For All Deer Kind

"Jazz, please! Just hear me out.."

"Alice, no."

"Stop being difficult and just listen to me. It'll be different this time I swear." She was exasperated, bouncing up and down next to me. I ignored her, and made a point to deliberately annoy her. I brought my middle finger, ever so slowly, up to my face and dabbed it on my tongue. Then, at a snails pace, I brought it back down to the corner of the page I was reading. Pulling back I purposefully failed to catch the corner a few times. Before I could complete the task, however, the book was ripped from my hands and thrown across the room. Alice crossed her arms and huffed.

"I hate when you do that." I could feel her frustration, but I could also feel mirth swirling around as well. I humored her.

"You love when I do that." Chuckling, I stood and walked out of my study, heading for the stairs. Alice was right on my heels, never missing a beat.

"You just have to trust me when it comes to these things. I can't tell you why, obviously, but I can tell you it'll save you a lot of trouble in the next couple of months." She tugged on my arm as she spoke, pulling at it like a child would.

Gently but firmly shaking her off I turned her shoulders to face me head on. "Alice, listen," I pinched the bridge of my nose before letting out a tense breath. "there's no fucking chance in hell I'm playing school with you again. Not only is it boring to the point of contemplating suicide, but the emotions coming off of those pheromone filled sacks of blood is enough to drive anyone to mass murder, let alone an empath. Picture heads rolling out of lockers and rivers of blood flowing through the hallways."

I turned and walked into the living room where the others were currently relaxing. Emmet chuckled and patted the spot on the floor next to him. "Rematch fucker. I'm determined to beat you." He said as he tossed the controller at my face. I caught it swiftly with a scowl that held no real contempt.

Esme and Carlisle sat peacefully on the couch, his hand playing gently with her hair as she sketched out new plans for a garden. Edward sat at his piano, playing something just as dry and uptight as he was. I felt his irritation at that last thought, so I mentally flipped him off and took the seat next to Em.

"You know it's not too late for the rest of you," Edward piped up. "we're only a few weeks in. Just because Jasper refuses to be a part of society doesn't mean the rest of you have to follow suit."

"I refuse to play your human charade. Frolicking through hallways with those children, pretending to give a shit, it's torture. I've been to war for fuck's sake. They know nothing. I could probably hold a more interesting conversation with a chicken." This time it was Rose's turn to snicker, her voice carrying out from the garage. "Babe, tell him the chicken story."

"Oh shit, Jazz you're gonna love this one." He bellowed, throwing his body this way and that in a fruitless attempt to dodge my attacks in the game. "So Rosie and I are on our second or third honeymoon in Russia right? Middle of winter. Colder than a witch's tit. Heading north to see some polar bears. We stop to make sweet sweet lo-"

Rose's growl cut him off. "Not that part of the story jackass."

"Sorry babe. So, I'm hunting up some beaver on the half shell in the Russian arctic-" A whooshing sound caught my attention. A wrench had been thrown at dangerous speeds out of the garrage and nailed Emmet in the back of the head. It bounced off and was sent hurtling to the other side of the room, embedding itself in the dry wall.

Esme made a soft noise of disapproval, but her eyes held amusement and her emotions reflected nothing but love and indulgence. "Now, was that really necessary dear?"

"FUCK ROSIE. That almost hurt." He whined, rubbing the back of his head. He quickly grabbed the controller, however, when he realized I was gaining the upper hand.

"Don't be such a baby," She purred. "I'll kiss it better when I'm done with Jaspers hunk o' junk over here." Emmet leaned over and winked at me. "Totally worth it."

"Leave my truck outta your sick shit." I grumbled. They made it their personal mission to fuck on every surface known to man. My old girl didn't deserve that fate. If anyone's gonna christen her benches its gonna be me.

"So, as I was saying before I was so rudely interupted," he started, elbowing me in the ribs. "I look up in the desolate arctic wastelands and what do I see?"

"A chicken?"

"A god damn chicken." His voice dropped as he took on a serious tone. "I chased that prehistoric feathery fuck all through the arctic. Chased him for hours, didn't I babe?" Rose hummed in agreement, shutting the hood of my truck and entering the house.

"I had so many questions. How did it get there? Where was it going? Why wasn't it a frozen poultry pop? Did it cross a road at some point? We were hundreds of miles from any sort of civilization that could have a farm, it was minus 30 degrees fahrenheit, and there was this chicken."

Rose came to stand behind her mate, her fingers combing gently through his hair and massaging his scalp. They had a love that could move mountains. Even in these small moments the love they shared could melt stone. It was the same for Carlisle and Esme, Peter and Char. Mated pairs love with a love that can crush planets. Obliterate entire solar systems.

I try to block it out most days. My brain can't understand love like that. My body rejects it. Before Peter came along, I was a reaper, bringing death in my wake. I fed off the anger, the dispair, the fear. As an empath it consumed me. Peter got me out before there wasn't any of me left to save. He and Char taught me it didn't always have to be that way. That living is harder than just surviving, but its worth it in the end. I'm still not sure I believe him, but I owe it to that fucker to at least try. The man saved my life. That doesn't mean I dont tell him where he can shove his live, laugh, love, hippy bullshit. He says I'm making progress, what with my yellow eyed friends and all. Fuck face.

"..I chased him till he dropped dead of exhaustion. I was actually pretty upset about the whole thing, until Rosie pointed out our little guardian chicken had lead us straight to the polar bears." He looked up at her with a twinkle shining in his eyes as her giggles floated through the room.

"I fail to see how any of this is relevant." Edward sighed.

"Jasper is right, Edward." She looked up from inspecting her nails to throw him a glare. "Playing school with the humans is boring."

"Winner winner chicken dinner." I said, and with one final press of a button it was game over for ole' Emmy boy.

He sat stock still for four whole seconds before jumping to his feet and smashing the controller on the ground. Muttering profanities he grabbed Rose's hand and headed for the door. "Fuck school and fuck this game. We have philosophical chickens to chase." He all but yelled over his shoulder on his way out.

Alice, who had been a silent observer through this little display, flitted gracefully to Emmets now vacant spot. "I reserve the right to say 'I told you so' when this blows up in your face." I knew she meant well, but I was irate. She had been pestering me for the last month about attending school this year. I wasn't having it.

"Alice, leave me out of your precognitive bullshit." I said, standing slowly. "Nothing is worth putting myself through that torture again. I'd rather piss glass." And with that I walked out of the house at a leisurely pace.

I could feel the disappointment coming off her in waves. Her feelings were hurt, but she'd get over it. She knew better than to press me on things like this. Most of the time.

Alice and I weren't best friends. We weren't lovers or partners. We weren't family. We met at a bad time in both of our lives and pulled each other up by the bootstraps. Maybe there could have been something between us, something more, but it wasn't right. She wants a good man, a family, a home. Besides wanting to feed and fuck my way through the continental U.S., I don't want anything. Pete says my disinterest in the people and things around me are tell tale signs of depression. PTSD and all that shit. I tell Pete to fuck completely off.

My irritation sparks the burn in my throat so I take off in a random direction. I love the hunt. The chase. The kill. Human, animal, vampire, it doesn't matter. There's something beautifully primal about it. An honest glimpse into nature and her cruel ways. There is no life without death. No happiness without sorrow. No love without loss. Or some shit like that.

As I ran I heard the tell tale signs of my prey to the west. The soft wet thudding of slow beating hearts. The gentle snorts and huffs of does and fawns. A buck stomping proudly. I change course and stay downwind, moving quickly and silently towards my next meal. By the time he saw me, it was far too late. I lept, jaws clamping around his neck with ease. He thrashed about as I drank deeply, his struggles practically forcing the blood down my throat. It covered my face and dripped down my chin. When I was done, I stood to my full height, the buck's body falling to the ground with a soft thud.

I took in my surroundings. The moon was high in the sky tonight, casting a soft white light on the forest floor wherever the trees would allow it. The streams bubbled lazily and the frogs peeped happily, as if an atrocity to all deer kind hadn't just been commited a few feet from them. Cheeky bastards.

As I turned to leave thats when I heard it. A human, about two miles due east, stalking an unsuspecting doe that had been separated from the heard. The hunter's steps were quiet and sure, their heart beat steady and their breathing controlled. I took off at an unhurried pace, my curiosity getting the better of me.

I heard the hunter exhale and wait, for what felt like an eternity, before taking the shot. But when they did they were right on the money. Head shot, judging by the sound of the crunch. The doe fell softly to the ground and exhaled its final breath, just as the hunter had moments before. I heard the somewhat familiar sounds of a deer being field dressed. A knife slicing through hide. The dull scrape as it hit bone. The sloshing of internal organs.

As I rounded a large boulder the sight of her took my breath away. It stopped me dead in my tracts. She was a vision in red. A vampires wet dream. Blood covered her arms up to her elbows. It was streaked and smeared across her face from repeated attempts to wipe the sweat from her brow. It soaked her clothes and matted her curly hair. It stained her lips. She worked tirelessly, though she looked exhausted, carefully inspecting each organ she pulled out, all the while humming a tune I couldn't place.

I stumbled back a step at the sheer intensity of the sight before me. Everything about her was so macabre. It set me on fire. The pale moonlight surrounding her was in sharp contrast with the almost black blood that covered her form as she worked, elbow deep in entrails and gore. She was Artemis, brought down from Olympus I was sure of it. Goddess of the hunt. Her bow propped up on a tree next to her. Her arrow, now burried in between the eyes of the deer, revealed her skill. A perfect shot, quick and painless.

As the wind shifted I got a whiff of this midnight huntress. Pure bliss. She smelled like the fields of barley from my human days, warm from the blistering sun. Smokey, like a campfire on a cold night when the air stings your nose. She smelled like crisp saltwater and juicy peaches. She smelled like life itself. This did nothing to stop the burn inside me, in fact it set me ablaze. I watched with hungry eyes as she wiped her hands on her stomach in an effort to clean herself up. Her shirt rose up ever so slightly and I caught a glimpse of her midriff. My dick twitched and I silently groaned.

I lusted after her in every way. In the worst ways. I wanted to fuck her senseless in these woods and bathe us in the blood of her kill. I wanted to bury myself in her, teeth and cock, as she screamed my name. Like the finest wine or scotch, her body and blood were meant to be savored, time and time again. I had to have her.

I was in a haze as I started towards her. I don't think I could have stopped if my life depended on it. Just then the wind shifted carrying her scent away from me. She cocked her head to the side and gave a little sniff, and almost as if she could smell me she froze, hunched over the carcass. Her green eyes snapped up and locked on to mine, piercing through my skull. Her haunting gaze pinned me to the spot. It was dark enought that she probably couldn't see me, but the intensity of her stare made me think twice. I looked like the stuff of nightmares. If she could see me, she made no reaction. Blood and fur covered my face, neck, and hands. My eyes were definitely pitch black and I'm sure my expression was that of a crazed hunger struck madman. Her eyes never released mine as she said one word, almost too quietly for even my ears to hear.

"Mine."

Fuck.