Back on her feet, Bella, who had taken a nasty clawing to the stomach, watched in the same fascination she had once watched with when she was on the sidelines and Peter and Charlotte sparred in the backyard. It was almost mesmerizing to watch the way Peter moved a body made of stone. She wasn't blind. She could see the newest additions to his already impressive collection of scars, but those weren't what held her attention.

She was so focused on him after his abrupt appearance, she noticed what others did not. He wasn't as fluid as he should be. He wasn't himself, that much was clear. He was slow on recovery, his movements were choppy. He was ripping people apart left and right, but it looked to Bella like it was more adrenaline and tunnel vision than it was actual thought.

The actual reality of the situation, however, was the exact opposite. While she wasn't wrong about him not being completely up to par, that didn't mean shit. He had taken on countless others in worse shape than he was currently in, and if he could kill his sire with literally one arm, he could kill this swarm of pests without either of them.

What his lack of care about who he killed came down to was, since Peter wasn't present when the fight started, he had no idea who the fuck belonged to who; who was friend and who was foe. All he knew was his mate was present, she was hurt, and there were a whole lot of fucking bodies that needed to be dealt with. If they they were close to him, it meant they were too close to her, which made them no friend of his.

Speaking of no friend of his...

When his black eyes landed on his grandsire, an idea popped into his head to endure there would be no fucking retreat. Glancing behind him, seeing Randall back on his own feet after he dropped the bastard on his ass, Peter blew a high pitched whistle to catch his attention and jerked his head, seeing the nod from his adopted childe.

Randall, rubbing his neck where Peter nearly crushed his throat, cleared the roughness from his voice before grabbing Bella by the arm and pulling her along with him. "Time to move, Munchkin." At the startled 'what' from the girl as she fell into step with him, Randall grinned down at her. "He has something up his sleeve, but he's not going to let you out of his sight, either. Stay on his ass, because he's likely to kick yours if you don't."

Glancing up at Randall, Bella bit back the whimper that was clawing its way up her throat from when she was clawed across the stomach. She didn't know who it was that did it, but she didn't expect the kind of pain that came with it. She was so focused on the pain in her stomach, she hadn't realized not only has she caught up with Peter, but that he was off again, his own sights set on who was, prior to this moment, the last person he wanted anything to do with.

What brought Bella out of her fogged stupor was watching as Peter morphed into someone she almost didn't recognize. His face was void of anything that resembled the man she knew as his arm hooked around the arm of a female, his body once again made of water as he completely defied physics itself in the way he twisted around, taking the female over his hip and slamming in her face into the unforgiving ground.

One foot planted in the dirt while his other knee was firmly pressed into his grandsire's spine, Peter grabbed a fistfull of Maria's hair an bent her in half backward over his leg, a deep chuckle slipping past his lips at the scream that tore from hers. So many times in his younger years did he dream of this moment, picture in his mind what would happen when or if he ever got his hands on this bitch. He never once relished in harming a female, but in the case of this one, he would make a fucking exception.

The ease in which he could end her left him salivating, his fingers tangled in her hair twitching and tingling, his teeth set on edge as he fought back instinct for the first time in his life not to sink them into her neck and take her head as a trophy. Every molecule of his body demanded the head of this whore, demanded she die for everything she had done, but in this moment, the only thing that saved her was he needed her alive.

As his mate, Randall, and some other little pissant Peter had never met took up a place around him, keeping anyone that would have thought to step in at bay, Peter once again chuckled, but this one held an edge that sliced its way down the spines of everyone that heard it. "What's it like, Maria, ta find ya life held in the hands a someone else? Ta be scared ta breathe, scared ta move? Ta not know iffin you gonna live, or if taday the day you die just cause you in the wrong damn place at the wrong fuckin' time?"

Maria felt her scalp begin to pull away from her skull, another scream given life when Peter's wrist twitched. Eyes slanted to the vampire that took everything from her once upon a time, she hissed. "I never should have humored my major and let you live."

Peter just snorted. "A misstep I'm sure he regrettin' hisself from his place in Hell right now." Leaning in closer to her, he lowered his voice as he spoke in her ear. "If I can kill my own maker, don't think I won't do the same damn thing ta you if ya don't do exactly what I say."

Growling in the back of her throat, Maria made her choice. "I don't take orders from you."

Peter, however, just grinned. "Wanna bet?"

There was a sick sense of pleasure on Peter's part when he jerked his arm back, a screamed out submission from his grandsire bouncing off the bodies that were nearest them. He wasn't sure if she remembered or not, but this was how their first interaction went when he woke up from his change.

However, the difference between this time and last time was he didn't let her go like she had released him. Instead, he held the same amount of tautness on her hair as he smiled at her. "You the one that put ya nose where it didn't belong, so now you gonna gather up whateva little bastards belong ta ya, and you gonna cut off exits. There ain't gonna be no retreats and there as hell ain't gonna be no more interference. Anya them little demons a yers that get in my way gonna die, and if ya leave, I'll huntcha down like a fuckin' dog and kill ya just like I killedja precious Major." Pulling her head back just a little more, he locked his coal black eyes on Maria's wide red ones, he teeth snapping a whisper from the tip of her nose. "Welcome ta my army, Bitch."

It was then he let his grandsire go, staying in his crouched position as Maria scrambled away from him, the back of her hand against her lower back where she had been bent in half. Rolling over and propping herself up by her other hand on the ground behind her, there was another hiss from her. "There is no way you killed Jasper. You're not that good."

A brow slowly slid up to hide behind Peter's bangs as he held his arms out to the side, almost proudly displaying the newest scars that littered is body, knowing the moment the past clicked in his grandsire's eyes when they fell on what could be considered a signature; the slice to his side. While his wasn't nearly as cleanly made as Maria was used to seeing, once upon a time, it was Jasper's favorite means of murder. External fires could be put out, though still caused a lot of damage, but a fire that raged inside your body? That couldn't, and a match or lighter inside your chest or abdomen, where the greatest concentration of venom was, would have a vampire's body nothing but ashes in less than thirty minutes. It was quick, dirty, and meant the fire didn't need babysat to make sure it wasn't found before something that resembled a human body was gone.

Even as he stood there, arms out to the side, a smirk on his lips as he stared down the Devil's favorite whore that destroyed any chance he could have had at having something of a normal afterlife, self assured as he always was, he was in more pain than he could ever remember being in. He hadn't lied to his girl way back when about vampires still having live nerves throughout their stone bodies, and his were still on fucking fire. Though his skin was sealed and he was no longer losing venom, it was tight and burned with every movement.

He wasn't a bitch though, and even on his death bed wouldn't like this whore see him so much a wince.

The implication of that 8 inch scar finally broke through Maria's flat refusal to believe her Major was able to die and stole her breath, a white hot jealousy sliding down her spine at the proof someone else was able to succeed where she had failed. Not many knew, and she wouldn't admit, that when he was a newborn, before his empathy manifested in a way that could actually be controlled, she had tried several times to destroy him, but was never able to. Then this mother fucker comes along, gets in one actual fight with him, and walks away from what she turned Jasper into after she became convinced Jasper couldn't die.

She really did hate this particular son of a bitch.

Her eyes locked on his, Maria slowly climbed to her feet, her sneer still on her lips. "You think you're so impressive, Captain. You believe that you standing here means anything more than luck on your part. Luck always runs out, and when yours does, it'll be me you see standing above you ready to drop a match on your withering, rotting carcass."

Peter's entire stance changed, every molecule of his body relaxing under the weight of Maria's hate filled eyes. His smirk widened and eyes brightened as humor entered his voice that was anything but civil. "Naw, Maria. It ain't got shit ta do with luck. I'm just that damn good." Then, as she had done to him so many times, Peter flicked his fingers at her in the same degrading dismissal she had always given him when he was younger.

Peter's eyes stayed locked on Maria's retreating form, not reacting at all when he felt someone come to stand behind him. He still didn't let her out of his sights when he heard Randall's voice float past his ear, just grinned wider at what he heard.

"You do know she's not going to do what you wanted her to, right?"

A deep chuckle slipped past Peter's lips as he crossed his arms, his teeth glistening in the dying rays of the setting sun. "The fuck she ain't." Turning his head and casting a glance down at his adopted childe, Peter cocked a brow at him. "She ain't gonna have a choice."

Randall, taking in the look in Peter's eyes, puckered his lips, having caught on real quick to what wasn't said. Casting a quick look to Bella, who was looking back and forth between him and her mate, he then hummed before turning his head and catching sight of Maria's still retreating form, his mind working in overtime to work out how long he could feasibly do what Peter wanted. There were a lot of bodies to figure into the equation because he still needed a decent amount of concentration for this particular trick, but it wasn't impossible. Looking around, he found what he was going to need and nodded at Peter, his eyes black as he began to build his power. "I can give you thirty minutes."

Not looking away from Randall, Peter nodded as he held one hand back to his mate, calming further once he felt her skin touch his. Pulling Bella right up next to him, he spoke to Randall. "I only need ten."

Shifting his eyes to a very concerned looking Bella, Randall grinned at the clearly confused newborn, a chuckle in his voice. "See ya on the other side, Munchkin."

No longer caring about the stupid nickname, and not knowing what was going on, Bella tried to sow something that looking like confidence, but her voice shook when she tried to talk. "Be careful, Randy."

There was a hard snort from the vampire as he began to walk backwards. "But where's the fun in that?"

Blinking as Randall turned and began to run the other direction, Bella's brows drew down as she looked up at Peter. "Are you sure you weren't drunk and just don't remember biting him?"

Cutting his eyes to the running male, a look of contemplation flitted across Peter's face before he shrugged. "That would explain so much shit." Then, he twisted his body, pulled Bella closer, dipped his head, and captured her lips with his. The sound of her surprised moaned gasp was all he heard in that moment, her scent engulfing him and covering everything else.

There were no screams, no stench of burning vampire venom. There was just his mate's moan and spiced vanilla. There was no war waging, there was just her, and when all was finally said and done, there would only ever just be her until the day Peter's luck finally did run out.