Text Size Large SizeMedium SizeSmall Size    Color Scheme Black SchemeWhite SchemeGrey SchemePaper Scheme        

My Singer

What if Edward had been unable to resist the temptation of Bella's blood on that fateful day? What if it resulted in her transformation? Would their love story be the same?

Even though I say this is angsty, I'm not generally an angst writer. I tend to try to have a good balance, so this isn't anything too hardcore. I'm not completely sure of whether or not there will be more angst in future chapters or what.

5. Chapter 5

Rating 5/5   Word Count 2132   Review this Chapter

For the next two weeks, things are rather uneventful. We're still being forced to go to school every day (where all anyone talks about is whether or not Bella's still alive). The other students are sending us strange looks, as though they somehow know that we--or I, rather--are the reason for their classmate's mysterious disappearance. When I check their thoughts, they are no more suspicious of us than before; despite this, my siblings have been on edge, although Jasper attempts to keep us relatively calm. One afternoon, there is an unfamiliar car in our driveway as we return from school. Alice sends me a look from the passenger's seat.

"What's that smell?" she demands.

"I don't know...it's familiar," I say, searching through my memory for the odor that lingers in the air.

"It almost smells like dog," Jasper says. My eyes widen in understanding.

"Werewolves," I mutter under my breath as the memories of our last encounter with the Quileutes returns to me.

"What?" Alice hisses. "No, that's impossible. I would've seen that."

"I know that smell, Alice. Emmett and Rosalie should recognize it, too," I insist. As though to verify my claims, she turns to face the back seat, and each of them nod. "I can hear him thinking; he wants us to get out of the car. He knows about Bella," I inform them.

"Look what you've gotten us into! He could expose all of us!" scolds Rosalie.

I pull out my cell phone to call the hospital and a receptionist connects me to Carlisle. "What is it?" he asks urgently.

"There's someone from La Push parked in our driveway. I think he's a werewolf," I whisper.

"I wasn't aware that there were any of them left."

"Neither was I, but we can all smell him. He knows about Bella," I explain.

"What's his name?" Carlisle asks.

"I can't be sure. He's not thinking about his name right now. What should we do?"

"Invite him inside, remain calm with him, and wait for me to get there. I'll try to end my shift early." I can hear the pain in his voice as he speaks, for the idea of leaving early and allowing even one life to end disturbs him.

"All right," I agree, hanging up. Looking up, I see that everyone else has already gotten out of the car and I follow. We stand beside the unfamiliar sedan, gathered around the driver's door; through the window, we see that a dark-skinned man is sitting down, gazing up at us placidly. He wrinkles his nose, and I hear him thinking about how terrible we smell. He opens the door and climbs out, closing it gently behind him.

"My name is Sam Uley. I've come to speak with you all on behalf of the people in La Push," he says, his expression calm.

"Our father's not here right now," I inform him.

"I can wait," he says.

"Well, come inside, then," I offer, nodding my head toward the house. My siblings stare at me with their mouths hanging wide open, mentally asking me if I'm insane. Sam Uley ignores them, following me to the front door. Once we're inside, we walk into the den, where he sits awkwardly on a couch.

"Have you heard about Chief Swan's daughter?" he asks casually.

"Of course," I answer stiffly.

"It's a shame. She's all Charlie's got. I hope she's all right," he continues.

"As do I," I agree, sitting in an armchair. He sends me a look of disbelief, a stream of profanity racing through his mind, damning me to hell. I want to tell him that it's too late for that; I'm already in hell.

"Look, we all know you're not here for small talk," sneers Rosalie, who's standing in the entrance of the room. Alice reaches out for her arm, but Rosalie yanks it away and walks over to our visitor. "What do you really want?"

His face shows no sign of emotion. "I suppose you already know."

"Rose," Emmett says, draping an arm across her shoulder and turning her away from Uley. She attempts to spin around, but he restrains her.

"Emmett," she mutters through gritted teeth. Alice gracefully strolls over to the sofa that Sam Uley is sitting in. There's a smile on her face, though I can clearly hear her angry thoughts.

"Surely you haven't come to visit. Tell us why you're here," she says.

"The treaty is broken," he states.

"Oh?" she asks simply.

"We know that one of you is responsible for the death of Isabella Swan," he clarifies.

"And when you say 'we', you mean you and your dog buddies?" Rosalie spits, breaking away from Emmett's grasp.

"When I say 'we', I mean myself and the other Quileutes," he says.

"What makes you think she's dead?" Emmett wonders.

"No one goes missing for two weeks without dying, especially not if your kind are behind it."

"Well, what makes you think we're behind it?" Alice asks politely.

"The door was ripped from its hinges; a few drops of blood were found on the carpet of the living room, despite your obvious attempts to clean the place up. For those of us who know better, it points to vampires," he explains. "And then there was the smell."

"We're not the only vampires in the world," I remind him.

"No," he admits, "but why else would your scent be the one I found throughout the house?" I clench my jaw tightly, trying to restrain myself.

"Why don't we wait for Carlisle in the kitchen?" suggests Jasper. Relax, he thinks, attempting to calm me down.

"That's a good idea," Alice agrees. Come on, we don't want to upset him more. Everyone but Sam Uley files into the kitchen. I lean against the counter, standing completely still, barely daring to breathe. Beneath Jasper's synthetic tranquility, I can feel remorse bubbling to the surface once more; the idea of yet another consequence for my actions is almost unbearable. I avoid looking up at my family, ashamed of what I've done. The moments stretch on for what seems like hours; finally, I hear Carlisle driving up. When he comes through the door, his first thought is that we all must be present as he tries to negotiate with Uley, and he stresses the importance of staying diplomatic. I quietly relay the message to the others before we all walk back into the den, where Carlisle and the werewolf are standing about two feet apart.

"I suppose you know why I'm here?" Uley says.

"Indeed, I do," Carlisle replies.

"One of you has killed a human; the treaty is broken, and we are no longer obligated to keep your existence secret," he explains.

"She's still alive," Rosalie corrects him. Uley's calm expression briefly flashes to one of confusion.

"But she has been bitten?" he asks. Carlisle nods. So she may as well be dead, thinks Uley bitterly.

"She's--" Alice begins.

"One of you now," finishes Uley. He pauses before going on to say, "Either way, the treaty is broken. We are willing to conceal your identities if you meet our demands."

"And what would those be?" Carlisle inquires.

"Only one: stay out of Forks, and out of Washington. Forever."

"And when does 'forever' begin?" I ask.

"Tonight," he answers darkly.

"We can't just up and leave. People will grow suspicious," Alice remarks.

"That is not any concern of mine."

"But it should be. If they find out about us, what is there to hold us to our word? If everyone knows the truth, there's no reason for us to stay away from Forks and nothing to keep us from hunting here," she points out.

"Another week would be ideal," Carlisle agrees. Uley thinks this over before nodding.

"All right. One week, and then you're to stay out of Washington," he says, shaking Carlisle's hand curtly. Without another word, Sam Uley walks out of the house; once we hear him drive away, a collective sigh goes around the room.

Bella Swan

"It's amazing how difficult it is to find a big enough house; everything is either too close to other houses, or it's too small! I suppose a fixer-upper would do, but there's just no time," sighs Esme.

"Don't worry, you're welcome to stay with us as long as you like," Tanya offers, taking a seat next to her on the large couch.

"Oh, but I know how you like to have human company, and with Bella here..." Esme trails off, glancing across the room, where I'm slumped in an oversized armchair. I can't help but scoff inwardly at her word choice, but she is much too polite to openly discuss Tanya's lifestyle.

"Speaking of company," Tanya says, "when were the others supposed to come, again?"

"In three weeks, or so," Esme replies. "I doubt that we'll all be able to live in your house comfortably. It'd be best if I continued searching." With that, she stands up and walks out of the room.

"So, Bella. How are you?" Tanya wonders.

It would be rude to tell her how utterly boring it is to be a vampire, or how my throat constantly feels as though it's on fire. "Fine, I guess," I tell her, shrugging. An awkward silence follows, unbroken until a shrill ringing sound comes from the small cell phone on the coffee table.

"Esme forgot her phone," Tanya mutters, picking it up and holding it to her ear. "Hello, Carlisle. No, she's out house-hunting and left it here by accident. A week? All right, I'll tell her." Noticing my curious expression, she turns to me after hanging up and says, "For some reason, they said they've changed their plans. They'll be up in a week."

"Esme will have a fit," I comment.

Despite the frown on her face, Tanya's features are still breathtaking. I can only stare; at one time, when I first saw my reflection after being transformed, I'd thought myself beautiful, or at least pretty. Now, with the Denali clan, I may as well be a pebble among diamonds; they are almost more beautiful than Rosalie. "Honestly, I don't understand why she rejects my offers so ardently." Eleazar enters the room then, Carmen at his side. He turns to look at me, his brow furrowed in concentration as his eyes focus on mine.

"Will you quit it? It will never work on her," Carmen hisses to her mate. He smiles apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Bella, I'm just so unused to your strange abilities." For the past two weeks, he has desperately been attempting to use his gift on me, but he has failed each time; I make a point not to relax too much around him for fear that he may use his persuasive talents on me. Even he is beautiful, with his delicate bone structure and pink lips and those long, blonde lashes that form halos around his golden eyes. And Carmen is absolutely angelic, her ghostly pale skin surrounded by a head of soft, black curls, her red mouth set in the kindest of smiles.

"Please excuse my husband," she chimes, her voice more pleasant than a harp's song. "It upsets him that he cannot force you into doing whatever he likes."

"It's all right, Carmen. Psychic vampires get testy when their powers don't work," I tease, smirking. It had once been difficult for me to say the word 'vampire', but I'm slowly growing more accustomed to it. She laughs.

"Imagine it--being normal," she says sarcastically, shuddering as she speaks.

"Carmen, dear, where are Irina and Kate?" Tanya wants to know.

"I believe they said something about going to town for a day or two," Carmen answers. It is an unspoken yet clear truth that the other women of the coven are satisfying the lust that cannot be quenched by blood. The constant burning in my throat worsens and venom pools in my mouth at the idea of going to town with all those people...

Seeing the wistful look on my face, Tanya suggests that we all go hunting when Esme returns. I groan at the thought; animal blood soothes the pain, but only temporarily, and the taste is hardly bearable. I can't even begin to imagine how Tanya and her sisters manage to be so close to human men without draining them of their blood.

"Why are the other Cullens coming up so soon?" wonders Eleazar, who undoubtedly listened in on the conversation.

"I'm not sure. Carlisle didn't say why; he just wanted me to pass the message to his wife," Tanya explains. A sly smile plays at her lips. "A little company around here wouldn't be so bad."

"Oh, no, not again," mutters Carmen.

"Am I missing something here?" I ask.

"Yes," says Eleazar, "and you should be grateful for that. By next week...well, you will not be missing out on anything." He grins at me, winking.

This is definitely not good.