Shards of Sunset (Twilight Fan-Fiction book 2)

Chapter 22 No air

Chapter 22 No air

Emmett's POV

I look around the small ransacked home of Victoria and James. Looking for a clue to how Lucas overpowered James, and got away from Victoria. Had she gotten him yet? Am I too late to save Lucas? Scooping up James's body, I turn away from the mess before me, and dash from the house. Stopping just outsied the view of the street, I plow my fingers through the dirt, until a satisfactory grave is lying before me. I silently pray that this is the last I ever see of James.

Throwing his withered body into the deep hole, I pull a match from my jacket pocket. Even though he's already dead, I'm still thoutrough when it comes to killing my enemies. If you bury an enemy alive, he might just come back to stab you in the back. I begin to push the giant mound of thick brown dirt over the body of the vampire that has caused my family and I so much turmoil in the past. As a particularly large heap of moist sand and clay falls upon him, his face is buried.

I begin to relax, as James slowly becomes nothing but a mound of dirt, and as the hole becomes less and less, I begin to exhale more freely. As the dirt becomes level with the surrounding ground, I kick the mound of remaining dirt with all my superhuman strength, and it scatters across the yard, and the place looks completely normal once more. Knocking the access dirt off my fingers, walk back to the now empty house to look for any clues left behind.

Pushing the door ajar, I squeeze into the tiny living room. I can smell Chloe, and Lucas immediately. They were sitting on this sofa, right here. I try to measure the amount of time that has passed since my true love was in this exact spot. I spin around, at the sound of movement. When I realize that its just a car on the road in front of the house, my back unstiffens, and I prepare to leave. I know that we're supposed to be conspicuous, but I can't let nother vampire get Lucas's scent.

I pull another match from my jacket, and strike it once, before dropping it onto the sofa before me. The thread instantly engulfs in flames, and before me the house becomes an inferno. As soon as his scent is completely masked with the smell of burning cloth, and I see that the fire will do its job correctly, I whip through the house, and find myself in a bedroom. His scent led me here, and I look around, for what I have to burn. My eyes fall upon a suitcase. 

I kneel down before the suitcase that I recognize. The reason it's so familiar is because I gave him this suitcase. He was going to stay here. That is the only explanation, but why would he ever want to stay here? Unless he was seeking protection from Rosalie. I unzip the bag, and sift through the articles of clothing that smell so much like Lucas. Bringing one shirt to my face, I breathe in the scent of my love. The sound of people in the house brings me to my senses.

Snapping up to a standing position, I gather the suitcase, and head to the window, but not before lighting the bed on fire with another match. Just, before I leap from the window, I look back to see the room in flames, and blue lights in the front of the house. I hit the ground running, and speed my way from the town, leaving James to rot in his shallow grave. Catching the scent of Lucas is pulled from my mind, when Victoria's scent fills my nostrils. I continue running with newfound rage.

I run through town after town, and before I know it I'm running through the uninhabited lands of eastern Canada. Every now and then I pass a small town, but for the most part it's just forests, and mountains. I finally slow down, when Victoria's scent grows stronger in my nostrils. I look to my right, and see that a small town is dimyl lit, and Victoria's scent leads right to it. Running to the edge of the town, a sniff the air, and head in the direction of the scent.

After a few moments of following the heady scent of the redheaded vampire, in which I now hunt, but it leads me in circles. Finally I find a small, faint trail away from the circle. I follow it fearlessly, and come to a stop by a small patch of trees. Walking through the shallow banks of snow, I plow through the thick brush, and find myself before a large tree. Victoria is there. Her Red curls are slapped to her face, from the dampness of the snow.