tongue twister • paul lahote

vii

T H E N I G H T W A S black, damp, and soundless. The town of Forks was suffering a grief that was mixed with terror. There were so many questions left unanswered. What had murdered Darren Crowley? Where was his daughter? What was happening in the town next to them? Nobody had answers, except for the families of the supernatural nature. Santana was adapting. She hadn't been used to vampires like the Cullens. She was used to nasty, violent, sociopaths. Now, she had terrible pains. Withdrawal from human blood was almost like a drug withdrawal for humans, but ten times worse, and a hundred times more painful. Her senses were overloaded. Animal blood was bleak, and bland. Almost not worth the effort. Though, the chase was almost as thrilling as the hunt for a person. She decided she would try the lifestyle before rejecting it. After all, being part of a family was better than being alone.

She had mentioned she had wanted to see Paul, but Carlisle had mentioned it might be too painful for her and the boy just yet. Jacob had healed well. His advanced metabolism allowed his bones to mend much faster than a normal human being. Nobody but Sam knew about Santana's whereabouts. He was the best at hiding his thoughts from the other wolves. He could keep it until the time was right. Due to his knowledge, Sam Uley had halted the search for Santana's body; no reason was given. He just said that for the time being, it would be a waste of their time and energy.

Paul was still distraught. His body suffered a weakness like no other. When a Wolf is separated from an imprint, their body ached like a sickness.He had no drive to live despite work with the others. He felt as though his life was pointless. The other members of the pack believed that Santana was dead, but Paul knew better. He still experienced the yearn, the pull that drove him to her. He believed that once his mate died, he would no longer experience those types of feelings. Though he did not know it, they would be reconnected in a very short period of time.

The vampire clan was anxious for the reconciliation. They did not know how Paul would react. He was severely tempered. The knowledge that his love was immortal may not settle well with him. On the other hand, Santana's internal mechanisms might not allow her to fight her urge to kill him. She was a newborn vampire. Resisting urges would be a lot more difficult for her. It may even physically pain her, but Carlisle believed that love may be the key factor to bury her raw emotion.

So then the morning came. Birds chirped in ignorant bliss. Butterflies fluttered through the dewy morning air. The dirt on the ground was dark, the gravel coating it was cold. The grass surrounding it was soaked, radiating its fresh color. In the distant horizon, paws pounded the ground, echoing in the vampires ears. On the front porch of the Cullen's home, Carlisle, Edward, Esme and Emmett stood tall. Their prominent, golden eyes glazed over in anticipation. Sam and Paul were on their way. They would be here within minutes. That day was the day they would enlighteH Paul with the truth. The four stood as protection, but not defensively. They didn't want to alarm the two wolves. They wanted to be as docile as they could be. They understood the pain that would ensue within a matter of time, and they just wanted to help ease it.

First in the yard was a large, black dog. He greeted them with a grunt. Sam would stay in his wolf form. He did not fully trust this family, but he needed to be here to help his brother through this. Behind him ran a shirtless boy. Tall, with his beauty glowing in the rising sun. His dark hair framed his forehead. His brown eyes cast with uncertainty, and his body was held in a defensive position.

"What do you want?" His words were harsh, but not evil. He had no idea why he had been called here, or why Sam was so insistent on his going. Carlisle gave him a sad smile. His eyes were not telling him anything. Sam let out a low growl at his aggression. He needed Paul to be calm before he saw what he was going to.

"We have something for you to see." Carlisle spoke gently. Paul's stomach plummeted. His palms broke out into a sweat and his heart ached. He thought they found her body. His heart pulled him towards the house. he believed she would be in there, dead maybe, or badly injured.

"Is it her?" He whimpered. His confidence was shattered, he was vulnerable, and his hurt was projected like a poster board.

"He thinks shes dead." Edward spoke, low.

"Do not read my thoughts." The boy spat. Sam, again, let out a grunt.

"She's not dead, she's..." Carlisle trailed off in his thoughts, not knowing what to tell him. "I'll let you see for yourself. The aged vampire called her name. The name was so sweet to Paul's ears, but brought him a new wave of dread. If she wasn't dead, or too hurt to walk, then what was the problem?

His heart skipped as he saw a head of fawn brown hair appear in the doorway. That's all he could see. The other vampires blocked his vision. He strained his neck to look around them, but they hadn't moved. He still could not see her. He caught a glimpse of her cheek. It was pale, but flawless. He thought no more of it, as she was normally so pale she looked ill. Yet this, this was a different kind of pale. Like a porcelain doll. The cheekbone was dusted with a dark color, perfectly framing the shape of her face. A blonde head appeared beside her, closer than she would have been before she was missing. She appeared to be holding her hand.

Paul's heart was erratic. It was beating so fast his stomach was churning. He could feel it in his toes. Edward shared a glance with his 'father' and he nodded. "You have to stay calm. It may scare her. This will be just as hard on her as it is for you." The blonde man said. Paul's nose twitched in annoyance. He wished they would just get out of his way so he could see her. In this time, Sam had inched closer to him. Paul could feel Sam's breath on his shoulder.

"Can you just move? I'm ready." He assured them. Carlisle gave him a glance that made him rethink his words. He made a move to step out of the way, the other three vampires that had greeted them followed suit. As the sunlight was let onto her skin, he noticed an unusual sparkle. This made him swallow hard. His throat was dry, and scratched as he did so.

His knees gave out, and he placed a hand on Sam to keep him from falling over. A gasp left his parted lips, followed by a weak cry of agony. His heart stopped racing, it felt like someone reached in and grabbed it, and twisted it inside his body. His breath escaped him, and he wheezed, sadly. His grasp on Sam had not been tight enough, and he stumbled onto his knees. He shook his head as a tear dropped from his eye. It traveled down his face and landed on the ground in front of him. The vampires watched him, their unique empathetic ability caused them to feel his pain. Santana, unwillingly and personally, felt his agony. She grabbed at her chest. Her still heart also experienced the pain he felt. Her stomach was sick with grief for this boy.

Paul looked up from the earth and his eyes landed on her beautiful face. He wanted to see her lips, her cheeks with the rosy tint that they usually held. Instead, he saw white. No blood in her veins to allow the color to stay. His eyes settled onto hers. Another tear fell. He was completely silent, barely breathing. The eyes, the ones he loved so much. They were gone, replaced by the eyes of a murderer. Replaced by the eyes of a creature he was born to kill. The edges, they were turning a golden color, that comforted him. But the pupils, made him nauseous. The pupils were surrounded with a blazing red ring, the color of blood. His imprint, his Santana, the love of his life was not dead; he knew that this was much worse. The girl was a vampire. The small impurities that used to litter her face. Her freckles, the acne scars from her adolescence, were all replaced with absolute perfection, not a flaw in sight. He began to see red. His bones ached with blind rage, his skin prickled with anger. He wanted to do one thing. One thing that he knew he absolutely shouldn't. He wanted to kill.