Be Careful What You Wish For

Chapter Eleven

1 "Good. Now, I'm gonna turn you around so we can have a proper conversation, but we're gonna stay down here just a tad longer. Don't do anything stupid. You won't have time to phase without losing a couple of limbs. Understood?"

Leah wanted to tell Creepula he could rip off her arm and shove it up his own ass, but she had a job to do. Reminding herself of Yuppie Boy's promise to rid the Earth of all Cullens (two days only two days and they would be safe it would be over done with over forever), she bit down the reply and forced herself to keep her ire in check. "Understood."

"Good girl," he said, and before she knew it, he'd spun her around, slammed her back into the forest ground, and pressed himself on top of her, pinning her arms above her head.

She hit her head on the ground and inhaled sharply. Stars danced before her eyes. As she blinked them away, she saw that his face couldn't be ten inches away from hers. The overpoweringly sweet, cinnamon-like smell of his skin burned in her nostrils. It was all she could do not do pull up her knee, wipe the smirk off this creep's stupid vampire face. She glowered up at him. "What the fuck do you want, you little shit?" The asshole gave off cold like she was being buried under an ice-block. Fun times, these were not.

"This is something I like about you," he said in that patented Southern drawl of his she had a feeling he cultivated on purpose. "You don't banter. You cut right to the chase."

"Return the favour and do the same. I don't like being crushed to death by an ice-cold lump of sugar."

"You say the sweetest things," he said, pulling up one corner of his mouth in a crooked grin.

She grimaced at him over the bad, bad pun, opened her mouth to tell him to cut it out, and...

...oh, God.

Her mouth stayed open on her frozen expression as she stared at him, wide-eyed, chilled to the bone for more than one reason.

His eyes were brightly crimson.

"You killed someone," she whispered. For a moment, she almost lost control. Her body started trembling. Her face got burning hot. Bile shot up her throat. Her heartbeat was frantic.

"Sh, calm down; calm down," he said, straddling her, crushing his thighs against hers, immobilising her. "Don't make it even worse for yourself."

"I'm gonna fucking end you, you-"

"Well, if you're like that, then I have to be like this," he said, calm as ever, grinning.

That was when she felt it: her whole body relaxed, was drowned in tranquillity. She stopped struggling. Motherfucker. "Tell me what you want and get away from me." After a little pause, she added, "I hate your guts so goddamn much."

The grin morphed into a very self-satisfied smile. These things really were all in love with themselves, weren't they? Son of a bitch. "Where were you?"

Glaring up into that perfectly symmetrical, pouty-lipped face of his, she snapped, "Trying to convince Sam to not curb-stomp your sparkly asses," through clenched teeth. "I'm glad he didn't budge, though. You don't deserve being saved."

"Wrong answer, sunshine. I actually scouted out the reservation, and you were a very glaring no-show."

"You did what?"

"Don't deflect. You are up to no good, and things being as they are, I kind of have a zero tolerance policy toward liars and traitors," he said, squeezing her wrists harshly, making her flinch and suck in a sharp breath. "To put it colloquially: jig's up, peaches. Confess your sins."