Some thirty odd minutes later, we were all piled in to Emmett's not so modest Jeep. I'd ever so graciously accepted shotgun, on account of my injuries, and subsequently avoided getting completely squashed in the backseat. Ren did not look to comfortable, squashed in between Seth and Rosalie, and when she shot me a pained grimace, all I offered back was a shining grin. If she wanted me doted on like some china doll, then this was the price.

My two jailors comfortably squashed into the back, Teddy started the engine and pulled out of the engine, the sound of pebbles crunching our only send off.

Just watching the Cullen house disappear in the side mirror was enough to looses some of that tight steel coil that had been wound around my chest. Even though the bandages did their very best to keep the pressure tight, the mental relief was enough to have me sagging in my seat, a long breath snaking its way out of my lungs, slow and easy. Any pain I'd had joined my lover in the backseat, where I could neither bother to feel nor see it.

After a moment or two, I rolled the window down. It wasn't as if I'd left the vampires' company, only their lair. Even that was a small comfort, though.

The wind was gentle in my hair, ruffling it ever so slightly, sending cool touches through my roots, soothing the skin. The sun, despite our differences, was warm and gentle on my skin, a rare occurrence of daylight breaking through Fork's ever-present cloud cover. If I didn't know better, I would have almost called that moment peaceful, something stolen straight out of some fun and simple coming-of-age movie. It didn't take much for my imagination to spin the story of it, a group of friends heading out to enjoy adventure, all piled into a Jeep, ready for their road trip.

Or maybe this was some grotesque horror, and they were all heading into the maw of some creature even worse than the bunch of them.

With one hand, I reached out and turned the radio on, distracting myself by flipping through the channels, skipping commercials and boring, over-produced pop songs. At one point, I gave up, leaving the radio on some generic rock station. No one could say I had much of an education when it came to music, modern or old, so whatever I'd put on could have been a classic just as much as it could be trash. Oh, well, it sounded pleasing enough to me.

That small distraction spent, I just leaned back and watched the trees blur by at a speed that was far beyond any regular human's control or comprehension.

It was at the eleventh not-too-discreet look that Emmett cast my way that I finally gave in. "What?"

"So, are you high ranked? In your clan thing?"

"Why'd you ask?" Interest piqued, I watched him closely now.

"Oh, nothing, just wondered, since you talked about that other, uh, wolf you'd fought, and how she disrespected you and broke the law," the last part of his sentence took on a different gusto, as he obviously tried to imitate me, his voice rising and sounding ridiculously self—important and dramatic. Which I do not sound like, at all.

A snicker sounded in the back. By the time I'd turned around though, they were all innocently gazing out of their respective windows, obviously not listening to our conversation at all. Whatsoever. Nope. I leaned back in my seat again, ignoring the traitors behind my head, instead throwing my hands behind my head (and ignoring the twinge in my chest, as well), grinning. Okay, so maybe I was a bit smug.

What could I do about that, though? I obviously had good reason to. "Oh, honey, you are looking at the definition of high ranked. High Warrior Alexandria Nightshade, next in line for either leader- or councilship of the Seventh Clan of Warriors, at your service. I'm like, the most important wolf you could happen upon, Sparkles. Anyone higher up than me hasn't left Novea for decades."

"Yeah, I'm going to pretend I have any idea what you're talking about. Sounds cool, though," Emmett said, throwing a grin with an easy air to it that could rival even the most happy-go-lucky of people.

"Oaf," I muttered back, still in good humor.

Then suddenly, Ren leaned forward, at once both reaching out to change the channel, to which Teddy responded to by smacking her hand away and saying, "Wolf girl proved she's got good taste, don't you dare change it", and after throwing Teddy a betrayed look, turning to me. "What's a high warrior?"

"Each Clan, there are seven, by the way, has ten High somethings. Mine's Warriors, since we're the warrior clan. From this group of ten one leader is chosen, and the rest become a part of her council. Once we're all gray and wrinkled, if we live that long, we join the elders. So there's always one group of High Warriors, one of the High Council and it's leader, and of the Elders. I'm part of that first one, so we're all out and about, trying to prove ourselves to the Moon so that we maybe chosen leader of our clan. Not that I stand much of a chance doing that. Especially now." I said, wrinkling my nose, "by the way, Em, music was a completely random choice. Sorry to disappoint. Ah! Here we are!"

Even before the car had fully come to a halt, I was launching out the door, the others a bit slower to join me as I moved towards my home. At the doorway, I stopped, brushing my hand over some of the runes to deactivate them. Wouldn't do very well if my companions got turned away at my doorstep just because they didn't have an invitation, now did it?

Leaving the door open for them to follow, I made towards the landing, taking the stairs two steps at a time. Even just that small bit of movement felt good on my body, the energy it desperately needed to disperse abating just slightly. I made for my room, immediately drawing forth daggers from just about every possible nook and cranny in the modestly furnished bedroom, laying them all out on my duvet. I grabbed a short sword and its sheath and belt too, just because I felt the need to.

I hesitated in checking the nightstand drawer, some irrational fear whispering that my daggers would not be there when I would open it. If they were gone- no. Nope. Not thinking of that. It's not even an option.

After I'd discretely strapped blades to just about ever body part, and not so discreetly hung the short sword from my belt, I stood for a few moments, just staring at the small nightstand. The paint was flaking off, at one of the corners. Should definitely fix that, as soon as I got the chance. Keeping up with the care of my furniture was top priority, obviously. Very, very important. The first line of the High Warrior's creed, it was-

Luckily, I was saved from being further reduced to a coward by my nightstand, as the door swung open, and Rosalie waltzed in, making for my closet.

Scrambling out of her way, I took the final step to the tiny wooden structure, drew the drawer open as I drew a breath in, and found my daggers laying there.

As they would have been the whole time, of course.

I took another moment to slide them into my weathered boots, before turning to Rosalie. Who seemed to be fully content with not only upending the already mountainous pile of clothes on the floor, but the few pieces that were still within the aforementioned closet, in some semblance of order. She did it with an intensity, too. I almost felt a bit scared to disturb her, so instead I quietly dragged a bag from beneath my bed, and began carefully gathering clothing from her peripheral, giving them a quick sniff before I shoved them into the bag.

After gathering what could reasonably be called enough clean, or rather semi-clean, clothes for a two-day stay, I cleared my throat.

"Rosalie, would you mind, uh, telling me what you're doing? Not that I mind, it would have wound up in this state at one point or another but, um, not usually all at once and by someone who's not, you know, me?"

"I am obviously looking to see if you own anything even close to reasonable to wear. Which you don't. All you have are leisure clothes. Or athletic clothes. Or," and at this point, she shuddered, holding out one of my favorite tops at arm's length "athleisure."

"Hey! I happen to think that I own the perfect blend of comfort and sporty, for someone in my position."

"We will be going shopping. In the immediate future."

I groaned, flopping face-down on the bed, the few blades I couldn't fit onto my body bouncing across the duvet as I did.

"You're going to be worse than Bella, aren't you?"

"I'll do my best, ma'am," I mumbled into the soft bed, hopelessness leaching into me. First imprisonment, now torture? This had got to be against some law or convention or something. Maybe the Geneva one?

Another dozen minutes later, I was finally ready, bag in Seth's hands as he'd promptly protested when I'd come down the stairs with it slung across my shoulder, and a good two-inch stack of paper in my own hands. The remaining members of our daring adventuring party had done their very best to both completely upheave all furnishings and items in my house, as well as readily criticizing it all as they did so, but I finally managed to chase them all out. We piled into the car and set off again.

Only this time, I begged Emmett to stop the car only seven minutes into our journey, as we came upon a store I'd spotted on our way to my house.

"Let's make just one more small stop. I've got a revenge to deliver, after all," I grinned at them, once again taking the lead out of the car.