AN: This should've been uploaded yesterday, but I was so busy :(
Anywho, here you are :) Thanks for your reviews! Boo FFN for being so glitchy as well, lol. I know a few people were having trouble seeing the chapters but hopefully everyone gets a chance to read it! (be careful, as FFN might make you miss a chapter :))
I'll be uploading the next chapter today as well, as soon as I finish editing it, so it should come relatively quickly after this one, to make up for missing a day :D
Seven Devils: Florence + The Machine
The house buzzed with quiet preparation as 6:00 p.m. loomed closer. The energy had shifted from the earlier tensions—now, there was only focus, a singularity of purpose that settled over them like an unspoken agreement.
This was happening.
And they had one shot to get it right.
No one could stop moving, checking and rechecking their gear. Emmett sat at the kitchen table, disassembling his rifle with a practiced movements, wiping down the barrel before snapping it back together in seconds.
Rosalie worked on the comms, adjusting the frequency, running low murmured tests to ensure their lines wouldn't go dead once inside. Security measures in a facility like this were bound to include signal jammers—she was already working on a workaround. Every few seconds, her sharp blue eyes flicked to Alice for confirmation, the two of them operating in perfect sync.
Alice hovered over her tablet, scrolling through the facility's blueprints for what had to be the hundredth time. Her fingers flew over the screen as she reviewed every hallway, every security measure, every blind spot. She was muttering to herself, whispering calculations and contingencies, refining their route down to the last possible variable. No surprises. That was the goal.
Edward stood near the window, methodically preparing their weapons. His movements were precise, mechanical, but Bella could see the tension in his frame—the tightness in his jaw, the way his fingers curled just a little too tightly around the magazine before loading it into place. The table beside him was lined with an arsenal suited for a warzone.
There was a mix of suppressed SIG MCX Virtus rifles, an assortment of Glock 19X's or Sig Sauer P226's, chambered with subsonic rounds for each of them. Two blocks of C-4 plastic explosives, each rigged with remote detonators—enough to take down a lab without leveling the entire block. And lastly, smoke grenades, flashbangs, and breaching charges. Alice had also secured a few EMP devices to temporarily knock out surveillance feeds.
Bella sat on the couch, her back straight, her hands tightening around the gun in her lap as Jasper settled beside her, eyeing her carefully.
"Alright," he said, voice even, as he pulled out his own weapon. "One more time."
Bella nodded, inhaling through her nose as she ran through the mechanics of it. She had learned this. She had gone over it repeatedly before with Edward. But tonight was different. Tonight, it mattered in a way it never had before.
She took the gun apart piece by piece, calling out the names of each component as she did. "Slide. Barrel. Recoil spring assembly…" Her voice was steady, but her hands had the slightest tremor to them. She willed them to stop. She couldn't afford nerves.
Jasper nodded approvingly. "Good. Again."
She exhaled, then reassembled it, slotting the pieces together, her pulse thrumming under her skin. When the last piece was in place, she racked the slide, chambering a round. The click echoed in the quiet, sharp and final.
Jasper studied her, his gaze thoughtful. "You ready?" he asked.
Bella flexed her fingers around the grip, feeling the weight of it. It still didn't feel natural in her hands, not the way it did for the others. But it felt necessary. And she could work with necessary.
"Yeah," she murmured. "I'm ready."
She wasn't sure if that was the truth, but it was close enough.
As she set the gun aside, her mind ran over the plan again, dissecting it, memorizing each piece until it felt ingrained in her bones.
Sector Three—Security Operations. That was their first target.
They had to take out surveillance first. Cameras, motion detectors, alarms—if they tripped anything, backup would be on them in minutes. Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie would handle the takedown, moving fast and quiet, disabling the control room before anyone inside had a chance to react.
Once security was down, the team would split.
Sector One—Research.
She, Edward, and Alice would move in. They had to get to her original files—the research that had been stolen and warped into something deadly. Every server, every hard drive, every physical document had to be accounted for. Alice had designed an override program, something that would corrupt the digital backups, ensuring that even if the physical data was destroyed, there would be nothing left to recover.
Destroying her own work should have been easy. It was what she had wanted from the moment she realized what they had done with it. And yet, a part of her still recoiled at the thought. Years of work. Thousands of hours, sleepless nights, breakthroughs and failures, all leading to something that should have been for the betterment of medicine—now nothing more than a weapon of mass murder.
She swallowed hard, gripping the gun again.
No. She couldn't afford to think like that. Her work didn't exist anymore—not in the way she had intended. It had been twisted into something that couldn't be salvaged.
It needed to burn.
Sector Two—Production.The final step.
Once they secured the research, they would regroup and plant charges in the production sector. This was the part that made her stomach churn. The cytotoxin wasn't just in development—it was already being synthesized. That meant it was volatile, unpredictable. If they blew it up wrong, if even a trace of it was released into the air…
She shook the thought away. No room for doubt. Alice had mapped out the best places for the charges—containment zones where the explosion would incinerate everything within, ensuring no remnants could escape.
They had planned for every possibility. But plans could go wrong.
And if things did go wrong… Bella knew what that meant.
She straightened, forcing her breathing to steady. No fear. No second-guessing. The plan was solid. They were ready.
Emmett let out a low whistle from across the room, stretching his massive arms over his head like he was getting ready for a casual Sunday jog rather than bulldozing through a lab to stop biochemical warfare. "Alright, kids. Time to lock in. If you haven't gone to the bathroom yet, now's the time, because once we're in there, there's no fucking pit stops."
Jasper snorted, slouching in his chair as he loaded a fresh magazine into his rifle. "Thanks for the heads-up, Mom. Should we all line up and hold hands on the way there?"
Alice, still staring at her tablet, flicked her gaze up briefly. "Em, you always say that before a mission. And yet, you're the one who nearly pissed yourself in Novosibirsk."
Rosalie smirked. "Oh yeah, I remember that. You were sweating bullets."
"That was different," Emmett said, pointing a finger at her. "First of all, that was a seven-hour stakeout, and someone—" he jabbed a thumb at Alice "—told me we'd be in and out in three."
Alice shrugged unapologetically. "I accounted for everything except you chugging two full bottles of water like a dumbass right before we got in position."
Emmett scowled. "Hydration is important, Pixie."
Bella couldn't help but smile at the interaction, but her gaze wandered over to Edward again. They hadn't gotten a chance to talk after James and Jake left, and she didn't want any animosity between them before the start of this shitstorm.
"Edward," she said softly, stopping just a few feet away from him.
He glanced over his shoulder, his face impassive, unreadable. "What's up?"
Bella took a few more steps closer, hesitating for only a moment. "Can we talk?"
Edward set down the magazine he'd been loading and turned to face her fully. "Sure."
Now that she had his full attention, Bella suddenly felt the weight of everything she wanted to say pressing against her ribs. She shifted her weight slightly, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt before looking up at him. "About earlier… I'm not going to apologize."
Edward raised an eyebrow, but his expression wasn't as sharp as it had been in the yard. He nodded once, waiting. "Okay."
"I meant what I said," Bella continued, keeping her voice steady. "I needed to make sure Jake was safe. I get why you're upset, and I get why it was risky, but I had to do it."
Edward's jaw clenched slightly, but there was no anger in his eyes. Just something heavier, something she couldn't quite name. He nodded again, slower this time. "I understand why you did it. I just need you to understand that right now, there are only a handful of people we can trust. Every time we reach out, every time we make contact, we take a risk—no matter how small it seems."
Bella exhaled, letting his words sink in. "I know," she said finally. "And I do get it. I'm not trying to make things harder. I should've went to you guys first."
Edward's gaze lingered on her, and for a moment, he didn't respond. The others were still preoccupied with whatever preparations they had left, not paying too much attention to the two of them.
Finally, Edward sighed, leaning back against the table. He rolled his shoulders once, but the tension in them didn't dissipate. "This isn't easy for me," he admitted, voice quieter now, like he was saying it more to himself than to her. "Letting people in… trusting them. It's not something I've done in a long time."
Bella's chest tightened at his words. She stepped closer, watching him carefully. "Why not?"
Edward hesitated. It was subtle—the small shift in his stance, the flicker of something unreadable in his expression—but she caught it. When he finally spoke, his voice was even, but there was a weight to it. "Because trusting people gets you hurt," he said simply. "Or worse, it gets them hurt."
Bella's fingers curled into fists at her sides. She could hear it in his voice—the things he wasn't saying. The past that had left its marks on him. The people he had lost. The choices that still haunted him.
She swallowed, her voice softer now. "Edward…"
He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I've seen it happen too many times, Bella. So I keep my distance. It's easier that way."
She understood that. God, did she understand it. For years, she had done the same—kept herself isolated, buried in her work, convinced that emotional attachments were a liability. But then this had happened. And suddenly, she wasn't just fighting for herself anymore.
She took another step closer, her voice quiet. "I'm not going anywhere, Edward. I'm here, and I'm in this with you."
Edward's eyes flicked to hers, and for a moment, he just looked at her. Really looked at her. And whatever walls he had built up, whatever careful distance he had tried to keep between them—it cracked even more.
"I know," he said, so softly she barely heard it. Then, with a humorless chuckle, he added, "And that scares the hell out of me."
Bella felt her breath hitch, something catching in her chest. But she didn't look away. She didn't pull back.
She just nodded. "Yeah. Me too."
They stood there, the space between them charged with something that felt fragile and unspoken, but real. Something neither of them had time to figure out, not now, but something that wouldn't just go away.
Edward let out a slow breath, straightening. His voice was lighter when he spoke again, but the seriousness didn't leave his eyes. "We've got a long night ahead. Let's make sure we're ready for it."
Bella nodded, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips. "Agreed."
Edward held her gaze for a second longer before stepping back, picking up his weapon again. And just like that, the moment was over.
But the shift between them remained.
By six, they were fully geared up, dressed head to toe in black, their tactical vests bristling with ammunition and equipment. Their faces were set, hardened, ready.
Bella fastened the last strap on her vest, inhaling deeply as she flexed her fingers at her sides. The weight of the gear pressed against her, grounding her in reality. This wasn't a simulation. This wasn't theory.
They were about to storm a fortress.
Across the room, Rosalie tightened the straps of her vest, her piercing blue eyes sweeping over the group. "Everyone good?"
Emmett cracked his neck, slinging his rifle over his shoulder with a cocky grin. "Good? I'm great. Let's kick some fucking ass."
Jasper, crouched near the table, double-checking his gear, snorted. "Careful there, Em. Don't want you busting a nut from all the excitement before we even get inside."
Emmett scoffed, rolling his shoulders. "Fuck you, Whitty. And please. If anyone's nutting early, it's gonna be Eddie. He gets all tense before a fight, then BAM—mission adrenaline, and he's hard as a rock."
Edward barely looked up, used the absurd shit that came out of Emmett's mouth. "You spend way too much time thinking about my dick, Emmett."
Alice grinned as she snapped a magazine into place. "Yeah, Em. You trying to tell us something?"
"Listen, I respect a man who takes his combat performance seriously," Emmett said, holding up his hands. "Ain't no shame in a tactical boner."
Rosalie let out a long-suffering sigh, but there was amusement dancing in her eyes. "Oh my God, can we focus? Just for five fucking minutes?"
"Technically," Alice chimed in, adjusting her earpiece, "this is how we focus. Shit talk is an important part of the pre-mission process. It's called morale-building."
Jasper nodded, deadpan. "Yeah. Studies show that groups who talk shit before battle have a 37% higher survival rate."
Edward rolled his eyes. "That's bullshit."
Jasper grinned. "Maybe. Maybe not. You wanna risk it?"
Rosalie groaned. "I swear to God, if I get shot because you idiots distracted me with talk about battle erections, I will haunt you all."
Emmett slung an arm around her shoulders, grinning. "Babe, you already haunt me. Every night. My sleep paralysis demon looks just like you."
Rosalie elbowed him in the ribs, making him grunt, but she smirked anyway.
Alice checked the time on her tablet, her expression shifting. "Alright, assholes, fun's over."
Emmett kissed his fingers and pressed them to his rifle. "Let's fuck some shit up."
Bella's pulse kicked up, but she forced herself to breathe. Focus. Stay present. You've got this.
They did one final sweep, ensuring every strap was secure, every piece of gear was in place.
Bella adjusted the holster at her thigh, exhaling as she ran through her part of the mission. Sector One. Security. Disable the surveillance, cut their communications, and shut down the entire grid. If they failed that first step, the rest of the plan wouldn't matter. They wouldn't make it past the front doors.
She had gone over it again and again, the movements playing like a loop in her mind. Move fast. Keep low. Jasper would be ahead of her, Emmett flanking him, Rosalie covering them. Bella would be the one hacking into their internal systems—bypassing security locks, triggering protocol shutdowns, turning their entire defense system into a goddamn ghost town. She knew the system better than anyone.
She wouldn't fail.
A presence beside her broke through her thoughts.
Edward.
She didn't need to turn to know it was him—his presence was something she could feel, something she had come to recognize as sharply as her own breath. But when she did glance over, she found him watching her.
Without a word, he reached for the strap on her vest, adjusting it slightly, fingers grazing against the fabric. His movements were careful, but his touch lingered just a second too long.
"Are you sure?" he asked, voice low.
Bella met his gaze. There was no hesitation in hers.
"Yes."
Edward studied her, something flickering behind his eyes—then, finally, he gave a small nod. "Alright."
His hand lingered against her shoulder for half a second longer before he lifted his hand, his fingers brushing against the back of her neck, pulling her toward him.
Bella barely had time to react before his forehead pressed against hers, his skin heated against hers. Their eyes closed at the same time, their breaths slow, their bodies still except for the faint, nearly imperceptible tremor in Edward's grip.
His voice was low, rough with something raw and unspoken. "We're going to get out of this," he murmured. "We're going to be okay."
Bella swallowed, her throat tight.
Edward's fingers flexed against her skin. "I'm going to get you that drink," he continued, voice just above a whisper. Because he was tired of living only halfway—and so was Bella. "And I'm going to play for you. Every night. Just like I promised."
Something in Bella cracked. She felt the tears sting the back of her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. Instead, she tilted her head just slightly and pressed a soft, ginger kiss to the side of his mouth.
It wasn't desperate. It wasn't hurried.
It was a promise.
Edward exhaled sharply, his grip on her tightening for the briefest moment before he finally—reluctantly—pulled back.
Alice's voice cut through the moment, her lips pulled into a grin as she stared over at them. "Alright, lovebirds. I'll hound you guys after we blow shit up. But now, we seriously gotta move."
The countdown had begun.
Bella squared her shoulders, inhaling deeply.
There was no turning back now.
They filed out to the van, their steps deliberate, purposeful. The sun had dipped below the horizon, shadows stretching long over the landscape. They loaded up in silence, the air thick with anticipation, the quiet hum of adrenaline settling in their bones.
Edward slid into the driver's seat, hands steady on the wheel. Bella took her place beside him, her gaze flicking toward him once more.
She wet her lips, forcing herself to breathe. "We've got this," she said quietly, more to herself than anyone else.
Edward's eyes met hers, then dropped his hand to wrap her fingers in his. "Yeah," he said, voice rough. "We do."
The van rumbled to life.
And then they were gone, disappearing into the night.