheated state.
As if she agrees, Bella reopens it. "It's fine," she says, just as the dog launches a new garbled complaint about how hot he is.
"Ew! Jake, you're sweating on me." Leah has been silent since she called her mother to let her know they were on their way. Her thoughts allow Edward to monitor her and ensure she isn't experiencing any physical symptoms. Her emotions are another story, however. He does what he can to keep his focus on Black and give her privacy. It isn't difficult, given that Black is slipping in and out of consciousness. His creative reel of fever dreams provides some distraction.
Like always, Isabella's mind is a peaceful oasis of silence, though she's not hard to read if one knows what to look for. Her teeth, worrying relentlessly at her lower lip, give away her anxiety.
Rounding the curve in the last stretch toward their destination, Edward turns all his attention to the frantic conversation between three people waiting for their arrival.
"When they get here, you let me talk to the cold one."
Edward can tell this order comes from Billy Black, the father of the sweating lycanthrope ruining the leather on his backseats. Unlike Jake, Billy is deeply rooted in the shapeshifter ideology. Edward detects hidden resentment that the gene skipped his generation, only to re-manifest in the son he believes lacks respect for the old ways.
"I'm worried about Leah. Do not put her at risk! Do you hear me, Billy?" Sue Clearwater reveals a backbone similar to her daughter.
"Let's just all keep cool heads here. We get Leah and Jake. We don't need to rile this thing up."
Sam Uley. Leah provides abundant information on the man through her thoughts as the Quileute trio hears the car and turns to watch their approach.
Edward discards the personal memories and focuses on the pertinent ones. Sam is the reservation's security and law enforcement officer. Unlike the two elders, Uley is curious and undecided about Edward. That doesn't stop him from touching the gun in the holster on his hip and wondering if a bullet will hurt a vampire.
It won't. However, Edward has no intention of demonstrating. With Isabella in tow, Edward's only thought is to unburden himself of the shapeshifter's presence and the operatic drama he finds himself in. Life with Isabella is endlessly complicated. He is unsettled, to say the least.
He coasts to a stop at the side of the road. "Stay in the car," he says to Isabella.
The moment he steps out, he hears the passenger door open as she blatantly disobeys him. He wonders if she understands how precarious his self-control will become if he feels her safety is at risk.
Sue Clearwater is the first to break from her frozen stance. Warily, she takes Edward in while scurrying forward to meet Leah as she's exiting the car. Edward politely inclines his head, impressed with her courage, though not surprised. Shapeshifter lineage aside, the Quileute are a remarkable breed of humans.
"Leah! Are you all right? Come here." As Sue embraces her daughter, Edward opens the opposite rear door and reaches in to secure Black.
"Wakey wakey, wolf-boy. You're home."
Black blinks blearily. "S'not my home."
"Close enough," Edward tells him, pulling Black into a standing position just as Billy manages to roll his wheelchair a few feet closer.
The senior Black's thoughts vacillate between genuine concern for his son and ingrained hostility for Edward's kind. That, and a good case of intuitive fear, give a tremulous quality to his voice. "Get your hands off of him, cold one!"
Jake leans against Edward with a sigh. "Chill, Dad."
"Chill? Did you just tell me to chill? You are standing there with a vampire, you dimwitted, stubborn mule. Get away from him."
The pup scoffs at no one in particular. "Unconditional parental love. Gotta love it." He fixes a glare on his father as Edward rebalances his weight. Black gestures to highlight the action. "In case you didn't notice, Dad, he's keeping me from falling on my ass."
"He's the damn reason you need the help!"
"Well, yeah," the pup answers. "Although, that's kind of beside the point now."
Sam moves in behind Billy warily. "Jake, man. You look like hell. Are you good?"
Black waves him off. "Yeah, Sam. Living the werewolf dream." He gives a wry grin, dry vocal cords giving him a croaking toad accent. "A couple of cracked ribs, which I could've taped up, but noooo. My kind needs to speed-heal by turning up the internal temp to inferno level. A little overkill, if you ask me." He swallows with a grimace. "Anyone have any water? I'd kill for a gallon."
Sam rubs his jaw and thinks, "Glad I'm not one of Ephraim's line," before saying out loud, "Well, the good thing is you're not seriously hurt." He speculates about why Edward would let Jake live, let alone bring him home.
Billy turns his attention to Bella, who is quietly talking with Leah and Sue. "Bella. You're coming with us. You are not staying with … that thing." He spits 'thing' out like a curse, and Edward is amused despite himself.
Jake sighs and grabs the handle of his father's chair. Edward braces him with a hand on his back when the pup wobbles.
"Dad, enough of this us versus them crap, okay? We have a lot to figure out, but there's no reason we can't be civil."
Sue nods as she bundles Leah into a vehicle. "I agree. And this can all wait. I'm taking Leah home."
"Good idea, Sue. Let's do the same, Billy," Sam advises. "This is a conversation for another day." Keeping Edward in his line of sight, an ingrained chivalry bids him to offer. "Bella, you are welcome to come with us if you want."
Edward feels his patience fading. He utters a low "hmmm," speculative and dangerous.
Sam flinches.
Isabella wisely responds in the negative. "It's okay. I'm not in danger, Sam."
"The hell you aren't," Billy says. He reaches back to try and swat Jake's hand away, but Jake ignores it—or attempts to. His knees buckle, and Edward wedges his shoulder under the dog's armpit to support more of his bulk.
Billy takes advantage of Jake letting go, breaking free and spinning his wheels toward Isabella. The final thread of Edward's tolerance snaps. "Enough!" The force of the command resonates like a thunderclap, creating an echo in the trees behind him.
Billy takes heed and stops, and Edward continues in a more neutral tone. "You have what you want."
"And what is it you think I want, cold one." Billy's voice trembles, but his body is steady, and his mind is strong. Prideful, but justifiably so. Edward is again reminded of Ephraim, and it grounds him.
"Your son unequivocally knows what he is."
Billy's mouth opens, about to emit a hostile reply.
Edward speaks before Billy can use words to alienate them further. "Your shapeshifter lineage has an opportunity to rebound from its near extinction. Or have you forgotten that you are to be a grandfather?"
Billy's features shift to reflect new introspection in his thoughts.
Clearly fed up, Bella attempts to appeal to the senior Black. "Billy, Jake needs a bed, fluids, rest, maybe even a doctor. Let's prioritize that."
To his credit, Billy's shoulders come down an inch, giving Sam a chance to chime in.
"She's right, Billy. This isn't the time." In his head, he thinks,' stick to the plan,' and Edward wonders what precisely this plan is.
The mutt's father fills him in. "Fine. Here's the deal, cold one. Bella comes with us and we—"
"No," Isabella interjects. "Leave me out of this. I'm not a bargaining chip. I'm Switzerland—got it?"
Edward fights a smile of pride. The high colour in her cheeks is pink peony perfection. Unlike the others, who look washed out in the dark, his Isabella glows.
"You have never known what's good for you, Bella Swan. If your father had any idea—"
Edward cuts in, preventing Billy from continuing. "She's answered you. If you have something else to say to me, you're welcome to say it now. If not, let's conclude this conversation and call it a night."
"Fine." Sitting higher in his chair, Billy cools his anger by drawing on a treaty he has memorized by heart. "No major harm has been done, so the treaty can stand. The same rules apply. You don't kill anyone. We keep away from your land, and you keep away from ours."
Edward doesn't hesitate. "Agreed."
"Just like that?" Billy doesn't try to hide his skepticism.
"I respected Ephraim," Edward replies. "I see no need to renegotiate the terms of my original agreement with him.
Billy gives him a grudging nod, though he continues to feel unsettled about Bella.
Sam Uley puts aside his trepidation and approaches Edward. Despite being tall and physically fit, taking Jake's weight from Edward has him staggering.
Cluing in that he's about to take them both down, Jake tries to ease the burden, coming out of his most recent near-somnolent state. "Heeyyy, Sammy."
"Jesus, Jake. You might want to cut back on the Big Macs. I think you've gained a couple of pounds. And by couple, I mean one hundred."
"All muscle, dude."
"Okay. Well, if you can walk, do it."
"I can carry you if you'd like, wolf cub." Edward mimes outstretched arms in the way one would carry a bride over the threshold and grins as Black flips him the finger.
"No thanks, LeStat. I'm running out of ribs you can break on that frigging shoulder of yours."
With Sam's help, Jake makes it to the car. There, he comes to a standstill, resisting Sam's efforts to get him in the passenger seat. He scrubs a hand across his jaw, using sheer willpower to battle back the mental fog, and fixes his gaze on Isabella. "You and I need to have a serious conversation, Bells. Until then, I want a promise from you that you won't make any decisions or leave Forks."
She and Jake maintain the kind of stare only stubborn minds can, the ticking of seconds on the clock extending at a rate that further taxes Edward's patience. The mutt demonstrating familiarity and connection by using the pet name 'Bells' grants a strong urge to snap another puppy rib. On purpose this time.
Isabella's lips compress into a thin line, perhaps biting back argumental words, before she gives a curt nod.
"This border is never closed to you. If you can't get here yourself, call me." At this, Black ends the stare with Isabella and levels it on him. Their gazes clash as Jake's pupils diminish to wolven slits. "Any. Time."
"She will never need your protection, Black," Edward replies, quiet as the hushed night, eyes a vortex of ink—a glimpsing glint of white fangs in the crescent moon curve of his lips. "She has mine."
Jake takes in the words, assimilating the line being drawn in the space between them. Not friends. Not yet enemies.
We'll see, vampire. We'll see…
He gets in the car of his own volition, and Sam helps Billy do the same.
As they drive away, Edward moves to the Aston Martin and holds the door open for Isabella. She watches the taillights of Sam Uley's car vanish into the night before she grants him her attention.
She stares at the open door but doesn't move.
Alone on the side of the road, the soft thrumming of her heartbeat a sultry invitation, the world stands still. Even the breeze waits with bated breath.
Her choice is her own, but his path is solidified, and that negates everything. She is life, and he is death. Any obstacle that lies between the juxtaposition of their two worlds has been inconsequential from the start.
Nothing has changed.
A vampire denied his mate is the embodiment of hell.
No rules. No remorse.
Heaven help them both if she chooses wrong.
. . . . . .