When she threw out her hand, the world around me went black, and my body slammed to the floor of Sam's tiny grey house. The familiar smell and the voices of Paul, Jared, and Sam when they saw me told me it was Sam's. My eyes were closed, and my head ached from whatever had just happened.
I groaned, opened my eyes, and shifted my weight off of my back.
"Bro." Quill walked into the room just as I stood up, and everyone in the room was stunned.
"What the hell was that, man?" Sam jumped up from the couch, his dark eyes fixed on me like I was a science experiment.
"I'm not sure. I was arguing with Halston one minute, and now I'm here." Nausea hit so suddenly, if Jared hadn't been holding a stainless steel bowl, I would have thrown up all over Sam's rug.
"Fuck." I groaned again, lowering myself back to the floor to keep from falling.
"It looks like you teleported," Leah said as she entered through the front door. Her gaze lingered on me for a split second too long before she sat in the old turquoise rocking chair.
"We need more answers," Sam said, getting right down to business.
"Perhaps I was teleported. I accused her of bringing that cold blood with her to Forks. She got upset, then I landed here." I paused for a moment to reflect.
"I've already told you about her premonition, but she can also hear other people's thoughts and share her own." I offered the information, knowing that my pack would be aware of it if we shifted together in the future. It was difficult to keep things from someone who shared a mental pathway with you, so I kept very little from them. I knew it was to protect the pack and move as a unit, but damn it was frustrating at times.
"And she can teleport." Leah shrugged when I looked over at her. "I mean, if she can send you spiraling for miles, I'm certain she's able to teleport larger distances by herself."
She had a valid point. With Halston, there was a lot to unpack. It wasn't just the emotional component or the fact that she was my mate. Her being a vampire complicated matters even more.
I looked at Sam for a moment before standing up from the ground. He had imprinted on Emily when he first shifted. While Emily grew older, Sam made the difficult decision to remain connected to his wolf. Sam remained by her side to this day, but Emily's mind was slowly fading. She was diagnosed with early-onset dementia last year, but we had noticed small changes in her for a long time before that. Sam acts as if everything is fine, he is dying on the inside. A small part of me wanted to ask him if he ever regretted his decision if it was worth it to watch the woman he had imprinted on die.
You couldn't watch her die. The thought struck me, and it was right. To watch Halston die would be the most painful thing in the world. When I learned that she had died in a car accident, I wanted to drive into a river myself. At that point in our lives, Halston and I rarely communicated, but the thought of living without her was too much to bear even then.
Another part of this whole experience that drove me up the wall was that Halston and I were together for nearly two years after my shifter gene was activated. So why didn't I imprint on her while she was human? Everyone else imprinted the moment they laid eyes on their person, but not me. It was the moment I saw her immortal that it shifted into place.
The question was something I wanted to bring up with Sam, but I knew he didn't know any more than I did about this. "I've got to get back to her." I decided, but Jared and Paul blocked my exit.
I gave them a deadly smile, cocking my head to the side. "Come on, guys. Move."
Jared placed a hand on my shoulder. "You need to rest. Give her some space and revisit the situation tomorrow."
"She kicked you out, man." Paul voiced, placing a hand on my shoulder. I knocked it off, taking a step back.
"You don't know what was going on in her mind," I argued, the memory resurfacing along with her desire to die. What if she found a way to kill herself?
I shook my head, there was no one in Forks strong enough to kill her besides the members of my pack. Approaching the situation tomorrow when she had time to cool off might be the best decision after all. If I went back to that house right now, I would be poking an angry tiger.
"If I was her, I would want space," Leah called, feeling the need to weigh in on the female perspective. "You're kind of a drag."
"No one asked you, Leah." I snapped, hating the way she kept looking at me. I made a mistake one night, a stupid, impulsive decision, and slept with her. The sex was great, but after that, she wanted more. Everyone wants more. She was the last person I wanted to be with, and after that one drunken night, I knew she heard it in my mind when we shifted the following day. It didn't stop her lingering gaze, or the jealousy she felt every time I brought another girl to the house. Her former fixation on Sam had refocused itself on me. I sighed, at least I could offer Sam and Emily peace.
Leah was still the only female shifter in the pack, and quite possibly the most annoying. As time passed, the way her mind worked changed very little. Or maybe I didn't care to notice the changes. It's probably that.
"Honestly, Jake. Do you think you're meant to be with a Cold Blood?" Her obsidian eyes dared me to react. To my surprise, it was Quill who responded with a snarl.
"Jacob imprinted on Halston. It doesn't matter who or what she is. She's one of us now." Paul let out a laugh, and I shot him a look that immediately shut him up.
"You accused her of bringing the Cold Blood into town?" He asked.
"Go to hell." I spat, wanting to rip that smile off his face.
"Did you at least fuck her before she broke up with you?" And with that my fist connected with his mouth. I kept hitting him one after another, my fist slammed into his smug face. Paul tried to get away, but I was bigger and stronger than the rest of the pack. I was their alpha by birthright, but also in size and leadership.
"Stop!" Sam and Quill had to pry me away from Paul whose jaw was now broken.
"Get out, both of you!" Sam shouted, "You will not disrespect Emily with this behavior. You can come back when you're able to handle yourselves."
When my eyes locked on Paul, I wanted nothing more than to kill him. "You talk about her like that again and I'll end you. I swear to god Paul, I'll fucking end you."
I was still mad at Halston when I stormed out of the house. I was mad at her, Paul, Leah, hell I was mad at the world for ruining everything.
"Jacob." Abby's soft voice called from her front porch. I chose to ignore her like I did most of the time but she left the rocking chair and followed quickly behind me, her short legs running at full speed to keep up with my pace.
"What do you want?" I snapped, pinching the bridge of my nose. It's not her fault that you're upset, Jacob.
"You seem upset." Her honey brown hair was pulled into a loose bun, and her round eyes looked up at me with an innocence I couldn't imagine possessing.
The sigh was out of my mouth before I could stop it. "I have a lot going on."
"I heard Sam kick you out." She frowned, looking back towards their house.
"My brother's not home." She motioned toward the front door of her house. "You could stay the night if you wanted to." A smile tugged at her lips.
Abby would be a welcome distraction from the chaos in my life. I took a look at her black shorts, which hugged her curves, and her v-neck tank top, which dipped low enough to show off her breasts. Just as I was about to accept her offer, Halston's face appeared in my mind, and the hurt she felt when she pushed me away consumed me.
"I'm afraid I can't." I began running, not knowing where I was going but knowing I needed to get away from people. Instead of taking the time to undress, I shifted, ripping through my clothes and tearing my shoes all at the same time.
The next morning, I dragged myself away from the devastation and walked numbly outside to where the pick-up truck was parked. I debated taking the truck with me because I was too exhausted to teleport myself to Port Angeles, but I decided against it. Even after our argument, I didn't want to take anything away from Jacob.
I was certain that if my eyes could appear puffy, I would look like a train wreck, but in the side mirrors, I saw that I looked perfect. Even my messy hair, which I had thrown up in a loose bun, appeared to be on purpose. I forced a smile on my face, then watched it vanish. I wasn't in the mood to act like I had my life together.
I had assumed that attending my funeral would not be traumatic, and I was correct. It wasn't all bad, but my rash decision to be with Jacob was the worst I'd made in a long time. I should have let him believe I was dead. It would have been easier for both of us.
When I looked down at the clothes I was wearing, I realized they had been through hell and back. The Uber I'd decided to call pulled up to the house, the driver frantically waving her hand out the window. Inside the car was a girl who looked exactly like Jessica. I pursed my lips, slipping into the back seat when she turned around excitedly.
"Hi! I'm Madison!" Her hand shot out and her overly enthusiastic personality was the last thing I wanted to deal with after the night I had.
I offered her a tight smile. "Hello, Madison. I'm Eris, Halston's daughter."
Her face fell at the mention of Halston. "I'm so sorry for your loss. My mom was devastated when she heard the news of her best friend's passing."
I suppressed the cringe that arose in my body at the thought of Jessica claiming we were best friends. To be honest, I wasn't surprised. She had a penchant for being the center of attention. Her dark brown hair complemented her blue eyes, which were framed by a pair of brightly colored glasses.
"Jessica Stanley is your mother?" I asked, knowing the answer already.
Her eyes lit up at the question. "Yes! Mom talked about her all the time."
"That's really sweet. Tell your mom I said thank you." I smiled, then settled into the backseat as she pulled away from the house.
"Port Angeles, right?"
"Yes. Apologies if I'm not very chatty, I have a lot I'm trying to work through." It was true, but the main reason behind it was that I didn't want to be stuck conversing with a mini Jessica for the next hour.
Her eyes softened, making me rethink my initial assessment of the girl. "Of course. I'll leave you be."
When Madison dropped me off at the mall, she seemed to want to stay for the trip, but I explained that I only needed a new set of clothes and that I would be leaving Washington. As far as I was concerned, I would never return to this desolate town. There was nothing here for me. I slipped her a $400 tip before exiting the car without looking back.
My shopping agenda was to find some comfortable but fashionable clothing for wherever I was going next. When I checked into the hotel room, I had no idea what the plan was. I didn't have a place I wanted to move to, nor did I have a place I wanted to return to. What kind of life did I want to live from now on?
My outfit for the day consisted of a pair of fit and flare dark wash denim paired with an oversized cropped sweater. It was simple enough, so I chose four other outfits to rotate while I figured out where I was going.
I ultimately decided to book the penthouse suite for the foreseeable future.
"Halston Joyce Levine." I smiled warmly at the man at the service counter. I had checked in on my phone, but I still needed to pick up a room key.
His eyes roamed over my body, focusing on the small piece of exposed skin between the bottom of my sweater and the top of my jeans.
He let out a strangled cough when he noticed me watching him. "Uh, yes ma'am."
"Thank you," I looked over at his name tag, "Colby."
The staff offered to bring up the two bags of clothing I had brought into the hotel, relieving me of any need to get to the top floor. Instead, my gaze was drawn to the bar.
I chose a seat as far away from the three men at the bar as possible. Two of the men appeared to be going through a midlife crisis, and the other, who appeared to be in his early thirties, was staring intently at his phone. I deduced from his thoughts that he was anticipating a business call, one that he was concerned would not arrive at this time of day.
"What are you going to have?" The bartender was middle-aged and dressed in a black button-up. Because this was a high-profile hotel, it didn't surprise me that even the bartenders had to wear button-ups and dress slacks.
"I'll take a margarita." I smiled, sliding him my ID as well as my debit card. I liked that I didn't need to specify that I wanted my drink on the rocks or that I expected the top-shelf tequila.
When the bartender handed me my drink and cards back, the thirty-year-old man from the bar looked over at me. I raised my glass and smiled at him before returning my attention to the drink. His cologne reeked of a man attempting to mask the stench of last night's blunders. Maybe we weren't that different, I thought as I focused my gaze on him.
His hair was soft caramel brown, and his eyes were hazel. They were courteous, and despite not being the same color, they reminded me of Beckham.
"I'm Dean." He offered a bright smile and his hand.
I tilted my head to the side, then took his hand in mine. "Halston."
"Charmed." He's cute. Really cute. Perhaps he could be a distraction from my current life. You like distractions. I did. I really liked distractions, especially when they had dimples and dark hair.
The conversation consisted of the same casual small talk, and he checked his phone here and there until, after three drinks, he didn't care if he got that call or not. Out of sheer curiosity, I discovered years ago that my body could process alcohol. It took four times as much for me to feel anything as a vampire, but it was nice to take the edge off. When I discovered alcohol, I experimented with different foods, missing the taste of something savory. To my dismay, I discovered that my body did not process other foods in the same way.
I laughed as Dean ordered us another round of shots, not knowing what I was laughing at, just that he must have said something mildly amusing and I was buzzed. I took my shot, then drew him into me when I saw him raise his shot to his lips. For a brief moment, his balance was off, and a small portion of his drink was spilled on my sweater.
I looked down, then offered him a pout. "How could you?"
"Oh shit." He laughed, "I can make it up to you. Open," he gestured to my mouth, holding the remainder of the shot out.
I rolled my eyes but complied anyway. As the alcohol made its way down my throat, there was a tinge of the familiar burn. Fortunately, we were up against the bar's wall, so I wrapped my long legs around him and drew him closer.
His hazel eyes searched my face for confirmation, and I nodded, indicating that I wanted to leave with him.
"Halston!" The voice stirred something deep within me that I had tried for a long time to ignore. I would have recognized the melodic voice right away if I hadn't just drank four margaritas and six shots.
To my right stood a girl dressed in a modern-victorian-styled outfit. She stood roughly four foot ten, and her short, spiky, black hair caught my attention.
"Hello, Alice."