The Shade - The Opening

Back a few months ago I submitted several pieces to The Babies at the Border, one was the completed Future-Takes for The Emotional Roller Coaster of Life (these are now posted on FFN, Stars, and Ao3). The second was the first chapter of A Different Kind of Tomato which I'm still determining how the entire story will play out (I posted the first chapter a few minutes ago on here). And the third is the opening scene of an original fiction I'm working on called The Shade. 

 My intention is to complete The Shade before I start posting it regularly wherever I end up deciding to post it. I have about four chapters wrote at the moment, and it's my assumption that it'll be about thirty or so chapters in all. Once I'm ready to post the completed story, I'm not, as of yet, sure where I'll post it. For now, here's the opening.

Summary:
Three hundred years after the end of World War III and the remnants of humanity are run by The Shade, except for a select few who fight against such oppression. But when the rebellion is captured, is all lost? Or will there still be hope? Is there a chance at love in the midst of such darkness? Or just blind hatred and rage?

Beta'd by monica03

The Shade

Opening

It's been three hundred years since World War III. The remnants of that humanity; of vehicles, electricity, computers, and so much more can be found all around, but the world I know doesn't actually have use of any of that technology.

Three hundred years ago, when World War III ended; after the atomic bombs, mustard gas, and weaponized diseases, there was a matter of a few thousand people left alive.

Over the course of the last three hundred years, the numbers have slowly raised into the hundreds of thousands, mostly thanks to The Shade.

As a child, I grew up in fear of The Shade, the ruling faction that controls not only the government, but the military, education, and even religion. They are what allows the civilized world to exist in peace.

I grew up outside of the civilized world though, and I'm not the only one. My family is a part of a faction of people that don't believe in The Shade's rule. We're the rebellion.

Or at least we were.

I close my eyes and clench my hands into fists – so tight that I'm sure I'll draw blood – as the rough sponge rubs over my skin. It feels almost like small shards of steel against my flesh, though I know it isn't. It's all in my head.

“A lady doesn't clench her fists.”

Then again, the man washing my naked body might be part of why it feels like it's rough steel against my skin. Aside from my father, who'd brought me into this world – and by that I mean he pulled me from my mom's womb after she'd been slain by The Shade – this man is the first person to ever see me disrobed.

Aluxif.

Actually, his full name is Aluxif St. Claude Jon Bonaparte de Nevogne the Seventh of The Fifth Order.

Far too much of a mouthful. If anyone asks, I'll claim I can't remember it all, though that's a lie. It's impossible for me to forget the name of the man that grooms for a role that I do not want.

I release my breath as I allow my hands to go slack.

I wish I could go back in time. Just six months. Then I'd be able to warn my family, my friends, and everyone I've ever loved... I'd be able to prevent it from happening.

But there's no going back.

He runs the sponge down my back, and I force myself to repress a shudder. The warm blueish-white liquid is supposed to feel good, at least according to Aluxif, but it doesn't. The creamy substance feels unnatural and cold – even though the temperature is actually quite warm.

When I was a child, I remember my dad reading a story to me about some epic fantasy where the woman bathed in buttermilk. At the time I hadn't known what buttermilk was so I'd asked him, and he explained it was the leftover liquid when someone churned butter.

I still don't understand why anyone would bathe in it.

I also can't help but wonder if this is what I'm in now.

If it is, I certainly don't understand the appeal. Of course, I may like it more if I'd been allowed to bathe by myself.

I'm not.

In fact, I'm not even allowed to pick up the utensils to eat.

Aluxif prevents me from having any chance of any form of escape.

I suppose I can't honestly blame him. Though if he truly understood why I was here, what I'd been threatened with, he'd know I'd never take the risk.

Of course, I know if my father knew what I've agreed to, he would disagree with my decision. But my father is dead.

Besides, if by offering up all that I am, I can save my people – imprisoned though they may be – then it is worth it. They'll escape with enough time, I'm sure of it.

His hand reaches around the front of me with the sponge and brushes over the top of my breasts. The steel shards of the sponge run smoothly over my skin, not pressing as hard as he'd been on my back.

My body reacts, nipples pebbling slightly, but I shudder in disgust – though I'm not sure if it's because of him touching me there or if it has more to do with my hatred of my own reaction.

“You must be clean for tonight,” Aluxif says, his voice gentle.

“I can wash myself!” I snap, though, in truth, I'm not as sure of that as I'd like to admit – taking baths wasn't a high priority in the rebellion, not in comparison to fighting for our rights to live and be free.

“And risk you drowning yourself? No. You can have me bathe you, or The Sisters of Aura. It's up to you.”

I shudder in genuine horror. I don't like Aluxif as he makes me uncomfortable, but at least he seems human. The Sisters of Aura, on the other hand, are freaky. They all dress in solid black, are extremely pale, and seem almost inhuman. I'd been forced to learn all of their names, and they are; Maya, Mya, Miya, Meya, Mayah, Myah, Maiya, Miah, Mia, Maia, Mija, and Maeja. The fact that they all have the same name only makes them all the more disturbing – okay, so they don't really have the same name, it just all sounds the same.

“No, I'd rather it be you than any of them.”

“Which is why I'm here. It isn't typically a role of a member of The Fifth Order to take care of women.”

“I know,” I mutter, feeling a strong desire to sink beneath the surface of the bluish-white liquid.

“None of that. A lady must not talk back, and must speak clearly when spoken to.”

I sigh but don't say anything else.

The sponge rubs along the undersides of my breasts before running the sponge lower, using firmer pressure once again.

“And what is it that I normally do?” he asks as he moves slightly on his knees so that he's beside me instead of behind me.

“The Fifth Order is tasked with schooling kids, specifically young girls, in the way of The Shade, so they know their proper place,” I say the explanation from memory. It was something I'd learned even before my people were captured – my father had made sure we all knew the obscenities we were fighting against.

“And why are we allowed such a precious task?”

“Because all of you in The Fifth Order are castrated.” Unlike the rest, I'd only learned that tidbit after coming here.

He continues to scrub me clean, going further down my body. I force my legs tighter together. I'm not about to let him touch me down there, even if it is with a sponge.

“Just because you can't get someone pregnant doesn't mean you don't still get off on certain things.” I regret the words almost as soon as I say them, but there's only so much degradation I can take before I start to lose it.

The resounding smack of flesh hitting flesh reaches my ears before I feel the burning pain on my cheek. It isn't the first time he's smacked me, but I'm still surprised – because tonight I'm supposed to swear my allegiance to The Shade.

“Impertinence does not become a lady.” His voice is cold. “And I do not like what you are implying. Teaching children is an honor and a sacred duty, none of us in our order would take advantage of that honor.”

The sponge rubs over the top of my legs, trying to access the crevice between my legs, but I keep my legs tightly pressed together.

“You will either spread your legs of your own accord, so I can wash that part of you or I will be forced to call The Sisters of Aura. You will not like it if they hold your legs apart and forcefully wash you. I am being gentle as I understand that you are not used to our ways. They simply won't care.”

I swallow, the taste of vomit in the back of my throat at the visual his words force upon me but proceed to open my legs for him. It's not the idea of them being rough that scares me, as illicit touch is illicit touch, no matter who it's by, but the idea of them touching me, period, terrifies me.

He runs the sponge over the lines of my womanhood, and the feeling of the stiff sponge is both painful and pleasant at the same time. I spasm slightly.

“Be calm, you are not –”

I break the cardinal rule by speaking over him, “I know, it's not my place to take pleasure from a man's touch.”

His eyes narrow. “How do you know that rule? I have not taught you that. It will be your master's job to teach you some such things.”

“Do you honestly think the rebellion doesn't know why we fight?” I look him in the eyes, refusing to be servile the way I'm supposed to be. “We wish for freedom from The Shade's egregious laws. We want the right to choose our own paths. I am not a cow. I deserve better than to be nothing more than some breeder of cattle.” I spit the last word.

“If everyone believed as your rebellion does, then we would have died out almost three hundred years ago. The Shade protects our future. Surely you must understand that.”

“We are not only four thousand, anymore.” I half expect him to smack me again, but he doesn't.

“And the only reason we aren't is because all of them understand their place. If there was another war like the one that decimated humanity in the first place, then there won't be a second chance.”

“Your assumption is that a life of slavery is better than death. I disagree.”

“And yet you asked to join The Shade when your death was about to occur. I think you protest too much.”

“I didn't agree to be part of The Shade because I was afraid to die. I did it to protect my people. If they had seen me executed, they would have fought and died. The little prison my people have been forced into is not large enough, or open enough, for any of mine to have escaped at that time. My sacrifice of joining The Shade allows them to live to fight another day.”

“And how do you know we didn't destroy your people the instant we took you from that prison?” He moves on to washing my legs.

“Because if that had been done, The Sisters of Aura and you wouldn't be so careful with me. It wouldn't truly matter if I managed to kill myself. You need me.”

“What if I told you that you simply were a trophy and that's the only reason we've been ordered to keep you alive.”

“I'd call you a liar. If there is one thing that The First Order is good for, it is for their ruthless practicality. If only you were watching me, I might believe it, but The Sisters of Aura wouldn't be wasted here.”

“You are correct.” He stands up after finishing my feet and offers his hand. “Come on. We must finish getting you ready for Typhor.”

I take his hand, as I know it's expected of me, and proceed to stand with his help.

As soon as I'm out of the tub of liquid, he dries me off with a towel before wrapping it around me, then proceeds to brush my hair out into a smooth luster.

Once he's done, he leads me back to my bedroom... bedroom, in this case, being a polite word for prison, as the only thing in the room is a bed that is attached to a frame, which is permanently affixed to the floor. There is no pillow, no sheets, no window, and the only door into the room locks from the outside.

Today, my bedroom has a couple of new items; a dress is laid out on my bed, and a pair of lace-up sandals are on the floor – I think they were once called gladiator sandals.

“It goes against everything I should do, but as long as you don't try anything, I will allow you to dress yourself. You may as well enjoy this last bit of freedom.” His words are strangely dispassionate, but when I glance at his face, the same can't be said of his eyes.

I quickly take advantage of his offer, stepping over to the bed and pulling the towel off. Part of me wishes he would at least turn his back, but I know he won't.

It takes me a second, as I look at the dress, to figure out how it is worn, before opening it up as I pull it from the bed. I put it on in the same way my father used to put on shirts that tied shut; slipping my right arm through one strap, pulling the material around my back, and placing my left arm through the other strap. Finally, I pull the dress together, the wrap – I remember reading stories featuring dresses called that, but it's my first time ever seeing one – and tying it shut around the waist with the ribbon provided. I use the single pull through loop at the top to secure that area, so it doesn't fall open.

The material only just closes around my body with the smallest amount of overlay, and I know, when I walk it's going to expose far more of me than I've ever allowed to have exposed... I know it's been done this way on purpose.

It's a reminder of what I am.

Nothing more than a human broodmare.

The dress is also low enough cut that the tops of my breasts are exposed.

My tongue wets my lips before I move forward and sit on the bed, pulling over the sandals so I can put them on and lace them up – the leather binding going up to just below my knees.

Once I'm done, I look up at Aluxif.

Even though I despise him, despise everything he's a part of and stands for, I've come to rely on him in these last weeks. He is not... cruel. And I know he could be.

It's not the first time I've worried about who I'm going to be traded to.

But now, more than ever, that worry is present at the forefront of my mind.

“Do you know who I'm going to be given to, Aluxif? Who I'm the prize for?”

“It would spoil the surprise if I was to tell you that. Come along now, it's time to take you to meet Typhor.”

I swallow thickly but proceed to stand up, walking over to him and taking his hand.

The walk from my bedroom through the halls of the alcazar and out to the streets of The Shade's stronghold – the city of Lanassence – amps up my anxiety with every step.

I don't want to do this.

I can't do this.

I was raised with too much pride to be reduced to nothing more than some shadewhore.

I yank, trying to pull my hand from Aluxif's grip as soon as we're on the streets. If I can make a run for it, then maybe, just maybe, I can escape.

But his grip is too tight.

“Don't.” He turns his head just enough to look at me. “You must go through with this. If you successfully get away from me, you will be captured. I assure you, the guards of this city will take you alive. And you will not like what happens if that happens. Not even counting what will happen to your people – they have only been allowed to live based on your willingness to join us – you will be killed, but not before you are raped, tortured, mentally assaulted, and more. You will beg for death months before it will be allowed.”

With the reminder of why I agreed to this originally, my shoulders slump slightly. “Okay.”

The rest of the walk through the city is quiet, at least for Aluxif and me, though I can feel eyes on me.

However, my glances around find no one.

When we reach the plateau beneath the citadel, I swallow. The stage on the plateau is already set up with an altar. Hundreds, if not thousands, of people – mostly men, though there are some women – stand around the stage, all of their eyes are on the man on stage.

I've never seen him before, this man with smoky gray eyes, firm body, black hair, and a sculpted face. I don't need the laurel crown upon his head to tell me he is Typhor, ruler of The Shade.

No, it's the fact that all of the crowd is giving him their riveted and sole attention.

And if it weren't for the fact that I hate him instantly, I might actually think him to be handsome.

Aluxif lets go of my hand. “You must go up there of your own accord, I cannot take you farther.”

I can't help but wonder if he means it literally. There were myths of sorcery that trickled even down to the members of the rebellion, but I've never believed in such travesties.

It wasn't magic that destroyed the world. It was war. Brought on by greed, by hatred, by fear. And though, in our modern times, things like hydrogen and atomic bombs may seem magical, they really aren't.

Realizing I'm stalling by letting my mind wander, I climb the steps.

The instant I step onto the stage, the man, Typhor, looks toward me briefly before glancing back towards his captive audience.

“And here is the princess of the insurgents now. Ready to bow her head and willingly serve the greater good, advocating for peace.”

I can feel the eyes as the audience looks my way. Their looks all feel like little pinpricks on my skins, but especially the completely inappropriate looks which trace the line of skin – leg and crotch – that flashes as I walk.

I walk over to the altar, realizing only as I close on it that it is a permanent part of the stage, literally carved from the same piece of stone. The altar has a large bowl made of a shiny silver metal and a knife that has a kris blade on it.

Looking briefly into the bowl, I see the stains of dried blood from people before me who have made this same oath, and I swallow convulsively before I drop to my knees the way I'm supposed to.

Typhor steps up to the other side of the altar. “Speak your oath to me, speak it clearly for the people below, as your word, your blood, and your name are your bindings to our law.”

The words have more weight than they should, and I wonder yet again if sorcery is real, then I mentally shake off the idea. It's just nerves.

“I, Nevoux Gentrix, daughter of Sederico Gentrix and Qayla Leveneau Moonsea of The Second Order –” there are gasps from some of the audience, only a few knew my mother wasn't just another member of the rebellion, but was actually a betrayer of The Shade. Not even many of my family and friends had known “– and former member of the rebellion, solemnly swear to join The Shade and uphold all its laws under the light of the holy trinity of Drekavac, Culsu, and Barbatos – the supreme beings. And under the rule of The First Order, the force of The Second Order, the faith of The Third Order, the tutelage of The Fifth Order and The Sixth Order, the trust of The Seventh Order, the wisdom of The Eighth Order, the will of The Sisters of Aura, and the philosophy of The Brothers of Dharma. And I swear to obey Typhor as ruler, as well as any man who is above me.” I bow my head as I finish, only just realizing the literal double entendre of the final statement that I've been practicing for weeks.

“Rise, Nevoux, and swear in blood, as you have in word.” Typhor's words demand obedience as I stand up.

I pick up the knife and hold the blade over my forearm briefly as I stare into Typhor's eyes before cutting cleanly into the skin, and allowing the blood to flow into the bowl.

I know the final part of the ritual is to strip me of my own self-worth, to take the name of whoever my master will be, but I still haven't been told who it is.

“Who am I being given to?” I practically whisper the words as I don't want them to carry to the crowd. My pride has been run through enough of the mud without admitting ignorance to the obvious.

“Come again?” Typhor asks, somewhat startled, but his voice is soft too.

I look down mumbling, “You know, who is going to be my master?”

I glance up in time to see his eyes flicker to the side of the stage. Somehow I know, I just know, that he's looking at Aluxif. After a moment, he quietly replies, “There really aren't many who have the capability to handle someone as untrained and untouched as you. So I've decided to keep you close. Which is to say, you will be mine.”

My eyes widen briefly before I look down, finishing my oath, “I am Nevoux, slave of Typhor of The First Order, ruler of The Shade.”

To me, it's like a weight is pressing on my shoulders, and I know now – know for sure – my life is over.

There will be no chance of escape for me.

A Different Kind of Tomato - Part 1 - Chapter 1

Back a few months ago I submitted several pieces to The Babies at the Border, one was the completed Future-Takes for The Emotional Roller Coaster of Life (these are now posted on FFN, Stars, and Ao3). The second was an opening scene to an original fiction called The Shade which I'm slowly working on completing (I will post the opening scene on the blog next). And the third was the first chapter of A Different Kind of Tomato. 

A Different Kind of Tomato is an extended story that starts a decade before the events that were in the one-shot, Poe-Tay-Toe/Poe-Tah-Toe. I'm not very far in A Different Kind of Tomato, but at this point am thinking about keeping it as blog only fic once I've got enough written to feel comfortable posting it regularly. For now, I'm posting the first chapter here on my blog. Further chapters won't be posting in awhile. 

Summary:
For Bella, life was never easy, and moving to California to chase the dream proves no less difficult. Especially when she falls for, not one man, but two. People always claim love conquers all, but Bella isn't sure she believes it. An extension of Poe-Tay-Toe/Poe-Tah-Toe.

Beta'd by monica03

A Different Kind of Tomato

Part 1

Chapter I

The tearful goodbyes to my dad, Charlie, and my first serious boyfriend, Jacob, had made the first few hours of driving almost impossible. But I was done crying a long time before I made it to Los Angeles.

It wasn't my first time in California, I'd lived there for about six months when I'd been a little over two with my mom, Renee, and my grandma, Marie. But when mom had my baby sis, Alice, we'd moved on. I honestly couldn't remember anything about that time, though I had a vague memory of a heavy wood table. Whether that had been at my grandma's house, or somewhere else, I wasn't certain.

I was chasing the typical American dream – the one that hundreds, if not thousands, of women and men went to L.A. every year to chase... chasing the dream of becoming an actor.

I was lucky, in one sense at least, because my big bro had offered me a place to stay.

Though, the idea of moving in with someone who I hadn't seen since before I was two was more than a little daunting... Though, it was hardly the first time I'd done it – in fact, it had only been ten short months since I moved in with dad.

My dad had been more than a little disappointed when I'd declared that I was heading to California to try and get a career in acting.

But he didn't get it.

Mom, Alice, and I had lived the vast majority of my childhood by staying in cheap motels, crappy apartments, and more than one halfway house. The reality was that one of the only things I'd ever been able to latch onto was the TV – with all the different actors playing numerous roles.

I tried to follow the directions to the address my brother had given me but missed the correct turn on three different occasions. When I finally pulled up in the drive of his house – as he'd instructed me to do – I was pissed and ready to start a fight for no other reason than I could.

After getting out of my truck, I grabbed one of my bags from the bed and headed to the front door, ringing the doorbell.

It took almost a good minute for the door to open. The man standing on the other side of the door was tall enough that I had to tip my head up slightly to see his face. The face told me it was my big bro, but even though I'd seen dozens of pictures of him at my dad's house, it was the first time I'd ever seen him in person.

He was far more massive than I'd expected him to be.

And if it weren't for the curly brown hair and chocolate eyes, I'd totally wonder if my mom had been having an affair on the side. But the hair and eyes were all Charlie.

Still, I couldn't help but wonder exactly what recessive genes he'd gotten to give him his stature. He was at least six and a half feet tall, and my width could be fit between his shoulders two times over.

“Emmett?” I made his name a question.

We'd spoken over the phone enough that I wondered if he might recognize my voice, though I couldn't be certain that he would.

He reached out and hugged me suddenly, picking me up as he did so. “Hey, sis!”

It was like being constricted by a boa.

“Can't... Breathe.” I wheezed out.

He put me back on my feet before reaching back and scratching the back of his head. “Sorry about that, my girlfriend always reminds me that I don't know my own strength.”

“Girlfriend?”

“You'll meet her soon enough, she comes by at least a couple times a week... Claims I'd live on take-out and pizzas if she didn't cook for me from time to time. Her name's Heidi. Here, let me help get your bags.”

He and I managed to shuffle around each other as I entered the house with the bag I was carrying, and he went to my truck.

I didn't get very far though because the instant I walked through the foyer, down the hall, and into his living room, I stopped cold – my jaw dropping as I stared.

The sectional couch was made of a cream-colored leather that appeared to be butter soft – the type of leather that costs a fortune – the coffee table, end tables, bookshelves, and TV stand were all made of ebony, and there was a two-story wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling window... Not to mention the sixty-inch television. But none of that was what had me staring.

No, it was the nude still on one wall. I couldn't think of the actress's name, but I knew I recognized her. Albeit, I didn't think I'd ever seen that much of her.

Emmett came into the living room, carrying my remaining four bags. His eyes tracked to where I was staring. “Oh, I... uh... probably should have warned you about that.”

I turned enough to arch an eyebrow at him. “And your girlfriend knows about this?”

He blushed. “She's the one that gave it to me.”

I blinked.

…

He led me to the bedroom that he told me was mine for as long as I needed it, and I spent the next couple of hours organizing the stuff I brought with me.

I still wasn't a hundred percent certain what to make of my big brother. It was clear, on one level, anyway, that he wanted to be a part of my life. But Emmett was approximately six years older than me – old enough that he probably remembered me as a baby.

I knew he'd been in my life until mom had run off with me when I was two, but I couldn't remember it. If it hadn't been for the fact that I'd spent my senior year with my dad – having put my foot down with my mom the day I turned eighteen – I wouldn't have even known what my brother looked like or what his voice sounded like.

I'd managed to settle into a relatively comfortable relationship with my dad within days of moving in with him, but Charlie was like me. He was quiet, extremely self-controlled, and a workaholic.

And it was abundantly clear that Emmett had far more of Renee's attitude... yet, he was more stable than mom had ever been.

I finally finished putting my belongings away before sighing and going to the balustrade overlooking the living room, but he wasn't there.

I frowned slightly, heading down the stairs to see if I could figure out where he went.

There was a back hall which I followed, finding several closed doors – at least one I was sure was the kitchen. Part of me wanted to peak in each room, but the glass door at the end of the hall caught my eye before I started exploring.

When I reached the glass door, I realized it was a pool room.

I carefully opened the door and stepped inside just as Emmett surfaced.

My eyes widened momentarily before I spun to face the wall, my cheeks burning.

It wasn't my first time seeing a naked guy, not even close, but it was different seeing my brother – even if I didn't know him well yet – than seeing Jake or the gang. There were certain things I simply didn't want to see when it came to my brother.

“Why are you staring at the wall?”

I blushed even harder. “You're naked,” I mumbled.

“Am not.”

“I know a guy's ass when I see one.”

“So I'm wearing a thong, still not naked.”

Part of me was tempted to verify, but I still didn't turn around. “And I'm still not going to look.”

“Whatever.”

We were both silent for a minute before he finally said, “Hey, I found a job for you while you start trying to find a role as an actress. If you're interested, that is.”

“What kind of job?”

“The kind that will allow you to get some spending money. It probably won't equal out to much, but you'll need some money to buy in-season clothes and that kind of crap. It's pretty much a must-have for people who want to go into acting.”

“And how do you know that? You're not an aspiring actor.” It felt ridiculous to continue talking to the wall, but I refused to get another look at his derriere.

“No, I'm not. But I've met my share of aspiring actors since moving out here.”

“Okay, so what type of place is willing to hire me without even meeting me?”

“There's a little diner about two miles from here that needs a new waitress. The owner and I are friends. He said he'd give the job to you if you want it.”

I frowned slightly because I wasn't a hundred percent certain that I had the hand/feet coordination to succeed as a waitress, but finally nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

…

I'd been working at the diner for almost a week and had yet to meet Emmett's friend. I'd been hired on by the cook – a robust Irish woman who went by Siobhan, pronounced as it was spelled... at least according to her.

The owner, on the other hand, was strangely allusive. Siobhan assured me that he helped out regularly, oftentimes waiting, or cooking, or even cleaning, but I'd yet to see it.

Though, I supposed it was for the best as just the thought of meeting the boss-man made me feel like I was going to drop something.

In truth, waiting tables wasn't something I was all that good at, but I did need the money.

I stepped up to a family of four sitting in one of the booths.

“My name is Bella, and I'll be your waitress today. May I take your order?” I said cheerfully.

I started writing down their requests on the order pad when I happened to hear the door to the kitchen open. Instinct had me wanting to look and see who it was right away, but I forced myself to finish jotting down the rest of my order.

Once I was done, I turned, and my breath caught in my chest. A man I'd never seen before was at the cash register with an apron around his waist. He had spiky brown hair, a five o'clock shadow, gray-blue eyes, and a lean and tall body. He wasn't the most handsome man, at least not in the traditional sense, but he was still hot.

If I'd found him in a pool, mostly naked, I wouldn't have looked away. Part of me wanted to lick him like a lollipop.

I blushed and looked down, rushing over to give the order to the cook before spinning to hide in the bathroom while I calmed myself, but tripped and did a header right into the man in question, instead.

By the Law Teaser

This story is not going to be officially posted for awhile still, but the plot bunny has been plaguing me for long enough now that I decided to write the first scene out and share it.

Enjoy... or don't.

By the Law

Disclaimer: I am not Stephenie Meyer and sadly won't ever own the rights to the Twilight Saga. Unfortunately for me, my mind is like a sieve that enjoys ruining the characters from her saga's lives.

AN: There are a lot of Mafia Fics out there which romanticize the familial bonds that are part of that life without focusing on, or even point out the much darker nature of mafia life. If this is what you're looking for from me, then you are going to be sadly disappointed. This story will deal with Edward Antonio Cullaro, the son of the mafia boss, Carlisle Cullaro, who falls in loves with his personal bodyguard, Jasper Whitlock. Fair warning, there is no HEA in this story.

_____________________________

Prologue

“This is the man I was telling you about, son,” Carlisle said as they stepped into the warehouse on the dock.

“The fag who was cheating on his wife?” Edward asked, keeping his voice cold and collected.

“Yes.”

Edward looked down at the man large man with the broad should who was tied up on the floor in such a way that there was never going to be any escape. He vaguely recognized him, but he wasn't sure why, he knew he'd never actually seen the man.

“Who is he, again?”

“Emmett Swarno, your fiancee's brother.”

Old mafia just like his family then. The man never should have let himself get caught.

It was funny, proclivities such as the one Aro Volturino back in Italy had, with his preference for teenagers, was completely ignored. But being gay was a major no. It was why he was marrying Isabella. No one could ever know that his own desires ran in the same style as the man in front of him.

“Allow me.” Edward held his hand out to his father.

He noticed out of the corner of his eye as his old man smiled, placing the gun in his hand. Edward raised the gun as he walked a few steps closer to the man who was trying to shout from behind his gag. He pulled the trigger, feeling the blow-back of blood and brain matter as the man fell to his side, dead.

Blast from the Past: The Difference Ten Years Makes

Five Years Later was my first ever posted story. It was removed from FF.net and Stars (then TWCS, I'm pretty sure) in August of 2015. Eventually, after this story has a major overhaul, I do intend to repost it. But for now, this is a comparison of the prologue from when I first wrote this story ten years ago, to my current edited version.

Prologue - Ten Years Ago

… “Mouthwatering,” he repeated, inhaling deeply.

I tensed for the spring, my eyes squinting as I cringed away, and the sound of Edward’s furious roar echoed distantly in the back of my head. His name burst through all the walls I’d built to contain it. Edward, Edward, Edward. I was going to die. It shouldn’t matter if I thought of him now. Edward, I love you.

He was at my side in an instant. He grabbed my hair pulling my head to the side as he forced me to the ground. His teeth sunk into my neck, and the searing pain was instant. I suddenly heard a loud crash right next to my ear. I forced my eyes open and saw the wolves ripping at Laurent. The pain of the fire burning through me on the inside was making it impossible for me to understand what was happening in front of my eyes.

One of the wolves ran off. A few moments and Jacob came running into the clearing. I wanted to yell at him to run away. But I couldn’t it was taking all my energy to not start screaming in agony. Jacob ran straight over to me. He bent down next to my head and saw the wound.

He turned around and faced the wolves. “Now she’s changing, we shouldn’t have waited till he bit her.” He yelled at them.

The black wolf turned towards us and growled.

Suddenly Jacob took up a defensive position. “No, she won’t pay for your mistake Sam. I will not allow her to die just because you wouldn’t do what’s right and attack before that leech attacked.”

Then my vision blurred and I couldn’t hear there argument anymore. The only sensation I had was the pain of the fire burning through every ounce of my body.

____________________________________

Prologue - after revisions today

… “Mouthwatering,” he repeated, inhaling deeply.

I tensed for the spring, my eyes squinting as I cringed away, and the sound of Edward’s furious roar echoed distantly in the back of my head. His name burst through all the walls I’d built to contain it. Edward, Edward, Edward. I was going to die. It shouldn’t matter if I thought of him now. Edward, I love you.

Laurent was at my side in an instant, grabbing my hair and pulling my head to the side as he forced me to the ground. His teeth sunk into my neck and the searing pain of a fire I recognized all too well was instantaneous.

I suddenly heard a loud crash right next to my ear so I forced my eyes open, seeing through blurred eyes as a group of massive wolves ripped at Laurent. The pain of the fire burning through me was making it impossible for me to fully understand what exactly I was seeing – other than the fact that part of me knew it was completely impossible.

One of the wolves ran off and a few moments later Jacob came running into the clearing. I wanted – needed even – to yell at him to run away but I couldn’t as it was taking every ounce of my will to not start screaming in agony. Jacob ran straight over to me, bending down next to my head. I was pretty sure his hand briefly touched my neck but couldn't actually feel it.

He turned around in a move so fast that my pained focus was completely unable to catch, facing the wolves. “Now she’s changing, we shouldn’t have waited till he bit her,” he yelled at them in anger.

I was relatively certain if my face wasn't already contorted in pain than it would be contorting in confusion instead. How could he know?

The black wolf turned towards us and growled.

Suddenly, Jacob took up a defensive position. “No, she won’t pay for your mistake, Sam. I will not allow her to die just because you wouldn’t do what was right and attack before that leech bit her.”

Then my focus gave out and my vision completely blurred out as well as any other knowledge of the world around me. The only sensation I had was the pain of the fire burning through every inch of my body.

The Beast - Prologue

Prologue

He pulled himself to his full height. 

The shewolf should have known better than to run from him, it wasn't as if the little healer could possibly have outrun him - and especially not on a full moon. She was nothing more than some hundred generation bloodborn, weak and inconsequential. He was the second generation of their kind, more powerful and deadly than she'd ever dream of being. 

And the only reason he'd stooped to seeking her out was because of a prediction he'd made that she would provide a seer son. As the one true alpha, he had the gift himself, but it was a taxing ability he avoided using as much as possible. With another gifted as a seer, he could use them for the gift and no longer use his own. 

So he'd hunted her down, and when she'd shifted and fled, he'd chased. In all honesty, the thrill of the chase had only heightened the experience as he'd used his maw to hold her down to the ground by her throat and taken what was his by rights. 

He was sure humans would scream and beat their chests in disgust, claiming he'd raped her and so on, but they couldn't possibly understand the way of his world. And in his world, his word was law.

The fact that the child she would carry and give birth to would end in her own death wasn't even a minor upset to him.

He looked down at her form, still shivering on the ground, for a mere moment before he turned and walked way - once again on two feet. 

Shadowed Abyss, Chapter 1 - Pursuer, A Blast From The Past

So, it's been awhile since I've posted A Blast From The Past, but this is a flashback of one of my stories that I removed from FF, it was both my shortest full length story and my most read, Shadowed Abyss. For a summary of the story, you can check The Archives page of my blog.

Below, the first chapter, revamped to read smoother. Enjoy

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or the characters in it.

Ch 1 – Pursuer

Bella POV

I was somewhere in southern California, enjoying my hunt.

It had been twenty-some odd years since I was changed. I didn’t remember much of my human life. The only thing I remembered with clarity was the burning that had occurred during the transformation. I couldn’t remember what my parents looked like or what they’re names were. I couldn’t remember what most of my friends had been like, though I did remember one name, Jacob. I believed he was the one I had been closest to before I was changed.

The only thing I really could remember was the name of the hunter that changed me. It was a man named Laurent, and I had no idea why he hadn't killed me. I had just been left out in the forest, and after three days of an agonizing change I finally was able to move. I ran away from Forks, my only thought at the time was my need to protect the ones I loved.

At the time, I had cared. Now, I couldn’t care less.

I remembered one other thing from my human life, there had been – for a while – a group of vampires that lived in Forks. They were different than me though, they hunted animals and not humans. I remembered I had once wanted to be one. I now couldn’t even imagine it with the hunt thick in my mind. Animals smelled bland and, frankly, I’d never hunt one.

I preferred the luscious smell and flavor of the humans. I was a savage and I hunted as I pleased. I didn’t remember their names, or why I had ever wanted to be like them. My subconscious very much blocked me from those memories – as if they were too painful to remember. I was hardly able to recollect my own name now, it was Bella, but I didn’t care. I called myself something else, I called myself The Pursuer. It was my name now, not some feminine frilly ladies name that I couldn’t begin to fathom why I had ever been given it.

I was thirsty and searching for someone to drink.

Alice POV

It had been twenty-six years since we had left Bella. After the first five years – which somehow Edward had managed not to return to her in – Esme had convinced Edward to return to us. He almost always stayed in his room and sulked.

Unfortunately, even if we did return now, she most certainly had either moved on or died. I had followed Edward’s wishes and had not watched over her future; whenever there had been a vision of her I had stopped it in my tracks. I from time-to-time wondered how she was but I resisted the urge to see how she was.

Us leaving Bella had had disastrous effects. Emmett never joked, Rosalie never worked on cars, Carlisle never read books, Esme never designed houses, Edward never talked, Jasper was always depressed, and I had withdrawn from everyone – even Jasper.

I felt Jasper come into our bedroom then, and I couldn’t remember the last time we had made love, though I knew it had been years. Jasper sat down on the bed.

“Come here Alice,” Jasper said.

I moved over to the bed and sat down but didn’t speak.

Jasper spoke again. “Alice, we need to stop this madness. I don’t care what Edward says, I want you to look into Bella’s future. This has to end, I can’t take it anymore.”

I looked at him with sad eyes. “It won’t help Jazz, It’s too late. Twenty years ago maybe we could have done something but too much time has elapsed.”

“I don’t care, Alice. Look anyways,” he said.

I shut my eyes and put my fingers against my temples. I looked to Forks and ended up in the cemetery.

There was an older male of about sixty kneeling over a gravestone. I vaguely recognized him as Charlie. In front of him the stone said:

Isabella Marie Swan

September 13th, 1987 – March 11th, 2006

To a beloved

friend, and daughter.

Charlie was hunched over crying with a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

I pulled myself out of the vision and began to shake. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. Bella couldn’t have died. I tried again and this time I was pulled into another vision.

A female with long brown hair and bright red eyes was stocking a human. She moved toward the human with speed and aggressiveness. The human who was a young girl of probably fourteen spun around, “Who are you?” the girl stammered.

The woman hissed, “The Pursuer.” Then she lunged and shoved the girl to the ground at which point she tore open the neck and began drinking.

I once again forced myself out of a vision. I was shaking uncontrollably and realized I was dry sobbing. All my family – even Edward – was in the room. I could tell from his face that he hadn’t been listening into my vision though.

I couldn’t get a hold of my shaking. Jasper pulled me tight. “What did you see?” he asked.

“Bella,” I choked out.

Edward growled. “What about Bella? You weren't supposed to look into her future.”

Jasper growled back. “I asked her to. I couldn’t take it any more – this depression is driving me wild.” Jasper looked back at me. “What about her?”

“I looked into Forks’ future. I ended up at the cemetery where I read Bella’s gravestone.” I shook my head as everyone gasped. “I couldn’t believe what I saw, so I tried again this time looking for Bella directly.” I let out another sob and started shaking even harder. “I found her or what’s left of her anyways.”

“What does that even mean?” Edward asked.

“Look for yourself,” I said and I let the vision I just had run through my mind again.

“It can’t be,” Edward exclaimed. “Even if she was… She would never… I mean she wouldn’t… That can’t be right…” He continued only halfway coherent.

“What exactly did you see, Alice?” Carlisle asked.

“Bella, she’s a vampire.” I took in a deep breath. “But not like us, she’s a monster.”

The Emotional Roller Coaster of Life - The Cut-takes

The Emotional Roller Coaster of Life - The Cut-takes

The Cut-takes will feature scenes from people who aren't main characters, scenes too short to make official chapters, scenes that occurred prior to the start of the story, and the scenes that occurred between the prologue and chapter one. 

The first scene in The Cut-takes will be Edward's dream which I posted earlier on my blog. The second scene is below. Both with be posted on FF soon. 

The Emily Scene

July 29th, 2011 

She had been married to Sam since she was eighteen and it was hard to believe that in another eight months it would be twenty years that they'd been together – not that they hadn't had their share of cliffs and crags.

After ten years of being married, the cuffs that bound them together had begun to chafe and her husband ended up having a relationship with a young woman. Emily had never found out who it was that he'd spent a summer running around with. At the time it had happened she hadn't known about it all, actually. In fact, she hadn't found out until more than four and a half years after he'd broken it off.

When she'd discovered his infidelity, she'd walked and returned to her parents home on the Makah reservation. She'd never been able to determine if father spirit had a hand in it or if it was just pure kismet, but the discovery of her being pregnant had been the only thing that had prevented her from filing a divorce.

Almost the entirety of the next year – and most of the year after that – she'd spent living with her parents. It was only after her husband had gotten down on his knees and begged for forgiveness that she'd gone back to him.

The twins, Alec and Jane, were a handful. At four years old now they got into everything, from matches to water hoses. So far they'd had two house fires, a house flood, a torn up couch, and four prank calls to 911 in the last six months alone which had all been caused by the twins. Their ability to get into trouble left both Emily and Sam exhausted daily.

She woke up at five in the morning to find the twins already watching cartoons on the television.

She shook her head. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Marmelly cereal!" Jane shouted.

Alec suddenly looked at her. "Mom, doesn't rocky road has marsamello?"

"Yes, and nuts. And no you can't have that for breakfast, Alec."

"That wasn't why I wa askin. I saw a dawing of a man at Lee-La's house and she say it was drawn by Seth. She call the picture rocky road. Why would a dawing be a rocky road?"

Emily's brow furrowed as she contemplated the meaning behind a comment like that and didn't respond to her young son.

The Hunter Opening - Returning to Fanfiction Soon.

The Hunter

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight as I am not Stephenie Meyer. Since I am not her, I make no money from any fanfictions I post. I also don't own the Evernight Series by Claudia Gray which is part of the inspiration behind this story.

AN: I originally started writing this story in 2010 but removed it in 2015, it was only about a third of the way done. This was always a story that I wanted to finish but after awhile I wasn't a hundred percent happy with the direction I was taking it. So while this is a re-post... it's also going to be a rewrite.

Chapter 1 – The Return

It had been four years since my last visit. This wasn’t a visit though, this was business.

Nineteen years ago my mother had enrolled in Forks high, because she had been on a mission. A vampire had been stocking Port Angeles, and it was my mother’s first personal mission. She had been seventeen when she had enrolled as a senior, but had gotten in over her head, and not with the vampire. We could fight vampires; that was easy, once you learned how. She couldn’t, however, combat young love. She had prematurely gotten married, ended up pregnant, and I had been the product.

I, Bella Swan, had been a mistake, an accident. I had had it drilled into me a thousand times; I never should have been born, at least not then. My mother had always planned that she would eventually have a child, but she had always believed it would be the product between another hunter, never this. I was never meant to exist. Not that it mattered, I did, end of story.

My mother, Renee, was one of the strongest hunters in our group, and her husband, Phil, was the leader. I was on my first private mission, back in Forks. My father himself had called and told us of the vampires in Forks. It had been Phil, who had decided to send me here, and I had to admit that I was excited; my first true vampire hunt.

My father, Charlie, the chief of police, didn’t know that I was being sent out, he wouldn’t know until I knocked on the door. I knew he would freak when he realized that I was the hunter of choice.

I was driving my black Pontiac Solstice, which had been a birthday gift to me on my sixteenth birthday from my mom, to Forks. It was probably going to be the sweetest vehicle that the town of Forks had ever seen.

I only had three bags and my purse with me. My purse consisted of my wallet with all three of my fake IDs, my papers for school enrollment, my cash, my credit card, my cell phone, my IPOD, some basic makeup, a small vial of Calts Oil, and one tampon. In my first bag I had all the clothes and toiletry items that I needed. In my second bag were my laptop, and all the personal items that I took wherever I went. And in the last bag was my hunting gear.

Now vampires weren’t like the old myths tell you. Vampires wouldn’t burn in the sun, instead they sparkled. Holy water wouldn’t work, crosses wouldn’t work, stakes only work to kindle a fire, and forget everything else that you have ever heard. A vampire was like rock, so a bullet would do no good. They didn’t shy away from onions and garlic, and their eyes could be black, red, pink, or gold.

There was only one way to kill a vampire, burn it to ash, and spread the ashes. The only good vampire was a dead vampire. So no matter how handsome or sexy a vampire looked it was deadly.

Vampires didn’t have heartbeats; they didn’t have blood running through their system, and technically they didn’t need blood to survive.

Vampires were its, there were no he’s or she’s. No matter what sex they had when they were human, they were no longer human, and therefore no longer had a sex to mention.

A vampire didn’t have a conscience or morals, it wasn’t possible. Vampires could be convincing that they had emotions, but they didn't have those either.

Our hunting group specialized in vampires, but we knew of the other creatures out there, and we never lost sight of that. Our group was called Rose based off of Phil’s great great grandmother back when she had started our group.

I knew my father wasn’t going to like the fact that they had sent me, but we were currently short on numbers, and fifteen year olds were going out on hunts by themselves currently. We had been seriously depleted of manpower when one of our hideouts had been burnt to the ground with six men, seven women, and twelve children burned alive. The police said it was an accident but we all knew the truth – the soulless bastards burned one of our safe havens to the ground, and it only renewed my faith that we were doing the right thing.

On my left ring finger was a small diamond ring that I would remove before I started going to school. My fiancé, Jeod, was currently in Oregon on his own assignment. I loved him, but it wasn’t in the way that people should get married for. He was only two years older than me and we grew up together, we had known each other our whole lives, but we were like brother and sister. Our marriage was more of a way to take one for the team, as less and less of the females chose to get pregnant. It took too much time away from our work to be pregnant for nine months and then raise a child for the next few years. Our group was slowly dying out though, so Jeod and I decided to marry and have a child. It was a mutual decision, and at least we loved each other in some way.

I pulled to a stop in front of my father’s house. It was the same paint job that it had had the last time I was here and I was shocked to feel a sense of relief. I hadn’t been in a place that I could even begin to consider as a home in almost a year, and though this wasn’t really a home either, it was the closest thing I had.

I got out and grabbed my bags before walking to the door and ringing the doorbell.

A moment later Charlie opened the door, his eyes widened. “Bella, what are you doing here?”

“You’re the one that needed a hunter, well here I am,” I said acerbically.

The Emotional Roller Coaster Of Life - The "Real" Chapter 26

Officially, this chapter was removed from The Emotional Roller Coaster Of Life because it A) doesn't add much to the story unless you're a psyche major or otherwise like to over analyze stuff, B) is only about a hundred and fifty words (so shorter than my minimum in my drabbles), and C) it's a dream so it doesn't exactly fit with the rest of the story.

But for anyone who wants to read it, here it is:

Chapter 26 - Dream (Edward)

August 1st, 2011

He was running on a giant hamster wheel and going nowhere. The hamster wheel was made of a kaleidoscope of colors with giant twizzler flavored bars. It felt like he'd been running on this same wheel for years.

He could feel the beady eyes of the giant ferret staring at him and he wanted to curl in on himself and hide, but he couldn't stop running. He didn't dare stop.

If he stopped then the white rabbit or black hawk would get him for sure. He just knew it. They were always trying to grab him and take him away from his wheel, but his wheel was his safety and he needed it. It protected him from the giant dark brown ferret that was always looking for another way to hurt him. 

So he didn't dare leave his wheel. It was his only real saving grace. The hawk and rabbit couldn't save him. 

No one could.

RR - Chapter 1

While I am not officially going to be posting this story on FF yet, I thought I'd tease the people who want to see RR continued, and show the first chapter. Apologies for any errors, but it is completely unedited.

________________________________________________

AN: Each chapter is going to be split into two sections. The first section with the focus on the now (five year after Bella jumped, so 2011) and the other section will focus on Bella's past. Unlike most of my works, the entirety of this story will be in third person, but ultimately focuses on Bella and Alice. It is Bella/Edward, but may or may not be a hea. This starts out five days after the vision/event in the Prelude

Chapter 1 – A Different Beginning

Alice hadn't heard from Edward since he left five days prior, and as she tried desperately to garner his future, it was so jumbled and unfocused that she couldn't be certain what he was going to do. For half of a millisecond she'd see him in some hospital room, then next she'd see him standing in front of Aro, the next in front of a blazing fire – already a hazy purplish-gray from that of a vampire burning – after that she'd see him back at home, and so on. She'd seen hundreds of possible futures, all pertaining to her brother, all without Bella, and all within a matter of seconds. Then they'd all repeat. She had no way to make sense of them.

She groaned, massaging her head from the headache she was getting by just trying to grasp onto something solid.

Jasper's hands reached up and started massaging her neck, reminding her she wasn't alone. “I'll protect you from everything I can, love, even our family, but eventually you are going to have to tell them what happened.” He left out the tell me in his words, but she knew it hurt him that she was keeping what she saw to herself. But how could she explain to any of them the vision that she'd had when she didn't fully understand it herself?

True, she understood that she'd been watching a game of Russian Roulette, she wasn't unfamiliar with the practice, but what she didn't understand was the why and the how. Why had Bella, her sister, been at that table? How had she gotten there?

More than that though, Alice could not wrap her mind around the expressions Bella had made, the way her eyes had lit up when her opponent had been first given the gun, the callous look to her face when he pulled the trigger, the defiance in her eyes when she pulled the trigger herself... it had been as if Bella had been communicating with someone, but she hadn't said a word the entire match.

She sighed, “I don't know how to explain it, Jas.”

“Start with the basics, what was it about?”

She could tell that her four family members were all listening to their conversation from different spots in the house. She couldn't blame them. The way Edward had taken off like a bat out of hell.. Well, she'd be curious too if she didn't know why already. It was the most animated he'd been since he'd come back.

“It was about Bella.”

“You're not supposed to be looking into her future. You promised.” She knew Jasper wasn't referring to her promise to Edward, he was referring to her promise to him. After Edward had come back, she'd had a moment of weakness where she'd wanted to taunt him with the vision of Bella's gravestone, acting out in petty anger, but Jasper had realized what she was contemplating before she followed through with it and had made her promise to let her brother's old wounds heal.

“I wasn't looking, but that doesn't mean I don't see. And once I was in, I couldn't get out.” Not until she'd seen too much, heard too much.

“What was she doing?”

“She was at a table somewhere, I'm not sure where, and she was... I'm not sure what she was doing.”

“Yes you do. Tell me.” Jasper turned her to look at him.

“She killed herself.” The words tumbled out before Alice could stop it. She knew it was wrong to say that as she wasn't certain that Bella was dead, she hadn't been able to see Bella pull the trigger after all, but it was the only thing that made sense in her mind.

She heard Esme gasp from the study downstairs, and from the others, it was complete silence, which was telling in itself.

“What happened?” Jasper said it calmly, but Alice knew her husband and she was well familiar with the fact that it was forced.

“She was playing Russian Roulette, I didn't actually see her kill herself, as all my senses were cut off in the vision right at the end except sound, but she'd been holding the gun just before everything went black. Right after that there was a resounding bang and then I was able to yank free of the vision.”

Carlisle was at their bedroom door before Alice had finished speaking. He'd grasped almost immediately what Alice had been trying desperately to determine for the last five days. “And what does that mean of Edward?”

“I don't know, because he doesn't know. Not yet. I couldn't tell him that she was dead, that it was too late for him to save her. For now, he's searching, but once he realizes she's dead, if he ever realizes it, I am relatively sure he'll follow. I can't be sure though, because he hasn't decided to go that route, not yet. It's flickered a few times, but mostly there are just hundreds of nonsensical visions – some that make sense, others that don't.”

“We need to go find him.”

“And what do you think he'll do if we show up and he reads our thoughts? Right now, he has hope, no matter how fleeting and small. It's enough to keep him going. If we show up, he'll lose that. And then I don't need a vision to know what he'll do next.” Alice didn't add that they couldn't stop him if he really wanted to die. She suddenly had a sick understanding of what the vision of the pyre had been.

“You're telling me that there's nothing we can do?” Carlisle demanded, there was a tension in his body that she rarely saw. At times, she forgot just how much Carlisle loved Edward, but times like this reminded her that he had been Carlisle's first creation and first companion.

“Some of my visions show him coming back to us on his own. I think that maybe if we stay out of the way he might come to terms with losing her and come back, though he'll never be alright again. But if we try to force that choice on him then I assure you he's already lost.” As she said the words, Alice knew she was right. If they so much as took one step in the direction of getting involved then all would be lost.

She could hear Esme quietly sobbing downstairs, saw Jasper open his mouth to speak, and then she wasn't there anymore. Instead she was flung into a vision of Edward's very immediate future, one she'd wish for the rest of her life she could have gotten away with not seeing.

June 2006

Jake wrapped his arms around her waist. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Was Bella sure she wanted to die? No. What choice did she have though? “I won't let there be another Leah because of me.”

“You're avoiding the question, Bells. Talk to me. We can find another way.”

“Sam wants me gone, Jake.” Victoria had sent five vampires after Bella just a month and a half earlier. The werewolves had managed to kill them all, but they hadn't been prepared, and the cost had been high. Leah, who had only been a werewolf for a little over a month, had died, her body torn into pieces. Bella knew, because Sam had made her look after it was all over.

“I'll fight him on that if you want to stay.” She knew he would, which was one of the many reasons she had to go.

“And what happens when Victoria gets even more inventive and manages to kill a human, like Kristy?” Brady Fuller's little sister who had been born a mere week and a half ago was the only reason Jacob had finally agreed to let her go. After the fight that had killed Leah, Bella had received a letter in the mail, it held only one line of text:

“Come to Seattle and no one else has to die.”

It had been the fanciest cursive Bella had ever seen. She didn't need anyone to tell her who had written it. When she'd told the wolf pack about the letter, the pack had become pretty divided. Seth and Jacob had been determined she would stay, and Quil and Embry had agreed though she had seen the truth in Embry's eyes, that he actually thought she should go, but he wouldn't go against his best friend. On the other side of the table were Sam, Paul, Jared, Collin and Brady. All of them believed she should leave. None of them wanted to bury another one of their own.

Behind her, she felt Jacob shudder. She'd hit below the belt deliberately. “Then that blood would be on Victoria's head, not yours.” He held firm.

“Jake, you say that now, but we both know that if she killed your imprint then you'd blame me. You'd probably kill me yourself. I won't let you lose your reason for being just because I'm stubbornly clinging to the only family I truly have left.” She didn't bother to say she'd already lost hers.

That March, after she'd jumped for the first time from the cliff she was standing on now, she'd tried to make it work with Jake. They'd kissed a few times, went on a couple dates, but at the end of the day when she went to bed at night, it left her feeling worse than it had before. It was as if she was betraying her very soul. When she'd explained it to Jake, he'd understood, and helped her to understand better than she had before.

He'd explained to her how wolves imprinted, and also explained to her the legends that talked about vampire mates. He suspected that even though she was just human, somehow she'd formed the mate bond with him.

After that they went back to being just friends, and Bella explained to Jake about the voice she heard. He once again had understood and ultimately helped her chase them by being with her every time she jumped off the cliff.

Still, until he saw Kristy for the first time he hadn't understood her desire to leave. In fact, he had been adamantly against it.

“I wouldn't do that.” Jake sounded horrified by her words.

“You may not think you would now, but if something like that happened...” Bella didn't finish her sentence. She didn't need to, she knew Jake would get it.

“I don't like it, Bella. There has to be a better way than this.”

“She sent five last time, next time she might send twenty. You guys wouldn't survive, and I can't bear it if yet another dies because of me.” She closed her eyes, remembering the sight of one of Leah's light gray hind legs in a bush, the other thirty feet away, blood everywhere. “Victoria wants me dead in the worst way possible. I need to go, before more of you get hurt.”

Jacob sighed. “I don't like it.”

“You don't have to, just be sure and protect my dad after I'm gone. More than likely he'll never hear I died, because she'll destroy the evidence of my death afterwards. You need to make sure it stays that way. It's bad enough that I'm going to emotionally ruin him.”

Jacob shuddered violently. “Don't say stuff like that. You'll make it through this. I have to believe that.”

“Jake...” She said the word indulgently, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Come on, jump with me. One last time. For me.” She pulled away from him.

She heard him pull his shirt off and proceeded to yank off her own. She took two steps back and then raced forward, flinging herself off the cliff. She didn't hear his voice doing this anymore, but it was at least a way for her to forget everything, at least for the two point three seconds it took her to hit the water.

She righted herself in the water and kicked up to the surface just as Jacob splashed down ten feet to her left. The small riptide caused from his mass displacing the water sent her reeling under the surface again. She once again kicked to the top.

Jacob surfaced beside her a moment later. “Did you hear him this time?”

It was an intimate question, one that felt more invasive now that he'd imprinted than it had before. “No.”

“Maybe you're finally moving on.” He said it softly, hopefully. She knew that even though he'd understood what was going on with her better than she herself had, he thought it was unhealthy. She knew he believed that it couldn't be healthy for a human to have such a strong bond with an immortal being

“I'm not, the gaping hole in my chest is an ever reminder of my loss. I don't think it's possible for me to move on. Do wolves that lose their imprints ever move on?” It was only comparison she had that she could give Jake.

“No.” He growled, not an actual growl, but a human imitation of one. “I wish he was still here. I'd kick his ass for leaving you like this – half-dead and eternally chasing a memory.”

She shrugged. “It's not his fault that the mate thing was apparently one-sided.” She started swimming to shore.

She could practically hear Jacob biting his tongue as he swam behind her and normally she would tell him to spit it out, but she honestly didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to hear him. She knew her decision rubbed him the wrong way. She knew he disagreed, but he didn't understand, it was horrifying enough to have the blood of one on her hands. And it didn't matter what Jake said, Leah's death rested solely at her feet and she knew it.

When they got to shore, he walked with her to her bike. “Are you sure?” He asked again as they arrived at her bike and she pulled on the leather jacket he'd bought her as a graduation present.

She knew, he'd ask it every fifteen seconds if he thought he could get her to say no just once. She knew that him seeing one moment of indecision would be all that it would take, and then she'd never leave. “Yes I am,” she said resolutely.

“Please. Stay.”

She closed her eyes against the pain that his plea caused her. She knew he understood better than before why she had to leave, but he was stubborn and resisting. “I'm sorry Jake, I can't.” She stood up on the tips of her toes and kissed him chastely one last time before she got on her bike.

She started it up and took off, heading home, also for her final time.