Thursday, September 1, 2011

Teaser for Chapter 19 of Bitemarks & Bloodstains

The hotter my senses run, the cooler Bella's become, and I wonder if maybe there's something to this method she's chosen to reintegrate herself into the Cullens—if the bonds of family and friendship are doing something to allay her worries and turmoil. Maybe it works both ways—or maybe this is just the way Bella draws power to give herself the strength she needs to face this conflict with her head held high. She's got all these bonds lashing her down to this particular location in space and time; she has something to fight for, something that she thinks is worth it. So do I, but I can't even imagine how much she feels she has at stake, because just knowing that she's on the line here is enough to send me into overdrive.

I have no idea what Bella and Alice said to Carlisle to get him on board with this plan, but that was more of my own doing. There just wasn't a chance in hell that I was going to talk to him about it if I could help it. It's odd, to be so purposefully out of the loop. It's a price I'm willing to pay, however, because if I don't talk to Carlisle then I don't have to consider that he might try to take the battle plans out of my hands, and because after whatever their conversation entailed Alice disappears for a blissful two days. Teaching Rosalie how to do a roundhouse is so much more fun without Alice there to screw it up.

I don't haven't the slightest clue as to what Alice did to ensure the Volturi come when she deems the best time to be, but it doesn't really matter, either. There isn't anything I can do to manipulate the situation; I have to trust that she has it taken care of, no matter how much it bothers me to leave it in her hands. I have to allow a tentative belief in her words to me out in the forest when she'd said that no matter what she'd be on my side, and hope that means she's unconditionally on Bella's as well. Besides, I know Alice well enough to realize that if I had told her not to do it, she would have just gone behind our backs; at least this way I have some semblance of a heads-up.

The day comes without ceremony. It's four o'clock in the morning on a meaningless Monday when Alice returns, slamming the door on her way in to the house before she calmly tells us, “They're coming.”


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