I'm nothing but a monster fed with flaming fury and running with bloody hands. There's no hope left until one harmless glance chances logic and binds two enemies together in a twist of fate. Can the escape from this hell be found in an irresistible dimpled grin? Or is this another dark, dirty trick of my own mind? A forbidden passion, heat and intense anger—this is no fairytale.
Disclaimer: Monster is an originally plotted fic. The ideas within this fic are not to be copied in any manner unless I have given my consent. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property of their respective owners. The canon characters and plots from the Twilight Saga are the property of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. Similarities are for the sole use of fan fiction, and no money is benefited from this fic. Emerging Swan Award 2012, nominated into Fandom Choice Awards.
9. Unexpected Company
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I find myself out in the dead of night once more. I am alone with only the dark, enclosing shadows of the trees and the song of the wind to accompany me. My scattered thoughts flow smoothly now. There isn't anything for them to interfere with anyway. My mind is only focused on one thing: him.
Sam has informed the pack that patrols will not be needed tonight, specifically due to the lack of vampire appearances. It's a stupid move, considering we are supposed to be hunting down the redheaded leech right now. Still, I am able to finally take advantage of being alone. He thinks I'm out on a walk. It's not a lie; I actually am walking through the forest. Sam never will never leave me alone if he knows what I'm about to do.
Things are better that way.
I lean my weight forward, hovering over the edge of the black water. For just a second, I raise a paw as if to cross. My blurry reflection shines back; the dark blue gaze of the white wolf is troubled. I shake my head violently and huff before pulling myself back to the Quileute side.
This decision isn't rash. I have had many silent hours to debate what I am about to do. Now, I need to find him. The Cullen. As strange as those words sound while they hummed aimlessly into my ears, I know they are true. I know because even one day after seeing him, after the insane moment when his gaze pulled me out of the reality of my world, I have been driven nuts in his absence.
Flames burn behind my eyes with a blistering heat so intense, not even the heavy rains can wash it away. I am numb, my reflexes controlling themselves and my mind rushing forward at hundreds of miles per hour. Empty as I am, my chest still carries the same ache that weighs me down. I am falling apart. I am split into pieces, like a puzzle.
A puzzle can't put itself back together on its own.
Suddenly, my decision is final. I lunge forward, my body whistling through the air and across the river before I land silently on the other side. I blast through the forest, inhaling the unfamiliar scents of this side of the border. Foreign scents and sights whirl through my brain, but I am only focused on one thing. Him.
My life is about to change, for better or for worse. I can feel the chill in my body, my instincts and brain working to try to make sense of it all. I know that I have to do something before I am too far gone, lost in the insanity of my human mind. There is a chance this all might be one of life's jokes. He is the enemy, after all.
But, he's all there is. And I think I'm ready to take my chances.
This time, I'm not on the couch. Not that I have anything against it, I've had some really good times on that thing.
I toss a baseball absentmindedly, my hand darting up to snatch the tiny object in mid-air without even having to look. The family is out hunting again, leaving me behind with Rose. It's supposed to be quality time, or something like that.
The forest is still and hushed. I pace near the window, my gaze focused outside. Sheets of rain wash the forest clean. Breeze whistles through the leaves, the sound drowned out by the howl of thrashing winds. A normal person can't see anything unusual about the average Washington weather, but I know something is coming. I can sense it.
Rosalie sighs from the couch. "Nobody is out there, Emmett. Carlisle is leading them all the way into the mountain ranges." There's a crinkling sound as Rosalie turns a page in her magazine. "Our family must feed in case poor Bella needs more protection."
I take another step forward, a smirk rising on my lips. "You can't blame him. He has to be careful, especially with a human who is so intent on getting it on with him. If Edward keeps her waiting much longer, she might go wacko. We need to be ready to defend ourselves as well."
She doesn't find this to be very humorous. Rosalie's stare burns into the back of my head. "Come away from that window."
My brow furrows slightly, but I still wear my signature smirk. "I'll leave if nobody shows up in the next . . . ten seconds."
Rosalie sighs again and slaps her magazine down on the end table. She tosses her hair back and raises one eyebrow. I don't have to see her expression to know she is glaring. I flash a grin and return my attention to the raging storm.
Three and a half…
Suddenly, out of nowhere, there is a sound. Right on the door, a bold slam, as if someone is knocking on the door. I cast a grin at Rosalie, not holding back a chuckle.
Lesson learned: always trust the hot guy.
Rosalie is on her feet in a minute, spitting out words too quickly for even a vampire to understand. Knowing that Rosalie is only going to cause trouble, I step in front of her to block her path and open the door, knowing who is here before the wind can even carry her scent inside. Behind me, Rosalie growls menacingly, obviously thinking one of two things: One, the visitor is a threat. Or two, the visitor is a problem and only complete hostility will solve everything.
I think she is leaning toward number two, but I can't be too sure because in this moment, everything else fades away.
The shock and irony is too much for me to even think straight. This is a perfect opportunity for a joke, but my thoughts are elsewhere as my eyes catch the figure of our visitor.
If it is possible, I think I might have drooled a little.
I'm hit by the smell first, but it's sort of attractive in a completely odd way, of course. Her legs move carefully, one in front of the other. Rain slides over her skin, catching in her clothes and causing them to cling to her form. Her body is clear and in focus, every line and curve in full view. I allow my gaze to travel upward slowly, taking everything in.
As I study her, I can see the wolf within clearly. I remember everything about that day, all of it rushing back to me. I remember how she was standing, I remember her fur being ruffled from running in the wind, and her eyes, dark blue, staring at me with something more than just curiosity. I remember who she was standing with, who she was standing next to, and how she moved lightly, despite her size. I can still feel the touch of heat to her body, and how she was so alive. Every microscopic detail is ingrained in my mind. She is fascinating. And here she is, in her human skin, her breath warming the air around us and her heart beating strongly.
I stand there for a minute until I meet her eyes. The intensity and familiarity of her silent, dark stare sends a shock through my body. I pause for a moment, my mind scrambling to catch up.
The wolf woman needs no invitation. She steps inside, taking her time. Her eyes never leave mine. I close the door slowly before smirking and stepping back, my arms folding across my chest. The tension is already brewing, but the wolf woman doesn't even seem to notice.
"Mmm . . . this is great, really," she mutters sarcastically to herself. The wolf's gaze darts around the room, taking everything in. She seems comfortable in her own confidence, as if she isn't randomly helping herself into a vampire's house. At least, it seems like that until her gaze lowers onto Rosalie, who is frozen in the middle of the room, her lips pulled back to reveal her gleaming white teeth.
"Oh, look, a welcoming committee. Lovely." The woman's jaw sets.
"Just who do you think you are, dog?" Rosalie snaps. She slips into a crouch, her coal black eyes locked on the wolf.
The wolf gives a smirk, her eyes shining with a sort of smugness. I grow amused as I watch her —no other has ever dared to even look at Rosalie twice when she gets angry. I hang back, hoping for a catfight of some sort.
"Who am I?" The wolf laughs softly; it's low, taunting. "To you, a nightmare. A terrorist. Bitch. Murderer. Rebel. You put the tag on."
I choke back a laugh. Something instantly makes me like this wolf—woman.
Rosalie doesn't seem to have warmed up much.
"Interesting list, mutt. Now leave," Rosalie hisses warningly, and then glances back and throws her arms around me possessively.
Her arms feel awkward around my body, but I don't push away. I stand frozen in place by the raw ferocity of the wolf's glare. She shifts her stance, leaning forward. "Why don't you shut the fangs, Barbie, before I shut you up myself?"
Rosalie hisses once more. "You—"
"Hey now," I interrupt. Both eyes settle on me, piercing deeply. I shake my head and unwind Rosalie's arms from my body, giving myself some space. "Let's have some manners please, ladies."
Rosalie glares murderously at me, but gives in with a huff and stalks back to stand beside me, her arms crossed. The wolf shakes her head slowly, her expression still dark, although underneath, I can see the smirk that she isn't allowing to form.
"Why are you here?" I continue to stare at the wolf.
She raises her gaze once more. Our eyes meet, looking deep below the surface. A shudder passes down my spine, but I ignore it, focusing on the smooth sound of her voice.
"That's what I'd want to find out if I were you, but with the blonde from hell throwing a hissy fit, things won't go anywhere now, will they?" The wolf raises an eyebrow at Rosalie, who chooses to fume in silence.
"Good." She nods and shifts her stance, standing straight. Our eyes meet again, and she continues to speak, her words flowing from her mouth as if she finds it completely natural to speak with me. "On that night a while ago, something happened when you jumped that line and I nearly slaughtered you. I know what happened, but it doesn't make sense."
She trails off for a long moment. I stare into the pools of dark blue, focusing hard. I find myself stuck in her eyes, seeing the walls she's putting up as she speaks. I don't want the walls up; something tells me if they do rise, she won't stay.
Rosalie's mouth opens as if to speak, but I step forward and cut her off. "What happened, then?"
"I imprinted on you, Cullen. Imprinting is a claim, a wolfish way of finding a soul mate, but hell, even I don't know if imprinting is real. All of this might be bullshit, another trick of my own head. This is screwed up, but I couldn't help myself."
One solid thought passes through my mind: wolf-woman isn't lying. I hear her words in my ears and my shoulders drop slightly, my posture relaxing further. I find myself staring, but I can't help it. The amazement has returned, and it slowly captures me, pulling me away from the world as if it really is only the wolf and me.
Silence hangs over the three of us as I allow all of this to settle in, but it doesn't last. Rosalie launches herself forward, spitting and thrashing, her teeth bared as if she is going to rip the wolf's throat clean out.
"Who do you think you are?!"
The wolf moves forward, her body shaking as if she has had enough of Rosalie. My arms snap out and catch Rosalie by the waist, pulling her back. Rosalie struggles uselessly against me, her attempts weakening by the moment.
"Jordan Uley, nothing less, nothing more." She smirks and then glances between the two of us. "Wanna have a go, Blondie? I break more than nails."
I know that she says this only to provoke Rosalie, and once again, I am amused by her guts. Rosalie is instantly set off. I open my hands, and she is gone in a blur of white.
Rosalie charges toward the wolf—Jordan—with incredible speed. The wolf isn't at all distracted or shocked. She only scowls, a low growl rolling from her throat. She simply steps to the side and makes a sharp turn, her foot swinging into Rosalie's back with a sharp crack.
Rosalie crashes into the wall, leaving a dent in the wall. Esme won't be too happy about that, but nobody considers what will happen; all of us are trapped in this moment. Rosalie drops into a crouch and shrieks.
"Stupid mutt! You're wrong, you beast of a woman! Wrong! You think you can take claim on my husband? He's mine! Nothing happened between you! Nothing!"
I want to step in, but it's not necessary. The wolf laughs at Rosalie, her teeth flashing in a grin. She draws out a tiny silver object from her pocket and waves it mockingly before Rosalie.
"One flick of this, and you'll be deader than you already are," Jordan taunts with a dark glint in her eye. "One flick…"
"Go ahead and try it!" Rosalie spits.
With that, Jordan's body explodes. Her form changes in the blink of an eye. One moment, the woman is there. The next, a huge white wolf crouches in our living room, low growls rolling from her mouth. The thunderous beat of her heavy heart is the only sound in the room.
Now seems to be the time for me to step in.
"You're gonna get your ass kicked, Rose," I say lowly, my eyes locked on her form as she starts to crouch to defend herself.
The white wolf slams a paw on the ground in a gesture of agreement, snarling. Rosalie, stricken with shock, leans forward slowly. She hates cussing just as much as she hates a man without manners. Her golden eyes flicker over me, then narrow.
I turn to face Rosalie, staring at the meaningless shape of her form. I almost want to throw her out now, but something stops me. I slowly process how to word what I need to say. Something like, "Hey, babe, sorry, but I've gotta side with his wolf. She's so damn fascinating. See ya!"
Even I know that now is not the time for any of that. Instead, I fix Rosalie with a stare, feeling both of their gazes rest on me. I say something completely brilliant that gets my point across without having to make an inspiring speech.
Rosalie stares, the fumes of her anger polluting the air. She gives another hiss, and then screeches. "I can't believe you would go against me for that!" She darts forward, standing before me, her cool breath blowing across my face. She searches my eyes for a long moment as if trying to find the joking gleam in them. When she finds none, she speaks slowly, her words bitter.
"You will regret this!"
Rosalie turns on her heel with another screech of fury. She darts out the door and slams it behind her with all her might. The doorknob rattles, screws clattering to the ground while rolling across the floor.
I pick up a screw, turning it in my fingers before I look at the white wolf. We both stare at each other, not saying a word. But if it's possible for a wolf to smile, I swear in that second, she does.
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