Bella, Mary, Jake, Leah, Alice, Jasper

A few days before the grand meeting with all my supernatural friends, I had the idea to get Alice, Jasper, and Jake and Leah in the same space first—to try and bury the hatchet. I didn't want the meeting with everyone to be waylaid by old prejudice.

I had been taking ideas from my covenmates on what to do, where to meet. I'm not sure who suggested it first. It was probably Kate, knowing her as one part chaos gremlin and the other part… also chaos gremlin.

Either way, we were here. We pulled up and exited from the car. At a bowling alley. A very public, very human bowling alley. With a pack of wolves. And two highly competitive vampires.

This was going to end in fire or property damage.

Entirely against my will, I had been elected to sort the teams—by virtue of being the only one that really knew everyone here.

Team One: Myself, Mary, and Jake.
Team Two: Alice (who was delighted she couldn't see this coming for some reason), Jasper, and Leah—who was immediately ruining my hopes of reconciliation by scowling at Alice like she'd personally insulted her mother.

"So… just to clarify," Jake said, looking between the two groups. "You put me, and two humans—one of whom is barely coordinated—on a team against two vampires and a shapeshifter."

"Hey, I resent that accusation," I immediately replied. "I grew out of my clumsiness, thank you very much."

Mary also gave him a flat look and an offended scoff. "I'll have you know I was on my high school bowling team."

At that, Jake and I both turned to give her an appraising look.

Mary's confidence faltered. "Once. I was on it once. I got benched."

Jake groaned. "We're doomed."

Across the aisle, Leah was already cracking her knuckles, eyeing Alice like she was about to challenge her to a duel at dawn.

Alice beamed back, entirely unbothered.

"Guys… same team," I interjected.

No response.

Jasper, meanwhile, looked vaguely amused as he set up the scoreboard. He had the aura of a man who had been through many wars but had never seen one as brutal as what was about to unfold.

Jake rolled up to bowl first. He looked comically large framed against the lane.

He picked up the heaviest ball (because? Why?), and with a single step, launched it down the lane so hard that it cracked against the pins like a gunshot. I was pretty sure one of the pins split.

It was, however, a strike.

Jake turned around smugly, preening already, accepting a high-five from Mary.

Leah rolled her eyes, unimpressed. "That's cool and all, but can you do it without breaking it for everyone else?"

Alice stepped up next. "Would you like me to go easy on you?" she asked Leah, voice dripping with fake innocence.

Leah's entire face morphed into a rictus of pure competitiveness. "Try it, leech."

Alice picked up a ball that weighed maybe half a gram, took a single delicate step forward, and—effortlessly rolled a perfect strike.

Leah's eye twitched.

Jake slow-clapped. "Wow. Truly inspiring, Cullen."

Alice beamed. "I know!"

Leah snarled and picked up her own ball, eyes blazing with a determination that could have incinerated the whole damn alley.

She threw the ball so hard, it ricocheted off the back wall, knocked over a pin from the lane next to them, and hit the gutter.

Mary started wheezing.

Leah turned slowly, rage simmering beneath the surface.

Alice looked delighted.

Jasper just shook his head. "I don't think anger improves your aim, Leah."

Leah scowled. "Maybe I should practice on your head instead, Texas."

Against all logic, common sense, and statistical probability—Jake and Mary?

They were a deadly bowling combo.

"How the hell is this happening?" I muttered as Mary landed her third spare in a row.

Jake grinned, throwing his hand up for a fist bump. "She's my secret weapon."

Alice watched them, amused. "You two actually work well together."

Jake rolled his eyes. "Don't sound so surprised."

Mary, whose expression had been relaxed and happy all evening, tensed up.

We had a few terse turns before she finally managed to get out, "Do you think it's related to the imprint?"

Leah and Jake both twitched a little.

Jake scrubbed a hand over his head. "I mean, it could be, yeah? Does it change things if it is? It's pretty low down on things that impact your life. Supernaturally good bowling duo."

Mary snorted and then shook her head. "Yeah, I guess." She then flicked her eyes at the rest of the party members. "Sorry for harshing the vibe, I guess it's just been on my mind."

Everyone, myself included, made the obligatory "it's fine" sounds.

Jake just waved it off. "I feel like we explained it to you wrong. If you took the imprint out of the equation, and you never knew about it—we would still just end up being great friends."

Mary thought that through as she bowled another turn.

"But… it usually means something romantic, right?" she said slowly.

Jake just shrugged. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean it has to be that way. It just means we're connected—like, deeply. I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything."

Mary rolled her shoulders. "But you will need to be around, right? Like around me. Here, in Alaska."

"Yup." Jake popped the 'P' as he replied. "If you'll have me. I'm not intolerable, right?" said with a grin.

"I guess." Mary rolled her eyes. "I just feel bad. This couldn't be what you planned for your life, right?"

"Hmm," Jake mused. "I just have the feeling it will all work out, you know? I'm not upset by what's happened."

"That's the imprint talking," Leah snarked.

"Sure, sure," Jake responded. "You're up, human," he said, tilting his head toward me.

At the end of the night, the teams were tied. (Because Jasper rigged it to avoid a fight.)

Leah sighed, stretching. "Well. That wasn't the worst night of my life."

Jake rolled his eyes. "Such high praise."

Alice grinned. "It's fine. You'll get used to us eventually."

Leah scowled but didn't argue. Instead, she just eyed Jasper warily, like she was still deciding whether or not he was the second-most annoying Cullen.

Jake, meanwhile, nudged Mary. "Hey. If I ever get stuck at some awful supernatural event again, I'm dragging you with me."

Mary mock-gasped. "What's next? Water polo with mermaids?"

Jake groaned. "Don't ruin it, human."

Bella, watching them joking and bantering, felt something inside her untense.

If tonight went well, maybe—just maybe—the big meeting wouldn't end in a supernatural brawl. Maybe.

Tanya, Irina, Kate, Carmen, Eleazar

Kate approached the table in a black trench coat, hat, and sunglasses.

She took a small case from her coat pocket and flipped it open with theatrical precision. Her fingers trailed over the items inside before selecting one and bringing it to her lips.

In her other hand, in a smooth motion, she clicked the lighter open, struck it, and lit the cigarette.

Smoke curled lazily through the air, obscuring her face in a veil of calculated mystery. She exhaled slowly, deliberately, before tilting her head and murmuring, "Tonight, comrades, we make history."

The family started at her.

Then Irina facepalmed. "You are literally ridiculous."

Kate was smirking, tapping the end of the cigarette against the rim of an empty glass. "It's all about the aesthetic." She took another slow, deliberate drag-purely for the drama.

Irina groaned. "I'm leaving."

"No, you're not," Kate said, pointing at the board. "You still have three territories left, and I am going to personally see that you lose them all."

Irina narrowed her eyes. "You have a vendetta against me."

"I have a vendetta against everyone," Kate corrected, flashing a wicked grin.

Carmen, ever the diplomat, sipped her tea. "Irina, cariño, you brought this upon yourself when you allied with Tanya."

Tanya, sprawled out in her chair like an old-world emperor, offered a slow, satisfied smile. "It was a beautiful alliance."

Kate scowled. "It was a cowardly alliance."

Irina scoffed. "Oh, please. Like you haven't betrayed someone at this table tonight."

Kate just grinned, unrepentant. "That's the game."

Eleazar sighed; he was ever the pragmatist. "We could play something else."

Tanya gasped, as if offended. "And let Kate win by default? Absolutely not. No surrender. No peace."

Kate leaned forward, bracing her elbows on the table. "It's Risk, Tanya. Not an actual battlefield."

"You should have thought about that before you wiped out my entire European foothold," Tanya shot back.

"You should not have left your borders undefended," Kate said with a smirk as she rolled the dice with quick flicks of the wrist. "And now, I take Mongolia."

Tanya's expression darkened. "You touch Mongolia, and I will ruin you."

Kate cocked an eyebrow. "Oh? And just what do you plan to do, dear sister?"

Tanya was silent for a long, tense moment.

Then, she calmly reached for Kate's wine glass, picked it up, and downed the entire thing in one fluid motion.

Kate gasped.

Carmen's lips quivered and Eleazar openly laughed.

"You brute," Kate whispered, laying her hand on her heart. "That was a 1901 Pinot Noir. Did you even savour it?"

Tanya wiped the corner of her mouth and smiled. "It was decadent."

Kate looked personally betrayed.

Irina shook her head. "Can we please just finish the game?"

Carmen cocked her head, eyes sparkling. "No. Let's make it more interesting."

Kate perked up. "Now this I like."

Eleazar sighed. "We should not-"

"I'll bet control of Kamchatka," Carmen said, moving her pieces delicately around. "If I lose it, I'll let Kate pick the playlist for dinner tomorrow."

Kate's whole demeanor changed. "Oh-ho. Now we're talking."

"If I win," Carmen went on, smooth, "I take all of your South American territories."

Kate peered. "No neutral zones?"

Carmen shook her head. "All of it."

Kate considered this. The risk was high—but the reward?

"Accepted," she exclaimed, tossing up the dice.

The battle began.

Tanya leaned back, satisfied, watching the carnage unfold with an air of detached amusement.

Irina grumbled under her breath as she again lost another county.

Eleazar poured himself another drink.

Carmen, serene as always, moved her pieces with the ruthless efficiency of one who had lived a very, very long time.

And Kate?

Kate thrived in the chaos.

The war raged on. And in the end? Nobody really won.

But that wasn't the point, anyway.