Dead Moon Rising

Chapter Fourteen

Belle felt herself being rushed out of the room. Gusts of wind brushed against her face, her only grounding point. Her light was fleeting, and she sensed herself fading away. Flashes of her family came and went, replacing thoughts of her adoptive parents with images of the Herveuxs: Slick, Reggie, and Marsha. She clung to the memories of the people she had grown so fond of in such a short time, feeling herself drop onto a soft surface before fading out again.

Voices occasionally penetrated the darkness of her mind, offering audible glimpses into the conversations around her.

"She needs my blood!" one voice insisted.

"I'm not letting you near her!" the other responded. Belle couldn't make out the voices, but she knew they were close.

She drifted in and out of consciousness, each return more disorienting than the last, until a thick, familiar liquid dripped onto her lips. It was slow at first, but with each sip, the bright light connecting her to consciousness grew stronger. The blood flowed into her mouth, breathing life into her. The familiar intensity of her first experience with V enveloped her senses. She felt herself healing, her mind racing, and she couldn't stop drinking. The arm bearing the wound she drank from suddenly pulled away, and Belle's eyes snapped open.

Glancing around the unfamiliar room, she pushed herself up in bed. The white walls and tan carpet offered little in the way of identifying features. Her gaze landed on the figure next to her: Edmund stood before her, rolling down his shirt sleeve, staring at her.

"You should be better now," he said softly, then smiled before vanishing in an instant. Belle fell back onto the bed, confusion her only emotion. She couldn't tell if she had died or was dying; the feeling was so close to death. Before the blood had touched her lips, she hadn't been sure if it was the end. A heaviness lingered in her head, and the tension that had felt so tight upon waking was now only a dull presence. She closed her eyes for what felt like a moment and fell asleep.

When she awoke, Reggie greeted her with breakfast: bacon and eggs arranged in a smile, though a restless look marred his face. He smelled strongly of cigarettes, and the bags under his eyes were evident.

"Good morning," he said wearily, taking a seat in the armchair next to the bed. Belle stared at him, then picked up the bacon, completing the smile on the plate. Taking a bite, she looked back at him.

"You've been out for a while. We were worried he turned you," Reggie said hesitantly. Belle remained silent, eating her breakfast slowly and methodically. "How do you feel?"

"I feel... pretty good," Belle confessed. The tension in her head glimmered, and she twitched at the sensation. Reggie nodded, sighing with relief.

"How long has it been?" she asked, beginning to work on the eggs.

"Since the trial? Two days," he responded.

"How's Marsha?" Reggie rolled his eyes and shrugged.

"She's fine," he retorted, agitation dripping from his words. Belle considered his reaction before speaking. Reggie leaned toward her and shushed her softly, pressing his finger against her lips.

"Belle... I need... I want to tell you..." he said nervously, shifting in his seat. "I love you, Belle. After the trial, I was more certain of it than ever, and I don't want to lose you. I want you here with me in the pack." Belle gaped at him, assessing his words carefully. She worked through each part of his confession, searching for a joking tone behind them. She had strong feelings for Reggie since the moment they met, but something about who he was gave her pause.

"I know you have something... brewing with Marsha, but I can't go on without putting my hat in the ring," he finished. Belle swallowed and closed her eyes, taking in his words before responding.

"Reggie, after what happened, I think I need to focus on myself," she finally said. "Not a relationship with you or Marsha." Their eyes met, a somber look shared between them, before Reggie hardened. "As for the pack, you might be right... I can't be a lone wolf anymore." Reggie nodded.

"I understand. I'll be waiting for when you're ready for a relationship, and when that time comes, I hope it's me you choose." He ran his hand through his thick hair, giving her a serious look.

"Alcide made me pack enforcer," a smile flashed across his lips as he spoke, pride evident in his eyes. "I'll be able to protect you better than I could before. Anything you need, call me," he said.

"You've done so much," she responded.

"Not enough." With that, he stood up, smiling flatly as he headed toward the exit. Before leaving, he turned around.

"You can leave whenever you want. I tuned up your Chevy and gave it an oil change, so it's ready to drive." With that, he left the room, closing the door behind him. Belle sat in silence for a moment, considering her options. She was well enough to leave, but something in her mind screamed to stay. The tension in her head writhed as she forced herself off the bed and toward the door. Each step made the tension scream and tug at her, begging her to return to that little basement room. Despite the struggle, she pushed onward toward her house.

When she arrived home, the feeling became a full throb—a biting headache, close to emotions that felt all too familiar: worry, fear, haste. As she walked the few steps toward the front door, those feelings turned into words, and she could hear Edmund clearly in her mind.

"You shouldn't be here, girl," he said as she ascended the stairs, following the direction of her emotions.

"This is my house, isn't it?" she thought back. Silence met her as she found Edmund packing bags in a room she had never seen before. The room was filled with books and jars of thick liquid. She made a note to search it once he left.

"What are you doing?" she asked, staring at the nearly full bag of books.

"I must go..." he said tersely.

"Why? Where?" she pressed, sitting next to the vampire.

"There's so much you don't know, child. I've broken the laws of the coven; I must face my crimes."

"What crimes?" A sigh escaped Edmund's lips as he zipped up the bag.

"Edmund, I need answers," she said with conviction.

"What do you want to know?" he finally spoke. Belle could feel his annoyance, their shared emotions flickering shades of blue and red in her mind's eye, revealing the intense fear he truly felt.

"About the diary Alcide had," she said.

"Yes... well..." he sighed. "Maisie is your kin, as you know. She was your aunt, I believe." The tension in Belle's head rose as anxiety grew on Edmund's face. She pointed to her head and looked at him.

"The blood you drank has lasting effects. It will diminish with time, but I will be gone before then," he said, standing to his feet. Belle followed as Edmund hastily made his way down the stairs and toward the front door.

"I'm leaving Shreveport. Do not follow me, or you will die," he said, and with that, he flashed out the door before Belle could respond. She stood at the open front door, disoriented for a moment before closing and locking it. The tension in her head faded to a whisper.

"This must be the bond," she said to herself, rubbing her fingers against her temple. She walked to the living room and plopped onto the couch, reaching out to Edmund with her mind but only finding dust trails in his wake. She could still feel him, however faint; the bond was still active in her mind, and she held onto it, attempting to create a mental map of where the vampire was headed.

After about an hour of mental strain, Belle found her brain quiet. Nothing but that same tension she felt upon waking remained, and she gave up on tracking her friend.

"Focus on yourself," she told herself, leaning back into the softness of the couch. She was finally on her own, and she had to figure out what that meant for her. She smiled at the thought and closed her eyes, sinking into the feeling. She wasn't running anymore; she was exactly where she ought to be. The sensation of completion lulled her into security as she let out a sigh.

"This is home," Belle said.