Emma's POV

It took a moment in my sluggish drunken response time to begin to struggle, and a minute longer than that for my instinct to phase to rear up.

I shut my eyes tightly and tried to shift.

And remained feebly human.

I tried again. Nothing.

I focused all my strength and energy into imagining my wolf body to punish Brad the date rapist beyond his wildest dreams.

But I stayed nothing more than a girl in his steel grip as he pulled me through the sparse woods and into what looked like a pre-fabricated garage plopped in the middle of it all.

"Let's see it."

Was this his idea of foreplay? Because that didn't really grease the wheels for me. I almost never refer to my naked form as "it."

I backed away from him and glared hatefully.

He sighed. "You're going to make this hard for me aren't you?"

What the FUCK. Was he like… dirty talking? Had he never seen a porno? I was so monumentally not turned on by this and now I hated him so my revenge fuck was out the window. This night was going right down the shitter at the speed of sound.

He crossed the small space, pulled his arm back, and cracked me across the cheek with his fist.

I was sent reeling and fell to the floor, reaching up and pressing my palm to my face where a lump was already forming. This was so not right. It should be healing, not developing a golf ball under my eye.

And then I thought about my bloody knees, and how they should have coagulated in seconds, but kept streaming O Positive long after the expected wolf recovery time.

My blood. The very essence of my body, my heritage. The reason I was even able to shift in the first place… thinned and changed, absorbing foreign properties by the alcohol.

They should really put warnings on the labels for this kind of thing. Should not be consumed by pregnant mothers. Do not operate heavy machinery. Lowers inhibitions and judgment. May cause temporary sluttiness with hot, sociopathic strangers. And impedes wolfishness.

Mother fuck, how was I supposed to fight off a sex offender and wife beater as a LADY?

"Hey, um, are you ok?"

Mood swings much? HELLO, you're the one who hit me. I didn't look at him and stayed very still on the ground. I thought about A Christmas Story when the bully's picking on Ralphie and his brother… "Randy laid there like a slug, it was his only defense." I equate human femininity to a dopey little fat kid who gets ambushed on the playground.

"I don't think it's her," Brad, who I immediately renamed Chester (as in… the molester) said to no one in particular.

Softly, I heard a door open and I realized that there were two rooms in the pre-fab, and someone was walking into our half. I trained my eyes on the floor and stayed frozen.

"Hit her again," another man's voice responded with a faint French lilt.

"I'm not gonna hit her if it's the wrong girl. I don't want to hurt anyone." Um, a little late, says the welt on my cheek.

"Then you're the wrong man for the job," Frenchy said back.

I felt a sharp kick in my back that lifted me up from the floor and then slammed me back down, making me yelp in pain when my head smashed into the concrete.

"My God," Frenchy gasped. "You look just like her."

I cracked an eye then, and started calling Frenchy "Bob Marley" in my head because all I could make out were his dreadlocks. Bob Marley and Chester the Molester. A motley fucking crew if ever I saw one.

"You're a touch more… ethnic looking, though." Than who, Vanna fucking White? I craned my neck up and hissed at him.

Bob chuckled. "It's ok, child, you're prettier than she. But she smelled better. No offense. Nothing in the world compares to her scent. She's… dessert. And you smell a bit like a wet dog."

He leaned over me, raking me with interested eyes and I could see him working out some equation in his head. "The math is just about right for her to be your mother."

I scrambled as far away from him as I could get, pressing my back into the wall of the sizable shed and ignoring the dull pains shooting through various parts of my body. My spine, my cheek, my back… everything was singing with ache.

Bob walked over to me and gently ran a thumb over the swollen bulb on my face. I realized then that Chester had broken the skin, because when Bob took his hand away, there was blood on his fingers. He slipped each one individually into his mouth and sucked the red liquid away. Fucking leech. How did I miss this? I've spent far too much time in the presence of vampires if I can't sniff one out when I'm whorishly kissing it. Cuervo or no Cuervo, that shit was bananas; I should have known better.

"Decidedly lupine," he smiled around the thumb between his lips before removing it with a popping sound. "She's the one, Garrett."

Chester breathed a sigh of relief.

"So tell us, little one, why do you stay human? You've been turned wolf with much less provocation than this, have you not? Or perhaps I should get Edward in here and try to kiss him. That seems to really push your buttons."

Oh fuck me. These nincompoops belonged to Tanya.

"I'm curious as to who your father is, though. I'm told shape-shifting is in the lineage, no? And your mother… she's no more than human."

So… did my mom fuck every vamp in North America?

"You know my mother?" I had wanted so badly to maintain a code of silence but when he threw mommy dearest into the mix it piqued my curiosity far too much for me to ignore.

Bob laughed quietly on an inhale. "Not nearly as well as I would have liked to. We had a brief encounter many years ago, when she was the Cullens' pet. Interestingly enough, that trait, too, seems genetic." Bob smiled cruelly. "I was with a small clan of nomads travelling through the area. We had a… bit of a skirmish when our leader tried to kill your mother. It seemed he was put off by Edward's devotion to her. I backed off, not wanting to challenge such a large coven… and, in summation, your Edward killed our leader. To save your mother's life, of course."

I slid down the wall a few my inches and felt my head loll off to the side. I was dizzy with the revelation. It was so much more than I ever needed to know.

Bob could tell. "I can see that this is all news to you. In a way, it's news to me, too. I had no idea that the evil hell beast was Bella's child. It makes things much more interesting. Is she well?"

I remained quiet and motionless.

"Perhaps I'll have to pay her a visit while I'm in town." He licked his lips greedily.

I raised my middle finger at him.

"Laurent," Garrett interrupted Bob (who evidently had a name also, go figure)'s mental masturbation over my mom's blood, "she's just a kid. This whole thing is ridiculous. She hasn't even phased! We ought to just go home."

"Yes," Laurent began, "why is that, do you suppose?" He turned his attention back to me. "I know what you're capable of when you become a dog. Don't you even have enough dignity to defend yourself?"

I said nothing.

"I suppose not. You're content with mommy's sloppy seconds for romance, that's a big indication of your worthlessness. You sprang forth to deter Tanya's advances on Edward but when your very life is threatened, you do nothing? It's pathetic, really. You live for him, and nothing more? You sad, simpering little girl."

Oh please. I wasn't going to let some Rastafarian bloodsucker reverse psychol-ege me. I kicked Edward in the junk and ran away. I'm not sad or simpering, and I'm really only a girl half the time. Nothing he said affected me. Douche.

Clearly I'm a vampire magnet, I thought to him lazily, sending a mental Polaroid of Cheech and Chong along with it. I'd appreciate if you'd call off the dogs, though. Especially considering I can't be one until I sober up.

I didn't know exactly what they wanted from me, but my best guess was that they were fixing for a fight. I can't count the number of times Emmett had suggested something quite similar. His version usually ended in Jell-O, but had the same basic principles. These idiots were a little more violent about it, though.

"You're really taking all the fun out of it," Laurent drawled. "I wanted to destroy a monster, not kill a human. I can do that any old time."

Garrett shot him a sharp glare. It was then I realized that Laurent's eyes were indeed a dark ruby. Garrett's were black.

"Well, not any old time. Just on vacation. Without Irina to be held accountable to… what's the saying? While the cat is away…" he shrugged and trailed off.

It was starting to make sense. They were part of the Denali coven, a family of "vegetarians," but it didn't seem like they were too strict about it. Or Laurent wasn't at least. Garrett clearly hadn't fed in quite some time.

The Buffalo Soldier watched as the realization clicked in my face. He smiled a wide creepy grin that belonged on a pedophile at a playground. "I cheat."

"Don't they all," I whispered under my breath. Oops. Open mouth, insert foot.

"Has your vampire been untrue?" Laurent exclaimed gleefully.

"Um no, he totally loves me. I meant on the SAT. Mind-reading and shit."

"You lie," he brought his face inches from mine, I could smell his sickly sweet stench.

"So sue me." Ahh, the old standby circa fifth grade. Good one, Emma.

I was starting to sweat. Stuck in this body with two vampires of dubious origin, one who had made a breezy comment in passing about destroying me, I wasn't exactly doing my fucking happy dance.

"He doesn't love you," Laurent pushed a lock of hair away from my face and brought his mouth uncomfortable close to mine. I resisted the urge to recoil. "He loved your mother."

Do I have a "kick me" sign on my back that I don't know about? Jesus, twist that knife a little harder, reggae man!

He was guessing and reading my body language and it was supposed to bother me because he was poking my sore spot. I know how it works. I kept my composure and rolled my eyes. I felt like maintaining my nonchalance was the only way to get out of this; the second he could sense my discomfort I'd be done.

"We like to keep it in the family. She's too old now. I inherited him. He's an heirloom."

"Comedian. I like that. But your humor is clearly a defense mechanism to combat your disgrace." He clucked his tongue and shook his head in mock sadness.

"Stop running your fucking mouth, Ziggy. You don't even know what you're talking about."

He smiled curiously at me, like lunch had never sassed him before.

"Besides, how am I supposed to take you seriously when you get bitched around by a woman? Irina, I believe you said her name was…? Humans have a phrase for guys like you… pussy-whipped."

His teeth snapped together and he was visibly enraged. "You know not of what you speak," he growled at me. Oops again. I'd only wanted to show him that I wasn't scared, not challenge him to a throw-down when I was presently nothing more than 125 pounds of vagina. Maybe I should have thought twice about messing with the bull when I wasn't quite ready for the horns. He backhanded me so hard I fell back to the floor and spat out blood. An incisor on the left wiggled when I touched it with my tongue.

Taking another step towards me, Laurent reached out and grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling me to my feet and pressing his nose to my throat, breathing deeply, gruffly.

Ok, it's less fun now.

"Fight," Laurent whispered roughly.

I couldn't, obviously. Anything I could throw down would be pathetic and laughable against him. By only my hair and the collar of my shirt, he pushed me across the room at vampire speed and bashed my skull into the wall. I saw spots and might have even lost consciousness for a few seconds; every part of me throbbed.

"I'd at least hoped this would be entertaining. I can't believe I was so excited for nothing. All I get to do is drain a human. Something I've done countless times."

Drain, eh? That was never part of Emmett's plan either. Things had seemed to go downhill real fast about then.

They're going to kill me. My hand hovered over the pocket when my lifeless cell phone rested. I never thought I'd want to hear from him again. I never imagined that I'd be the kind of girl who needs saving.

Laurent noticed my hand, he reached forward and pulled the pocket off of my jeans, catching the phone before it could fall to the floor.

He laughed. "What were you going to do? Call 911? Your precious Edward? I could end your life faster than you could hit the send button, you silly little bitch." Making a fist, he crushed the phone in his grasp.

"I wish you would change for me. Wolf's on the diet. The females would be pleased with my compliance," he mused. "And you're less… mangy than wild animals." An almost forlorn look crossed his face.

I glanced over at Garrett, who looked decidedly occupied by the patterns in the floor. It seemed there was a little dissention between them, and I had a feeling it was related to Garrett's abstinence from blood while Laurent had clearly fed on humans recently. I decided to try and play it up. Crudely and without any grace, of course, as was my nature.

"Hey, you let this shit-for-brains jerk chicken call all the shots around here?" I questioned.

Garrett met my gaze.

"Are you a slave to icy vamp vag too? Because it's clear that you're here on someone else's clock. Is this about Tanya's recent dismemberment? Have you come to avenge her? Tell that fucking cunt to man up and fight her own battles. I'd love to sink my teeth into her ass again."

"Keep talking, you are merely digging your grave deeper," Laurent whispered to me.

"I wasn't speaking to you, mon." He grabbed my forearm and snapped a bone in it. Maybe both, I couldn't tell.

Everything in me wanted to wail in pain, but my pride was somehow stronger. My eyes scrunched closed and I might have bit the tip off of my tongue, but I didn't say shit about it to the wanker.

Great. As if the deck wasn't stacked high enough against me in that it was two versus one, supernatural versus pathetic human, and men versus woman… now I only had one arm.

Laurent was getting angrier with each of my passing heartbeats. I could tell my novelty was wearing off and I was minutes away from desanguination. I shut my eyes.

"Open them, girl. I want you to watch until you pass out." He stomped down on my foot; I felt the tarsels crumble to dust.

Soon, I thought to him. The word meant many things at once; soon I would die, soon he wouldn't have to choose, soon the nightmare would be over.

It was almost welcoming. I revisited the idea I'd had in the forest about letting it end, how easy it would be to just… stop being. No pain, suffering, sorrow. But I shook it off because I'm a fighter by nature, I'm tougher than that… whatever the "that" is, I know I am. Death as a means of escape was something I'd never actively seek out, but it seemed almost apropos now. I would never have to deal with the mess that was created long before I was born, something I'd accidentally stumbled into and tangled myself in beyond extraction. What's the word for it? Serendipity. Destruction at the hands of a stranger isn't exactly most people's definition, but I was sort of looking at it as my fate. This is what was meant to happen.

Laurent stepped forward and placed a hand at the base of my neck, running the other back up into my hair and pulling sideways, tilting my throat to him.

Goodbye.

"Hello?"

Laurent's fingers tightened everywhere he touched me. He whipped around to face the voice calling from the entryway.

"Oh hey guys. The door was open. Hope you don't mind…?" He stepped across the threshold and strolled over to lean against the wall with his hands in his pockets, the portrait of nonchalance.

"You have no place here," Laurent growled, digging his nails into my skin with one hand while the other yanked my hair, pulling my line of sight to the ceiling and away from my knight in shining luxury sedan.

Well this was an interesting development.

"I suggest you unhand the lady." I couldn't see him, but his tone implied inappropriate casualness, like he was shrugging or disinterestedly examining his nail beds.

"This is no lady." Laurent brought his face to my chest and inhaled deeply.

"Oh and Tanya is? The Denali girls are nothing more than common whores, don't pretend for a second that you mean anything to them. Idiots to do their dirty work, that's all you are."

With his eyes on Edward, Laurent stuck out his tongue and slowly licked across the arches of my collarbones. "I can think of less desirable tasks." I choked back vomit and clenched my hands into fists as tightly as I could.

It took me a second to realize that I was actually making fists with both hands. Surprised, I flexed them again and came to the conclusion that wolves didn't get hangovers. My high body temperature must have burned off the alcohol at an unprecedented speed; my arm was no longer broken and I was no longer a useless lump of shit waiting to be saved like some douchey damsel in distress.

I got to be the hero.

Who called you anyway?

I heard him chuckle and pictured him shaking his head in disbelief. Well it was true, wasn't it? I didn't ask for any help.

Get ready for something special.

With that, I burst out of form and less than a second, Laurent had only fistfuls of hackles in his grip.

I growled and he turned to face me. The look of sheer horror on his face was priceless, like the kid in Stand By Me when he realized he had leeches hanging from his nutsack. I took a mental snapshot to show Edward.

Then I fucking bit that cock knocker's head off.

No joke, I just opened my mouth and decapitated that dirty son of a bitch.

It tasted fucking terrible so I spit it right back out and it rolled across the floor until it landed face-up at Edward's feet, the unseeing eyes frozen in shock.

Edward didn't move. He sort of just stared at it for a second and then brought his face to mine.

"Did you seriously just do that?"

In response, I kicked the headless corpse that lay before me.

"Holy fucking shit." Garrett. I had forgotten about him.

Ask him if he wants a piece of me.

Edward laughed under his breath.

Do it!

He turned to Garrett. "If you want to fight, I'm sure that could be arranged. But I think it would be better for all of us if we could resolve this peacefully," Edward offered.

That's not what I fucking said, ask him if he wants a PIECE of ME!

"And, um, Emma would like to know if you… want… a piece of her?"

"God, no," Garrett breathed. "I… I just want to go home. It was all Laurent, really, I never wanted to hurt her. I swear, I never would have let it get this far if it was up to me. I came because Kate asked me to, Tanya's sister… but I'm not going back to Alaska. Those broads are trouble."

Amen.

Let him go.

"Are you sure?" Edward asked quizzically. Admittedly, it was very out of character for me. There are few things I love more than vigilante justice. But I sort of believed him. And fucking guillotining ass-basket vampires is a really good way to work out your aggressions. I was feeling benevolent.

Yes. He's a good kisser.

Edward winced.

Fuck you.

He nodded once like "fair enough" and motioned towards the door. "Go. Don't make me sorry for having mercy on you. I don't ever want to see you here again."

Garrett scrambled for the door, thankful for the second chance.

You didn't have mercy on shit, I'm the fate-maker around here. Tell him to call me some time.

"No."

Do it or I'll string your balls and wear them as a necklace.

"I won't do it."

"What does she want?" Garrett asked trepidaciously from the doorway.

Tell him I want to watch you guys makeout.

Edward barked out a laugh. "Just go, Garrett, before she changes her mind," he tacked on the last part ominously, like I was asking for maiming dismemberment, not some sexy gay shit.

Garrett stepped out the door and I reverted to human form, running after him. "Call me!" I shouted at his disappearing backside, long gone before I glanced down at my body and added "I look good naked!" The sentiment echoed off the trees and bounced around 3 times before it faded away.

Edward sighed heavily behind me.

In that moment I began to really resent his presence. I didn't fucking ask him to come here. I was just… bidding my farewells at the end of my life. Right then, I thanked any god who would listen that I hadn't done something shitty like tell him I loved him right before I died… that would have been really embarrassing.

"You shouldn't have come here," I said quietly, crossing my arms over my breasts and looking away from him.

"I will always come when you need me."

I wanted to make some scathing remark about always coming in my mom, too, but I found that to be in poor taste and decided to go with: "I don't need you. Ever." in its stead.

"Emma, you would have died!" he argued.

"Um what room were you in? Because I'm pretty sure I handled it. You just stood there like people furniture. But good job on that, Laz-E-Boy."

He sighed again, exasperated.

"Stop fucking doing that. You don't even need to breathe. It's irritating and overly dramatic." Everything Edward did was overly dramatic. His entire existence was like The Hills on steroids.

He was quiet after that.

"I trust you will take care of this," I gestured to the Laurent pieces.

He nodded solemnly.

"And give me your clothes." Mine had shredded in the transformation. Again.

And would you believe he fucking did it? Started stripping down right then and there. Took off everything but his underwear and handed it to me. What a bitch. I guess the reasoning was that he owed me a little more than the literal shirt off his back.

My vagina growled at me, animalistic, when my eyes touched each individually compartmented muscle of his stomach. I told her to get some fucking self respect and shut up. I slid into the pants and button down shirt; he watched me the whole time wordlessly.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you."

I let the statement hang in the air for a little while.

Knowing Edward, the scenario in his head went a little like this: I, no more than a silly woman, land myself in mortal danger, he swoops in and saves the day, I am wildly appreciative for his valiancy, he takes me in his arms, dips me, and kisses me like he means it, they all live happily ever after. He's so predictable in that way… just your average, everyday romantic hero looking for someone to rescue.

It kind of throws a wrench in his plans that I'm the baddest bitch in town.

I turned away from him and headed for the door. As I put a foot over the threshold, he spoke to my back.

"It's you, Emma."

I didn't move.

"If I have to choose, it's you."

Well ain't that some shit.