Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, ect., are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summery: Eight years after Bella’s abandonment in New Moon, she is thrust back into a life of the supernatural… but as she soon finds out, not all vampires are created equal. AU.
Most characters will be completely out of Fan-fiction character. Just a warning.
Warnings: Rated Mature for language, gore and adult situations. Readers under the age of 18 are discouraged from reading.
Kiss Me. Bite Me. Love Me.
Chapter Six
~ Garrett ~
 |
| Garrett |
She is just as beautiful as I remember, perhaps even more so in this human shell. Her purity and fragility make her thus; like a delicate white rosebud nearly to blossom. It makes me tingle in anticipation. I want to see her bloom.
Isabella has always been somewhat of a delicate creature, always. As a child she made herself small and meek, hardly speaking to anyone outside of Peter, Charlotte and myself. As a adolescent, she was stuttering shy and always so dedicated to her studies and the written word. In fact it wasn’t until the year 1791 after her blossoming into womanhood, a still virtuous age of 321, did I see her true self emerge.
Strangely enough, it was after she made the young Major. He was a breath of fresh air where Peter cloistered her. He made no demands of her, forced her to live her un-life and he positively showered her with affection. He truly did or should I say ’does’ love her.
Peter may hate the crazy bastard, which I understood too. I wouldn’t want a woman, especially one belonging to me and looked like Isabella to flounce the days away with another man. Another man that professed his undying love and affection upon her daily.
He quickly became the light in Isabella’s dark and it ate Peter to no end. It hurt him that Isabella would go to Jasper instead of himself in times of comfort and need. It also made the already uptight noble incredibly bitter which is why I suspect he’d punished Jasper as he did, sending him to Maria on purpose was dirty business and I bet my un-life on the gamble that he’s been neglecting to share information with our little princess for just the same reason.
He’s absolutely terrified that Isabella will go screaming straight back to Jasper’s arms the moment she re-awakens.
Personally, I loved the honey blonde from the South, although he does look ready to take a bite out of me at any moment. Perhaps he’s just pissed at Isabella? A fellow can dream can’t he?
“What the fuck are you doin’ here, Garrett?” Jasper growls lowly, his black eyes boring into mine with such intensity that were I a lesser man, I might have turned to ash under his deep gaze.
Can’t have that, can we?
Smirking, I give him a mocking little bow. “Feisty, Feisty, Jasper. Really, is it so bad to see me here?”
His lips twitch but there is absolutely no amusement in his eyes. “That depends on why you’re here.” He snarls, lips curling over teeth as his obvious protective instincts come roaring to the forefront.
It’s terrible, I think, the way torturing him so makes me giddy to no end, but I honestly can’t help myself. It’s just like old times; with Charlotte twirling about the room, Jasper entertaining Isabella and all of us annoying Peter to the pits of Hell. It makes me want to rub my hands together like the mad, cackling scientists of cinema’s silver screen. It’s truly diabolical.
As much as I wish to try the Major’s patience this night, I decided against it as he truly doesn’t look up to the mood. As a matter a fact; I don’t believe I’ve seen him look so pissed off since Peter informed him that Bella was still alive and well, trapped in this human shell. He was bloody murderous.
I fear that one of these days that the Count will eventually push Jasper too far and the Major will make good on a promise he made many years ago. I shudder to remember that day…
“Are you going to state your business here or not?” Jasper asks, louder this time for what I believe is Isabella’s benefit. The woman in question quirks a brow high on her forehead showing her blatant confusion of the situation.
I smile at both of them. “I believe I have just as much right to be here as you do, in fact, I believe I have more…” There’s no need to elaborate on what I mean, he knows damn well who and what I am. He also knows better than to test my patience where my little Soră (1) is of concern.
Sighing deeply with defeat he takes a more humbling stance and directs Isabella to the room that has been purposefully hidden from her. “Keep an open mind,” he whispers reverently into her hair as she passes.
Without removing my eyes from his, I jerk at the lock lightly and it breaks under my grip with ease. “Careful of what you wish for, Unul mic.” I wish for nothing more than to kiss her crown and remove the trouble weight from her brow. She’s positively terrified about what she is about to see, and with good reason. Her whole world is about to change and once changed… it can never again be what it once was.
It is my selfishness that compels me to do the reprehensible things I do to her now, but I have longed for her company for so long now, even before the betrayal of Charlotte, and Bella’s…
“My god,” She gasps, most likely taking in the largest and most telling nature of her past, hung beautifully above the fireplace. It has always been Peter’s favorite and admittedly, mine as well. Our little rose blossom is beyond stunning and oh, so very happy. It was commissioned several years after Isabella’s first bloodletting, a right of passage among noble vampires. It was ritualistic, barbaric and Isabella abhorred it, but it made Peter so happy, it in turn made her happy as well.
Before I can comprehend myself, Jasper flies past me, frantic and clutching at his Bella as her knees go week. Hmm, not quite the reaction I was expecting. Hear-tell from Alice, our Isabella is tiring of the Count’s cat and mouse but she’s not throwing anything, she’s not cursing his name or making idle threats we all know she can’t follow through with. She’s in tears and clutching an all too familiar frame to her bust, completely ignoring what should be the frightening wedding tapestry hanging right above her button nose. Oh, dear.
“Shh…” Jasper coddles, shushing her repeatedly and trying to pry the sharp crystal photo frame that is digging into her still buttery flesh. She must have plucked it straight of Peter’s desk.
The strong smell of her salty tears permeate the room as well does the crimson liquid that flows from her cut palms. My eyes dart to Jasper’s face immediately, concern and protective instincts practically radiating out of my arse. He growls lowly. “I can control myself!”
Of that, I have no doubt but as Isabella fed him directly from her flesh from the time he was changed until her slumber, I’m sure the temptation must be of a magnitude I can’t fathom.
“Is- Is this me?” She questions me directly, turning the photo over so that I may have a look. “This can’t be me…” Her face is dejected as she knows more than anyone that it is indeed her.
The similarities are too great and the fact that Jasper is standing next to her, stupid grin on his boyish face… she knows, she has too.
Sucking in a deep breath she points a bloodied finger at my likeness. “Who are you? No. That’s not right… Who are you to me, both of you?”
Jasper goes to stuttering almost instantly, tripping over his own feet and tongue as he tries once again to shed her of the delicate portrait that if ruined could not, ever, be replaced. It wouldn’t have mattered to him at all, if not for it being his own possession. Another of Peter’s punishments for something done long ago, something that to this day I believe Jasper to be undeserving. It was just a kiss, after all, but Peter took it as the greatest offense against him. Isabella remains unawares, she was slipping into sleep and Jasper thought she was dying.
“Jasper, stop!” Isabella demands roughly, and like a petulant child, he does.
“Now,” she says firmly, thrusting the tattered portrait once again into our viewing. “Who are you?”
I decide to spare the poor boy and get the biggest shock factor out of the way, though I am uncertain that her relationship to me will be more shocking than the fact that she, herself, sired Jasper. “Might I look at your wounds first?” I ask politely, smiling to myself before she ever opens her mouth. I already know her stubbornness and curiosity will not allow it.
“No.” she responds curtly. No surprise there.
“Alright then,” I tell her as I glide into a high-back style of wingback chair and ottoman that I believe has been reupholstered since I last visited this homestead. “I’m your brother.”
Her eyes almost cross as the shock of what I have told her registers on her beautiful face. “You mean-- like, like…” Poor rose bud can’t even string words together.
“You are my younger sibling, three hundred years my junior to be exact.”
“You seem much older than three hundred years old,” she states condescendingly, then turns pale as she realizes that wasn’t even close to what I meant. “How old are you?”
“Seven hundred and seventy years young, my dear.”
“Oh God! Oh God!… That means… Oh God!”
Yes, that meant that she was in fact four hundred and seventy years old, a lot to take in, especially for someone who previously thought themselves to be human. Jasper grimaced as the revelation passed across her face, for a good long moment I thought she was going to be sick, and I couldn’t blame her for a second.
Pardon my French but, fuck! She thought she was a honest-to-god human until fifteen minutes ago, and in some sick way, I had taken that from her. Peter was just as fault in my mind, he should have had her well aware before my presence was ever called upon, but still, I could see where Peter was having a hard time. My sister was one of the most stubborn women I’ve ever met, but I had news for his Highness: She was going to be twice as pissed with him for keeping such secrets.
With tear of what I am sure were both equal parts frustrations and rage she rounded on the Major again. “And you? What are you to me, Jasper?” she whispers, her gaze frightful but unwavering. She is committed to finding the truth and I would truly feel sorry for Goldie Locks should he lie to her now.
He sighed heavily, running a fidgeting hand through his unruly hair. “You are my maker, you saved me from my mortal death… you told me you couldn’t bare to see me die. You have been my everything since that day.”
~ Bella ~
“That- that can’t be!” I exclaimed to the two, clearly insane vampires standing before me. “Maria sired Jasper!” One had to be insane. Just had too. Garrett was just like Peter and Charlotte, impossibly more beautiful than even a normal vampire. Normal vampires? Maybe it’s me that needs the padded room?
“It’s true Sora, I was there on the day you made the claim on his life. You begged Peter to let you change him and as normal, Peter can deny you nothing.” Garrett informed with a whimsical smile.
That insanity theory was beginning to seem more and more likely.
I wanted to scoff in his face… Peter not deny me anything? What a crock. It’s all the man has done since I met him.
Then there’s Jasper, standing there with that adoring look on his face, like I was his sun, moon and stars all rolled into one. That’s when I noticed it… For as much as the supernatural races have told me I’m observant, I clearly am not. It was hanging there, right in front of my nose since I walked through the door, a tapestry. There was no denying the resemblance. The likeness of me was uncanny and though, it wasn’t exactly what I had imagined myself as an immortal the vestige was incredibly more so.
“Peter really is Dracula, isn’t he?” I whispered as I studied the two characters woven into the finest materials, I’m sure. I wanted to deny everything, claim that it must have been one of my ancestors but down to every detail the woman in the red dress was me. And I was standing next to Peter, eyes glowing in the same chocolate-covered-cherry way.
“Yes,” My brother responded. “And you are Lady Tepes, confined for the last twenty-six years inside this shell to protect you from those who wished you harm.”
I could only nod, I knew it was true… my strange dreams, the unhealthy pull to Peter.. Oh god, the blood, it tasted fantastic and now I know why.
“Are you gonna be alright, Bella?” Jasper asked, concern lacing his voice, even tinting the air. He must be projecting.
After taking a shuddering breath, I smiled. “Yeah, I really think I am.”
“Come child, let us leave these rooms…” my brother started. I had a brother. “Peter will no doubt sense that I am already here and he knows I abhor secretz. He will likely be put-”
Garrett cut off just as Jasper pulled me behind him and a voice floated into the room, a voice filled with fiery anger.
“Peter is already here!”
Authors Notes:
(1) Sister
Unul mic = little one
Mostly just a filler chapter. We’ll find out more about Bella and how she came to be in her human shell in the coming chapters. Sorry for the Cliffy, you know how I love them.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, ect., are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summery: Eight years after Bella’s abandonment in New Moon, she is thrust back into a life of the supernatural… but as she soon finds out, not all vampires are created equal. AU.
Most characters will be completely out of Fan-fiction character. Just a warning.
Warnings: Rated Mature for language, gore and adult situations. Readers under the age of 18 are discouraged from reading.
Kiss Me. Bite Me. Love Me.
Chapter Five
~ Bella’s Point of View ~
~With the white lace of winter raining down around me, I stood my ground. Outrunning it was not an option anymore. My legs were heavy and weak with fatigue; my clothes were soaked weighing me down.
My lungs were burning with each breath as I stared down the shadowed creature in front of me. I knew what it was, my father had warned me long ago of there existence and yet, I was not frightened. Yelling with all my might I asked, “What do you want with me!”
The glint of ivory fangs in the moonlight was the only reason to believe it even heard me. It was smiling at me but it said nothing.
Stepping out from the shadows of the surrounding forest I could finally make out the lithe form of a man, thin and tall. His pale hair was gleamed like moonbeams making him almost ethereal looking but his eyes glowed a hellish red. There was nothing angelic about this man. No. This man that stood before me was a demon; a beast in human form. “So sweet.” he murmured. “So sweet.”
He took a step forward and I in turn took a step back, but it was no use. There was no one that could save me now. I was alone, there was no one here that could stop it.
A cold hand slithered around my neck, rough pads and sharp claws trailing along my skin. A sharp sting followed shortly after and the sharp his of the creature above me. Ice cold shutters ran the length of my spine when I felt my warm jacket being peeled away and then the cloth of my shirt being shredded. “No!” I screamed, feeling the pools of burning liquid seeping from my back.
The creature chuckled, apparently enjoying the fear that now wracked my body. ~
Surging straight up in bed, I struggled to find purchase on this reality and shake myself from what ever the hell that was. The dreams were becoming worse now. Every night I had them and sometimes during the day as well. It wasn’t all that surprising anymore to have them while my eyes were open and someone was talking to me.
Several weeks have trickled past, like a leaky faucet that drips. And just like that leaky faucet, living among Peter, Charlotte, Jasper and Alice has had much the same effect on my sanity. I want to rip out the proverbial plumbing and bash Peter in the face with it until he nothing but a pile of bloody goo and smashed fangs.
Peter even ended up on the receiving end of another broken antique recently, the bastard. But I totally believed and still believe he fully had it coming to him. He should have told me he was planning to remove me from the country and into the wilder parts of Eastern Europe that were still so fucking cold I couldn’t even go outside.
It was the biggest argument I had had with Peter to date. Well it wasn’t so much an argument as it was a lot of yelling and throwing things, both on my part.
Once my temper was sated, the tears came. It was humiliating to break down the way I did and in front of who I did but he just had to understand. Yes, while there was no longer a family that would miss me it didn’t mean I was ready to give up my life at the drop of Peter’s hat.
Of course, he didn’t understand that.
He was right on one aspect. I didn’t really have much of a life to go back too. My father has been dead for six years and Renee and I stopped talking not long after Edward’s departure and she threatened to put me away for good if I couldn’t deal with my issues.
My issues? I scoff even now, at the thought.
Our little tift came to a head when I called him a heartless monster. He turned on me, his face lived and… hurt? He hid it was a callous smile and fake enthusiasm. “Yes, I am.” he said before leaving the room entirely. He didn’t speak to me again for three days, and we were already on a flight to the old country.
~
I felt incredibly childish, sitting above the coverlet on my bed, drawing out Peter’s name over and over again in my journal like some hormonal teenager. In my defense, it hadn’t started out that way but I had just learned Peter’s full name and felt the incredible urge to see it penned out in my own script. Or at least, that’s what I told myself for sanities sake.
Peter Rimidalv Tepes
What a strange name, I thought to myself. Adding my own flare to the A’s and D’s. As my pen continued to move in heavy fluid marks against thick parchment my mind started to wander to his face. Those strange chocolate crimson eyes, so dissimilar from the other vampires I had seen before to the strong ivory teeth that seemed to nearly explode from his mouth when he was angry. What was it about him that made him so different from the others?
Sighing I flung myself into the mass of pillows at my back, angry and frustrated. I was still no closer to finding any answers about Peter and I was starting to unravel under the strain of my mind. I desperately craved those answers as I seemed to crave his presence. And that I didn’t understand either.
Peter was an enigma to me; mysterious and exciting and I made this as an excuse to myself for the longing I felt for him.
Sitting back up with renewed hope I took my journal and pen in hand, determined to figure this all out. I was just about ready to turn the page and start fresh, to list the anomalies I had come across in his home. Suddenly I stopped dead, my heart slammed into my ribs as my fingers grappled at the thick pages like a life line. My knuckles were turning white with the force of my own terror. Shakily, I looked down at the page once more and blinked and blinked again, thinking that maybe I had strained myself a little too far. There was just now way I was seeing… that. It just wasn’t possible.
With my heart pounding in my ears I picked up my pen with trembling fingers and started to write. As a child I had loved word scrambles and puzzles, loved the challenge they presented and the feeling of completion when I figured them out correctly. None of those feeling came though as I started to write out his name. This time slower.
Peter Rimidalv Tepes
I stared at the name like it would hold the key to my salvation. ‘Peter’, not at all an unusual name. I tried it backwards and snorted at how stupid it looked. ‘Retep’, not anything dangerous or captivating, so I ignored it.
‘Rimidalv’ was definitely a little more exotic but with Peter’s dark hair, eyes and strong European nose I thought nothing of it. So the guys from Europe, nothing scary about that, right? Even backwards or scrambled up I really couldn’t find anything of interest. Backwards it was Vladimir but even then, that wasn’t such a strange name. But why would he hide it by spelling it backwards? Was that even the case? Was I just really paranoid?
But it was the name as a whole that I had been dreading, it was what the whole reason I had started this dissection of his beautiful name. Just as it was, it was exotic… erotic and beautiful but as I stared at the page a new name sprang forth from it. Then I did it backwards, hoping beyond hope that I was just an insane, childish woman with a fairy tale complex. I wrote out each individual letter just below the original spelling.
R-I-M-I-D-A-L-V
V-L-A-D-I-M-I-R
As I thought about it I put my new findings together and nearly shrieked.
‘Vladimir Tepes’
I read and re-read the name carefully. Trying to think of anything other than what was right in front of me. It could be just a coincidence. I could possibly be an ancestral name. It could have been a lot of things but somewhere in the depths of my soul I knew that it was true.
Vladimir Tepes as in thee Vladimir Tepes. As in Vlad Dracul Tepes lll.
“Dracula.” I gasped.
“My, my, look at my naughty Nancy Drew.” Peter’s voice crooned lowly in my ear. “Don’t you know it’s impolite to snoop?”
I swung around, my mouth open and ready but as his dark crimson eyes met my own, his nose only inches from my own my terrible scream died in my throat. Instead, I grasped at my robes and trembled. “I-I wasn’t s-snooping.” My voice sounded less defiant and more terrified than I had tried for but this man… was deadly.
His eyes no matter how frightening held nothing but pure amusement. More than likely he enjoyed scaring the shit out of me. He was sadistic after all. His chocolate brow cocked in question as a smirk upturned, a single fang pressing into that plump bottom lip. As I realized I was staring, so did he and his smirked transformed into an all out gloating grin. “Is that so?” He asked silkily, raising his pale hand to caress the apple of my cheek.
When I said nothing he advanced a step, discarding his half empty glass of crimson liquid onto the dark wood nightstand. “So then you know I’m not this Dracula correct, little dove?” He stated casually, but mocking all at the same time.
“Aren’t you?” I asked sassily, cocking a brow and mirroring his expression. He was not amused and it showed plainly in his eyes, though he quickly hid it. Sometime I couldn’t help but think something was wrong with me. Why did I feel the need to push his buttons? And why the Hell did his voice, even when he was being a condescending pain, cause me to tremble - not in fear, but in total desire? Was I sick or something?
“Am I?” He purred silkily, a soft growl rising up from his chest. He was toying with me, this I knew for certain and I wondered momentarily if he had really fallen so far into boredom that he resort to tormenting his human.
I smirked back him saucily. “You tell me.”
His whole demeanor changed then, his eyes going from that sweet chocolate-cherry to flaming red in an instant but his face remained the same as if my retort had had no effect on him whatsoever. He eyed me for several minutes before I suddenly had the urge to pull up my covers like a child and hide from the big bad monster.
Before my eyes could register anything, my back hit the soft down of my pillows and Peter was hovering above me his eyes still glowing like beacons of death as a firm knee nudged between my thighs and his cool hand came down to caress the crook of my neck.
My eyes watched him warily as his hand slipped over to the glass at the bedside. Peter’s eyes soften into malicious amusement, his face giving nothing away as he dipped a solitary digit into liquid and slowly held it before my lips. “Do you want a taste, Isabella? A taste of true darkness?” I nearly moaned from the seductive tone of his voice but bit it back. I would not humiliate myself in front of him again.
He chuckled as if he plucked the thought straight out of my head, his long canines lengthening in his mouth before my very eyes as he smeared the thick, pungent blood across my bottom lip. Without thinking my tongue darted out to taste the foreign substance and I groaned in rapture and shut my eyes as the salty, sweet taste exploded in my mouth.
“That’s it, Puţin Prinţesă.” (1) He crooned darkly, his weight lowering till his chest was flush with mine.
When I felt the icy coolness of his lips at the corner of my mouth, my eyes shot open and I jolted upwards but nothing was there. It was as if Peter had vanished into thin air or perhaps I had imagined the whole thing.
Yes, that had to be it.
“Don’t be so sure.” A chuckling voice echoed off the walls of my room and I gasped. Had he been reading my thoughts again? Was this still some wicked part of my twisted imagination?
My eyes darted frantically about the room, searching, for anything that would prove that he had really been here and that I wasn’t insane. I smiled ruefully as my eyes caught site of my nightstand and the glass of blood still standing there and next to it a single blood rose, freshly clipped and meant for me.
My temper rose as I stared at that rose, a symbol of affection in my eyes but nonetheless, a reminder of all the secrets I wasn’t privy to. It pissed me off to no end that Peter was keeping things like this from me, and that bastard never did answer my question.
Well no more!
Jumping of my bed I strode to the door with renewed determination and flung them wide. Not surprised at all that Jasper was standing there, a deep frown on his face as his eyes zeroed in on my lips.
Shit! The blood.
“Where the fuck is Peter?” I commanded, jabbing my finger into his chest. He said nothing of course and I could tell the cogs were turning in his mind, trying to figure out why my hair was in the state it was in and why I had blood smeared across my lips. “Snap out of it!” I finally yelled, raising my hand to slap him. Probably wasn’t the brightest idea I had ever come up with. More than likely I’d just break my hand, but I was done with this cryptic shit!
Faster than a striking snake he grabbed my wrist and backed me forcefully against the doorjamb. “What has he done?” he growled, his grip tightening. It wasn’t meant to be painful, I knew full well what a vampires strength was like and Jasper wasn’t even bruising the skin, but rather making sure I understood he was serious. Well, so am I.
Harding my face I growled back. Of course, it wasn’t nearly as intimidating as Jasper’s or Peter’s but it got the point across. Don’t fuck with me right now. “Where. Is. He?”
“Gone.” He answered tersely, his hard eyes never wavering from my face as he obviously tried to understand what had just happened. “Now, tell me what happened?”
Jerking my arm from his grasp like I had been burned, I turned and started down the hall towards Peter’s private study with purpose. Jasper swore under his breath and followed hot on my heels. “What are you doing, Bella?”
“Getting some answers.” I told him without turning back. His frigid hand grasped at my elbow tugging me to a gentle stop, before he darted in front of me.
His face was twisted in concern as his eyes bored hard into mine. “I can’t let you.” Even he winces at his words and I can tell it’s not something he wants to tell me but even so…
“Let me?” I questioned angrily, shoving at his shoulders. It wasn’t a surprise that he didn’t budge but it did piss me off.
After another little shove, I growled. “Goddamnit, Jasper, let me through!”
Strangely enough he did move, but it wasn’t by his will or mine. Standing next to Jasper was a startling beautiful man… er, vampire. An unfamiliar one with long auburn hair that reached his elbows and startling bright red eyes.
“Let her pass, Jasper.” He commanded softly, his accent was muddled and old but very American. Who the hell was this guy.
Jasper hung his head. “Peter’s gonna be so pissed.”
“I will deal with him.” This new vampire growled. I liked him instantly.
Sticking my hand out in the politest manner I could muster, I introduced myself. “Isabella Swan.”
He smiled and I was very pleased to see two rows of perfectly sharp but straight teeth. “Pleasure, Miss Swan.” He bowed low at the waist. “My name is Garrett.”
(1) Little Princess
