Cold As Ice

Chapter 11

Ingrid and Paul studied Allie's face carefully as the word werewolf hung in the air. Allie took a sip of her coffee - bold and strong, just how she liked it - as she considered Paul's statement.

"So. Carlisle Cullen is a vegetarian vampire. And you're a werewolf." Allie felt the urge to laugh at how matter-of-fact she sounded.

Paul nodded. "Yes," he replied simply.

"And werewolves and vampires are, what, sworn enemies?" Allie clarified.

"In a way, yes," Paul agreed, although Allie could see that her choice of words didn't do the concept justice. "Our kind and their kind evolved as opposing forces to one another. We're the balance to the other. My people, we only undergo the change when there are cold ones - vampires - nearby." Paul shuddered to say the word, and Allie could clearly see the enmity radiating off him.

"Diametrically opposed," Allie volunteered, to which Ingrid nodded.

"And you, Ingrid? You too?" Allie asked, her eyes bouncing from Ingrid to Paul. Ingrid shook her head.

"No, not me," she replied. "But, Paul had to tell me about him when we got serious. Call it an occupational hazard, I guess."

Allie wasn't sure what that meant precisely, but she opted to leave it alone in favor of pushing ahead for more clarity.

"So how does the whole werewolf thing work? Full moon?"

Paul scoffed, the first look of amusement in his eyes since they'd started talking. "No, that's all nonsense," he replied. "It starts involuntary. Usually first happens when we get angry, like really angry. As you get older and get used to it, you can control it. Switch on command."

Allie nodded, giving her mind a second to process before pressing on.

"So you could switch now? Here, in my apartment?"

Ingrid and Paul let out a surprising, synchronized laugh.

"You wouldn't want me to do that," Paul chuckled, sipping from his own coffee mug. "Not if you ever want your security deposit back on this place."

"Oh," Allie replied simply as she considered the implications. The more she listened to Paul talk, the more tired she was beginning to feel. Without Carlisle nearby, the details of her new reality were beginning to feel heavy at the edges. She let out an involuntary yawn.

"Did he say how it happened?" Ingrid asked. Allie blinked idly at her cousin, lost on her meaning.

"The bite, I mean," Ingrid clarified, pointing to Allie's right arm where James had bitten her.

"Oh. Uhm, no, not really," Allie answered. "All he said was that he didn't know why the bite didn't work on me. He said usually when humans get bit they turn in a matter of minutes."

Allie absentmindedly rubbed her other hand over the spot of the wound. It didn't burn as much as it had yesterday when she'd first woken up, but there was a dull, deep ache there now. Allie had let Carlisle change the dressing on it last night, and she'd been startled to see that the skin on her forearm was paler than the rest of her body. It was cold and had a hardness to it, similar to the Cullens' skin but less exaggerated. It had puzzled Carlisle greatly, and Allie had seen the doctor in him come out as he'd busied himself with poking and prodding her for almost an hour before she'd told him it was beginning to hurt. In truth, Allie had started to get a little fearful of what it all meant, and she'd been floating on such a high that she didn't want to puncture her good mood with worry. Maybe it was Carlisle's absence, or Paul's new layer of information, or the nagging exhaustion nipping at her bones, but Allie felt that fear flare back to life in the back of her mind.

"Did he say why that bloodsucker nabbed you?" Paul asked, wincing as Ingrid dug her nails into his thigh at the nasty twist in his voice when he said bloodsucker.

"No, he didn't," Allie said, her voice trailing off as she wondered why she hadn't thought to ask Carlisle that. The more she spoke to Ingrid and Paul, the more holes in Carlisle's story she was beginning to unearth. It was unsettling her, and souring her previously elated mood.

Almost like a lightswitch flipping, Allie suddenly stood up, startling Ingrid and Paul somewhat.

"I'm sorry, but I'm exhausted. I need some time alone, I think."

Ingrid and Paul nodded hesitantly. It seemed weird to think about being alone now. After spending most of the last 24 hours obsessed with staying grafted to Carlisle's side, Allie now had an overwhelming urge to retreat into herself and sift through the remarkable amount of information rattling around inside her head.

"I really need to sleep," she added, trying to soften her words for Ingrid and Paul's benefit.

They rose to their feet too, nodding. They were both clearly uncertain about leaving Allie, although no one seemed to be able to volunteer an alternative plan.

"Call me when you wake up, please," Ingrid said as she and Paul lingered by the doorway. Allie nodded obligingly, trying to stifle the irritation at their slow departure.

"And please, Allie, remember that they're dangerous," Ingrid implored. "I know you don't see it, but take our word for it. We can't tell you what to do, but there's no good to come from being around thi-people like that." Ingrid caught herself in time to correct her statement, but the subtext couldn't be clearer: the Cullens weren't humans and therefore couldn't be trusted. The irony of their labeling vampires as not human with Paul walking around as a self-identified werewolf seemed lost on them, but Allie was too tired to argue. Instead, she gave her cousin and Paul a half nod, half shrug as she ushered them out the door.

Allie listened to the sounds of retreating footsteps as she threw the deadbolt on her front door. When she heard the low hum of Paul's truck come to life and slowly dissolve into the distance, she dragged herself into her bedroom, collapsing on her bed and succumbing to a deep, long sleep.