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Angels & Devils

Seattle has been invaded by covens of Rogue Vampires - vampires who hunt and prey upon other vampires. Bella and the Cullen siblings are in Seattle for a rare night out on the town. They are attacked by Rogues, and Alice Cullen is lost in the ambush. The family fears the worse, believing that Alice is dead. Alice awakens with no memory of who she is, where she is or how she came to be there. She also has no clue that's she's fallen into the hands of an old enemy to her kind. A half-vampire who once waged a 50-year long war of vengeance against all vampires. A enemy so vicious that the Volturi had dubbed him with the name, "Lucifer", and who was long since believed to be dead himself.

This is my first Twilight Fanfic. It is currently posted in part to the FanFiction.Net site under the same pen name, and has 52 chapters up. There is still a few hundred more pages that are written and waiting to go. I decided to post this to a few fanfic sites to see what feedback I can get from the experts. This story has some violence, language, and minor adult situations (not too descriptive or vulgar - I tried to keep in mind how SM handled such things in writing.) so I guess this would need a "R" rating. Thanks.

16. Chapter 16 - Heavy Metal... Takin' A Ride

Rating 5/5   Word Count 3108   Review this Chapter

Chapter Sixteen: Heavy Metal – Takin’ A Ride

Fire it on up and let's cruise a while,
Leave your troubles far behind.
You can hedge your bet on a clean Corvette,
To get you there right on time.
Now if you're ready to dive into overdrive,
Baby the green lights are on.
It's like you're running your brain on some high
Every time she reaches fully blown

I awoke to find the other side of the bed empty.

I turned over to check the glowing LED numbers on the alarm clock, only to discover it was a quarter to six in the morning.

Immediately I wondered where Angel had gone? I paused a moment, letting my senses search the house and they found nothing out of the ordinary. The refrigerator still hummed lowly in the kitchen, the hot water pipes in the basement by the stairs still tinged and popped once in a while. And occasionally I could hear the slight ticking of water drops coming from the attic, reminding me I was going to have to go up on the roof and look at the shingles… or call the landlord to do it.

That all didn’t mean much, because I’d already knew that Angel could be more silent than a mouse in a room full of sleeping cats if she wanted to be.

There being no other way to get answers to her whereabouts, I kicked the light sheet off of me and rose to throw on a handy pair of jeans. Bare footed and shirtless, I left the bedroom to begin my curious search of the house.

The living room, dinning room, and the spare bedroom all yielded nil results. I entered the kitchen last because it was furthest from the bedrooms, and didn’t find her there either.

I scratched my head in bewilderment, wondering where she could have gotten. I almost left the kitchen but at the last moment noticed a light shining through the cracks of the partially opened doorway to the garage.

I had a quick sense of relief, as I was beginning to consider she might be in the basement, and I didn’t want her stumbling across the storeroom down there, and what it contained.

The garage wasn’t so bad, even the attached workshop was fairly innocent in what I kept there.

I padded silently to the doorway on bare feet, and now I was able to make out slight sounds of movement coming from there.

I opened the door on quiet hinges and step inside.

The garage was fairly large, it would hold two large vehicles with plenty of room to spare, which was one of the reasons I chose to rent the place.

In the far bay, normally under a heavy drop cloth, sat one of my few pride and joys that rivaled even my Zon bass. I found Angel standing before it, wearing only an old t-shirt of mine that came down to barely mid-thigh on her. She had pulled the cover off what she found there, and was standing in front of the machine in a pose that should have been provocative with the way it showed off her pale legs. However the way she ran her hands over the sleek hood, it seems she was in some sort of Holy Communion with the mechanical work of art.

“It’s beautiful,” she said without even turning to look in my direction. I’d had no doubt that she knew I was there as soon as I entered the kitchen searching for her. “What it is?” she asked, the familiar machine probably was lost to her memory.

“It’s a 1973 Corvette Stingray,” I filled in for her.

She turned to me then and smiled.

“Its great,” she told me. “Its almost like I can feel its power even just sitting here. Why don’t you drive it?” she wanted to know next.

I shrugged in answer. “I just don’t… much,” I replied.

The car was on the road and legal to drive, but the actual fact of the matter is that I came by the machine through nefarious means really.

Prior to coming into my hands, it had belonged to a fellow who made his living as a pimp running prostitutes back in the early 1970’s. This fellow made the mistake of trying to recruit the runway 16-year-old daughter of a human acquaintance of mine. I say acquaintance now, but back then I was still fooling myself that I could blend into human society, and had called this man and his family friends – even if I knew we weren’t what could be called close ones.

After tracking down my friend’s daughter – for a price of course, because this was business – I extracted her from the situation and warned the pimp in no uncertain terms to stay away from her and her family. I’d left the man relatively unharmed and returned the girl to her father and collected my bounty.

During that time, I’d occasionally made my living as a sort of fixer of people’s problems, seeing I wasn’t hunting vampires anymore… and to tell you the truth I need something to do with myself more than I needed an income. I was as relatively well off then, as I am today actually. I had time and most of the strengths of a vampire, so why not do something constructive with it?

Besides, once you got use to the adrenalin rush of living on the edge, it was hard to just quit cold turkey. Something had to take its place or you’d go stir-crazy from the boredom… and maybe from having too much time on your hands to think about all the things you’ve done.

And after 50 years of having what I believed was a worthy goal, and a reason to keep going on, I needed the distraction… desperately.

My friendly warning either didn’t take with the pimp… or perhaps it was he lacked imagination, or he was just a really stupid man. He made the mistake of tracking the daughter down and showing up at the father’s home, looking to take the girl back. He never got the girl, but he beat the father something fierce.

A phone call later, and I was back looking for the pimp. Considering he drove a brand new, fire-engine-red Corvette, he wasn’t all that hard to find. I caught up to him in a back room of a pool hall, just off the street he ran his girls from, and administered a beating that was tenfold worse than the one he had given the girl’s father.

Unfortunately for him I had forgotten just how fragile humans were. My half-vampire strength left him with a shattered lower spine, meaning he would be a paraplegic for the rest of his days. Not that I originally planned on him having many more days left.

I had in fact started out meaning to kill him in the end, mostly because he pissed me off with making me having to come back there.

And because in those days… I wasn’t really above committing a human murder if it was for a good cause. My life fighting and killing vampires had left me brutal and detached from what was left of my humanity, and with not much at all in the way of a sense of mercy.

Instead of becoming a better man right away after learning my mistake with slaying any vampire that crossed my path, I seemed to slide down hill for a short time, and became even worse because of it.

Just about as I was about to deliver the coup de grace to the prostitute runner, he begged for what was left of his life. And when I laughed maliciously at his plea and it looked like I wasn’t inclined to be merciful, he offered me the car if I would spare him.

I paused then for some reason, and figured why not?

It wasn’t so much the bribe, as I could have taken the car anyway. When I was finished, he certainly wasn’t going to have further use for it anyway.

It simply struck me, more in a sinister way, that leaving him alive as he was might actually be the crueler punishment.

He wasn’t much of a threat now to anyone, and I was sure this time I’d just taught him the meaning of fear and hell. So I let him go after he signed the car over and gave me the keys.

It was shortly after that, that I began to really reflect back and thought about what I was doing… and I realized I was not liking the person I was becoming very much. I was trading one hateful rationale for continuing to live for another, instead of trying to make myself better.

To be someone maybe I could eventually live with.

Today, I do feel a little guilty about leaving the pimp there like that, as he was calling to me as I walked away, asking for me to send him help.

At the time I just laughed, and told him his call girls would take care of him.

The look of fear in his eyes returned then, and I considered that maybe his past treatment of them would not have earned him any tender loving care from his stable.

I really wasn’t much of a nice person back then, as I said.

It wasn’t my problem in my view – he was getting what he deserved, and I drove away in a new car and never heard of the pimp again.

Over the years, I considered my actions that day were probably what really kept me from driving the Vette much.

Within a week, I had the car painted from the bright red to the glossy black it still is today. I had it tuned-up by a professional and restored to mint condition, and over the years its been stored on and off, as I still also have this odd feeling that if I were to be pulled over that it just might come back stolen. It’s a silly thought really, as its been registered under several of my assumed names and there’s never once been a problem with it coming up hot anywhere.

I guess it’s just the remains of a guilty conscious for having been so mercenary back then, that keeps me from enjoying the Vette as much as I would like to.

“It’s a shame its just sitting here all covered up,” Angel was saying, almost like she was reading my mind. “We should take it out sometime.”

“Maybe,” I said, with a smile. I could see she wanted nothing more than to be in the Vette.

She turned back to car and look longingly at it. “I don’t see why you drive that rust-heap Ford when you have this sitting here?”

It was my turned to smile big.

“Because I can’t fit all my band gear into the glove box size trunk the Corvette has. Its not very practical.”

Her eyebrows shot up, because that was something she hadn’t considered.

“Okay, you got a point there,” she agreed. Something else in the garage caught her attention, and she pointed at another covered mount sitting behind the Corvette. “What’s under there?” she wanted to know.

“Just a couple of motorcycles,” I told her.

Her eyes shot open wider.

“You got motorcycles!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, I use to ride a lot, not so much here with the weather here though,” I answered, as I came over to stand beside her.

She turned to me with vampire quickness, which meant she was a blur even to my eyes. The fact that she was forgetting herself gave me a gage to her level of excitement.

“We have to go out on those too!” she nearly squealed in delight.

Her exhilaration was contagious, and I laughed lightly, smiling a smile that maybe was the first true one I’d had in years. She was laughing with me, a bright twinkle in her gold eyes.

I reached out to place both my hands on her hips, and she let me lift her up and place her on the hood of the Corvette. When she was seated I moved in to stand between her knees and leaned in close to her.

Even in the grease and machine smell of the garage, her scent was fresh, clean, and strong, as if there were anything in the world that could cover it up!

I moved in until our foreheads almost touched, and she lightly smiled back up at me, waiting and not minding that I had her pinned between the car and myself.

“You seem to have a need for speed,” I said, picking the phrase out from some movie I had once seen years ago somewhere.

Angel grinned infectiously. “You say that like it’s a bad thing,”

“That depends on who’s driving,” I said.

Her grin grew wider. I could see in her eyes, she was picturing herself behind the wheel… and I wasn’t sure if that was a good idea or not… probably not.

“So? Can we go sometime?” she asked again. I was relieved that she hadn’t asked to drive… yet anyway.

“Anything you want,” I told her in a husky tone.

Her face grew even brighter with delight, and she gracefully tilted her lips up to mine and then slid her arms around my neck.

That kiss was the sweetest one yet.

The next three days were peacefully uneventful, and I was glad that Angel was letting the matter about the Corvette lay for the moment.

It probably helped distract her that the band had a special benefit show coming up that Wednesday night that she was looking forward to. I had been slightly worried about that particular gig, because that was one Ricky would not have been able to cover for me. Had things not gone as well with Angel as they had, we probably would have had to cancel the show.

While Donny might be a dunce in most fractions of life, he was compassionate enough to see that the band donated their time for special causes whenever asked. I guess every human has some redeeming value about him or her, though sometimes I wasn’t too sure about our lead guitarist.

This benefit was going to help one of our long-time regular fans, whose brother was fighting cancer and needed help paying medical bills. And it even made me feel good to learn that most of our following had bought tickets to the show, even if it was in the middle of the workweek.

We all arrived at the rented hall at 5:00pm to set-up for the 7:00pm show. After the stage was set, I was surprised to see Angel running around like a dervish, organizing people and table settings. Minutes later she was helping out selling drawing tickets one minute, then selling benefit t-shirts the next.

People seemed to defer to her naturally, asking for her judgment or opinions on one thing or another. When Angel manned a booth or table, most people, especially men, couldn’t seem to be able to say ‘no’ to her when she asked them to buy something.

She seemed to be everywhere at once, and I hoped that she remembered in her excitement not to slip up and move at a speed that obviously wasn’t human.

No one seemed to mark anything odd about her or be alarmed in any fashion, so I chalked up my slight nervousness at the vampire girl’s seemingly miraculous activities to the fact that I had my own tasks to do, so I couldn’t possibly watch her every single second.

It was only an illusion that it appeared to me that she was everywhere at once because I could only afford to look up every few minutes or so.

Tonight, I felt it was perfectly safe for me to play the entire gig, even if it meant I wouldn’t get a chance to sit out and slow dance with Angel, which was a downside.

During the first set, we dragged out Paramore’s ‘Decode’. I always thought it was a little on the dramatic side, even if the bass line was sort of thrashy, but the female fans seemed to love it. Including Angel, who stood before me in the crowd and sang the lyrics to me.

I was always a big Collective Soul fan, and enjoyed it a little more when we went into ‘Tremble for my Beloved’, which was a tune not a lot of bands covered.

During the second set, fans that were at last Saturday’s show, of course started chanting for Angel to come up and sit in on the vocals for Broken with us again.

She good naturally attempted to beg off, only to have Kim dash into the crowd and drag her up on stage. I smiled to myself, knowing that had Angel been serious about not wanting to come up, Kim would not have been able to move her the slightest bit of an inch.

The song went off just as perfectly as it did the first time, and I couldn’t help but feel connected to this girl on a whole new level again.

Angel was fairly happy with herself on the way home that night. And surprisingly it was more for the work she did helping out during the benefit, than for her time singing.

The benefit had cleared just a little over seven thousand dollars all together, which was a new record as far as donated shows went for the band.

I had to admit, Angel presence probably made a difference. Even the normally stingiest of fans opened their purses and wallets when Angel came around.

She smiled at me from the passenger seat of the Explorer as we drove home.

“Lets do something special,” she suddenly said.

“What do you have in mind?” I asked.

She clasped my hand tighter in her cool one. “I want to go out to dinner.”

I felt my brow crinkle in bewilderment at the odd request.

“But you don’t eat,” I put in.

“So,” she said. “I can fake it now. And I want to do something normal… like other people do for a change.”

I looked over at her. “Are you sure you want to try this?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun.”

I half-shrugged. I no longer had a fear that she’d lose control and attack anyone.

“Okay,” I told her.

“Good,” she replied with a warm smile. Then she turned back to look out the windshield, contently humming the melody to ‘Decode’ to herself I realized.