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


Finished. Six years after Breaking Dawn, a brutal murder is committed near Forks. When called in the middle of the night, Charlie Swan rushes off to do his civic duty and protect the public. Three hours later, he returns home with a new ward: the only survivor of the double homicide. From the beginning, it is clear that the poor thing needs a new start, a new life- and someone to save her from her old one, especially when ghosts from the past resurface. And, with Nessie determined to overcome her own demons, the two realize that friendship can come from the strangest places.

All of this belongs to Stephenie Meyer. Duh…

25. Chapter 25

Rating 5/5   Word Count 2507   Review this Chapter

Chapter Twenty-Five––

One thing that Iris certainly liked about Nahuel was that he too was an adventurer. He did not shy away from adventure or danger; he embraced it, faced it dead on and let Iris do her thing. Seth would be against trying to burn the spirit of Victoria away; Nahuel parked the car in front of Chief Swan’s house and asked her if she wanted the lighter fluid or the matches.

She stood in front of the old house with her hands shoved in her jacket pockets, hips cocked and head bent, waiting for Nahuel to ask if this was really a good idea. Instead, the hybrid walked up to the front door and inhaled deeply.

“I can’t smell anything,” he said simply.

Iris rolled her eyes. Big surprise there. If no one had been able to smell the ghost when the house was full and monsters roamed free every day, they sure as hell wouldn’t be able to smell it when no one had been home in months. “Uhm…duh,” she snapped.

“So what are you going to do?” Nahuel asked her.

His dark eyes carefully watched the silver lighter that she flicked in her palm. The silver glinted in the moonlight, ominously dancing with the thin flame that generated from within. It was the spark of death for any vampire, and he, the hybrid, feared it.

“I’m going to fix the problem,” she glanced at the house darkly. “Wait here,” she ordered.

“Wait!” Nahuel called to her, stepping after her but not daring to follow into the halls of Hell. “Are you sure that you should go alone?”

For a moment, Iris had been afraid that he was going to try to stop her. Her shoulders tensed and her scowl deepened, but when he finished his sentence, she relaxed. He wasn’t going to try to stop her at all. How boring. “Yes,” she snipped. “You can’t come, anyway. You’re scared of fire. What good would you be?”

He flinched. “I could protect you from her,”

“Even though you can’t see her,” scoffed Iris. “Don’t worry, Nahuel. I’ll be out in just a few minutes.” She glanced uncertainly around. “You might want to keep the car running though. I’m not sure how lively Chief Swan’s neighbors are. We will want a quick getaway,”

Nahuel let out a feral hiss. “My pleasure,” he smirked.

Iris winked at him. “Be back in a jiff,” and she sauntered into the old house.

The wooden floorboards creaked and groaned under her weight. The sudden wails echoed eerily in the empty walls. It was the first life the house had had in months, and the dead home rejoiced. Turning on a light would have been smart, but it took the adventure out of the entire ordeal, and Iris was not ready to let go. So she wondered the old home, going on memory and a sense of Victoria’s personality.

“What are you doing here?” a familiar voice hissed.

Iris whipped around. It wasn’t Victoria, but a much more familiar, a much happier voice. Except, when he was pissed; then Micah was just no fun. The apparition of her brother appeared suddenly, glaring at her with folded arms and a dark scowl. They looked so much alike then and there that her heart lurched. It was hard to believe that they were only half related.

“Hey stranger,” she gulped out.

“I’m going to kill you,” he snarled. “What are you doing here?”

Iris squared her shoulders staunchly. “I’m taking care of our little problem,”

“Our little problem isn’t really bothering anyone anymore,” Micah snapped. “You didn’t have to come back. You just wanted to,”

Iris shrugged. “You caught me. So what?”

“Iris!” Micah threw his arms up into the air. “Why do you keep doing these stupid things? You know it won’t end well! Why?”

“Because it’s fun,” Iris snapped. “Duh,”

Micah dropped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Life isn’t always about fun. Sometimes, it’s about being responsible,”

“I’m fifteen,” Iris argued.

“All the more reason to be responsible!” cried Micah. “Practice for when you’re an adult,”

“Don’t be so boring,” Iris retorted “It isn’t cool,”

“You have to grow up sometime, Iris,” Micah reminded her. “You can’t keep doing all of this stupid stuff,”

“Watch me,” Iris challenged.

She tried to push past him, but he grabbed her arm at the junction of her elbow. “And just where do you think you are going?” he demanded.

“I’m going to find Victoria,” Iris jerked her way free. “I suggest you get your ass out of this house,”

“I’m not leaving you,” hissed Micah.

“You’re funeral,” Iris scowled as she stormed up the stairs. She knew exactly where the redheaded freak would be: her room. She always seemed to like to hang out there, probably because it was were Bella stayed as a human. Her obsession was so way beyond creepy and freaky that even Iris was spooked. Not cool. She figured that destroying the monster would be her parting gift to her father. She would make his world perfect again, and then disappear forever, ending a horrible soap opera. What better gift could there be?

“I can’t leave you until I know you’re safe,” Micah called to her. “Until I know you will be taken care,”

“I can take care of myself,” Iris said as she climbed the stairs high up. “This doesn’t count,”

“Considering just how well you have done these past few weeks,” Micah glared pointedly at her bandaged body, “I think it does.”

“Well, you think wrong,” Iris said as she walked into her old room. Slamming the door shut, she quickly noticed the emptiness. She did the only plausible thing. “Hey! Victoria!” she yelled loudly. “Get your white assed self out here right now!”

That should do the trick.

“Hello, Iris,” the drawl came from behind her.

Chills ran up her spine and her hair stood on edge as Iris turned to face the voice. Victoria lounged in the old rocking chair that had never been used. One leg was casually tossed over the arm, and as she rocked, she looked like Bloody Mary on her throne. She smiled malevolently at her. “It’s been a long time,”

“I’ve been busy,” Iris snapped acerbically.

“And to what, do I owe the pleasure?” drawled the redhead.

Iris held up her lighter and a water bottle filled lighter fluid. “I’ve come to kill you,”

“Really?” Victoria pouted. “And here I thought we were such good friends.” Her eyes caught the glint of the silver crucifix hanging off Iris’s collarbones and her lips curled back into an animalistic snarl. “Trinkets won’t protect you from the brutality of the world,” she hissed.

Iris glanced down. “This thing?” she taunted, unperturbed. “Of course it doesn’t. Never kept your freak ass away from me while I lived here,”

Victoria threw her head back and laughed angelically. Then silence descended up on the world, and she was suddenly in front of Iris so close that their noses nearly touched. “That’s what I like about you. You have some spunk, a backbone––unlike your sister.” She trailed a finger down Iris’s cheek. “It’s a shame that I’m going to kill you,”

Iris jerked back. “You aren’t going to do anything to me,” she retorted.

“And why is that, precious?” teased the vampire’s ghost.

“ Because you can’t. I am going to look you in the eye, and then walk out the door. And you will never bother anyone else again, my brother included,” Iris said.

“Oh?” Victoria quirked an eyebrow. “You mean your half-brother?”

If she was trying to throw Iris off kilter, she was not going to succeed. “Yes,” Iris defiantly replied. “My half-brother who loves me with all of his heart and who I love more than life. You won’t fight him any more; you won’t hurt him any longer.”

“Do you really think so little of me that I can’t handle this chick?” Micah suddenly demanded. He was in the corner, leaning against the junction of the walls. He glared pointedly at Victoria with his arms tenses and crossed across his chest. He was far from the immaculate ghost that Iris remembered. His hair was disheveled and his clothes torn. His body seemed unscarred though. Sadly, the same could be said for Victoria.

Iris winked at him. “I just got your back,” she said.

“And what makes you think that I’ll let you leave this house?” demanded Victoria.

“Because you can’t stop me,” Iris told her. “That old bastard has been helping me understand what I am––who I am. I know just what you can and can’t do. You are going to let us leave because you don’t want me to blast you out of existence with all of my nifty little soothesayer powers.” She smirked when she saw Victoria’s shocked expression, “That’s right bitch, I know just what I am. So you will both me and my brother leave,”

Victoria snarled. “Get out,” she threw her hand in their direction. “Go!”

Iris grabbed Micah’s arm and pulled him down the stairs. She glanced around her old home for the last time. The wreckage was obvious now. The furniture had been shattered; wood splintered all over the floor. The lamps were broken and a ceiling fan had been ripped from the socket. It lay broken on the torn couch stained with something that wasn’t blood. The spoiled food had been littered around the kitchen––not even starving animals were desperate enough for the rancid meat.

“Iris,” Micah demanded. “What are you going to do?”

Iris glanced over her shoulder as she walked out of the house. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“Whenever I died, I did,” he answered with a nonchalant shrug. “You learn a lot when you die,”

Iris let out a deep breath through her nose. “Of course you do,” she planted her feet firmly on the ground. “Stand back,” she ordered.

“Who?” Nahuel demanded. “Me or your brother?”

“You can see me?” Micah demanded, whirling around. But Nahuel did not answer him. He did not even look like he heard Micah. He just stared intently at the small girl glaring at the tiny house.

“He can’t,” Iris whispered. “He’s just heard stories,”

“I don’t think I like you sharing family secrets with him,” Micah glared distrustfully at the hybrid.

“Who else would I tell?” Iris snapped.

“I liked Seth,” quipped Micah.

“You and me both,” Iris snapped. “He didn’t feel the same way,”

Iris took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. Technically, Old Quil had taught her to be a remedial shaman, not an all powerful soothesayer. She was going to have to wing it a bit if she wanted this to work. Searching for a tiny spark in the center of her body, Iris struggled to bring the electric current that radiated inside her to her palms. It was never easy for her to call on this strange power; it never seemed to work right, but now she had no choice. She had to make it work.

And suddenly, a thick, burning fire swelled within her. Fueled by her hate of Victoria and her rage at Seth’s betrayal is grew like a wildfire, and struggled to get out of her. Without so much as an effort, it burst from her, and sparking the energy with the pocket lighter, a fire spread all around her. Smirking proudly, she softly blew. The energy burned like gas and jumped around in the air. When it settled on the house, its spindly fingers wrapped around shingles and window panes. In seconds, the entire house burned.

“Iris!” Nahuel yelled to her. “Hurry!”

He was right. She did not have time to sit back and enjoy her handiwork, she had to run. People were going to be waking up soon. They needed plenty of time to get away. If this did not alert the pack to the fact that she was gone, then nothing would. They needed ample time to put some mileage between them and La Push. Time they didn’t have.

Running back to the truck, she was screaming, “Go! Go! Go!”

Nahuel was backing out of the driveway before she had into the cab, and speeding down the road so fast that it was hard to slam the door shut. Micah watched as they drove away, glaring. Of course, he wasn’t pleased. Killjoy.


Sue Clearwater was pulling into her driveway after a long day at the gas station, and was instantly surprised to see Charlie’s cruiser sitting in the driveway already. What was more confusing was Billy Black sitting on the porch with Charlie and Seth standing beside him. All three looked grim.

When they saw her, Seth rushed to her side. Charlie hurriedly wheeled Billy down to the side of the truck. Her son barely waited for her to get the window rolled down before he was shouting at her. “Mom!”

“What’s wrong?” Sue demanded.

“It’s Quil,” Billy interrupted her son with a glare. “He’s gone into cardiac arrest,”

Sue’s eyes dropped. “Get in the car!” she ordered. “Hurry!” The three scurried to get into separate cars. Seth slammed the door to the cab and Sue thrust the truck into reverse, watching her lover help her friend into the police cruiser. “Where’s Iris?”

Seth shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably with Brady,”

“You two have suddenly drifted apart,” Sue remarked, trying to keep her racing heart down. She sped down the street, Charlie on her heels. She was just waiting for him to throw on his lights and siren. “And you’re with Germain a lot,”

“I’m trying to help her adjust to pack life is all,” Seth said stiffly.

“Being an imprint you mean?” Sue questioned as she urged her truck to go faster than was possible.

“Yeah,” her precious baby grunted. He propped his head on his hand as he rested his elbow on the side window and glared through the windshield.

Sue sighed. “You really love her, don’t you?”

Seth looked at his mother with shining, imploring eyes. “I shouldn’t,” he whispered.

“But you do,” Sue told him. “And,” she glanced around, avoiding eye contact and wrecking, “it’s okay with me,”

Seth sighed as he rubbed his face hard. “It isn’t that simple,”

“Iris knows,” Sue interrupted his pity party. “She called me a few hours ago,”

“Shit!” Seth swore, dropping his hands into his burning lap. “This can’t get any worse,”

Sue sighed. “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispered. “So sorry,”