7If you recognize it, then I probably don't own it
Chapter 10: Scent
They were both brats. Edward leaving for Jake to come over, I thought we were past all this. But given that I still couldn't decide between the two of them. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea.
"It's not that I feel any personal antagonism toward him, Peach, it's just easier for both of us," Edward told me at the door. "I won't be far away. You'll be safe."
"I'm not worried about that."
He smiled, and then a sly look came into his eye. He pulled my close, burying his face in my hair. I could feel his cool breath on my neck.
"I'll be right back," he said, and then he laughed aloud as if I'd just told a goodbye joke.
"What's so funny?"
But Edward just grinned and loped off toward the threes without answering.
Grumbling to myself I went to clean the living room of my brothers various toys. No sooner had I opened the drawers, the doorbell rang. It was hard to get used to how much faster he was without his car.
"Come in, Jake!" I shouted.
I was concentrating on piling the Legos into the drawer that I forgotten that Jake moved like a ghost these days. So it made me jump when his voice was suddenly there behind me.
"Should you really leave your door unlocked like that? Oh, sorry."
I'd lost my balance and tripped into the cabinet when he'd startled me.
"I'm not worried about anyone who would be deterred by a locked door," I said, pushing my hair back from my face.
"Good point," he agreed.
I turned to look at him, eyeing him critically. "Is it really so hard for you to wear clothes, Jake?" I asked. Once again, Jake was bare-chested, wearing nothing but a pair of old sweat pants that hung dangerously low on his hips. Secretly, I wondered if he was just so proud of his new muscles he couldn't stand to cover them up. I mean, they were impressive and very nice to look at—but I'd never figured him for the type to flaunt. "I mean I know you don't get cold anymore, but still."
He ran a hand through his wet hair; it was falling in his eyes.
"It's just easier." He explained.
"What's easier?"
He smiled condescendingly, "It's a big enough pain to carry the sweatpants with me. What do I look like a pack mule?"
"If I squint, sure."
His expression changed, like I was missing something obvious. "My clothes don't just pop in and out of existence when I change—I have to carry them with me while I run."
I sucked my cheeks, "I guess I didn't think of that."
He laughed and pulled up his left pant leg. A thin black leather cord, as thin as a strand of yarn, was wound three times below his left calf like an anklet. I hadn't noticed before that his feet were bare, too. "That's more than just a fashion statement—it sucks to carry your pants in your mouth."
I didn't know what to say to that.
He grinned, "Does my being half-naked bother you?"
"I've seen you naked plenty of times."
Jake laughed again, and I turned my back to tuck the rest of the Legos in the drawer, when he wrapped his arounds around me, his lips pressed dangerously close to my ear.
"I suppose I should get to work then, where do you want to start?"
I froze, my skin had goosebumps all over. How could I say 'let's check out the bedroom?' And not let that sound like an innuendo.
"Jake, he's…"
Jake let go of me and sighed, "I wouldn't want to give him the excuse to say I'm slacking on my side."
I turned to look at him.
"Now, where's the intruder's scent the worst?"
"My bedroom."
His eyes widened, then narrowed. He didn't like it any more than Edward had.
"I'll just be a minute."
I tucked more of Little Mikey's toys in the drawers. The only sound was the plastic being shoved against plastic. I listened for something from above, a creak of the floorboard, the click of a door. There was nothing. I realized I was holding the same handheld game system for too long.
"Whew!" Jake said, inches behind me, scaring me again.
I turned to look at him.
"Well, the scent was easy enough to catch. By the way, your room reeks."
"Thank you."
He laughed.
"Can I ask you something?"
"That depends on what you want to know."
"I'm not trying to be a jerk or anything—I'm honestly curious," Jacob assured me.
"Fine, go ahead."
He paused for a second. "What's it like—having a vampire for a boyfriend?"
I rolled my eyes, "He's not my boyfriend."
"I'm serious. Doesn't it bother you or creep you out?"
"It doesn't bother me that you turn into a werewolf?"
He was silent as he reached for my hands. I peeked up at his face—he was frowning, his lower lip jutting out.
"Anything else?"
He wrinkled his nose, "Can I ask another one," he said softly.
I nodded, trying to avoid his eyes.
"When you say after graduation do you mean…after graduation or after…"
"After," I whispered.
"So soon," he breathed, eyes closed. It didn't sound like a question, it sounded like resignation, a lament. The muscles in his arms tightened and shoulders were stiff. He held my hands like he didn't want to let go.
"Can I ask you another question," he said, trying to keep his voice even.
"Of course."
"What's it like having a werewolf for a bo—best friend?"
That question caught me off guard. I laughed.
"Do I creep you out?" He pressed before I could answer, his hands pulled mine to his chest. I could feel his heart beat.
"No. Never. You're the best." Then I qualified, "Especially when you're nice."
He grinned widely, smiling my it's-all-good smile. His teeth shining brightly against his russet skin. "Thanks Mir," he said, bringing my body closer into one of his famous Jake hugs.
Before I had time to react, he dropped his hands and stepped away.
"See you around, Mir."
"You're leaving?"
"He's waiting for me to go. I can hear him outside."
"Oh."
"I'll go out the back," he said, and then he paused. "Hold up a sec—hey, do you think you can come to La Push tonight? We're having a bonfire party. Emily will be there, and you could meet Kim… And I know Quil wants to see you, too. He's pretty peeved hat you found out before he did."
I grinned at him, "Of course. It might be a little tense right now, but I'll be there." I could just imagine Quil telling me off.
"He can't get past all six of us."
His big dark eyes were full of unashamed hope, and I nodded.
He ducked out the back door.
Seconds after he was gone, Edward walked slowly into the kitchen, raindrops glistening in his red brown hair. His eyes were shining. I went into the kitchen.
He took a big envelope from his jacket pocket and tossed it on the counter, "I got your mail."
"Anything worthwhile?"
"I think so."
My eyes narrowed at his tone, and I turned to investigate.
He placed the legal-sized envelope in my hand. I opened the already open flap, "You're a crime bag," I said as I took out the expensive paper and read the return address.
"I got curious," he shrugged.
"Dartmouth? For real?"
"It looks exactly like mine."
"What did you do?"
"I told you I know your College Board password," he shrugged again, "I just sent your application."
"I was born at night, but not last night."
"Dartmouth seems to think you're Dartmouth material."
I took a deep breath, put the toys down, and ran my fingers through my hair. "And how do I afford being Dartmouth material? And you're better off buying another sports car instead of paying for me to pretend to go to Dartmouth."
"I don't need another sports car. And you don't have to pretend anything," he muttered. "One year of college wouldn't kill you. Maybe you'd even like it. Just think about it, Peach. Imagine how excited your family would be…"
His velvet voice painted the picture in my head before I could block it. My parents and grandparents would beam with pride—no one would be able to escape the happiness that radiated off them. Grams would make her once-a-year chicken pot pie, my favorite food in the world, for me. And Gramps would hug me so tight and whisper 'my favorite little smartass' affectionally and make me cry.
Edward wrapped his arms around me, seemingly thinking that I had warmed to the notion.
I pulled away, "Flower, I'm worried about living through graduation, let alone the next school year."
He pulled me back in his arms and kissed the top of my head. "No one is going to hurt you. You have all the time in world."
"I'm thinking of telling them I'm taking a gap year and that we're going traveling. My dad'll fucking hate it, but this whole goddamn secrecy and lying thing is overwhelming."
Edward's body hardened around me, "It gets easier. After a few decades, every you know is dead. Problem solved."
I flinched out of his embrace and moved to the stairs to lock myself in my room.
He was faster than me and made it in front of the doorway.
"That was harsh, I'm sorry." He said blocking me from leaving the kitchen.
"Move," my voice broke.
"Peach…"
"It's true," I choked out, "They'll be dead, and I'll still be in high school."
He took my face in his hands, "If I get this resolved, whatever it is we're dealing with, will you consider waiting?"
I nodded. His head bent down and he kissed my lips passionately.
"Speaking of whatever this is," I said when we broke apart, "Can you tell Alice to please return my shirt, pillow, sweatshirt, and bra."
Edward gave me a confused look, then he went rigid.
"When did you notice things were missing?"
"When I got returned from the kidnapping, why?"
"I don't think Alice took anything. Not your clothes, not your pillow, certainty not your bra. The things that were taken, these things you'd worn…and touched…and slept on?"
I held my breath hoping he wouldn't say what I thought he'd say.
"Things with your scent." His expression was strained. "He was gathering traces…evidence. To prove he'd found you."
I shook my head, "Why?"
"I don't know, Miri, I don't…I swear to you I will find out."
I swallowed, wrapped my arms around him, and placed my head against his chest, "I know you will." Leaning there, I felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.
He put one arm around me and took his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the number. "Just the person I need to talk to," he flipped it open. "Carlisle, I—" He broke off and listened, his face taut with concentration for a few minutes. "I'll check it out. Listen…"
He explained about my missing things, but from the side I was hearing it sounded like Carlisle was as clueless as the rest of us.
"Maybe, I'll go…," Edward said, trailing off as his eyes drifted towards me, and his hands started lovingly rubbing my back. "Maybe not. Don't let Emmett go alone, you know how he gets. At least ask Alice to keep an eye on things. We'll figure this out later."
He snapped his phone shut. "Where's your paper?" He asked me.
"The garbage probably."
"I need to see something. I'll be right back."
He disappeared.
He was back in half a second, a wet newspaper in his hands. He spread it out on the table, his eyes scanning quickly across the headlines. He leaned in, intent on something he was reading.
"Carlisle's right…very sloppy. Young and crazed? Or a death wish?" he muttered to himself.
I went to peak over his shoulder.
The headline of the Seattle Times read: "Murder Epidemic Continues – Police Have No New Leads."
It was almost the same story Charlie had been complaining about a few weeks ago – the big-city violence that was pushing Seattle up the national murder list. It wasn't the same story, though. The numbers were a lot higher.
"It's getting worse."
He frowned. "Altogether out of control. This can't be the work of one newborn vampire. What's going on? It's as if they've never heard of the Volturi. Which is possible, I guess. No one has explained the rules to them… so who is creating them, then."
"The vampire mafia?" I shuddered.
"This is exactly the kind of thing they routinely wipe out – immortals who threaten to expose us. They just cleaned up a mess like this in Atlanta a few years ago, and it hadn't gotten nearly this bad. They will intervene soon, very soon, unless we can find someone way to calm the situation. I'd really rather they didn't come to Seattle just now. As long as they're this close…they might decide to check on you."
"So what do we do? Have a Murderous Vampires Anonymous?"
"We need to know more before we can decide that. Perhaps if we can talk to these young ones, explain the rules, it can be resolved peacefully." He frowned, like that was the biggest crock of shit he'd said, "We'll wait until Alice has an idea of what's going on…We don't want to step in until it's absolutely necessary. After all, it's not our responsibility. But, it's good we have Jasper," he added, to himself. "If we are dealing with newborns, he'll be very helpful."
"Jasper? What is he like? A vampire whisperer?"
Edward smiled at me darkly, "He's sort of an expert on young vampires."
"Let me guess, there's a story involved."
He flashed me a grin.
"This whole thing is a godforsaken mess."
"It does feel that way, doesn't it? Like it's coming at us from all sides these days." He sighed. "Do you ever think that your life might be easier if you weren't in love with me?"
"We tried that, and both failed miserably." I pointed.
"I couldn't get you out of my head," he agreed. "And now, I suppose," he continued with a wry smile, "you're going to tell me something I don't want to hear."
"I am?"
"Or maybe not." He grinned. "I was rather under the impression that you'd promised to go to some werewolf soiree tonight."
"You're such a fucking crime bag."
Edward grinned. "Just a little bit."
"Well, I'm going to a werewolf soiree tonight. And you can be stressed about it."
He put his hand under my chin and tilted my face up so he could read my eyes.
I just stared at him, trying to understand what he wanted, and I wanted to go to La Push. Yes, Jake and the wolf-boys could be so stupid. But right now, when they were just as—if not more—safe than the vampires. And more importantly, they made me feel like I belonged. And to escape the death threats, for a few hours…to be less-mature, more silly. And to ruthlessly judge Jake's baby-duck imprint thing.
"Miri, I told you I would be reasonable and trust your judgement. I mean that. If you trust the wolves, then I'm not going to worry about them."
"You're high," I accused.
"Jacob's right—about one thing, anyway—a pack of werewolves ought to be enough to protect you for one evening."
"Are you at all sober?"
"I hope you won't mind taking a few precautions," he went on, "Allowing me to drive you to the boundary line, for one. And taking your phone, so I'll know when to pick you up."
"That sounds reasonable… did you hit your head?"
He smiled at me, and I couldn't see a trace of apprehension in his eyes. Then he captured my mouth with his.
To no one's surprise, Charlie had no problem at all with me going to La Push for a bonfire. Jacob crowed with undisguised exultation when I called to give him the news, and he seemed eager enough to embrace Edward's safety measures. He promised to meet us at the line between territories at six.
I had decided that I would not sell my bike. I would take it back to La Push where it belonged and, when I couldn't use it anymore… I would have Jake sell it to profit from his hard work. Or he could give it to a friend.
Tonight, seemed like a good opportunity to return the bike to Jake's garage, its rightful home. As sad as it was for me to lose it, I couldn't procrastinate on giving it back. Only Edward was happier than my dad about giving the bike back. Something about it not being safe or something.
I followed Edward back to his garage, where I stored the bike, and then I realized his happiness might not be about the bike all along.
Next to my antique little motorcycle, overshadowing it, was a new sleek and silver and big. And it looked fast.
"What the fuck is that?"
"Nothing," Edward singsonged.
"I know what nothing looks like, and that's not fucking nothing."
Edward's expression was casual; he seemed determined to blow it off. "Well, I didn't know if you were going to forgive your friend, or he you, and I wondered if you still wanted to ride your bike anyway. It sounded like something you enjoyed. I thought that I could go with you, if you wished." He shrugged.
I stared at the bikes. Edward's massive fast thing and my small home repaired thing. I felt a wave of sadness when I realized that this wasn't a bad analogy for a comparison between Edward and Jake.
"I won't keep up with you." I told him.
Edward put his hand under my chin and pulled my face around so that he could see it straight on.
"I'll keep pace with you, Miri."
"I won't teach you had to ride it either."
"Of course, you would."
"Edward, if you thought I was going to fast or losing control or something, what would you do?"
He hesitated, obviously trying to find the right answer. I knew the truth; he'd find a way to stop me or save before I might crash.
Then he smiled. It looked effortless, except for the tiny defensive tightening of his eyes.
"This is something you do with Jacob. I see that now."
"It's just that, well…" I eyed the silver motorcycle doubtfully.
"Don't worry about it," Edward said, and then laughed lightly. "I saw Jasper admiring it. Perhaps it's time he discovered a new way to travel. Afterall, Alice has her Porsche now."
"Edward, I—"
He interrupted me with a kiss, "I said not to worry. But would you do something for me?"
"What?"
He dropped my face and leaned over the far side of the big motorcycle, retrieving something he had stashed there.
He came back with one fabric that was black and shapeless, and another that was red and easily identifiable.
"Please?" he asked, flashing a crocked smile.
I took the red helmet, weighing it in my hands. "I'll get helmet hair."
"And you'll look so hot. So hot and not hurt." He threw the black thing, whatever it was, over his arm and took my face in his hands again. "There are things between my hands right now that I can't live without. You could take care of them."
"What's the other thing?" I asked placing my hands on his.
He laughed and shook out some kind of padded jacket. "It's a riding jacket. I hear road rash is quite uncomfortable, not that I would know myself."
He held it out for me. With a deep sigh, I flipped my hair back and stuffed the helmet on my head. Then I shoved my arms through the sleeves of the jacket. He zipped me up, a smile playing around the corners of his lips, and took a step back.
I felt bulky.
"Be honest, how fugly do I look?"
He took another step back and pursed his lips.
"That horrible, huh?"
"No, no, Peach. Actually…" he seemed to be struggling for the right word. "You look… sexy."
I laughed out loud. "Right, sure."
"Very sexy, really," he said, "I could ravage you right here."
"You're saying that so that I'll wear it," I said.
He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his chest. "You're silly. I suppose that's part of your charm. Though, I'll admit it, this helmet does have it's drawbacks."
And then he pulled the helmet off so that he could kiss me.
As Edward drove me to La Push a little while later, I felt a strange sense of déjà vu.
"You know what this reminds me of?" I asked. "It's just like when I was seven years old, and my mom would pass me off to my dad for the summer."
Edward laughed.
I didn't mention it, but the biggest thing was at the time my parents were on better speaking terms.
About halfway to La Push, we rounded the corner and found Jake leaning against the side of a red Volkswagen he'd built for himself out of scraps. Jake's carefully neutral expression dissolved into a smile when I waved from the front seat.
Edward parked his car thirty yards away.
"Call me when you're ready to come home," he said. "And I'll be here."
"I won't be late," I promised.
Edward pulled the bike and my new gear out of the trunk of his car—I'd been impressed that his car fit it all. But it wasn't so hard to manage when you were strong when you were strong enough to juggle full-sized vans, let alone small motorcycles.
Jacob watched, making no move to approach, his smile gone and his dark indecipherable.
I tucked the helmet under my arm and threw the jacket across the seat.
"Do you have it all?" Edward asked.
"Yes mom." I assured him.
He sighed and leaned toward. I turned my face up for a goodbye peck, but Edward took me by surprise, fastening his arms tightly around me and kissing me with as much enthusiasm as he had in the garage—before long, I pushed him away.
Edward laughed quietly, and then let me go.
"Goodbye Peach." He said, "I really do like the jacket."
As I turned away from him, I thought I saw a flash of something in his eyes that I wasn't supposed to see. I couldn't tell for sure what it was exactly. Worry, maybe. I thought it was panic for a second. But I was probably just making something out of nothing, as usual.
I could feel his eyes on my back as I pushed my bike toward the invisible vampire-werewolf treaty line to meet Jacob.
"What's all that?" Jacob called to me, his voice wary, scrutinizing the motorcycle with an enigmatic expression.
"I thought I should put this back where it belongs," I told him.
He pondered that for one short second, and then his wide smile stretched across his face.
I knew the exact point that I was in werewolf territory because Jacob shoved away from his car and loped quickly to me, closing the distance in three long strides. He took the bike from me, balanced it on the kickstand, and grabbed me up in another vice hug.
I heard the Volvo's engine growl, and I struggled to get free.
"My ribs!" I gasped breathlessly.
He laughed and set me down. I turned to wave goodbye, but the silver car was already disappearing around the curve in the road.
"He's being pretty dang pleasant about this; what have you got on him?"
He laughed again, louder than before—I guess I was a comedienne now. I wasn't that funny. He was still laughing as he walked around the Rabbit to hold my door open for me.
"Mir," he finally said as he shut the door behind me, "What don't I have on him?"
So here's where i've been: starting working on my fics, had a breakdown, bon appetite. I'm all better now! so enjoy. updates will be very slow.