Chapter 2 – Citizen's Arrest

Three seconds after Ariel began dumping her dirty laundry into the janky old washer, Paul appeared behind her like a life-size Whac-A-Mole peg, snatched a handful of unmentionables out of midair, and snarled, "What the hell?!"

Taking a brief moment to arch an eyebrow at the much taller teen, Ari carefully reached up to pluck several pairs of panties and a tank top out of his shuddering grip and drawl, "The hell indeed, Steve. For the record, we will never be that kind of cousins."

He turned redder than she'd previously thought his complexion would allow. But the influx of ruddiness didn't lessen the behemoth's anger, of course, and he bellowed, "Where were you before you came here?! Who were you with?!"

Because she didn't see a reason not to tell him (let alone a reason that had to do with her dirty undies) (especially given the fact that he seemed to have lost his shirt somewhere between the truck and the door and really should've been concerned with keeping track of his own clothing rather than fondling hers), Ari replied, "I spent a few months in Rome. Some associates of my father escorted me most of the way back. I convinced them not to endure the final leg, as it would inevitably involve laying eyes on my mother. One can never be too careful about when she's going to start turning people to stone with naught but a look, after all."

Paul seemed to mull that over, his expression remaining enraged but taking on a distinct shade of queasiness and panic as well.

Odd boy, Ariel thought, disregarding his continued presence in favor of returning to laundry duties. On her Italian adventure, she'd been carrying only a handful of outfits—mostly nondescript denims and cottons as well as some souvenir shirts. However, the limited wardrobe would need to suffice until she could arrange to have her belongings sent over from the storage facility to which she'd shipped them. (Anton would've been suspicious if she left too much behind, but she hadn't wanted to give Lina unrestricted access to her possessions by simply releasing them to their final destination. Ari actually felt a bit proud of the ruse.)

The petite girl would also be treating herself to a new mattress and bedframe; the ones that Lina had provided were entirely unusable. The house itself—really more of a quaint cabin nestled at the end of a secluded woodland lane—was small but structurally sound and honestly better than most of the places they'd occupied during their previous attempt at cohabitation; there were two bedrooms, two full bathrooms, electricity, and running water, at least. The cleanliness factor was nowhere near acceptable, but that could and would be easily remedied once Ari acquired a copious amount of cleaning products and a free afternoon. However, the girl drew the line at sleeping on a lumpy, suspiciously stained twin that squealed worse than gerbils in a blender.

"The guys you were with," Paul ventured, in that hesitant way unsubtle individuals adopt when they want information but don't want to reveal too much of their own in return, "Did they… do anything… weird to you? Hurt you at all?"

With a skeptical sideways glance, Ariel replied, "Demetri and Felix were perfectly pleasant and quite entertaining. My father wouldn't have sent anyone who was going to hurt me. Though he apparently did give them permission to use chloroform if I refused to cooperate."

Paul appeared to grow more high-strung by the second—somehow panting yet trying to hold his breath at the same time while his bulky frame vibrated like the tail end of a rattler. He finally whirled away with a shouted, "I'll be back in an hour! Don't leave!"

A contrarian to the core, Ari stuck around only long enough to turn on the antique washing machine and force her phone to produce a map of the immediate area—she didn't want to set the precedent of letting Paul boss her around, and anyways, Lina's melodramatic bawling from where she'd posed herself upon the living room's hideous plaid sofa was becoming intolerable. Ari stepped through the front door, across the small porch, and down the front steps, pausing to take a deep, cleansing breath before ambling away in the direction of the settlement through which they'd briefly passed at the end of their lengthy, mostly silent, entirely uncomfortable drive from the airport.

Having adapted well to city life, Ariel tended to measure walking distance by number of blocks rather than number of miles. However, as the sparsely paved backroads of La Push had no such handy landmarks (and since she didn't like being constantly glued to a screen), the girl set aside any concept of quantifying her wandering and just… well, wandered.

Even illuminated by only a faint dusting of sunshine sifted through heavy cloud cover, the multitude of verdant and stalwart trees provided a lovely backdrop for her stroll. Some primordial part of her subconscious reveled in the solitude, in the sensation of being adrift alone amongst the vastness of nature with only wit and brawn and sheer luck standing between her survival and all the beasties that might deign to try for a quick snack. In fact, had Lina not figured into the scenario, Ari readily admitted that she wouldn't have minded living there and getting to know her previously undiscovered family—even if all she gained from the experience was a few months of breathing top-quality oxygen.

The thick mist was a bit bothersome, and Ari also made a mental note to invest in rain gear and hiking boots and long johns. Oh, and an umbrella. And perhaps some new hair-care products, if the humidity caused her hair to frizz.

Ugh. If Ari's hair frizzed, Lina was getting murdered in her sleep.

Undetermined time and space passed peacefully; looming evergreens thinned from the roadsides to make way for civilization, and the ocean's distant roar echoed between the squat wooden buildings that lined the tiny checkerboard of narrow thoroughfares. Ari identified a general store and a grocery store, a diner and a bar, some kitschy tourist shops—all weather-beaten and, if she had to guess, probably owned by third- or fourth-generation descendants of the families that originally cobbled the structures together in an era before power tools. She assumed there was a school somewhere near, but she wouldn't be attending, having completed her graduation credits two and a half years ahead of typical examples of her age group shortly before receiving the horrific news of Lina's meddling. Though Ariel didn't pass the specific edifices, she saw crooked signs for a police outpost and a post office and a medical clinic. A library would've been a nice find, but she figured that if such a small community had one, it was likely attached to the school and concerned mostly with local tribal traditions.

Far from unpopulated, the town nevertheless boasted few residents out and about. Russet-skinned, long-haired men, women, girls, and boys were in the majority, many scurrying around on routine business, others lounging in groups and clusters under overhangs and in truck beds. Salt and wind had eroded much of the wood, metal, glass, stone, and paint left behind by their ancestors, but on the whole, the Quileute people just seemed livelier and more amaranthine for daring to exist amidst such conspicuous reminders of decay's slow yet inexorable tithe.

Ariel received a lot of attention, a full array of glances, stares, whispers, and even some pointing and cat-calling as she marched onward like a one-woman parade. She'd expected such treatment, of course, being a peculiar new face suddenly loosed into a collection of if not tightly knit, then at least hopelessly tangled lives. It was simple biology and true even at a cellular level: closed systems presented with intruders either absorb, isolate, or attack them. Which response she'd experience remained to be seen; it certainly wouldn't be the first time her looks alone had garnered hostility from those who simply couldn't abide outliers and anomalies.

She'd always likened the phenomenon to that hoary half-empty, half-full adage. Except where her mixed race was concerned, the attitude went more along the lines of not enough of one, too little of the other.

Lost in thought, Ariel didn't immediately notice that she'd left the town proper and nearly arrived at the dreary beach; she also didn't immediately notice the shirtless victim of pituitary gigantism who stepped directly and seemingly purposely into her path until she found herself startling to a halt just outside his considerable reach and staring eye-to-nipple with his considerable pectorals.

Ari fought not to scowl; really, how rude. However, in the interest of avoiding a pointless confrontation (which one should always strive to do when confronted with huge half-naked strangers), she murmured, "Excuse me," and tried to move around him.

He side-stepped and stopped, once more blocking her desired route.

Craning her neck back and fixing the grinning, incongruously baby-faced man with a look of flat irritation, Ariel repeated in a much more impatient tone, "Excuse me."

"Hi!" the stranger chirped, bright-eyed and apparently immune to social cues, "I'm Seth Clearwater…"

xxXxx

"Ok, so…" Sam grunted as he kneaded the visibly throbbing vein in his right temple, "That's… interesting… but these supposed vampire bodyguards aren't actually anywhere near La Push, right?"

Huffing and thoroughly annoyed that his alpha wasn't treating the situation with the seriousness it deserved, Paul complained, "You're missing the point! Someone sent leeches after a family member I didn't even know I had! That can't be a coincidence!"

Sam snorted. He spared the younger wolf a mocking glance before stating, "You said her dad is a lawyer and a politician. Is it really so farfetched to think he's in league with vamps for reasons that have nothing to do with us?"

Paul… had not considered such a scenario… Fuck, were vamps stinking up the whole government, or was it just Ariel's dad who was being a dumbass and fraternizing with the venomous abominations? What a prick. Like turning his kid into a spooky little robot wasn't bad enough.

"At this point," Sam grumbled, yawning and clearly wrecked from the effort of round-the-clock patrolling in search of the elusive red-haired leech, "Unless the problem crosses our borders, I just don't give a damn. We're stretched far too thin as it is."

With another huff, Paul agreed, "Fine. But I'm telling the pack to keep an eye on her. And if my cousin gets eaten, I'm kicking your ass."

Sam muttered something along the lines of Whatever, like you could, as he rolled back over on the creaky, too-small couch and returned to his interrupted nap, complete with chainsaw snoring.

While far from pleased with the lack of reaction, Paul recognized (belatedly) that there wasn't much they could do in response to the absurd situation. He liked his vamp sightings much simpler, more along the lines of Look! A blood-sucking trespasser! Let's kill it! To know that his tiny, helpless cousin (who was kind of weird and terrifying but still his, damn it) had been traveling with two of them, that she had unknowingly socialized with violent death, and that there was nothing he could do pissed Paul off to no end.

Aware and uncaring of the fact that he was broadcasting his frustration at a level that translated to shouting into a mental bullhorn, the burly teen phased and allowed the full events of the day to flood into the minds suddenly attached to his own.

Dude!

No way!

Who's the lucky baby daddy?

Hey! Imprinting is not incestuous!

Since the leech infestation had stepped up, they'd been patrolling in fours rather than twos, but Paul was a little surprised to identify a Quil–Embry–Jared–Seth team rather than the expected Leah–Jacob–Jared–Seth team.

Jake suckered Quil into swapping. Leah refuses to be in Quil's brain more than absolutely necessary, so she made me trade, too, Embry explained with a resigned shrug of his spotted shoulders. Personally, I think she was just in the mood to torture Sam all night. Though the younger shifter had stationed himself rather far to the west, his voice and general demeanor of easygoing calm came in loud and clear.

What the hell is so important that mighty mini-alpha needed to swap? Paul challenged, his long legs taking him swiftly toward Aunt Lina's place. Oh, let me guess. The moody twerp is back to sniffing after the vamp tramp?

Got it in one, Quil chuckled.

(Paul worked fairly hard not to be distracted by the fact that the big freak had cornered and was blatantly harassing a squirrel. For no discernible reason aside from boredom. The idiot was going to end up getting bitten by yet another forest critter.)

Quit changing the subject! Jared interjected, his generally laidback attitude evaporating at even the hint of an insult to his precious Kim. Imprinting is not incestuous!

Uh, actually… said Quil, clearly enjoying his ability to throw fuel on the impending argument, Kim is like my… second cousin? Third cousin? She's related somehow on my mom's side, anyways.

There was a strange moment of mental silence before Jared's presence returned like a smoldering volcano. You, he growled, Are lying.

Does this mean I need to meet all the girls who are related to pack members if I want to find my imprint? Seth wondered, either nobly sacrificing himself to head off the dispute or just plain dopily stumbling into the middle of it. Paul has a cousin now, and Jake has two sisters, but I don't think anyone else has any female relatives, right? That's an awfully small dating pool. Oh, and one of Jake's sisters is married…

Ha. Maybe Auntie Lina is your imprint.

Quil's idiotic suggestion actually caused Seth to trip over his gangly, too-big paws in a moment of slack-jawed revulsion, which was quickly followed up with a probably unintentional rapid-fire montage of all the slutty and insane behavior he'd personally observed from the (he reluctantly admitted) attractive brunette. He concluded his mental flailing with an almost incoherent Meanttodothat and OhnooffensePaul.

Rolling his sharp canine eyes as he reached the last of the short miles of his journey, Paul countered, Don't worry about it, kid. I wouldn't inflict her on anyone. Soon as word gets around that she's knocked up, I expect at least a dozen guys are gonna outright skip town.

Stereo chuckles flowed into his mind, Jared's a bit nasty since the overly sensitive idiot was still pissed about an issue that basically boiled down to Paul's shoddy vocabulary skills. Did a word actually exist to describe the high probability of spirit warriors' falling instantly and obsessively in love with their non-blood-related brothers' female relatives?

Packcestuous, Quil sniggered.

Moron, Jared huffed. And because he was set on continuing his sulky little bitch-fit, he added, Fifty bucks say Paul's creepy-eyes cousin isn't an imprint.

Don't call her that! Paul snarled in response. Only I can call her that! And you're on!

Seth's buoyant demeanor noticeably brightened along their mental link as the hyper wolf chirped, Can I try first? She's really pretty, and I don't think her eyes are creepy at all!

OooOooOoo, Quil contributed, finally releasing the poor terrified squirrel, Baby Sethie wants to snag himself an older woman, ey?

Laughing softly, Embry quipped, I don't think you're in a position to comment about the age of anyone else's imprint. The taunt was good-natured, tinged slightly by the spotted wolf's skepticism that Ari was an imprint… and also willingness to see if and grudging hope that she was his.

Paul definitely preferred him or Seth over Jacob; even aside from the annoyance of ending up with mini-alpha as an in-law, he didn't want his baby cousin anywhere near the absurd Jake–Swan–Leech love triangle.

So true… Quil remarked with a resigned huff. Presumably in answer to both previous comments.

Of course, that was about the moment when Paul came close enough to Aunt Lina's little cabin to realize that only one person remained inside it and that said person definitely sounded like Aunt Lina herself and not the woman's daughter. I told her to stay, the wolf complained, easily picking up Ari's trail on the road heading to town. He estimated that she'd left almost immediately after he did, roughly an hour before.

Is this her? Seth wondered, nudging his own vantage into the connection. Patrolling on the forested cliffs overlooking the beach maybe a mile from town, he could clearly make out a petite figure strolling away from the main cluster of buildings and heading toward the white-capped water. Seth was downwind and had easily matched the girl's unique orange-blossoms-and-fresh-snow scent (currently contaminated very faintly with vamp stink from handling the tainted clothing) to Paul's memory.

Yep, Paul sighed. Hell, did she walk the whole way? I didn't even have a chance to warn her to stay out of the woods!

The five wolves shivered collectively at the thought of what could've befallen the diminutive teen; imprint or not, family or not, she was an innocent human, a member of their tribe. She was theirs to protect.

Eventually, impatiently, Seth drawled, Sooo… can I meet her? Even if she's not my imprint, I'll show her around and make sure she gets home. Promise!

With a weary sigh and the knowledge that his day off was officially no more, Paul agreed, Go for it, runt. I'll fill in.

Like a toddler who'd been snorting Pixy Stix, Seth ran as far as he could before exiting the mental chat room and presumably dashing toward Ari.

Paul wished him luck.

(No, seriously. Anyone was better than Jacob.)

xxXxx

"-Seth Clearwater… And you're Ariel, right? Paul's cousin?"

Stone-faced, Ari arched a thin brow and regarded the stranger before her with naked suspicion to match his naked chest. "Yes…" she drawled, reluctantly meeting Seth's cheerful brown eyes. "Well, news certainly does travel fast. Aren't I special?"

He held her gaze for a long moment, his expression oddly scrunched and focused and quite… eager… which then crumbled into an inexplicable crestfallen pout for a barely discernible second before snapping back to sociable, perky happiness. "Well, I'm sorta friends with Paul," Seth explained, like he hadn't just cycled through a totally bizarre series of mood swings. "And we work together, so I've got the inside scoop. I didn't think I'd see you around so soon though. Exploring?"

Ari cautiously admitted, "Something like that." Because I had to do the opposite of what my macho-man cousin ordered and also escape the histrionic sob-fest of my unwed pregnant mother, who I hate with the fire of a thousand suns, isn't an answer one gives to a person one has just met.

Of course, Seth took the fact that he'd gotten any response at all as an invitation to launch into an energetic sermon about the virtues and highlights of La Push, all the while gleefully volunteering himself as a tour guide. The kid seemed to lack the need to breathe, gesticulating excitedly as he spoke and apparently oblivious to the fact that his audience couldn't care less.

Actually, Ariel's attention had split between speculating how long her politeness to Paul's behemoth friend would last (probably the length of time it took the girl to figure out a diplomatic way to tell him to fuck off) and glancing up and down the rocky shore adjacent to what she'd discovered was a small but bustling marina. It was because of her wandering concentration that the girl immediately noticed when a shiny black sedan pulled up and a slightly paunchy middle-age White man climbed out with a knotted burlap sack in hand. The man—immediately dubbed Sackman—walked swiftly toward the water's edge.

And, really, there wasn't anything interesting or unusual about that… except for the fact that Ariel noticed that the sack was moving. Moving as though it contained a living creature… No, that's… He wouldn't… He can't be… Fucker!

Seething but outwardly calm, Ariel looked around for witnesses and, upon finding none other than the babbling giant, bent down and picked up a decently sized rock. She weighed it in her palm for a moment, ignoring Seth's confusion, before winding back and hurling the projectile as hard as she could directly at Sackman's temple.

The rock connected with a solid crack, and Sackman collapsed to the ground like a marionette with severed strings.

Ari paid no mind to Seth's aspect of dumbfounded horror as he figured out what she'd done; she breezed right past him and up to her quarry, recovering the squirming sack and deftly undoing the tight knot that had kept it closed.

Out popped the most adorable puppy she'd seen in her entire life: he was fluffy and fuzzy and so small, sooty charcoal gray all over except for a wispy black tuft defying gravity between his huge floppy ears and a splotchy black marking around his earnest sky-blue eyes. Ariel guessed he was a Newfoundland mix, likely the runt of his litter (although his comically oversized paws hinted at impressive stature to come); he had to be less than six weeks old.

It was love at first sight.

Which made the fact that some asshole had tried to drown him far worse.

"What are you doing?!" Seth shrieked, his voice cracking on a note usually only achievable by castrati as he watched Ari shred the burlap into long strips and tie them tightly around Sackman's wrists and ankles.

Once her prisoner was secure, she began rolling the limp body toward the waves. "Citizen's arrest," she explained. The man was heavy but moved easily, especially with Ari kicking him along while she cuddled her new puppy to her chest. "Also, instant karma."

Seth appeared to be caught between putting a stop to the assault and running away screaming. "But…" he stammered, expressive hands fluttering once more to emphasize his protests, "You… You can't…"

"Actually, I can," Ari replied, matter-of-fact. "I know I lack your level of buffness, but it's not that hard. The beach slopes downhill a bit, so, really, gravity does most of the work." She gave Sackman one last kick that sent him tumbling into the ocean, where he woke and spluttered and flailed and tried and failed to shriek for help around the briny liquid flooding his airways.

Only about thirty very satisfying seconds passed before Seth waded in and rescued the man, dragging him to safety by his bound ankles.

Damn. She suddenly knew how supervillains must feel when plucky boy heroes show up to do-good all over their nefarious schemes.

Ariel gave a drawn-out sigh, which caused the puppy to squirm in her arms and lick her chin consolingly. Mood brightened by the show of affection, she murmured, "Alright, fine." She fished out her phone and one-handedly began searching for a non-emergency law enforcement number.

xxxxxxxxxx

Fluffy bestie acquired. Also, PSA: don't throw rocks at or attempt to drown strangers, even if you suspect they might be planning to do something horrible to a puppy. Unfortunately, I don't think that's a valid legal defense, though it should be. If I remember correctly, at the time I wrote this, I had just watched an episode of Bondi Vet in which some utter psycho tried to murder a cat in the ocean—as in locked him in a crate and threw him into the water. I've heard similar stories of animal cruelty throughout the years, but that's one I know for sure happened (you can search "Bondi Vet George the cat" for news articles on the incident and the actual episode). So, yeah, don't try to convince me that the situation is unrealistic. People truly can be that evil and rarely get punished as they deserve. So, I guess Ari was just my way of achieving some vicarious justice.

I meant to post this last night, but the site wouldn't upload the file (just this one, others that I tested were fine). No idea why, but it's miraculously fixed this morning. If anyone has any theories that might save me from such frustration in the future, I'm all ears. Oh, and for reviews, too :)