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
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