Be Careful What You Wish For

Chapter Twenty-Six

1 It was about ten in the morning when June Cassidy arrived at the Quileute reservation in her trusted old Beetle. The sky was blue and a pale sun shone, but it was dismally cold. She parked her flower-sticker-adorned little car at Front Street, close to the bus stop, and scrambled out onto the sidewalk wishing she'd opted for wearing a scarf. A sharp, icy breeze was coming in from the ocean. The air smelled briny. Humidity weighed on her shoulders like a sack of bricks. She took a deep, deep breath and shook back some of her carefully arranged, carroty hair. It was always nice to be close to the beach, cold or no cold.

Looking about herself, she found it a bit odd (and off) how deserted the place seemed. Well, it was a workday, and the kids should all be at school, so...yeah, no need to be paranoid. Armed with her purse, she decided to take a look about and gather some first impressions. It was a small, quiet place. The street was flanked by white-ish, wooden bungalows, in front of which stood mostly jeeps. On her way here, she'd passed the picturesque Quileute Oceanside Resort. The beach proper was only a block away.

It might take some time until she found a local, and even more until she found a local who was willing to talk to her. Okay, then. Time to take out the camera and start snapping some pics. She regretted not having woken up Jerry, her trusted cameraman and editor, but she'd be able to handle this on her own, and he'd been in the dire need for some rest. For now, she'd limit herself to taking some nice pics and scouting out the area. Maybe she'd pass by the Coast Guard, ask them a few questions. Who knew? She might even get lucky and-

"What are you doing here, lady?"

She spun around and found herself face to face with a very tall, rather bulky young man, who wasn't just apparently a ninja, but also a master of the disapproving scowl. "Oh, good morning! My name's June Cassidy, and I'm an online reporter. I was hoping-"

"I know who you are," the young man replied, and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his dark-blue corduroy jacket. He had short-ish, straight, very dark hair that kept falling in his sharp-angled, tan face. He also didn't look like he was in any mood for chit-chat. "You won't find what you're looking for here. Get in your car and drive away."

She arched her carefully plucked eyebrows, straightened her posture, crossed her arms, and said, "Excuse me, kid, but you have no right to dictate where I can or can't-"

He advanced on her, making her take two little steps backward. "Go away. You won't find what you're looking for here."

Even though her heart picked up the pace and she felt a little queasy, she nearly told him to go shove it. But this was a guy twice her size and not even half as friendly, and there was no-one else around. Tasering the locals should always be a last resort, too. "Fine. I'll leave. No need to get all worked up." Stiffly, she stomped to her Beetle, got inside, slammed the door shut, started the engine, and drove off. Her hands were shaking and she was seeing stars. Should she even be driving like this? Well, what she needed even less was this hoodlum flipping out and wiping the floor with her.

Despite the unwanted adrenaline rush, she couldn't help but think that she really was onto something big – something huge, in fact. It had to be something even bigger than she had ever hoped to dream.

2 "It doesn't matter whose fault it is, Bella. The damage has been done. The public eye is fixed on Forks and on La Push, and we all need to tread extra carefully, now," Demetri said, trying very hard not to sound annoyed as he said the same thing for what seemed to be the millionth time.

They were downstairs in the big living room: himself, Bella, and Jasper. Jacob was tied up and unconscious, Renesmee was tied up and (temporarily) dead, and Charlie was simply sleeping. Demetri could hear him snoring peacefully. Maria was out there doing what she did best: damage control. Two of her underlings were outside, watching the place. The sun had gone up a few hours ago. It was sunny, but the air was cold. Forgoing useless notions of pride, Demetri had stocked the lavish (and rather tacky) marble fireplace and lit a nice, cosy fire. The other vampires clearly didn't care either way.