Shot Down In Flames

Chapter Eighteen

"Where are we going?" Bella asked us all, but nobody made any movement to show they'd even been listening to her, except me, who was obviously looking at her.

"Dammit, Edward! Where are you taking us?" She yelled like an angry toddler.

And we're accused of having anger issues!

"We have to get you away from here. Far away. Now," He didn't look back at her, his eyes on the road. The speedometer read a hundred and five miles an hour.

"Turn around! You have to take us home!" She shouted, struggling with the seats harness, flailing like a fish out of water, but not succeeding in tearing it off.

"Emmett," Edward replied grimly.

Emmett stretched over me and secured her hands in his steely grasp, the arm attached to it, brushing lightly over my chest every now and then.

Where's a sparkly dildo when you need one!

In the SexBox, that's where a sparkly dildo is.

"No! Edward! No, you can't do this," my adoptive sister whined pathetically.

"I have to, Bella, now please be quiet."

Bella still wriggled in her seat, "I won't! You have to take us back, Charlie will call the FBI! They'll be all over your family, Carlisle and Esme ! They'll have to leave, to hide forever!"

What is this, amateur dramatics hour? Over reaction!

"Calm down, Bella," his voice was cold, "We've been there before."

She shook violently, tossing her head in protest, "Not over me, you don't! You're not ruining everything over me!"

What about us!

Alice decided to cut in and spoke for the first time, "Edward, pull over," he flashed her a hard look, and then sped up, "Edward, let's just talk this through."

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND," he roared in frustration.

His voice so loud; it was deafening in the confines of the Jeep, it made me flinch, the new sensitivity of my hearing not agreeing with the volume.

The speedometer neared one hundred and fifteen, "He's a tracker, Alice, did you see that? He's a tracker!"

Eddie calm down, you're scaring Bella.

Em stiffened next to me at the mention of a tracker. A tracker was someone who could catch another's trail and follow that trail until they reached their goal. They were determined and weren't the sort to back away from a hunt, Em had told me trackers were possibly the worst sort of vampire you could bump into; that wasn't a Volturi vampire royalty.

"Pull over, Edward," Alice's tone was reasonable, but there was a ring of authority in it that was surprising for something as delicate as the little pixie.

The speedometer inched passed one-twenty, "Do it, Edward."

Seriously Edward! Slow the car the fuck down and chill!

Please Edward, just do it, Eris is very aggressive when she wants and I really don't need a migraine right now.

Sir Broods-A-Lot took no notice of my pleas, "Listen to me, Alice. I saw his mind. Tracking is his passion, his obsession and he wants her, Alice, her, specifically. He begins the hunt tonight."

"He doesn't know where-"

Edward cut off Alice's sentence, "How long do you think it will take him to cross her scent in town? His plan was already set before the words were out of Laurent's mouth."