Rip Tide: A Twilight Fanfiction

Chapter Seven: Old Friend, New Headaches

Hot breath wafted into my face, reeking of death. Those sharp teeth had ripped apart more than a few vampires in the past; the sickly sweet smell of vampire flesh was unmistakable. With my eyes shut tight, I hoped he would kill me quick. A well deserved fate for bringing death to Forks. Lives were tragically altered because of me. This was my punishment, for being such a useless coward. For abandoning my brother when he needed my moral support.

Goodbye, cruel world.

Braced for the killing bite, I was startled when a yelp of pain pierced my ears. I opened my eyes just in time to see the black werewolf tumbling away. On the ground, he shook his head, trying to recover from the blow that had sent him sprawling. His smoldering glare fixed on the vampire, who suddenly stood as a protective barrier between me and the bloodthirsty Pack.

Tall and lean, the vampire was sturdily built. His skin wasn't pale white; he couldn't be any of the Cullens. On the contrary, his skin was a chalky shade of toffee, complementing the glossy black waves of his well-groomed hair. It was cut slightly shorter on the sides, while the top had a slightly unkempt look. Over a white tunic, he wore a sapphire and gold vest embroidered with ornate patterns. The bottom half of his attire consisted of simple, tan-colored trousers and white shoes, which had become rather filthy from running at high speeds through the forest.

No freaking way! In disbelief, I choked out, "Rajah?"

Rajah glanced over his shoulder to wink at me, before turning his attention to the Pack. The werewolves paced anxiously behind their leader, practically salivating as they waited for orders. Their leader, the black wolf, pushed himself up after he assessed his challenging adversary. His lips drew back to bare his sharp teeth. With an ominous snarl, he lunged straight for Rajah. His claws raked the air, eager to tear him limb from limb for having the nerve to interrupt my execution.

Claws never met stony vampire flesh. The werewolf halted in mid-lunge, suspended in the air several feet off the ground. It was like time itself had stopped, but the wind shook the branches and the forest seemed to quiver. 

That was a close call, I thought, while I remained on the ground. After sustaining several injuries, I didn't dare to move a single muscle. 

Grinning as he demonstrated his power, Rajah tapped the werewolf on the nose. In response, he snapped his jaws, nearly taking his hand off. The other werewolves took this as their cue to attack. They bounded forward, all snarling and growling, but they never made it close enough to deal damage. Their bodies were halted by some invisible force, like puppets who had reached the ends of their strings.

With his hands lifted into the air, Rajah took a deep breath for theatrical effect. When he exhaled, the incapacitated wolves were thrown backwards as if swept away by a mighty gust of wind. Some of them yelped as they struck trees. Others tumbled further down the slope. A few collided with each other in the air.

Brushing his hands together, Rajah turned to look down at me. His dark brow lifted, and his full lips tugged into a smirk. "Don't tell me you're afraid of the big bad wolves?" he teased, with a faint Hindi accent.

"Rajah...how...why...what—" I struggled for words, unable to believe my eyes. The last time I saw Rajah, I had been an infant held in my brother's arms. We had passed him on our way out of the secluded cottage, where I had been born in only days before. Rajah had a young, handsome face, frozen in his early-twenties for eternity. One of my earliest memories was of the solitary vampire; his red eyes burning, furious and starving for revenge. Beneath all the rage, I saw the tormented soul, writhing in the flames and begging for the pain to end. My first memory was feeling not fear, but sadness.