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Immovable Object

Summary:
When a super-powered serial killer's little brother disappears in Seattle, she sets out to bring him back by any means necessary. Set in Eclipse. Canon through Twilight, New Moon, and beginning of Eclipse. Canon pairings. Alternate Universe. Original Character. Rating for violence and language.


Notes:
Fanfiction.net URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8518212/1/Immovable-Object


4. Spoon Man

Rating 0/5   Word Count 1636   Review this Chapter

-Chapter 4: Spoon Man-

I woke up early the next day and made a few stops before heading out to the Quileute Reservation. The first was of course the book store – though I didn't buy the book. One of the several abilities I had acquired was photographic memory; a quick skim through the text and I was good to go. It turned out the information in the book was good – it detailed the red eyes and thirst for blood, but only mentioned that the Quileute Spirit Warriors had the power to kill them. Looks like more info was needed after all. The next stop was a little more risky. I needed a car, but I couldn't have anyone I stole it from reporting it. Killing someone and stealing a car would be even worse, so I settled for an ATM. I left the scraps behind a dumpster a couple blocks away – thank goodness there was minimal traffic this early in the morning – and took out a respectable $16,000 in cash. I decided skip buying a car in a car lot in the city and instead flew north to Sequim.

I bought a severely used tan Honda from a teenager for $6,500 and drove the piece of shit to a Hardees chain for breakfast. The car wasn't disgusting or anything, it was clean on the inside; but the outside had several dings and scratches, along with a healthy sprinkling of rust along the bottom of the sides and what felt like transmission problems. If I hadn't been in a hurry I probably would have complained. As I was finishing my biscuits and gravy, I took out my phone and turned on tethering and opened up my laptop. I pulled up a list of directions to get to the reservation and mentally cataloged it before shutting the lid and dumping my trash.

The ride there was plenty long. Long enough for me to break myself out of my self-imposed denial. My brother was most likely dead. Either that, or a…a vampire. There really was no other option. In my long life I've never met anyone that could best me in a fight, but Ryan always gave me a run for my money. He's taken on his fair share of thugs and meatheads on our travels – hell, he's even killed before; though he hates to be reminded of it. Entertaining the idea that my only friend was dead…I had to hope for the alternative. I don't care how much of a monster Ryan might be, or how many innocent he may have killed already. All I need is for him to be alive – so to speak – and the rest can go fuck themselves.

I arrived at La Push Beach and parked in the too-small parking lot. I shut off the engine and eyed the beach through the car's windshield, pondering as to exactly how I was going to squeeze these natives for information. I didn't exactly look like a native – my skin was too fair for that – and although that may have played in my favor for some situations, Native Americans aren't known for giving out tribe secrets to outsiders. They're very exclusive.

"What then?" I sighed out loud and sank back into my seat. "Beat it out of them?" The Tribal Legends book was good, but I could tell it was little more than sweeping generalizations. Which was normally fine, since the mystery and fanaticism of the stories were more for documenting the tribe's history and bringing in tourists – rather than a how-to guide to slaying vampires.

My ability pool wasn't of much use here for reconnaissance, either. Telekinesis and my shield for offense and defense, Synesthesia and my photographic memory were of no use here, and my 'lie detector' was only useful if I were to forgo all tact and simply play twenty questions with the tribal leaders. Hmm… Actually, fuck it; tact has never been my strong suit. Maybe if I had some sort of camouflaging ability or mind reading I could go incognito, but I am in need of some tension release. The book gave me the impression the Quileute hate vampires, so telling them the truth will either A: cause them to laugh at me for believing in crazy legends, B: make them shut up tight about it – in which case I can indulge myself – or C: tell me more about our common enemy. Of course there was also the chance that they actually did know nothing. But I would be able to tell if that were the case.

Pleased with my plan of attack, I checked to make sure my knife was on me, got out of my car and pulled on my jacket. There were a few people on the beach, so I shuffled down the hill toward the disturbingly grey and miserable-looking beach. There were a couple, a teenage boy and girl, looking out at the turbulent grey waters – but they were 'pale faces' as the Quileute called Caucasians. Further down and away from the water's edge, sat on a log around what used to be a campfire, was a brown-skinned boy with his back to me. I made my way over to him, zipping up my jacket because of the chilled air.

"Hey there!" I said in a loud speaking voice. The boy turned to me with a questioning expression, which took a nose dive into confused.

"Umm…hi?" the boy questioned. He had black hair and a slightly widened face – much like every native around here – with a blue t-shirt and cargo shorts on. His attire looked a little lacking for the temperature outside. I'd guess him to be about sixteen or seventeen, but he had a certain innocence about him.

"My name's Emily," I started, moving closer. He stood up and grasped my extended hand in a handshake. He was running a temperature. A very high temperature – above one-oh-five, I'd guess. He should be hospitalized at that temperature, if not dead. Interesting.

"Seth," he said with a wide grin, "at your service! Haven't seen you around before, are you visiting family in Forks or something?"

"That's because I haven't been around here before – and no, no family in Forks that I know of." I replied, cocking an eyebrow but returning a small smile, sitting down on one end of the log Seth was sitting on. "You're a native…I mean you live on the reservation, right?"

"Yup!" Seth replied, sitting down on the other end of the log. I could tell he was one of those perpetually happy people.

"I need to talk with your tribal council," I said, tilting my head to the side, "or your chief…I need to speak with whoever's in charge around here."

"'bout what?" Seth asked, looking at me with suspicion mixed with confusion.

I was about to tell him I couldn't really talk to anyone but the council, when Seth's head snapped to the left. Standing at the tree line was a shirtless Quileute with frayed jean-shorts on eyeing me. He was taller and older than Seth, and had an angry expression on his face. He turned his gaze to Seth and motioned with his head to follow.

"Uh, got to go, Emily," Seth said as he stood up and jogged toward the man. They started conversing back and forth, the angry man sparing me a glance every now and then. I turned my head to the burned out fire and propped my head in my hand as I waited to see what would happen next.

I didn't have to wait long. Suddenly both Seth and the other man were strolling toward me. The man extended his hand, which was also scorching hot with a temperature. I started to think back to the tribe legend book to see if there was anything in there about the natives running hazardous temperatures.

"Sam," the man introduced himself, releasing my hand and crossing his arms over his broad chest. "What's your last name, Emily?"

"Ambrose," I replied truthfully, shooting Seth a questioning glance. "I need to talk to your tribal leaders or tribal council or whoever or whatever is in charge around here."

Sam narrowed his eyes at me and locked his jaw. "Why? For what purpose?"

It was at that precise moment my mental query came back with an arguably ridiculous theory as to why both of these boy's skin was so hot. The Quileute legends don't specifically say – in fact they're incredibly vague – but there were a few passages about them coming from wolves. I knew wolves were highly revered in this tribe, but to accuse them of being…werewolves? It seemed a little farfetched – except I had just learned vampires existed. And then there's the fact they should be shivering on their beds in a hospital somewhere with how much heat they were putting off. How to play this? A snide comment on his behavior would be appropriate. I'd just add in a wolf or dog reference and see how they react.

"Woah, man," I started, pulling up my eyebrows and placing a surprised expression on my face. "Get back on your leash; I just need some information on some of your tribe's legends."

His eyes flashed and his expression turned cold – it was subtle, but it was there. Huh, I was right; who would have guessed both werewolves and vampires existed. And to think I said I had no tact. Well, at least now I can forget about seeing the council and go directly to the other mythical creature standing before me. I put on a small smirk took a step back.

"I'm looking for anything you can tell me about vampires."