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Grim Reaper's Release

Summary:
When the gruesome murder of a pastor is mysteriously caught on tape, what will happen to the vampire race? Suddenly, the world knows about vampires. The Cullens need to get out of Forks. And fast. But what will happen when the Volturi wants to interfere? Or the Southern Armies? And, more importantly, who are these strange vampire twins? Photobucket


Notes:
...I've been away for a seriously long time, haven't I? O.O

Well, I'm back with a new story and I still haven't decided if I should continue my other stories. A lot's been happening in my life and I'm sure my feelings on all of my other stories have changed drastically. Anyway, this is just an idea that's been floating around my head for probably a year now but I've never really developed it into more than just a smidge of an idea.

Just a few warnings before I continue: This story is seriously...morbid. It's not really a good story at all. There's violence, world domination, chaos, and the world kind of goes insane...but it has a happy ending! Promise!

Also, the chapters are gonna be really long on this. Like, seriously long. It's not that I want to get this done in less chapters or whatever, it's just that in each chapter, a few different character's point of view's on different things need to be included to add other factors of the story. I mean, if I had each new point of view a chapter, we'd probably be up to 50 chapters by the time I get to the middle.

That being said, I guess a few things you should know is that I don't know when I'll be getting new chapters up. I hope, with winter break here, I'll have this story done by the middle of February, maybe? I was planning on having this only 7 chapters at the maximum, but the farther I get into this story, the longer it seems. And, I hope, I'll be getting each chapter up each week. I've already written chapter 2 and 3 but I'm gonna post them weekly.

Next, I seriously need to thank my best mate Kira with this story. She gave me a HUGE idea for it and has been such an amazing supporter of all my stories from the start!

*breathes in relief* Alright, I think that's all for now. Now that I've gotten it all out, go read. I'm sure the story is much more interesting than my babbling. *snort*


18. Striking A Deal

Rating 3.3/5   Word Count 6057   Review this Chapter

Jasper's Point of View

I wasn't quite sure how long I had been staring into the glassy eyes of my victim, but I knew it had surely been over thirty minutes. When you grew to be an immortal, time wasn't as valued as it was as a mortal. I could look at a pattern on a tile and suddenly realize I had been staring at that one insignificant linoleum tile for nearly eight hours. I could close my eyes and get so lost in the rush of emotions that even days could pass.

Right now, I wish I could do that. Instead, I felt trapped in the prisoner's gaze. His eyes were so chilled, so haunting, and I couldn't find the small amount of strength required to glance away. For some reason, the fact that I couldn't tear my gaze from his wasn't what frightened me in the least. What terrified me was the knowledge that I didn't quite know how I had gotten to staring at him in the first place.

After I discovered I was being watched, I tucked my head down and ignored all the voices; all the scientific talk about ‘behavioral patterns' and ‘psychological testing'. I had told myself that I wouldn't, for the life of me, look into his eyes. I wouldn't open my eyes to glance at that mangled body. I wouldn't even lift my head until someone came in and took the body away.

But somehow here I sat, my eyes wide in terror as I continued to study his eyes. I wondered darkly if vampires could lose their minds. Surely if there were moments I could not recall, like the decision to look into his eyes, were lost from me, something was wrong. Maybe I was going into some sort of posttraumatic stress disorder. The idea seemed logical to me. I was currently far beyond reason.

Even though a vampire's memory is flawless, my memories had all been distorted by guilt. Not breaking the eye connection, I reached up to tear at my hair. I couldn't remember my Alice's face without cringing from disgust. The stuff that filled human nightmares had drifted into my own mind. Instead of seeing her beautifully bright topaz eyes, there were gaping black holes. Her dazzling smile had been mutilated into a disappointed grimace.

I groaned loudly. I had lost it. After all these decades, all these frightful experiences, one week was all it took to steal my sanity. I could scarcely even feel any emotions emanating from anyone. There was no joy or happiness, no anger or fear, no envy or greed. Everything was so empty in my mind. Barren and deserted.

This place truly sucked the life out of things, I thought with a ghost of a smile twisting upon my face at the unintended pun. I then sighed, shaking the sadistic humor off. I had more important things to focus on other than childish puns.

I needed someone to get that body out of here. I felt like if I went to stand up, my bones would become brittle and just crumble away. It was like I was the victim of a vampire, drained of all life and vitality. Like I was just a consciousness trapped inside of a body no longer strong enough to support itself. If I couldn't extract enough energy from myself to call for someone to take that body from my sight, how was I going to survive this? I was weak, weaker than any vampire should or maybe even could be. I pondered the idea that maybe the building guilt from over the years had finally turned me into something more inhuman than any vampire had the power to be.

Once I got that putrid body out of here, I knew I, myself, had to escape somehow. I didn't care about my family anymore. I needed to somehow get up and snatch Alice from this terrible place and leave. That is, if she wanted to come with me. I would have understood if she told me to just leave her and-

"What have you got there, Fitzgerald?"

And just like that, I tore my eyes from the dead pair. My head whipped to look at the wall to my right, trying to penetrate the concrete wall with my ruby eyes and stare at who had spoken. I didn't even take a moment to dwell on the fact that just like that, so easily, the spell had been broken and I had been able to look away from the dead body before me.

The voice had been softer than most I had heard in this place. Soft, but not in a good way. It reminded me of Edward's when he was infuriated. His voice got so deathly quiet and polite but there was always an almost mute outrage hidden beneath it.

A grunt followed, harsh and rough. I cocked my head to the side, wondering just what they were discussing. Up until now, they had bored me with their conversation of morals and my ‘lack of humanity' while somehow merging the topics that followed with science. Now, though, something was beginning to catch my interest.

"Nothing of interest to you, Mr. President. It was just something that belonged to that dead man in there." I cringed. Something that belonged to that dead man in there. The man I had killed. The realization rolled over me again like a tsunami wave. The only reason he was dead was because of my existence. If not for me, he would be camped out in some lonesome jail cell but at least some day, some luminous day in his future, he would have been finally freed.

There was a slight chuckle from who I now knew was the President. I slowly shut my eyes, my hands clenching into fists. I should have known that the President would be involved with this somehow. For some unexplainable reason, I almost felt even more ashamed now that I knew that it hadn't just been some measly scientists who I had killed in front of.

"Oh, Timothy, I highly doubt that a golden locket belonged to him. Come now, tell me the truth." I curled back my teeth at the hostile undercurrent to his tone and was immediately grateful that none of their eyes were on me. Within the walls was a pause as, I presumed, the surrounding agents and scientists watched with curiosity to see if Timothy obeyed the President or told him off. I felt my eyes narrow as I listened closely.

Timothy emitted a resigned sigh, a sort of surrender, and swallowed noisily. "If you must know," he barked out in impatience, "he asked me to give it to her daughter. She's some sort of orphan and it belongs to her." My eyebrows lifted in quite unnoticed shock. He had a daughter. I softly moaned in distress. He was a father who could have taken care of his child but I had taken his life. I bit my lip roughly in pain as I realized how much damage I had done.

"I see," the President murmured. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" There was a sort of mocking tone to his voice but I ignored it. My mind was suddenly in overdrive.

And for the first time in a long, long time, I felt like I had a very firm grasp on reality. A tight smile came over my lips as a plan started forming in my head.

I felt sane.

***

Brody's Point of View

I dropped the test tube I had been clutching in my hands and rushed forward. How had she escaped?! The steel door was almost too heavy for me. There was no way a little girl could possibly push it open at her command.

I grabbed her up in my arms, ignoring her thrashing and yelps. "Shh," I whispered, looking around the lab in haste. If someone saw that she was out, it would mean huge trouble for both of us. Her little fists were in the air, desperately trying to claw herself away from me. I winced as her foot connected with my torso. God, how strong was she?

I carried her toward the counter, cautiously setting her down. I kept my arms as barriers around her small form. I didn't yet trust her enough to know she would keep still if I let her go.

Her hair was a mess around her little face; uncombed and knotting in places. I frowned at her overall appearance, stubby fingertips all bruised and scratched, bloodshot eyes that were currently swimming with tears, and trembling lips. I sighed, pushing the unruly hair back away from her face. What had Doc done to her?

"Renesmee," I began, softly. She looked so frail and fragile. I felt like if I even raised my voice an inch, she would start sobbing. Her eyes widened at my tone and she looked up, tears finally falling from the crevices of her eyes. "Renesmee," I repeated, almost a sigh on my lips. "What are you doing? You know if Dr. Mitchells saw you, you'd probably be locked up somewhere else by now with a lot more security than just one distracted scientist." I shook my head in almost disgust for myself. How had I not noticed she had gotten out?

She whimpered quietly as she drew her knees up to her chest and set her sweet face atop her kneecaps. I stood there in inner turmoil. What should I do now? I tapped my foot on the linoleum; I had a bit experience with kids since I was always around my sister's children but this one was different. Unique.

When it became obvious that she wasn't going to reply, I sighed in exasperation. I acted hesitantly as I lifted my hand and bent forward to pick up both of hers. "Here, let me see the damage you did when you tried to get out. Maybe I can find some band aids in this place or something-"

There was nothing. I blinked, I was sure that just a moment ago her hands had all been bruised and blistered. Not even a blemish stained her perfect skin now. "Huh," I said quietly. "Well, never mind that ideam then. You want to tell me what you were doing by trying to get out of there?"

Her eyes lifted at my question and she stared at me, her huge brown eyes dead. A tiny moan escaped her lips as she surrendered.

"I was trying to get out," she whispered, her eyes falling. I crossed my arms and ignored the overwhelming urge to roll my eyes. Well, that was obvious, I felt like saying. Something told me she wouldn't be trying anything new so I leaned back against the parallel counter.

I raked my fingers through my hair and kept my hand on my temples. This whole week was doomed to end with a horrible migraine.

"No, Nessie," I mumbled. "I know that. Why? Why were you trying to get out? Where were you going?" I repeated the question with more specifics. Up until now, she had seemed like a pretty smart kid. Now, though, I wasn't quite sure.

She huffed adorably and then wrapped her arms around the back of her head, her hands clasping behind. "I don't like it here. They need me. I need to get to them. Don't you understand?" Her eyes widened even further than I thought possible and the tears started falling again. "You must have family, Brody, you have to understand!"

I blinked and then switched into Uncle Brody mode. I wrapped my around her tiny body and drew her closer. "Nessie, I'm sure everything's ok down there. Nothing bad is happening-"

"You're lying," she viciously spat out. "I heard you and Dr. Mitchells. Uncle Jazz killed someone and it's all your fault." She sniffled against my chest and I patted her back. I was silent for a moment, stunned by her name for Jasper Hale. ‘Uncle Jazz'. I muffled my groan; this was so wrong, I suddenly realized. This whole operation in this whole building. These vampires were vampires, that much was obvious, but they were just like any other family, just a bit altered. Sure, they were immortal, inhuman, and a bit creepy, but they loved each other the same.

And it was incredibly disgustingly wrong to keep this five month year old girl from her parents.

I dodged her comments and settled for cradling her against me. "Nessie, who's ‘them'? You said you needed to get to them. Is that your family?" I was pretty sure that was who she had been speaking of, but I wanted to make sure we were on the same page.

"Well, obviously," she retorted, but then her tone softened. "Do you know what it's like to lose all of your family? I simply couldn't bare it any longer." I nodded, listening to her words. To go through what she was doing at such a young age would be mind numbingly terrifying.

"Ok," I heaved a sigh. "Ok, tell me where you want to go and I'll give you the green light." She gasped, her head lifting from off my arm to peer at me. I shook off the doubt of my actions and tried to persuade myself that this was the right way to go. The moral way.

She bit her lip. "You're not lying to me, are you?"

I shook my head. "Of course not," I vowed, tightening my hold on her. She nodded thoughtfully.

"Daddy," she answered confidently. I gulped, looking around the room in search of any security cameras. Satisfied that there was none, I looked back at her.

"Your wish is my command," I murmured dryly as I picked her up to place her on the ground. She squealed happily and clapped her hands. I grinned at her apparent excitement as I turned away. I had a plan for how to get her out of here, but it wouldn't work without a sharp object.

"What are you looking for?" She asked from behind me, her tone curious. I pursed my lips, opening a drawer and then slamming it shut.

"A knife," I said shortly.

She gasped. "A knife? Why? Brody, when am I going?" I ignored her and started going through the cabinets. There had to be something sharp in here somewhere. There just had to be.

"Look, Nessie, we're going to have to put up an...act. Know what I mean? Kind of like a play," I started babbling distractedly as I searched. "See, if you get out and I pretend like I didn't see anything, there's going to be a lot of trouble to follow." I shuddered briefly at the thought of it. "So, instead, we're going to pretend that you got out, I tried to get you back, but you injured me, which gave you time to escape. Understand?"

I grinned as I slammed open another drawer to fine a large butcher knife. Finally.

I turned to face Nessie and she stood there in obvious confusion. "But I would never hurt you," she whispered, and then her face lit up. "You're my friend." I paused, my eyes widening. I took a second to marvel at how adorable she was but then went back to business.

I crouched down so we were eye level and patted her head. "I know that, Nessie, but they don't. What are you going to do once you get out of here?"

She turned her head to the side, calculating something. "I'll go out, to the right, down the steps, until I find my Daddy's floor. Then...well," she suddenly blushed, looking down. "Well, I was hoping he would have a plan from then on."

"Why do you think that? Have you talked to him recently? Do you even know what floor he's on?" It didn't make sense that she would trust him to get her out of here when he didn't even know she would be there soon.

She shook her head quickly, her curls bouncing around her face. "No, I have not but trust me. He knows." She sounded so sure of herself that I couldn't deny that maybe he did somehow know. She then blushed, a rosy shade creeping up her face. She looked at me through her eyelashes and whispered, "Would you tell me what floors he's on?"

I grinned at her hesitance and nodded. "Now, your dad is Edward, right?" She nodded eagerly. "He's on floor 13, but remember, Nessie, that's downstairs. We're on floor 25, the top floor."

Her eyes closed briefly and then her face cleared of all confusion. "I'll be able to find it easily."

"Alright, sounds good enough to me." I straightened up and walked to the exiting door. The doorknob was unlocked, which was fortunate. I wouldn't have to create any evidence of her bashing the knob in then.

"Can I go now?" She begged hesitantly behind me. I bit my lip as I turned back around.

"Yeah," I breathed. "Go, quickly." I turned away quickly, rolling my sleeve up and bringing the point of the huge knife to my exposed flesh. If I had some sort of proof that I had put up a fight to restrain Nessie within the lab, maybe I would be allowed to keep my job in the end. My stomach churned at the thought of injuring myself. Oh why, why, had I ever become a scientist? Scientists shouldn't have phobias of blood and needles. I took a calming breath and, with closed eyes, drove the knife into my arm.

I gasped in surprise of the sharp jolting pain that shot up my arm. I looked down at the gash and the blood that was leaking from it. My breath came out as jagged puffs and I squeezed my eyes shut as I dragged the knife down my arm.

"Brody? Are you alright?" My eyes snapped open at the sound of the gentle voice behind me. I thought she had left already.

"Renesmee, go," I croaked over my shoulder as a drop of perspiration dribbled down my forehead. I hastily wiped it away.

She stumbled closer and I turned, shielding her eyes from my gushing arm. Damn, I thought, I hadn't known it would bleed this much. I could already feel the blood pulsing in my ears and my vision got misty as nausea crept up.

"But...Brody, are you alright? Grandpa Carlisle is a doctor. He could...he could help you." I clenched my jaw at her soothing words.

"Renesmee," I snapped harshly, "just go." She was silent and I busied myself with gathering paper towels as I yanked on the faucet with my good arm. The cool water rushed over my injury and I sighed as the pain started to recede.

I glanced over my shoulder to see what she was doing but she was gone.

***

Rosalie's Point of View

"Edward?" I hissed, "Are you positive they're testing me next?" I anxiously tapped my stiletto heel on the floor as I waited with one hand on my hip and the other up to my face so I could inspect my flawless nails. There was nothing but silence below me and I let out a deep breath; with Jasper all silent and in ‘reflection mode', it left me with no other company than Edward who was now slipping into the same response as Jasper was.

Men. I swear, sometimes they were moodier than women.

Finally, something shifted. "Yes, Rosalie, they're coming down to your room as we speak." Edward's voice was stressed with barely contained patience and I nodded thoughtfully. It was honestly no shock that Jasper hadn't ‘passed the test' or whatever they were calling it. I felt for my detached brother, I really did, it was just that I was taken by surprised by his anguished response to his actions.

He had gone through the notions of killing hundreds of times and was fine. In fact, there was a time in his horrid existence where he enjoyed it. So what made this so different? I leaned against the concrete wall as I thought it over. Was it the fact that now someone had actually witnessed the act that made it more monstrous in his eyes? Or was it the fact that the whole family had to listen in as he committed murder?

Voices drifted down the hallway outside my cell and I tensed. If these wretched scientists caused me to take my first sip of human blood, I was going to be seriously outraged. Next to Carlisle, I had the cleanest record. I wasn't bound to give it up for some sort of experiment.

"Alright, get over here. Roll up your sleeve." I listened curiously to the increasingly obnoxious voice of Timothy Fitzgerald. To the left of me was more voices and their heartbeats resounded through the walls and to my ears. I rolled my eyes, so they wanted a show, did they? Or maybe all these male scientists just wanted a second look at me. I mentally shrugged; it made no difference to me.

Outside the steel door, I could smell the blood. There was rushed steps as Timothy scurried off and into the observation room and I patiently waited. The second the steel door opened even a millimeter, I stopped my breathing and narrowed my eyes.

I would take every single precaution possible to not kill whatever human being was about to walk through that door. I could tell I was starting to get stressed out from all of this and in an effort to not only lighten things up but to also distract myself from the scent of the blood coming towards me, I decided to strike up a mental conversation with Edward.

Hmm, I bet Jazz and Em are betting on if I resist or not. Which way is Em betting on? If he says I can't do it, I'm not speaking to him for a month.

No verbal response came from Edward and I mentally cursed him. With a quick roll of my eyes at his stubbornness, I turned my attention to the door and blinked. I hadn't realized my designated prisoner had arrived.

He stood there in his repulsing orange jump suit with his sleeves rolled up, exposing not only the deep gash in his arm which was leaking blood but also the tattoos lining his limbs. Skulls and gothic designs laced their way beside his flexing tendons and I smirked.

His eyes were wide with fright and he stared at me in panic. Did he seriously think I was going to kill him? Oh, please. Now that I had my oxygen supply cut off and my attention wasn't on the dripping blood, I found it pleasantly easy to not pounce on him. Sure, the venom was pooling in my throat, my lungs were burning from yearning for the bloody fumes, and my stomach was growling with desire, but my heart just wasn't that into it.

He coughed in nervousness and I pushed myself off the wall. "So, eh, you gonna kill me or what?" He wiggled his eyebrows and I blinked slowly. I could see that he was testing the water; trying to decide whether I was simply waiting for him to make the wrong move or if he really was safe to be in my presence.

I shook my head slowly, a sneer appearing on my lips. He stood there and his eyebrows furrowed in thought. I watched in boredom as I crossed my arms against my chest. Alright, if I wasn't going to kill him, were they ever going to come back and retrieve their little lab rat or just let him bleed to death?

His eyes cleared and something else covered his features, something I had almost expected. Lust. "If you ain't gonna kill me, watchya gonna do with me?" He winked suggestively and I gave an exaggerated eye roll.

I took a fraction of a second to decide whether I could trust myself to open my mouth or not. Well, so far so good. "Not sleep with you, that's for sure," I retorted smugly. His eyebrows arched in surprised and then he flushed in anger.

"Ouch," he feigned rejection and pouted. "My ego's wounded." He took a few steps further and I watched him with narrowed eyes.

I chuckled softly. "That won't be the only thing that's wounded if you come any closer." His eyes widened and my leer grew in response. Above me, Edward sighed in exasperation at my actions.

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" He took another step closer and I rolled my eyes. Human men were so stupidly dense.

I flicked my gaze from him to the left through the concrete wall to try to see the scientists who I knew were watching. All was silent from within the walls and I gave a tortured sigh. I tossed my hair over my shoulder and went back to studying my nails.

"Gentlemen," I called out to the scientists. "You can come and fetch your little prisoner now. I have no need for him." I waited patiently for the door to open and for some big officer in a bulletproof uniform and a bulky machine gun to come in and take the nuisance away.

The prisoner stared at me with curious eyes and I smiled flirtatiously at him when, as I predicted, the door opened slightly and an officer came in, his gun pointed at me, to take him out of the cell.

When it closed, I allowed myself one smug smile.

I had passed.

***

Edward's Point of View

Only Bella's child would decide to escape from a lockdown. Only Bella's child would decide they needed to help, even if helping put their life in danger. Only Bella's child would, once given the chance of freedom, lag behind to make sure their captor was alright.

I sighed, sometimes it was so painfully obvious that Renesmee was most certainly Bella's child.

My clenched fists tightened as above me, Rosalie teased the prisoner. I rolled my eyes in response to her tactics. Moments ago she had pestered me with questions and what she called ‘mental conversation'. I hadn't replied because quite honestly, I really didn't have the patience or the time.

My eyes were strained on the tiny little window in the door to my cell as I watched. In Nessie's mind, I could see she was taking her time being cautious as she climbed down the hidden stairwell. At each landing, she would take a moment to listen closely and make sure no one was coming. I let a grin cover my face as, finally, my daughter was beginning to learn how to be cautious.

Put aside the risk factor and I was exceedingly proud of Nessie's escape. I hadn't even thought of the idea that Nessie contained the strength to break free. The notion that in just a few short moments I would be able to hold her closely to me almost thawed out my frozen heart.

I wasn't positive at what I would do once she got to my floor. Thanks to Brody Averton in the laboratory, she at least knew which level I was on. I frowned as I thought of what would happen to him for helping my daughter. He didn't realize it at the moment, but indeed a security camera had caught his act and at this moment, Timothy Fitzgerald was pondering over the punishment he had decided on. It seemed unfair that for doing something just, he would have to go through so much. I heaved a sigh; maybe I could somehow save him before it was too late.

Edward? It's Jacob. Look, Nessie was just here...and uh...oh. You probably already know this. Never mind! I just kind of wanted to let you know...because...well, I mean, she is your daughter and all that. Anyway, I heard her outside going down the steps.

I exhaled at Jacob's thoughts. I hadn't heard of him much since he had awoken from the sedatives. Now, he was content to be in human form and practically had the agents in his room on their hands and feet, giving him whatever he wanted. If we hadn't of been in this situation, I most likely would have laughed at the royal status they seemed to give him down there. Obviously, it was their fear of him that drove them to do whatever he asked.

I struggled to block out all of the other thoughts in this place and pinpoint on Renesmee's but it proved to be difficult. There had to be at least one hundred and fifty different minds in here and with the shouting thoughts of the criminals above me, my mind was packed to the brim with thoughts.

At the end of the hallway, I heard the door leading to the stairwell open tentatively. If only I could get past those officers, she thought, her voice harmonious and sweet. I pursed my lips as I stood from the cot and moved closer to the door, my eyes closing in on the agents outside.

It would be devastatingly simple to break open the door. If I tried, I could maybe get down there, swipe her up, and get back so fast that the agents would never notice I had left. One moment I would be standing in here, the door swinging open, and the next my daughter would be in my arms.

I breathed against the glass as I looked down the hall, towards a large door that would have been almost invisible to the human eye because of how easily it blended in. To my eyes, however, it stuck out like a sore thumb. It was cracked open and I could see four little fingertips grasping onto the edge of it.

I bit my lip in uncertainty. How would I get to her? I looked down at the door knob and twisted my hand around it. With just a sharp yank, I could break it open.

My eyes glanced back at the pane of glass and I saw the toe of her show stick out along with her fingers. Come on, I mentally urged her, just come out.

My hand grasped onto the handle with my eyes still trained on the door's hesitant opening. When she pushed it open even farther, I tugged on the handle and felt it bend under my palm. It crunched slightly and I gave it a swift pull to release it from the door. I moved my hand back to my side, the handle in my grasp, and deftly threw it over my shoulder so it hit the cot soundlessly.

I had done all of this without even moving my eyes from the door. Now, she had it opened so it was larger than just a tiny crevice and was struggling to wiggle through the widening area. I placed my open palm on the steel door. Without the handle, it should just swing open easily.

Where is he?, she wondered, I was so sure this was the thirteenth floor. I bit my lip in distress as she started to panic.

Finally, I nudged the steel door slightly with my foot and it swung open. Before any agents could even turn their heads at the creaking sound that echoed from the ungreased hinges, I had slipped outside and was running so fast, I was invisible to them.

"Hey! Where'd he go!?" Someone shouted behind me.

"Look! The handle's picked right off!"

I ignored the gasps and shocked exclamations. All I could see was Renesmee, standing at the end of the hallway with wide eyes and her mouth parted in quiet awe. Someone behind me shot off their gun and I quickened my pace. Before the bullet had even passed me, I was at the end of the hall.

I bent down to snatch Renesmee in my arms and though I knew no bullet could cause my daughter harm, I felt the protective need to shield her from the gunshots and the piercing bullets. I tucked her against my chest and set my head on top of hers. She felt so delicate in my arms and I savored the rush of heat that stemmed from her flushed skin.

I paid no heed to the shouts of the angry officers who ran towards us and crowded around my daughter and I. All I cared about was the fact that she was finally safe in my arms. Her slender arms wound their way around my neck and she nestled her head along the crook of my neck. I wrinkled my nose slightly at the strong stench of chemicals and anesthetic that drenched her completely.

"Give the child up, sir, and no harm will come to you," someone threatened as a point of a gun was prodded into my back. I whirled, clutching Renesmee to me tightly. I shouldn't have let her go in the first place, I solemnly realized. I should have kept her with me from the beginning. I wasn't going to give her up now.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw someone reach for her and I snapped. The building snarl in my throat simmered from my lips and I bared my teeth at the hostile hand that had grasped for Nessie.

The officers as a whole quickly took a step back and I allowed myself an instant of satisfaction. "Get away from her," I growled. "Touch her and you'll lose your hands."

Fright took over the mob of officers and they all adjusted their guns. One in particular stepped forward, one I had recognized as Richardson who helped me get all the messages to Jacob. He gulped and a vein swelled in his forehead from anger. This bastard's got some serious nerve, he thought. But I'll put him in his place in a jiffy.

I quickly rolled my eyes.

"Alright, Edward, alright. We won't touch her, promise. You have to let her go, though." In his mind, I saw how he was going to try to play the good cop bad cop game. He wanted to start out seeming considerate and kind and then become, as he described it, my ‘worst nightmare'.

I shook my head, if I was going to keep Renesmee with me, I needed to strike a deal. My mind drifted back to the broken handle of the door and I grinned as an idea came to mind.

"I'll make you a deal, Richardson," I began mellifluously, exactly how Jasper had described my tone when he had heard the President's tone. "Allow me to keep her without complaint and we'll both stay in the cell. You won't even have to worry about the broken door. You have my word that we won't leave."

Richardson's eyes narrowed at the negotiation presented to him and I listened in to his thoughts. Sounds...good to me. I doubt boss'll like it, though.

Renesmee lifted her head subtly to peek at Richardson with wide eyes. I reflexively lifted my hand to cradle her head, not even noticing I was doing so until I realized all the guns were pointed at me once again.

"And what if we take her away?" He inquired, arching a brow. I chuckled quietly but felt my heart ache as Renesmee tensed in nervousness. Did she actually think I would allow these men to take her away from me once again?

Her eyes flitted up to watch my reaction and I smiled menacingly at the men. "Oh, trust me, you're not taking her away from me again. It's either you let us go quietly or you make this whole experience unpleasant. It's up to you." A few of the officers fretfully twitched in response to my words.

Richardson bit his lip and then shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Fine," he barked out. "Take her and get back to the cell. If there's any funny business, though, from either of you-"

"There won't be, I promise," I snapped coldly. He stared at the two of us for a short moment and then replied with one tense nod before someone's gun connected with my back and forced me to take a step. I threw a bitter glare over my shoulder at whoever had jabbed me and then continued down the hall, Renesmee still clutching onto me tightly.

It wasn't until I had stepped into the threshold of the cell and the officers had slammed the door shut after placing a cot from another cell in front of my door so we couldn't escape did Renesmee give one little shudder and then start sobbing. I cradled her against my chest and tucked her head underneath my chin.

"Shh," I whispered in vain attempt to quiet her cries. "It's alright, Renesmee. I've got you and I'm not letting go."