Fanfiction Writer’s Revenge
By Montana
: I don't own the characters,
LKH does. Lucky Duck. And i'm not making any money either. nice try.
A/N: This is kinda sorta a
sequel fic to my other fic afraid of the dark.-Montana
Anita
Anita Anita. Her curly dark hair flings around us as I push inside her and her
small hands dig into my shoulders while her lips meet mine. All I can see is
that mass of wonderfully curly hair and her brown eyes. I know I don’t want to
see anything else.
I woke with a start and a hot
sweat beading on my skin. My heart throbbed in my chest as if…but I had been
sleeping. Dreaming. About Anita. A glance to the side of me revealed Donna
still lying on her side facing me, but not asleep. Both eyes were open,
watching me. Had I said something in my sleep? Shit. The wedding was tomorrow,
and I was having wet dreams about Anita. Double shit.
“Are you alright, sugar? You’re
all sweaty like you’re sick or somethin’. Nervous about tomorrow?”
I shook my head no. “I’m
fine…ah…honey pot. Go back to sleep,” I said, getting out of bed and heading
into the bathroom. I made sure to lock the door as well. As I ran some cold
water into the sink and splashed it in my face I looked up to the mirror. All I
could see was Anita, my soul mate. With dripping wet fingers I reached out to
touch the glace. It did not bend and Anita did not step out of the image. It
was just a cold hard mirror, and I saw my own reflection again.
Shaking my head, I told myself,
“Pull yourself together, Edward.” I glanced down with a raised eyebrow, but
couldn’t exactly give jr. the order to settle down as well. 11:00 was
definitely too early for a morning wood. Yep, I was hiding in here from Donna
for a little while. That was odd all in its own.
I decided to take a shower, and
still, all that filled my thoughts was Anita. The way she laughed. The way she
killed. The way she smiled, and the way she pulled the dragon’s tail when she
was scared. Hot water just gave me hot shivers, and cold water just reminded me
of winter white and her pale milky pale skin.
Angry with my lack of control of
my own thoughts, I dried off, pulled back on my boxers, and headed into the
basement. Lifting weights usually took my mind off things, usually it was a
case I was working on as Ted Forrester.
I did fifteen reps of 75 pounds
on the bench press, and still found all I was thinking was Anita Anita Anita.
It was like an outside force was pushing the thoughts in my head, and I was
powerless to keep them out. I was rarely powerless, and hated it. I could see
the taught line of her thigh, leading up to her tight buttocks and arching back
that I had seen in the hospital when she got dressed in front of me. That image
hadn’t haunted me until now.
Moving to a parallel bar, I did
five pull ups with my eyes closed before I heard Donna come down the stairs.
Five more and she was to me, tapping on my taught abdomen. “What’s going on,
Edward?” she demanded, standing with her arms crossed.
Hearing that name from Donna’s
lips surprised me. I lowered myself to the ground and looked at her, hands still
over my head. I changed positions in my hands so I was leaning on the bar above
me. “What did you call me?” I asked in my best Ted drawl.
“You heard me,” she snapped, eye
furious. “That’s what Anita called you, wasn’t it?”
Her voice was escalating, but I
kept mine calm. “Why no, honey pot. I don’t recall—”
“Oh, save it,” she interrupted,
pointing a finger at me. “What’s going on between you and Anita? Tell me. I
want to know.”
“I’ve told you everything,
sugar, I swear.”
“I don’t believe you.” She shook
her head. “How long have you been cheating on me with her?”
I told her in all truthfulness,
“I never cheated on you, Donna.”
“Liar. You called out her name
tonight in your sleep, and tonight wasn’t the first night. You called out her
name, in our bed! And I refuse to sleep next to a man who says another woman’s
name in his sleep!”
My eyes narrowed, and I knew
they were hardening to cold blue. “It’s my bed,” I pointed out, voice still
calm. I didn’t need to yell, like she was, to make my point.
Donna’s mouth opened into a
surprised hurt “o”, before she returned back
to being angry. No, she was definitely past angry. She was going into
hysterics, waving her hands up and down, fingers splayed wide, shifting her
weight from foot to foot. “Tomorrow is our wedding, Ted! Our wedding! Are you
going to be thinking about Anita at the altar?!”
The way my thoughts were going
now, possibly. But I didn’t say that. Her voice got even higher pitched, and
her breathing became even more heavy. Barely, just barely, I heard her screech,
“And the payment for the shop is due in three days!” She didn’t think I could
hear that, but I did.
I crossed my arms. “Payment for
the shop?” I asked, sure she heard me. Donna’s eyes widened. Yep, I definitely
was not supposed to hear that last part.
“No, silly, where did you hear
that?” she said, trying to calm herself down.
“Don’t lie to me, Donna. What
payment for the shop?” My tone did not leave room for argument. Not for Donna,
anyways. She was weak. Anita would have argued.
Donna looked down at the ground,
covering her eyes with her hands. “I owe people some money, for the shop. Some
bills and interest have built up that I wasn’t able to pay immediately.”
“Really. And when were you going
to tell me about this?”
“Soon.”
“In the next three days, I’ll
bet. How long have you needed this money, Donna?”
“Three years,” she said, not
meeting my eyes.
“How much do you owe?” Donna
kicked at the floor, not answering, not looking at me. “Donna?”
“20,000 dollars,” she choked
out. Hmm. Not much of a pinch in the checkbook for me, but it was certainly
something Donna couldn’t afford.
“It’d be real easy to pay that
once you had your hands on a varmint hunter’s check book, wouldn’t it?” I
demanded, heading for the stairs.
“No, Ted, it’s not like that!”
she pleaded. “I didn’t know, I didn’t know you were rich for a long time. It
didn’t matter to me!”
I whirled on the stairs and
crouched to look down at her. “How could you not know, Donna? I drive a Hummer.
It cost more than your house and your stupid little dogs all put together,” I
threw at her, and headed back up the stairs. She quickly followed, pleading.
“Ted, please, I love you.”
I didn’t doubt that, just the
same as a didn’t doubt that that emotion came along later as a bonus after she
was sure she would have the money in a couple years. “Jesus, Donna,” I
continued, heading into my office. “How the hell did you rack up 20,000 dollars
in expenses in a psychic shop, of all places? Did you buy a damn dragon or
something?”
She came to the door of the
office and watched me, tears running down her cheeks. “Ted, please…” she
pleaded. I got out my checkbook and wrote her a check for 20,000 dollars
exactly, and placed in her palm as I stalked past out of the office. As soon as
she saw what it was she raced after me again, pleading still, “Teddy, baby, you
don’t have to do this. I love you, baby, I do I do!”
I was tempted to say Quite
frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn. Instead I said while heading into my
bedroom, Donna following close, “Go on, take it. Its what you wanted, wasn’t
it? If you need some extra sell the engagement ring too, its all the good it
will do you.”
“Please don’t say that,” she
said between sobs. “I…just needed some things for the shop. I got into debt, I
didn’t know what to do. I had children to feed!”
“What things, Donna?” I asked
while going through my closet, drawing out some shirts.
“Crystals, stones, spell
ingredients. You know. I couldn’t help it! I needed something to fight Sante
Fe’s bad energy.”
I laughed cynically. “Bad energy
is right. Did your psychic tell you you needed those things?”
“Yes.”
“Well, this gets better and
better. Anita met her, Donna, and said she was a fake.”
Rage finally burned in Donna’s
eyes. “Anita says this! Anita says that! Anita does this! Anita killed that!
Everything is about Anita to you, isn’t it?!!”
I snorted indignantly, and tuned
my back on her, pulling a suitcase out from under my bed. I felt the rush of
wind as she ran at me. Maybe she thought she would hit me, or scratch me with
her nails. I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t give her a chance. As soon as she got
within arm’s reach I flipped her over my shoulder and onto the mattress.
Unhurt, she looked up at me, the rage gone, replaced by despair.
“Where are you going?” she asked
as I finished packing my suitcase, zipping it up.
“Away,” I answered, pushing on
my black cowboy hat. “If you would lock the door when you leave in the morning
that would be nice.”
She followed me as I made my way
for the door. “You’re going back to Anita, aren’t you?”
“It would serve you right,” I
said, hand on the doorknob. I turned back to look at my now ex-fiance, tears
running down her cheeks. “Good bye, Donna.”
As I put my bag in the hummer I
thought about what had just happened. I had thought I loved Donna, and was
truly intending to go through with the marriage. But not anymore. Oh no, not
anymore.
***
Trapped. Totally trapped, and
completely cornered. I sat in Jean-Claude’s oversized bathtub, the wonderfully
warm water up to my neck, and the door locked. The vampires outside the door
could have broken the lock, to be sure, but I knew Jean-Claude wouldn’t do
something so uncivilized. Especially since he would have to pay for a new lock
to be installed.
Now, I said I was trapped because
on the other side of that perfectly white door was a bedroom with two perfectly
naked vampires waiting for me. Jean-Claude, Asher, and my first ménage à trois
had been in progress until I fled for the bathroom with the excuse that I
wanted to take a bath first, even though it didn’t make too much sense to get
clean before I did the dirty-dirty. I
wasn’t sure how long ago that was. No more than an hour, surely.
I would have liked to say to the
boys it was my Midwestern upbringing that interfered, but they would have
sensed the lie. No matter how much I looked into their eyes, it was suddenly a
different pair of baby blues I was seeing.
Edward’s wedding was tomorrow.
Was I jealous? Was that why minutes ago even though soft hair and hands ran
over my body, I was longing for a different pair of more callused hands to
touch me? It was all that consumed my thoughts, and ran hot shivers all up and
down my body. I could almost feel his human breath on my neck and his lips on
mine, or that taught wall of toned chest above me or below me, which ever way
we fell.
Of course, it had nearly been
five o’clock in the morning when we started this mess. Maybe I was just tired.
Right. Hmm. It would be earlier in Sante Fe time. How much earlier I wasn’t
sure. But Edward would be getting up in a few hours, making what ever
preparations first time grooms do.
There was a knock on the door
that startled me. “Ma petite, are you ill?” called Jean-Claude.
“Kind of,” I answered
truthfully.
The door knob turned, the lock broken
by force with the twist of Jean-Claude’s wrist. I guess he didn’t mind
replacing the lock after all.
“The sun will rise soon,” he
said, padding towards me on bare feet in a pair of black silk pajama pants.
“Asher has gone back to his coffin.”
“Oh,” I simply said, huddling
tighter within myself as Jean-Claude sat on the edge of the tub.
“What is wrong, ma petite? Why
did you flee?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Cold
feet, I guess.”
“Cold feet, or cold eyes,
Anita?” When I glared at him, Jean-Claude explained, “I saw your thoughts
through the marks. Why are you thinking of Edward?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know,
Jean-Claude. Honestly, its like something put the thoughts there for me.” I
stood, grabbing a towel, not caring if Jean-Claude saw the show. “I think I
need to go home and sleep in my own bed.”
Jean-Claude didn’t argue, still
pensive, and walked me to the front doors. “I will see you soon, ma petite.”
***
It was as I watched ma petite
climb into her jeep I sensed something in the air. It was not magic, per se,
but it was manipulative all the same. I was suddenly not so angry to watch
Anita leave with the thoughts of Edward on her mind, and knew something had
calmed me. This raised my suspicions, and I wanted to investigate. Not this night
though, for the sun would rise in minutes. I could feel it. Tomorrow. Tomorrow.
***
When I tried unlocking my front
door I found it had already been unlocked. It was past 5:00 in the morning, and
I didn’t want to deal with this shit. Can’t bad guys ever take a break so I
can?
Drawing the browning, I entered
the house quietly. I heard shifting in the living room, just the rustling of
clothing, but it was enough to alert me that who ever was in my house, they
were in the living room.
Adrenaline pumping, I stepped
into the living room of my house, gun raised. Edward stood in the middle of the
carpet, staring at me indifferently, thumbs in the pockets of his jeans. He was
in Ted garb, in dark new blue jeans, black cowboy boots, a black belt with
silver buckle, a tight black cotton t-shirt, and a black cowboy hat. My eyes
lingered on the black t-shirt and how it outlined his toned chest nicely.
I holstered the browning. No, I
didn’t yell at Edward for breaking into my house. I was glad to see him. And I didn’t
jump his bones either. Our reaction was different for us, but didn’t seem as
out of place as it might have a few days ago. He took one step forward, and so
did I. Then another, and another until we were flush against each other. Edward
snaked his arms around my shoulders, burying his face in my hair at the back of
my neck, nearly picking me up off the ground. He knocked his hat off while
hugging me, it fell to the ground.
My face at the bend of his neck,
I could smell his faint aftershave. I was close enough to the soft flesh of his
neck, and was tempted to nibble. Not a bite, just a nibble. Instead I settled
for a light kiss on his pulse and leaned on him, trying to get closer to his
warmth. His cheek brushed mine and I could feel the five o’clock stubble,
literally. He must have just arrived not too long ago.
Taking a deep breath, I managed
to say, “Your wedding’s tomorrow, Edward. What are you doing here?”
“The wedding’s off,” he said
into my hair. “Donna wanted me for my money. I just found out she had some
unpaid bills on her shop last night.”
I felt an eyebrow raise. “You
left her high and dry? What about the kids?”
A puff of silent indignant air
left Edward’s nostrils. “I wrote her a check that would cover the expenses.
Then I left her high and dry. She can cancel the wedding, and explain to her
relatives her financial troubles.” Then he laughed, cynically, and said in that
soft Texas drawl, “No, I came straight to St. Louis. She’s going to tell
everyone Ted has a cheatin’ heart and went to his little vampire slayer the
night before the wedding.”
I hugged Edward tighter. “I’m
sorry,” I whispered.
“Don’t be,” he breathed in my
ear. “It’s what I did, isn’t it?”
I leaned back in Edward’s arms
and his hold transferred from around my shoulders to my waist so he could see
my face but still hold me. “Why are you here, Edward?”
He blinked casually, cool blue
eyes studying me. Finally he answered, “Because you’re all I’ve thought about
for the past few days. I didn’t know what to do with myself, except come here
to see you.”
I sighed with relief and hugged
him again, this time around his torso. “So why did you hug me instead of shoot
me?” asked Edward in a more amused tone.
I almost just shrugged and
didn’t answer, but Edward had been honest with me, and I could do the same for
him. “Because I was glad to see you.” His arms were warm and supporting, and if
we stood there much longer in my living room I would fall asleep. Looking up at
Edward, I said, “Sleep with me.” When one blond eyebrow raised questioningly, I
explained, “No, I don’t mean sex, I mean share a bed with me. I’m tired, and
you have to be tired even though you don’t show it.”
Edward smiled, a slight curl of
lips, and I wasn’t sure if he was going to accept or laugh at me. Finally he
said, “Ok, let’s go upstairs.”
***
Satisfied, I started up the
staircase, assuming Edward would follow. I couldn’t hear his silent steps
behind me, but when the sound of my bedroom door closing met my ears I knew he
was behind me. After changing into my pajamas, a t-shirt and my panties, I
turned to find Edward standing at the foot of my bed, staring at me with those
blue eyes, that didn’t look so cold right then. Before I could say anything
Edward drew his shirt over his head, exposing his well-toned torso.
Unconsciously, I licked my lips while watching him undress, and felt a slight
pang of disappointment when he stopped at his boxers, even though I *was* the
one who specified I meant actual sleep.
Edward walked towards me, his
rolling gait smooth as any predator. My heart pounded in my chest with
anticipation as he stopped before me, leaning down as if for a kiss. But just
before our lips touched he fell away and sprawled out on the bed, a wide Ted
smile in place when he saw my shocked expression. “Well, are we going to sleep,
or what?” he drawled, sitting up on his elbows.
If he was going to be a tease, I
could be too. I slowly crawled over him on the bed, straddling his body on all
fours. Edward watched me closely, trying to stay expressionless, but I could
see he was fighting. As I lowered my mouth towards his torso I rolled my eyes
upward, watching his face. A small sigh escaped his lips as I flicked my tongue
out, just above his naval. When I licked a light line up the middle of his
torso, Edward tilted his head back, closing his eyes with a ragged sigh.
“Anita…”
Planting a kiss at the hollow of
his throat, I said in a sing song voice, “I’m tired,” and crawled under the
covers. Edward fell back on the mattress, seeming in a daze. Languidly he turned
his head to look at me. From the look in his eyes, I knew I won for tonight,
but there would always be tomorrow.
***
“Anita…”
I woke to a voice whispering my
name and the feel of fingertips caressing my upper arm, and lips on my neck.
Edward held me spooned against him, and I could freely admit that I liked it.
“I’m hungry,” complained Edward,
pulling me closer to him with one possessive arm around my waist.
“Then get your lazy ass up and
make yourself some breakfast,” I told him, glancing back. His sleep tousled
blond hair was sticking up in every direction, which made me smile.
“I didn’t say I was hungry for
food,” he said, voice suddenly husky. I sat up on one elbow, and the collar of
my t-shirt slid down over my shoulder. He bit my shoulder lightly, tearing a
gasp from my throat.
Obligingly I pushed Edward back
on his back, laying down on top of him. He didn’t protest. “What changed,
Edward? How did we end up like this?” I asked, brushing a lock of pale blond
hair away from his forehead. He sighed, leaning the side of his face against my
wrist.
“I honestly don’t know, Anita.
But I wouldn’t change it for the world.” I could feel his hands roaming up my
back under the t-shirt. His fingers were cool, and kneaded into my muscles,
causing my eyes to flutter shut. “You know me, I don’t sweat the *why* too
much.”
“Don’t think and just fuck
uncomplicatedly, huh?”
Edward raised one blond eyebrow.
“Not exactly.” He sat up on his elbows, bringing us even closer. He slid his
cheek against mine, and breathed into my ear, “What I want is a long,
complicated day of lovemaking with my soul mate. What do you want?”
I licked my lips as my mouth
suddenly went dry. Edward flipped us over, that slight infuriating smile in
place. “What do you want, Anita?” he asked again, nibbling at my neck. There
were no fangs that pressed into my skin, and I was thankful for that.
Catching Edward’s mouth with my
own in a deep kiss, I told him exactly what I wanted without a word.
***
I cried out, writhing in
pleasure. “Oh my GOD, Edward, please don’t tell me Donna taught you that,” I
said, settling face down into the mattress once again.
“Of course not,” he answered,
his hands continuing their dance over my well lotioned back. “This is standard
curriculum for assassin school,” he said, palms dragging down the length of my
bare back. He was sitting on my lower back, administering the massage of a
lifetime. “I wonder how you got so tense,” he mused jestingly. “It could take a
good hour to get rid of all these knots in your muscles.”
“I hope so,” I purred, not sure
what was better, the lovemaking or the back rub afterwards.
Darkness had fallen not too long
ago.
Suddenly it felt as if my senses
opened, and I could hear everything inside the house. The marks were open, for
a split second I could hear through Jean-Claude’s ears, and feel his red hot
fury. “Let me go!” growled a voice I did not recognize, just before Jean-Claude
slammed the door to the marks closed again.
“Are you alright?” asked Edward,
leaning down to look at me.
“Someone’s in trouble at the
circus, and Jean-Claude’s really pissed off. I have to go check it out.”
Edward sighed, clearly annoyed
to be interrupted. “Fine, but I’m going with you.”
PART 4
Author’s note: ok, this is kind
of an alternative anitaverse, like from my other fic, Afraid of the Dark. The
vampyres and creepy crawlies exist, but normal people don’t really know about
them. So the anitaverse is real, just not mainstream like in the books, but the
books themselves exist… If that doesn’t make sense, it should be cleared up
later. Lol.
“Jean-Claude, she is only a
child! You—”
“I am not a child.” “She is not
a child,” both the vampire Jean-Claude and I interupted goldie-locks. Jean-Claude glared at me, a hateful stare I dutifully
returned, careful not to meet his eyes.
“By this country’s standards,
she is,” said Asher, crossing his arms.
Jean-Claude
waved him off with a gesture of his well-manicured hand. “At this point, I do
not care. I have not gone through so much to win Anita, to lose her to
this…this sad excuse for an author.”
The anger that had somwhat begun
to settle flared once again, pushing aside my fear and giving over to rage, and
I kicked at the dark haired vampire, my steel toed cowboy boot just barely
missing his shin. I wouldn’t have missed, if I weren’t tied down to a heavy
carved wood chair. I’d already landed one earlier that evening, while being
dragged down into the depths of the circus.
So the surly vampire kidnapped
me. Fine. He tied me to a chair. What ever. But insult my writing skills? Hell
no.
“All you have to do is write for
us, petite auteur. Fix these fallacies you have so eloquently created on your
computer, and we shall take you home, without another scratch.” Jean-Claude’s
voice cut the air, his fury all the more apparent with the dancing heat
accenting his speech.
My own anger mingled with
heart-throbbing fear, terror and immense irritation all thrown into one mix. I
would admit that I was a brave person, bordering very much so on the line of
stupid. I would jump off of 35 foot cliffs into the river without a qualm. I
would be the first to go off that new untried rope swing, or stick my hand in
the mouth of that trophy 3½ ft catfish
to grab it by the gills so it wouldn’t get away, or go racing down the highway
with my friends, not hardly noticing when we hit 90 miles per hour. But this
vampire stuff? That was some new shit.
When by some turn of chance I
met Edward/Ted at the E-town rodeo a month ago, and he told me the vamps and
shifters were real, I believe him. But I didn’t really BELIEVE believe him. You
know what I mean? How could I really BELIEVE him, unless I saw some sort of
creepy crawly monster with my own eyes?
Well, I could see him just fine
now, the Master of the City himself, and he was pissed at ME.
Apparently writing fanfiction on
the anitaverse could have a suggestive influence over the characters in real
life. Almost like an anita-junky voodoo doll, composed of words. Jean-Claude
lost Anita the other night, apparently to Edward, and the vamp was holding me
responsible.
He said he could sense the
command of my stories in the air, perhaps because I lived so close to St.
Louis, and he traced it back to me, like following a magical thread. I would
never carry my fanfiction with me again. I had a page or two in my pocket to
show my friend, and apparently that was all it took to serve as a blip on
Jean-Claude’s radar.
Now picture this. My friends and
I are walking out of the E-town movie theatre, after just seeing The Italian
Job, and BAM! I’m airborn, gagged and disapeared into the dark sky, kidnapped
by some damn vampire! And better yet, my friends were stranded, because I still
had the car keys to our ride in my pocket. It would be something worth laughing
over later, if I survived.
A pencil and paper rested on a
table before me. The chair had a sort of platform on the arm, like those
annoying desks at school that no one even half-grown can fit in, and there’s no
desk room besides that. But it was a flat surface, sufficient enough to write
something new, to supposedly set my wrongs right. The Master wanted me to write
something that would bring Anita back to him, but hey, that wasn’t my
specialty. My calling laid with A/E fics. If he’d looked at my website, he’d a
known that.
If Anita and Edward were really
together now, could that be wrong? Hell no! How damn cool was that?
“We can make things even more
unpleasant for you, besides being tied to a chair, Mademoiselle Montana,”
threatened Jean-Claude. Strangely enough, I kind of believed him.
“Fine, I’ll write something,” I
huffed, picking up the pencil. I was tied to the back of the chair around my
torso and upper arms, so just enough arm was free to wield a pencil. It was painted
solid black, with the Guilty Pleasures logo in crimson red printed on the side.
Scrawling quickly across the
snow white paper, making my handwriting illegible on purpose, I wrote,
“Jean-Claude had a sudden urge to toe dance, and Asher began humming the
themesong of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.”
As if on a whim, Jean-Claude
began to rise up on his toes before he caught himself, and I laughed when I
heard Asher say in a quiet melodic voice, “Turtles in a halfshell: Turtle
time!”
With a growling snarl,
Jean-Claude darted forward in a blur of speed, positioning himself behind me.
Tangling his fingers in my hair, he wrenched my head back to look up at him. My
neck was at such an angle it send a jolt of pain screaming down my spine, and I
grimaced.
“Jean-Claude…” warned Asher,
taking a step forward.
“Hush, mon ami, or go away if
you do not wish to watch.”
Watch what?
Jean-Claude turned his eyes back
down to me, midnight blue flashing endless pools of chaos. “I believe you do
not take my threats quite seriously enough, petite.” He bared his fangs, a
sudden surprised flash of white. “But you should.”
Turning my head to the side,
neck still at an odd angle, the vampire struck savagely, and I screamed as his
fangs punctured the skin of my neck. I don’t care what any one else ever said
about the vampire bite being magical; there wasn’t anything special about it,
and it hurt like hell!
I didn’t know how much blood he
took, but it was enough that closing my eyes and falling asleep seemed like a
good idea, no matter what angle my neck was held at. Almost like a dream,
through a haze and in slow motion I watched the door burst open, and none other
than Anita and Edward entered the room with guns drawn, followed by Asher.
“Calvary’s here,” I murmured, seeming to think it was incredibly hilarious, but
I hadn’t the strength to laugh. Closing my eyes seemed like a good thing to do
right then. It seemed like the only thing I could do right then, and I hated
the weakness, but fell in love with the drowsy sleep.
==========================
“Jean-Claude!” I shouted, firing
a warning shot right above his head. “Step away from the girl, or the next
bullet goes into your face.”
“Two
bullets,” corrected Edward, his Glock steadily leveled at the vampire.
The
girl tied to the chair was short, muscular, chin-length blond hair, wearing
blue-jeans, a black button down shirt, and black cowboy boots. She was also
passed out from blood loss.
Jean-Claude
backed away from the girl, trying to explain himself. “You wish to know why all
this madness has come upon us, ma petite? SHE did it. She wrote stories, with
the power of suggestion, drove a wedge between us!”
“What
kind of crock o’ shit is that, Jean-Claude? This is a sixteen year old girl,
and your trying to blame this on her?”
“Tis
true, ma petite. It was her. She is a writer, and author of fanfic.”
“I
know her,” spoke up Edward. “I met her at a rodeo. She has a fansite for us.
Well, mostly me, but the rest of you are all mentioned,” he added with a small
smile. “But I don’t think you can hardly blame this on her.”
I walked forward to the girl, checking her
pulse. It was faint, but steady. She just needed lots of rest, and lots of
electrolytes. “Are you carrying her out, or am I?” I asked Edward, who still
help Jean-Claude at gun point.
“Are
you shooting the vampire, or am I?” he countered, trigger finger twitching.
“Later,
Edward. This girl needs help.”
“I
will carry her to your jeep, cherie,” volunteered Asher, on a guilt trip. I
didn’t bother asking why Asher let Jean-Claude do this, I knew it wasn’t
Asher’s fault. He had opened the outside door for us, which for me proved his
good will. I would make sure Jean-Claude didn’t kick his ass for it later.
The
blond vamp snapped the girl’s ropes, hefting her into his arms and exiting the
room as if she weighed nothing.
“We
will talk later,” I growled at Jean-Claude, and exited the room, assuming
Edward would follow.
Just
to be safe, we took the girl to a hospital. She didn’t need a blood
transfusion, but had Jean-Claude taken any more of the good red stuff she would
have. Sometimes the marks are a good thing; without them I would have never
known in time.
Edward
and I followed Asher up the stairs, and I could have sworn he was humming the
theme song to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
====================
I opened one eye, then the
other, examining my surroundings. I was in a hospital bed, and grimaced at the
peptobismal pink color of my room. I felt lightheaded, but otherwise ok. I
could see my parents through the glass window of the door, talking with a
doctor. A warm beam of sunshine intruded through the curtains, making my legs
underneath the blanket hot.
It took a while for it all to
set in. I survived, thanks to Anita and Edward. And they were together. So, is
the pen really mightier than the Anitaverse? Eager to test my theory, I grabbed
a pen and paper which were resting on the bedside table, and quickly began to
write. I titled the fanfic, “Edward Decides to Share His Fortune With Montana.”
Once
upon a time, in Sante Fe, there lived an incredibly rich and cool and generous
assasin…