Lips of an Angel

Chapter 1-Resisting Tempation

In that moment, I felt nothing like the humane being I had learnt to become. My emotions were suddenly in turmoil, as they'd been as a newborn, and I felt like the monster I tried so hard not to be. The natural instincts to kill humans that I'd tried to reign in over the years were suddenly unleashed.

I was a predator, and he was my prey.

I needed to hunt him.

I sucked in a deep, ragged breath, and his scent burned down my throat. It was almost physically painful not to leap over the desk and consume every drop of his tantalising blood. I could do it, said a snide voice in my head. Just go over there and drink. I'd need to kill Mrs Cope too, though. But two humans... I could get away with that. People died and went missing in London all the time. It wouldn't be that unusual.

But we'd still have to go. My family and I would have to pack up and leave. And Rosalie would hate me even more. So, with a great, inhuman force, I made myself stay seated in my chair. I gripped the wad of papers I was holding tightly in one hand, and the other fisted around the arm of the chair. I felt it grind between my fingers.

I let out a slight, strangled growl, causing both Mrs Cope and Edward Cullen to look up at me. For a split second, our eyes met, and the monster within me diminished for the smallest length of time imaginable. I felt my eyes darken, and his eyes widened, presumably at the expression on my face, before dropping to the ground.

In the frozen moment of time that our eyes met, I saw my own feral face reflected in his eyes. It was that image that saved his life. Carlisle's face appeared in my mind, he who had never tasted human blood, and I closed my eyes for a moment. I was able to think more clearly, as my own face, with red eyes, after my rebellious years of killing murderous humans and drinking from them, came into my mind too. I wouldn't be that monster again.

I held my breath, and the searing pain in my throat lessened very slightly. My grip on the chair tightened, and I realised that the wood wasn't up to the job of keeping me in my seat. I glanced down, too quickly for the humans to see, and saw the shape of my fingers imprinted there. I'd have to erase that evidence later...

"Miss Swan?" Mrs Cope's voice cut through my bloodlust, and I looked up at her, trying my best not to think about Edward Cullen's blood. I could still smell the remainder of his scent, but it was muted after holding my breath. Bearable. I still wanted to kill him, but I didn't need to. I could survive not doing so. I hadn't even known a scent such as his could exist...

"Yes?" I asked, my voice a little rough. I realised that I'd have to breath again soon, as I'd run out of breath to speak. Perhaps I would have to kill Edward Cullen. I'd never committed a murder like that - never drunk from an innocent human - but I'd have to if I had to breath in his scent again. Perhaps I'd inch my chair closer to the window so that I could dilute the smell.

"Are you ok?"

"Perfectly," I lied.

"This is Edward Cullen. I'll see you in a while," she said, the latter to Edward Cullen. He nodded silently.

Mrs Cope looked across at me, and then she turned on her heel and left my office. Like most humans, my presence, when I was like this, set her on edge. She wanted to get away from me. It had taken me many years to make myself human enough not to repulse humans when they spoke to me, which was important for my job.

I was mildly surprised, therefore, when Edward merely stood awkwardly before the shut door. His heartbeat didn't indicate any fear, and he was shooting me strange glances. What was this - this thing? Some horrific person sent by the Heavens to be my undoing? The anger towards this innocent human, with no knowledge of my world, lessened the desire to kill him somewhat.