Chapter 93: Hello Mr. President
The morning sunlight poured through the window, casting a warm glow across the room. The golden rays hit Bella's skin, making half her face glitter like it was dusted with diamonds. She stood in front of the mirror, buttoning up her red shirt with care, her gaze flicking to Edward as he rose lazily from the bed behind her. The memory of their night together lingered in the curve of her lips, but she knew she'd have to compose herself soon. Meeting the President with a lovestruck grin plastered across her face wasn't exactly the impression she wanted to make.
As she secured the last button, Edward's arms slid around her waist, pulling her back against him. His touch sent a soothing warmth through her, and she instinctively leaned back into him, closing her eyes for a brief moment to savor it. But she knew better. Now wasn't the time.
"Later," she murmured, her voice soft but firm, meeting his eyes through the mirror. "We can continue our fun when I get back." Her gaze flickered down to his chest, still bare and annoyingly perfect. Thankfully, he'd at least pulled on a pair of pants. If he hadn't, her resolve might not have held. The sunlight caught the shimmer of his skin, and with a flick of her mind, she extended her shield, halting the sparkle for both of them. "Looks like you're stuck inside while I'm gone. Sorry about that."
Edward's lips brushed her neck, grazing the spot he'd nibbled on repeatedly during the night. A familiar thrill coursed through her, threatening her composure, but she bit her lip and stayed focused. His voice came low and teasing, each word a soft caress. "Don't worry. It's nothing us normal vampires aren't accustomed to." Through the mirror, she caught his unmistakable grin, amusement glinting in his eyes as he winked, fully aware of the effect he had on her. "I'll find something to amuse myself with while you're away."
Before she could respond, he turned her around, his hands gentle on her hips, his fingers lightly kneading the flesh beneath her clothes. His lips found hers in a kiss that was unhurried yet firm, his mouth tasting sweet as he slowly leaned her back. It felt as though he was pouring all his confidence into her. When he finally pulled away, his eyes held hers, the sincerity in his gaze sending a different kind of warmth flooding through her.
"You've got this." His voice was calm, his words steady. "You'll be great."
Bella grinned, her gaze locked with Edward's. "Thanks." The warmth of his reassurance lingered in her chest, grounding her. Her eyes flicked to the alarm clock on the nightstand, the red digits glaring a reminder that she really needed to leave if she was going to make it on time. With a quick glance at the mirror, she nodded, satisfied with her appearance. Reaching back, her fingers brushed over her pocket, confirming her mask was still there. Can't leave without that…
"Alright, I'm off." Her grin turned playful, a mischievous glint lighting her eyes. "Keep your fingers crossed that I don't cause an incident."
Edward's lips curved into a knowing smirk, his amusement evident. "You? Cause trouble? I can't even imagine such a thing," he teased, his tone warm and laced with affection.
She leaned in for one last kiss, her lips brushing softly against his in a lingering farewell before she slipped out of the hotel room door. At her feet lay a complimentary copy of USA Today. Curious, she snatched it up, unfolding the crisp pages as she headed toward the elevator. Her steps faltered for just a moment as she caught sight of the bold headline splashed across the front page: The Nation Waits. Will Starshield Accept the President's Call?
She sighed, wondering if she'd ever grow accustomed to being in the public spotlight. It still felt wrong after working so hard for so many years to remain hidden in the shadows. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she stepped into the elevator, the doors closing with a soft chime.
But as the elevator descended, a small measure of comfort settled over her. It wasn't Bella Swan under the microscope—it was Starshield. Bella Swan, the girl who once stumbled through life unnoticed, still remained safely in obscurity. And for that, she was profoundly grateful.
As Bella stepped outside the hotel, the bright sunlight warmed her skin, the clear blue sky a picturesque backdrop to the nation's capital. The city buzzed with activity, the hum of life creating a rhythm she could almost feel. She glanced around, her sharp eyes scanning for a secluded spot, a place hidden from the ever-watchful gaze of cameras. Turning down a quiet side street, she found what she was looking for—a narrow alley flanked by tall buildings.
From her pocket, Bella pulled out the mask Alice had made for her and turned it over in her hands, examining it. It was sleek, stylish, and undeniably superhero-esque, a marked improvement over her original mask. Most importantly, it wasn't gaudy, something she was particularly thankful for.
Sliding the mask over her face, Bella took a deep, steadying breath. Her fingers brushed against the edges, adjusting it until it fit perfectly. "You've got this," she whispered, her voice firm but quiet, the words grounding her. She squared her shoulders, her resolve solidifying. With one last glance around, she pushed off the ground, shooting straight up into the sky like an arrow loosed from a bow.
The air rushed past her as she ascended, cool and invigorating against her skin. Below, the city unfolded like a living map, streets weaving between stately buildings and lush green spaces. For the first time, Bella wasn't hiding. She was flying openly, the sun warming her back, her path unimpeded. The realization sent a surge of excitement through her, a sense of freedom she hadn't anticipated but eagerly embraced.
Her pace was unhurried, allowing her to absorb her surroundings fully. She soared over bustling avenues where cars crept forward, horns honking sporadically in the midday traffic. Tiny figures moved purposefully along the sidewalks, their lives carrying on, oblivious to the figure gliding far above them. In the distance, the Potomac River shimmered like a silver ribbon, winding its way through the city.
Spotting the iconic spire of the Washington Monument ahead, Bella adjusted her course. The obelisk rose tall and resolute, its pale stone gleaming under the midday sun. Reaching the National Mall, she veered right, her gaze sweeping over the vast green expanse flanked by historical landmarks.
Further ahead, the White House came into view, its pristine white columns and symmetrical design unmistakable against the backdrop of the sprawling city. Bella slowed her flight, hovering for a moment to take it all in. The White House looked both inviting and imposing, its carefully manicured grounds and layered security a reminder of its significance not just to the nation but to the world.
As Bella hovered, she realized she didn't actually know where she was supposed to land. The lawn below stretched out like a manicured quilt of greens, bordered by layers of fencing and guards standing like chess pieces in a silent game. Her gaze swept the area, taking in the carefully maintained grounds and the distinct shape of Marine One stationed nearby, its blades still but prepared for flight. The open area next to the helicopter seemed like a safe bet, and with a small exhale, she began her descent.
Her landing was soft, her feet touching the ground with the kind of grace only a vampire could manage. Straightening, she cast a cautious glance around. Thankfully, no one was shooting at her, but the faint crackle of voices in earpieces reached her ears as security personnel relayed her arrival. Tension hummed in their voices, the guards stationed around the perimeter standing rigid, every gaze locked on her. Bella could sense their unease but was relieved to see no weapons being trained on her… yet.
She stood there, unsure of what to do next. Was she supposed to wait? Approach someone? Introduce herself? The thought of walking up to one of the guards felt almost laughable. Shifting slightly on her feet, she focused on projecting a calm confidence, even though she didn't quite feel it.
A minute passed. Then another. Just as the awkwardness began to creep in, a door opened, and a woman stepped out. Her brisk, purposeful stride carried her across the lawn with an air of authority that matched her sharp navy suit. Bella's shoulders relaxed at the sight—this woman looked like someone who knew exactly what she was doing and, more importantly, where to take her.
Jennifer Robbins, Chief of Staff to the President, had been standing at the front doors of the White House for the past fifteen minutes, the heels of her polished shoes clicking faintly against the marble steps as she shifted her weight. She checked her watch again. 11:55 a.m. Five minutes until noon.
This entire situation felt like a gamble—a high-stakes roll of the dice with no clear outcome. An invitation issued through the press? She shook her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. It went against every instinct she had. Invitations like this weren't made without thorough vetting, months of careful coordination, and a well-defined strategy. But here they were, blindfolded, walking a tightrope, with no idea if Starshield was an ally, a threat, or something in between.
Jennifer's jaw tightened as she thought about how exposed they were. They didn't know anything about this woman. Nothing. Not her political leanings, her agenda, or even her temperament. And yet, here they were, preparing to welcome her into the most secure building in the nation. She couldn't shake the feeling that this could blow up in their faces in ways they couldn't even predict.
Her mind raced as she began mentally drafting contingency statements for the press. What would they say if Starshield didn't show? Or worse, what if she arrived and this meeting spiraled into chaos? The weight of those possibilities pressed down on her shoulders like a lead blanket.
Just as the thought took root, movement caught her eye. Several Secret Service agents near the lawn suddenly stiffened, their hands pressed to their earpieces. A ripple of activity moved through them, and before she could process what was happening, one of the agents approached her swiftly, his expression calm but purposeful.
"Ma'am, your guest has just arrived. She landed next to Marine One." His voice was clipped and professional, his focus split between her and the chatter in his earpiece, his eyes scanning the perimeter for any potential issues.
"Shit!" The curse escaped Jennifer's lips before she could stop it, her voice low but sharp as she pivoted on her heel, breaking into a hurried stride back into the White House and down the corridor. Why, of all days, had she chosen these damn heels? The sharp click of her shoes against the polished marble floors echoed as she rushed, weaving through the West Wing like a woman on a mission.
The White House buzzed with its usual energy—staff bustling between offices, aides balancing stacks of papers, and muted voices spilling from open doors where meetings were in full swing. Several staffers tried to catch her attention as she passed.
"Jennifer, do you have a minute—"
"Not now!" she called over her shoulder, her tone curt but resolute. She barely slowed, her mind already racing ahead to what awaited her.
Navigating the maze of hallways, she finally reached the door leading to the South Lawn, where Marine One sat in its usual spot. She stopped just short of the door, her heart pounding—partly from exertion, partly from anticipation. This wasn't just any meeting; it was unprecedented. She was about to greet a woman who, in all likelihood, wasn't even human. That certainly hadn't been in the job description.
Jennifer took a deep breath, smoothing her navy dress with deliberate precision. Her fingers brushed over the pearls at her neck, the familiar weight grounding her as she let her professionalism settle firmly into place. Lifting her chin, she nodded to the uniformed Marine sentry stationed at the door.
"Open it," she instructed, her voice calm and steady, betraying none of the nerves coiling beneath the surface.
The officer complied without hesitation, unlocking and pulling the heavy door open. A rush of warm air greeted her as she stepped onto the stone steps, her heels clicking faintly against the surface.
The lawn stretched before her, its manicured perfection almost surreal against the backdrop of the waiting helicopter. And there she was—Starshield.
As Jennifer began her walk toward Starshield, her sharp eyes cataloged every detail with the precision her position demanded. It was second nature to her now, this constant assessment of people and situations, a skill honed through decades of navigating the intricate and often unforgiving world of Washington politics.
The first thing she noted was that Starshield was better dressed than the two times she'd seen her on television. The blue jeans were still there—practical and understated—but her red blouse was different. Stylish and tailored, it hinted at sophistication without crossing into ostentation. As she drew closer, Jennifer's attention shifted to Starshield's mask. It, too, had changed. Gone was the flimsy, off-the-shelf mask that the FBI had reported as being widely available and commercially used by countless companies. What she wore now was sleek and professionally made, lending an air of polish to the enigmatic figure standing before her.
Only feet away, Jennifer's appraisal turned to Starshield's physical presence. She was tall—several inches taller than Jennifer herself—but thanks to her heels, they stood nearly eye-to-eye. It was a subtle reminder of why she rarely went to work without them. Beyond her height, Starshield's appearance was undeniably striking. Her figure was the kind of flawless that seemed almost unattainable, the sort of physique most women could only dream of. Her skin was pale, unnaturally so, but rather than diminishing her, it gave her an ethereal quality, like a living work of art stepping straight out of a Renaissance painting.
Yet, for all her beauty and the subtle aura of power she radiated, Starshield didn't scream larger-than-life superhero. She looked, Jennifer realized with some surprise, remarkably normal. And that made her all the more intriguing.
By the time she reached Starshield, Jennifer's professional smile was firmly in place. Extending a hand, she met Starshield's gaze, noting the composed expression that betrayed neither nervousness nor arrogance. "Thank you for coming." Her tone was warm and inviting yet carefully measured. "Welcome to the White House. I'm the President's Chief of Staff, Jennifer Robbins."
"Hi, it's nice to meet you." Starshield's voice was warm, carrying a friendliness that caught Jennifer off guard. As they shook hands, Jennifer couldn't help but notice the chill of her skin—so cold it was almost startling. Reports had mentioned this, but feeling it firsthand was something else entirely. It was an undeniable reminder that the woman standing before her wasn't human. The realization sent a ripple of unease through her, but she quickly buried it beneath her practiced composure.
"Right this way." Jennifer gestured toward the entrance. "The President is expecting you and is looking forward to speaking with you."
As they stepped inside the White House, Jennifer's heels clicked softly against the polished floors, the sound a steady rhythm grounding her amidst the quiet energy Starshield seemed to bring with her. Jennifer cast a sidelong glance at her guest, taking in the way Starshield's sharp eyes moved over the ornate architecture and historic decor. There was an unmistakable sense of wonder in her gaze, subtle but genuine, as though she was quietly absorbing the weight of the building's history.
Staff members bustled in the background, their movements a seamless choreography of the White House's daily operations. But it didn't take long for the usual rhythm to shift. Heads turned. Conversations faltered mid-sentence. The sight of Starshield walking through the halls of the most powerful building in the nation was a spectacle none of them had expected to witness. Some offered waves, others murmured polite greetings, their tones tinged with awe.
Starshield responded to each acknowledgment with a slight smile or a quiet, "Hello," her voice warm yet measured. She carried herself with a calm poise that seemed to disarm the unease Jennifer had felt earlier.
As they turned a corner, a young woman in a sharp blazer stepped forward, nervousness flickering in her eyes. "Excuse me, ah... Starshield." Her voice carried enough steadiness to nearly mask the tremor beneath. "I just wanted to say… thank you. My friend was in L.A. last month during—well, when everything happened. She was caught in the chaos, and you… you saved her. She wouldn't be here if it weren't for you."
Jennifer watched as Starshield's expression softened, her full attention shifting to the woman in front of her. She paused mid-step, sincerity clear in her voice. "I'm glad I was able to be there for her—and everyone else. Please let her know I'm happy she's well."
The young woman nodded quickly, her eyes glistening as she stepped back into the crowd. Starshield resumed walking, but Jennifer noticed the small, almost imperceptible shift in her expression—something between humility and quiet pride.
The journey to the Oval Office continued, each step amplifying the weight of the moment. Jennifer's practiced eye couldn't miss the subtle ripple Starshield's presence created as they moved through the halls. Even among seasoned staffers, many of whom had met dignitaries, celebrities, and heads of state, there was a palpable sense of something different. Starshield's presence didn't just command attention—it left an imprint.
As they approached the Oval Office, Jennifer's gaze flicked to the two Secret Service agents stationed on either side of the door. Their postures were rigid, their expressions carrying a hint of displeasure beneath their professional veneer. She nodded to them in silent understanding, a wordless acknowledgment of their lingering concerns.
Reaching the door, Jennifer turned to face Starshield, her hand resting lightly on the polished brass handle. Her voice softened, as though the gravity of what lay ahead demanded it. "The President is right inside." Her eyes met Starshield's, steady and searching. "For what it's worth, thank you—for everything you've done."
Starshield nodded, her smile soft yet radiant, transforming her expression with a warmth that seemed to transcend the situation. If not for the mask, Jennifer thought, her face might have been the very image of what one would imagine an angel to look like.
Jennifer pushed open the door, stepping aside to let her through. As Starshield entered the room, Jennifer couldn't help but wonder how the history of this moment would be written.
As Bella stepped into the Oval Office, a sense of awe washed over her. This was the room where the country's most defining moments had been decided. As she looked around, she noted that the room was smaller than she had imagined, but its presence was undeniable. The walls were lined with cream-colored paneling, and the curved ceiling above seemed to encapsulate the room like the inside of a grand dome. Light streamed in through the tall windows behind the large wooden desk, their heavy, golden drapes framing the view of the lawn outside.
Her gaze swept over the room. A pair of American flags stood tall on either side of the desk, their fabric perfectly creased. The Presidential Seal was emblazoned on the plush navy-blue carpet beneath her feet, its golden eagle catching the light. Paintings of past presidents and pivotal moments in history adorned the walls, while a bronze bust of Abraham Lincoln sat prominently on a side table.
Her eyes were drawn to the man rising from behind the desk—the President. She had known she would meet him, of course, but seeing him in person felt strangely surreal. He was a figure she'd only ever seen on television, yet here he was, standing mere feet away. His imposing presence became immediately apparent. He was tall, easily six foot two, with broad shoulders and a frame that suggested an athletic past. His suit was immaculate, tailored to perfection, and the deep navy of his tie subtly harmonized with the room's refined palette. He had a full head of hair for a man in his fifties, though Bella's sharp eyes picked up that some of it wasn't entirely natural. A touch of vanity, perhaps.
He stepped around the desk with purpose, his voice cutting through the space with practiced clarity. "Thank you for coming. It's a pleasure to meet you." The words carried a weight that matched the authority of his role, yet a warmth in his tone seemed to soften the air between them, as if he intended to put her at ease without compromising his command of the moment.
Bella stepped forward, clasping his hand firmly. His handshake was strong and practiced—exactly what she'd expect from a man who had likely greeted thousands over the course of his career.
"It's nice to meet you, Mr. President," Bella replied, her voice steady and sincere. "Thank you for the invitation."
The President turned to his Chief of Staff with a small nod. "Thank you, Jennifer. I'd like to speak with our guest one-on-one for a while. If I need anything, I'll let you know."
Jennifer hesitated for the briefest moment, her sharp gaze flicking between the President and Starshield. "Of course, sir," she replied, her tone as professional as ever. With a polite nod to both of them, she exited the room.
Bella watched as the door closed with a soft click, the sound leaving the space quieter and somehow more intimate. She shifted slightly where she stood, unsure of what would happen next. Her eyes darted around the room, drawn to the weight of its history, but also searching for something to steady her focus. The President, as if sensing her unease, broke the silence with a gesture toward the sofas in the center of the room.
"Please, have a seat." His voice was calm and measured, carrying the ease of someone accustomed to commanding a room. With a polite gesture toward the sofa across from him, he waited for her to sit before moving to his own.
Bella lowered herself onto the indicated sofa, smoothing her hands over her jeans before crossing her legs and resting her hands neatly in her lap. Her posture was upright and composed, though the tension of the moment lingered. Across from her, the President took his seat, crossing one leg over the other with an air of quiet confidence. Despite her uncertainty, she found reassurance in one small detail—the President's steady heartbeat. He wasn't afraid of her, and for that, she was profoundly grateful.
For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, catching the sheen of the Presidential Seal on the carpet. Bella's sharp hearing picked up the murmur of voices outside the room, their tones laced with concern—concern about her. She pushed the voices to the background, knowing she'd revisit everything she heard regarding her in minute detail later. For now, she refocused her attention on the man seated across from her, his gaze a mix of curiosity and quiet intent.
"Would you like anything to drink? Water? Tea?" The President's voice was warm, his tone casual as he gestured toward a side table lined with an assortment of crystal decanters and fine china. "I think I even still have some of the good stuff the President of France gifted me during his last visit." A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, as though he hoped the offer might loosen her tongue.
Bella almost snorted at the thought, her lips twitching into a faint smirk. The good stuff? She highly doubted he meant blood. If the French President were a vamp, she was fairly certain someone would have clued her in by now. "Thanks for the offer," she replied playfully. "But I'm fine for now. Besides, I'm not sure drinking and flying mix well."
She let the joke linger, watching the President's expression and feeling a small sense of satisfaction when he smiled and chuckled. The ease in his demeanor made the moment feel less formal, and Bella allowed herself to relax just a little more.
The President appraised the young woman seated across from him, noting the calm poise she exuded despite the weight of the circumstances. Her smile, faint but genuine, struck him as disarming. He'd met countless people over the course of his political career, but there was something about her presence that was undeniably distinct.
The silence stretched, the gravity of the moment settling around them. Realizing she was likely waiting for him to speak first—it was his home turf, after all—he leaned forward, his expression welcoming.
"I imagine a meeting like this must be rather unusual for you," he began. "Truth be told, it's a first for me as well. I've never had a visitor quite like you, and I say that with all respect." He allowed a small smile, pleased to see her lips curve just a little in response. "Please, don't feel like you need to stand on ceremony here. While I may have to project a certain image in front of the cameras, in private conversations like this, I prefer to just be two people having an honest discussion."
His eyes remained fixed on hers as he continued. "The reason I invited you here today is simple: I believe it's important for us to establish some form of relationship. My instincts are telling me that you're going to be in the public eye for the rest of my time in office—and beyond. And if that's the case, I feel we should establish some kind of rapport. My great hope is that it can be a positive one. I understand you may not wish to share who or what you truly are, and I can respect that. But perhaps you could tell me a little about yourself as a person. Help me understand the woman behind the mask."
Bella's posture eased at his words, and she returned his smile. "I agree with what you're saying, and I want the same thing. I don't want any animosity with the government. Any dealings I have with others, especially at this level, I want to be built on mutual trust. I'll do my best to be truthful with you today, but I need to be upfront—there are some things I can't share, and some questions I simply won't be able to answer."
Her gaze remained steady, the weight of what she intended to share firmly settled in her mind. "Before I came here today, I'd already decided I would share more with you about myself and the situation we find ourselves in than I ever would with the general public. I understand the government must have a lot of questions—probably far more than I can answer—but there are things I believe I can share that will help. Things that could benefit everyone in the future."
The President nodded, his expression unreadable for a brief moment before softening into one of quiet appreciation.
Bella composed her thoughts carefully, mentally lining up her words before speaking. "Well, a brief history of me… I grew up in the Southwest. I know I look young, but I'm actually older than I appear. We can probably get into that a little later." She paused, reflecting on her human life. It felt like a distant memory and yet somehow as vivid as if it had only happened yesterday. "My early life was pretty normal—grade school, high school, college… all the usual milestones. But of course, the kicker is that I'm not normal anymore. While I can't tell you what I am, I can share some things, as long as I'm careful with my words."
Her voice became contemplative, a hint of vulnerability breaking through. "I'm not used to speaking so openly with a human, and I'll explain why soon. The truth is, until the incident in L.A., I had no intention of ever revealing myself to the world. I know my actions disrupted the natural order—both in the human world and, honestly, in my own. It upended everything, altering the course of both our worlds entirely." She hesitated, her lips pressing together briefly as she gathered her thoughts. "It's difficult to know where to begin."
The President listened intently, leaning forward slightly, his hands resting loosely on his knees. He wasn't often captivated by a story, but the weight of Starshield's presence, combined with the hints of what she might reveal, had him hanging on her every word. He could see the wheels turning in her mind, the careful way she chose each phrase. It struck him how much thought she gave to every detail, every pause.
Sensing her uncertainty, he offered a gentle smile. "Before we go any further, I feel it's only right to start with gratitude. Let me formally thank you for what you did last month in Los Angeles." His gaze held hers, unwavering. "You saved countless lives that day, and I'm sure no one knows that better than you. The nation owes you a tremendous debt of gratitude, and as President, I wanted to thank you personally."
Bella's lips curved into a small, genuine smile, and she nodded, acknowledging his words.
"And," he continued, his expression shifting to one of awe, "what you did last week in space… Well, that was something I'll never forget. Watching you rescue that cosmonaut was the most extraordinary thing I've ever witnessed. In both situations, you stepped up when you didn't have to, where no one could have blamed you for doing nothing. Yet you took a risk to save complete strangers."
The sincerity in his voice was impossible to miss, and a warmth spread through Bella, settling in a way that felt unexpectedly reassuring. She hadn't acted for praise or recognition, but hearing gratitude—from everyday people all the way up to the President—brought a quiet sense of fulfillment. Helping others, making a difference—this was what truly drove her, and the fact that she'd succeeded was enough.
"Thank you, Mr. President." Bella's tone was heartfelt, her words carrying more weight than her composed expression revealed.
The President studied Starshield's expression, noting the careful deliberation in her eyes. She seemed cautious, yet there was a willingness to share—he could sense it. All she needed was the right question to draw her out.
"Helping others is a rare and admirable trait." He uncrossed his leg, straightening it for a moment before switching and crossing the other. "Maybe you could tell me about the first time you saved someone?"
Bella's lips curved into a genuine smile as she leaned back slightly, her posture easing. "Yes, that's a story I can share without holding anything back." Her gaze shifted toward the tall windows, the memory already taking shape in her mind. "The year was 2008. I was sitting on a bench in downtown Chicago. It was a beautiful night—warm, alive with that electric buzz a city always seems to have after dark. I wasn't doing much, just people watching."
Her eyes returned to the President, the memory bringing a new energy to her voice. "There was a group of teenage girls nearby, probably no older than fourteen or fifteen. They were laughing and chatting, completely caught up in their own little world. Watching them reminded me of my own friends back when life felt simpler."
Bella paused, her expression softening as she lingered on those carefree days. "Then, I noticed another girl across the street. She called out to her friends and started running toward them without looking—straight into traffic." Her voice tightened, her gaze turning distant as she relived that fateful moment. "It all happened so fast, but for me, it was as if time slowed down. Everything came into sharp focus—the car speeding toward her, the driver distracted, the girl turning her head at the last second, her widening eyes catching the harsh glare of the headlights, frozen, just as the car was about to run her over."
Her hands tightened slightly in her lap, reflexively, as she recounted the scene. "I didn't think—I just acted. Right as the car was about to hit her, I used my shield and pushed it out of the way." A soft, almost self-deprecating laugh escaped her as she recalled what happened next. "My first save hadn't been perfect, though. I had pushed the car so hard that, now veering in another direction, it crashed into a nearby building. The car was totaled, but thankfully, the driver only walked away with a broken nose from the airbag."
The President's eyes widened, only to realize Starshield had paused, her gaze now fixed on him. Had he gasped without realizing it? Quickly regaining his composure, he gave a small nod, signaling for her to continue.
Bella's gaze dropped slightly, her fingers brushing lightly over her knees as she continued. "The girl… she just stood there, frozen in the middle of the road. Her face—" Bella's words caught slightly as she remembered the look in the girl's wide, terrified eyes. "She was so scared. And I understood why. She had come within inches of losing her life, and she knew it."
A faint smile emerged, softening her introspection. "But it was in that moment, on that night, when I realized I could make a difference. That I could use my abilities to help others. It was an overwhelming feeling—a sense of purpose I'd never experienced before. My father's in law enforcement, and while I never felt drawn to follow in his footsteps as a human, maybe I did inherit his drive to protect and help others. But that night changed everything. It changed how I saw my life unfolding."
The President exhaled slowly, his fingers interlaced as he listened. Starshield's story had been compelling, but it was more than just the narrative—there was a humanity to it that struck a chord with him. He could almost picture his own daughter in the place of that young girl, frozen in the crosshairs of that oncoming vehicle. The thought hit closer to home than he anticipated, prompting him to consider how many other fathers out there might owe their daughters' lives to an unsung hero whose existence the world was only just beginning to grasp.
"That's an incredible story," he began, his voice carrying the weight of someone used to addressing both crowds and individuals with equal finesse. "It's rare to hear something so... unvarnished, and I appreciate that. I can't help but wonder, though—how did you go from that moment to sitting here today? Until last month, we've had no record of anyone like you, and I can't imagine you not saving anyone else after what you've just described. Your path from there to here couldn't have been that straightforward."
Bella smiled, her expression understated but touched with dry humor. "Well, why there have been no reports of anyone like me... That's easy—and I'll get to it soon. But as for helping others… well, that was far from straightforward." She shifted slightly in her seat, her confidence tempered by the weight of her memories. "Those first few years were… messy, to put it mildly. There was a lot of trial and error. I didn't wake up one day with all the answers and I didn't get any kind of guidebook with these abilities. I had to figure it all out as I went."
Her gaze dropped briefly, a flicker of reflection crossing her expression. "And honestly? My abilities weren't anywhere near as powerful back then. Not even close. It's taken years of work—relentless work—to get them to what they are now. I was always testing my limits, refining what I could do, and pushing myself to be even better. And I'm still learning, still figuring things out." She glanced back at him, her tone lightening just enough to soften the edges of her honesty. "It turns out, stubbornness can take you a long way when you're determined to be the best that you can be."
The President nodded, his expression thoughtful as her words sank in. There wasn't a trace of arrogance in her tone—only an unshakable resolve. She wasn't flaunting her strength; she was laying it bare, piece by piece. What struck him most was her humanity. It was as much a part of her as the powers she wielded.
Bella's gaze shifted toward the President's desk, her eyes catching a large cluster of black pens neatly arranged in a silver holder. Without moving a muscle, she extended her shield, wrapping it around one of the pens and lifting it effortlessly into the air. It floated over to the coffee table, hovering between them as though suspended by an invisible thread, the light above catching on its glossy surface.
"When I first discovered I had this shield," Bella began, her tone reflective as she relived those early days, "I had no idea how to use it. In the beginning, I could barely move a small rock, let alone doing something like this." A faint smile played on her lips as she caught the President's expression—wide-eyed and utterly dumbfounded. She'd seen him give countless speeches and interviews on TV, but she'd never seen him look like this before. "Back then, just sitting on the ground and trying to push a pebble back and forth with my mind was a struggle. It took me a long time to develop even a little proficiency with the smallest tasks."
The pen began to spin slowly in midair, its motion deliberate and fluid. Bella's smile widened slightly. "Everything advanced gradually. It took years before I felt confident enough to believe my flying actually looked like flying—and not just me being awkwardly moved around by my shield." Her voice carried a trace of humor as she let the sentence hang in the air.
With a subtle shift of her focus, the pens still in the holder flew out as if each were propelled by an invisible hand. They darted across the space to join their brother hovering in front of them. Together, they began forming a dazzling array of geometric shapes—stars, pyramids, cubes—all shifting and morphing with seamless precision.
The President leaned forward, his eyes riveted on the pens as they rotated and wove in and out of intricate formations. The movements were so fluid, so mesmerizing, it was almost as if the pens were alive, performing a hypnotic dance in perfect unison.
On television, he had seen Starshield do extraordinary things, feats that had left the world in awe. But here, in the quiet intimacy of the Oval Office, witnessing it firsthand, the experience was something entirely different. It felt tangible—impossible, yet undeniable.
"How…" His voice faltered as he struggled to process what he was seeing. "How are you able to do such things?"
His gaze shifted to Starshield, and he froze, momentarily caught off guard. She wasn't even looking at the pens. Her eyes were fixed on him, calm and composed, with just the faintest hint of amusement in her expression—as if to say, I've got this completely under control.
Bella smiled as she considered his question. "How I'm able to do the things I do…" She let the words hang in the air for a moment. "Well, I think you might be disappointed to hear that I have no idea. I just can—and, thankfully, that's been enough for me." She paused, searching for the best way to explain. "If I had to guess, I'd say my brain is… different now. More advanced. The best analogy I can give you is this: imagine being able to think of hundreds of things at the same time—all different, all complex—and still give each thought as much focus as you're giving me right now. It's a simplified explanation, but it's the best I've got. I know what I do breaks about a million laws of science, but it is what it is."
The President nodded slowly, letting her words sink in, but a grin spread across his face as the pens shifted and transformed again, this time assembling into the shape of a large stick figure. It almost seemed to come to life, one arm lifting to wave at him in a playful farewell. Then, in a flash, the pens shot back to their holder on his desk, sliding neatly into place as if they had never moved at all.
For a moment, he stared at them, half-expecting them to spring back to life. But no—they were just pens again, still and silent, as though nothing extraordinary had ever happened.
Leaning back into the sofa, the smile on his face was unshakable. He felt like a little kid who had just witnessed the most amazing magic trick—but this was real. "That's incredible," he admitted, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can see how all the work you've put into improving yourself allowed you to save all those people in Los Angeles."
Bella grinned, nodding slightly. "Yeah, I wouldn't have been able to do what I did even a few years ago. Holding that building together as it disintegrated from within was not easy."
Shifting her tone, she dove right into answering the President's other questions. "Now, as for why there were never any reports about what I've done since Chicago, that's easy enough to explain—I didn't want to expose myself to the world. You'll probably find it hard to believe, but at the time, I didn't even know what I had become. I hadn't met anyone else like me, and like you, I'd never heard of anyone having abilities like mine. So, I figured if there were others out there, they were keeping themselves hidden—and I thought I should do the same."
A playful smile tugged at her lips. "I was also afraid of the government. Who knew what you guys might do to someone like me? You know, all those alien autopsies and other fun stuff you're so famous for." She winked, hoping her humor would lighten the mood.
"Honestly, I don't think you have anything that could actually hurt me," she continued, shrugging casually, "but back then, I was still so new to all of this… weirdness. There was so much I didn't know, and I didn't want to take any chances. After that day in Chicago, I helped people where I could, but I always stayed out of sight. No one ever knew when I got involved. I focused on smaller things, learning as I went—preventing street crimes mostly, trying to stop the flow of drugs, things like that. And I always stepped in to protect others from any kind of physical violence, especially against women."
She leaned back slightly, her gaze steady as she reflected. "During that time, I lived a nomadic life. Those first few years were pretty lonely. I had no home and was always on the move. I hadn't felt comfortable revealing what had happened to me to my parents for several years. But slowly, I got accustomed to the new me, and life kept getting progressively better—one year leading into the next.
I got a lot of tips from the movies and bought a police scanner, which I kept in my backpack so I could listen in and hear where my help might be needed. I ended up helping a lot of police officers that way. If they found themselves in a shootout, the bullets somehow always missed when I was around. If they were chasing someone, the suspect might suddenly be knocked out, or during a high-speed chase, the bad guy's car would suddenly break down. For the officers, it probably just felt like they were incredibly lucky, but for me…" She paused, a faint smile crossing her lips. "Any time my actions let good people go home to their families… well, that was a good day."
Her voice softened slightly as she continued. "I lived like that for years, traveling around the country, helping where I could. Eventually, I broadened out, visiting other countries around the world."
Hearing her story, the President felt he had gained a deeper understanding of Starshield's character. Her actions spoke volumes about who she was, and his respect for her had only grown as she opened up. She'd already shared more than he had anticipated, so he hoped she might be willing to offer some insight into her people. "What can you tell me about your race or your people—however you like to think of them?"
Bella took a moment, organizing her thoughts before responding. "Well, I can't tell you what we are, but I'll share enough that I hope will enable you to make informed decisions in the future." She paused briefly, carefully choosing her words. "When I said I didn't know what I'd become at first, that was the absolute truth. For the first few years, I was completely in the dark and had to figure everything out on my own. But about five years into my new life, I finally ran into others like me. Thankfully, they were very nice and filled me in on everything."
Her lips curved into a wide grin as she thought back to those first months living with Peter and Char. "I learned so much from them—things I didn't even realize I needed to know. They even taught me how to fight, which, to my surprise, I absolutely loved." A touch of amusement crept into her voice. "Believe it or not, I was pretty uncoordinated before all of this. Suddenly finding myself athletic and, well, a complete bad-ass was... a shock. But a good one. Sparring with my friends became one of my favorite pastimes, and I've been working on improving my skills ever since."
Her expression sobered slightly as the conversation turned more serious. "But the most important thing they taught me was that my race has laws—very strict laws. And at the center of them all is one rule: keep the secret. Every other law revolves around that. It's enforced quite harshly, and it's why people like me have stayed hidden all this time. I'm sure, hearing this, you can start to imagine just how... complicated things became for me after what happened in Los Angeles."
The president nodded slowly as he absorbed Starshield's words. "Yes. I believe I can." He contemplated everything she had just said, all the while considering what she might be holding back.
"Now, going back to when I first met the others like me," Bella continued, her tone carrying the weight of what she was about to explain. "I lived with them for several months, and during that time, they filled me in on everything—things I never could have imagined. One of the most important things they told me about was the group that ruled over our race and enforced our laws."
She paused briefly, her expression darkening as she thought of the Volturi and carefully considered her next words. "This group had been in power for thousands of years, but sadly, I learned they were not good people. They ruled through fear and violence, and their control was absolute. I also learned something else that surprised me: none of my kind are exactly like me. I had assumed that if I ever met someone like me, we'd be the same, but that wasn't the case. Most of my kind don't have extra abilities like my shield. Those who do are rare, and no two abilities are ever the same."
She leaned forward slightly, her gaze steady on the President. "All of my kind have enhanced speed, strength, sight, and hearing—things like that. But the ones who enforced the laws… they'd built what I guess you could call a police force of individuals with special abilities like mine. Only, they didn't use their powers to help—they used them to control and dominate my race. They called themselves kings, but in reality, they were tyrants. And while I'll admit that, in terms of keeping the secret, they did a good job… everyone feared and despised them."
Bella paused, letting her words hang in the air as the weight of what she'd shared settled over the room.
The President shifted in his seat, crossing one leg over the other reflexively, his jaw tightening as he processed the unvarnished truth of what Starshield had just revealed. A group of people like her, with powers beyond human comprehension, ruling through fear? The thought was chilling. What chance would humans have against someone like Superman, let alone an entire group of them? His thoughts churned with the implications, but he forced himself to refocus, his attention locking back on her as her voice continued, steady and unwavering.
"Now let's get to last month." Bella exhaled slowly, her expression hardening. "What I did in Los Angeles—I know it was the right thing to do. Helping all those people, saving their lives… I have no regrets. But I broke our laws in the most severe way possible." She paused, noting the President's intense focus, his eyes locked on her. Deciding bluntness was best, she continued, "In the past, if there was an exposure incident—if a human, or humans, saw something they shouldn't have—this group always found a way to cover it up. And, sadly, that meant silencing the humans involved, along with the offender who broke the law."
Her voice took on a firmer edge. "That kind of cleanup was easier in the past, before humans advanced technologically—before TV, the internet, and smartphones. Living in today's world, my kind has to be extremely careful to hide who they really are because, once something is caught on camera and shared with millions, there's no undoing it. What I did in Los Angeles… there was no covering that up. I was out there, in the open, for all the world to see. Whether that turns out to be for good or ill—well, I suppose we'll just have to wait and see how the future plays out."
The President sat back slightly, her words striking him harder than he'd expected. Her people were dangerous—he had already suspected as much—but hearing her confirm that they killed anyone who learned about them sent a chill through him. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing, sensing she wasn't done. His eyes stayed fixed on her, silently urging her to continue.
"They came for me." Her voice was calm, but an undercurrent of restrained anger ran through it. "I knew they would, so I stayed in Los Angeles to meet them. I wanted to explain myself—to try to justify why I did what I did." The memory of her brief time with the Volturi surfaced, pulling her focus inward. "They brought me to the leaders of my kind, and let me tell you, the horror stories I'd heard about them weren't exaggerated. Those men… they were the most evil people I'd ever encountered."
Her tone dropped slightly, the weight of her next words heavy in the air. "They sentenced me to death for my actions—but that was just a pretense. What they really wanted was to force me to join them. They saw how powerful I was, and they wanted to add me to their collection of enforcers—their so-called 'guard'—to help maintain their grip over my world. They didn't care about justice, or the laws they claimed to uphold. It was all about control and increasing their power."
Bella's voice sharpened, her anger flashing through her composed exterior. "They demanded that I become their servant, their weapon, for the rest of my life. And if I refused, they made it very clear just how far they were willing to go to break me. They threatened to lock me away in their dungeon and then start killing my family, one by one. And after my family, they'd move on to my friends—both the ones like me and the friends I'd had from my human life. They promised to kill every single person I'd ever cared about if I didn't agree to become their slave."
The President's thoughts churned as he processed what Starshield had just revealed. The situation she described sounded nothing short of horrific. He couldn't imagine what someone would do when faced with an ultimatum like that—join a group of tyrants or lose everyone and everything they'd ever cared about. The weight of it pressed against him, leaving his throat dry. He swallowed reflexively, his gaze lingering on her, searching for any sign of how she had managed to escape such an impossible situation.
For the first time, a shadow of doubt crept into his mind, his advisors' warnings echoing in his thoughts, their voices cautioning him about the dangers of sitting face-to-face with an unknown entity of such immense power. He shifted slightly in his seat, acutely aware of the sheer unpredictability of the woman sitting across from him. Yet even in the face of those warnings, he couldn't ignore the calm resolve in her demeanor and had to trust his gut instincts. Whatever had happened, she was here now, sharing her story, and he needed to hear the rest of it.
"Now, as I've said, this group liked to think of themselves as kings and demanded to be called Master. They had worn those titles for so long that they truly believed themselves invincible. Over millennia, they had amassed an army of the most powerful among my kind—a force unlike anything the world had ever seen. No individual or group had ever been able to stand against them." Bella paused, the weight of what came next pulling her thoughts inward.
"They left me no choice." Her voice hardened, each word measured. "I would not allow myself to be subjugated or imprisoned, and I would never let any harm come to my family or my friends. I told them they were making a mistake. I warned them not to push me—but they refused to listen." She exhaled slowly, her expression growing sharper. "Like the rest of my race, I can be quite violent when I need to be. And if there was ever a time that called for it, it was right then."
Her tone dropped, each word striking like a hammer. "When they moved to restrain me, I fought back. I slaughtered them all. Every. Last. One. Of. Them."
The room seemed to shrink under the weight of her confession. Silence stretched between them, heavy with the significance of her words. Bella held the President's gaze, unflinching, as the full meaning of her admission settled between them.
And for the first time, she saw fear reflected back in his eyes.
To Be Continued…
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Be sure to come back next time when I reveal the rest of their meeting in Words of Warning. As always, I love hearing what you all have to say, so please comment and share your thoughts.
