No Life Kid 15 (Patreon)

The wind shifted again through the clearing, blowing harder with the storm, as everyone took in a deeper scent of the specific, dusty musk of nomadic predators.

Zander let the bat fall droop a bit further. Muscles coiled tight enough to snap a suspension bridge relaxed by a fraction of an inch as he prepared for something new and familiar. Baseball was over.Baseball was a game. This was the real reason he’d come to Forks in the first place. Time for war.

As if they heard him, figures emerged from the mist; treeline giving way as the three of them flowed out. That same eerie, frictionless grace that was the birthright of these vampires came with them, the three sliding on a layer of oil that didn’t exist.

The man in front was black, with dreadlocks that made Zander’s look like amateur hour — thick, ornate ropes that hung past his shoulders. With just a jacket on and no shoes to match his lack of shirt, his skin was a dusky dulled gray under the storm clouds; roaming eyes were a deep, burgundy red.

Laurent. Zander remembered that much. Names weren’t hard but his was also harder to forget in the first place; the civilized face of a pack of animals.

Beside him walked a woman with hair like a wildfire — untamed red curls burning bright as her eyes did — Victoria. She moved in a crouch, low to the ground, as those red eyes of hers darted everywhere; counting, measuring and calculating.

And the third.

James.

He was… different.

As pretty as you would expect from the average vampire, sure. That was expected, but at the same time, he was also… forgettable, somehow. Blond hair tied back in a ponytail, lean body, clothes that looked like he’d pulled them off a scarecrow in a cornfield; really, nothing about it was too crazy. 

At most, he looked like a drifter who’d bum a cigarette off you at a gas station.

But the way he moved…

Where Victoria slunk, he prowled. Every step was a decision made in advance to be unnoticed and unheard.

The Cullens reacted immediately, half of them rushing into formation even as the rest just moved in tighter. Edward blurred in front of Bella, an unliving shield, while Emmet and Esme flanked him. 

Carlisle stepped forward, hands open, the perfect peaceful ambassador.

Zander stayed where he was. He leaned on his bat like a cane, adjusting his sunglasses with his other hand casual as Sunday morning.

Showtime.

Laurent stepped forward, a white sphere in his hand; the exact same baseball that Alice had blasted into the stratosphere a few minutes ago. “I believe this belongs to you.” 

His voice was cultured, a baritone dipped in a distant French accent that screamed ‘I eat people but I use a napkin.’

He tossed the ball.

Carlisle caught the lazy underhand with a snap of his wrist. “Thank you.” Carlisle’s voice was calm, practiced bedside manner coming in clutch. “I’m Carlisle. This is my family.”

“Hello.” Laurent smiled, not a single bit of his expression touching those red eyes. “My name is Laurent. These are my companions, Victoria and James. We were simply passing through and heard your game. We had no idea this territory was… occupied.”

“We have a permanent residence nearby,” Carlisle’s words were a warning wrapped in a welcome even to Zander’s ears, the steel in them new but noticeable. We live here. Keep walking.

“Really?” Laurent raised his eyebrows high, the vampire tilting his heaa. “How… civilized. We prefer to keep moving. The nomadic life suits us.”

The conversation was as polite and civilized as Victoria wasn’t, Zander’s eyes on her as the ginger woman circled slightly. Her nose twitched as she sniffed the air for something that clearly stood out to her. 

And then the wind shifted again.

It blew from behind Edward, carrying the scent of Freesia. 

Of shampoo. 

Of warm, pumping, fragile blood.

Bella.

His nostrils flared one last time and James went still.

Like a statue carved from ice, the vampire was completely unmoving even as his eyes locked onto Bella with laser focus as the bored observer vanished. He leaned forward, entire body angling toward the girl behind Edward.

“You brought a snack.”

Every Cullen tensed, each and everyone of them moving like they shared one mind.

“She’s with us.” Edward snarled, the sound low and vicious as it ripped free from his chest. Bella huddled deeper behind him, even as Emmet and Esme held her tighter between them.

James ignored him as his eyes drifted.

Sliding off Bella, they tracked across the clearing, across the Cullens, across the.... “Hiya, Georgie.” Zander waved his free hand, fingers. “Aren’t you gonna say hello?”

James frowned. His head tilted to the side as his roaming eyes finally stopped on Zander, looking like a bird studying a worm that had just spoken Latin.

“You brought a snack.” The words came out slow and confused as he repeated himself. “And… something else.”“We said,” Edward growled again, body vibrating with the effort it took not to rip out James’ throat where he stood, “she’s with us.”

“Of course she is.” James blinked. He didn’t look at Edward, eyes roaming between Bella and Zander. “But him… he smells like… everything. And nothing.”

Zander sighed.

He pushed off the bat, letting it hit the grass with a dull thud, and rose to his full height. Alright, let’s do this. Zander stepped forward, easing his way past the Cullen formation as several sets of golden eyes tracked him by. Standing dead center and a little off the side of the two groups, he shoved a hand in his deep jacket pockets and rocked back on his heels.

“What’s good, what’s good’, y’all?” The Miami drawl came thick and lazy, as sugar-sweet as the other bloodsuckers smelled. “New blood too, how you doin’?” He nodded at Laurent, the other black vampire nodding back, hesitant. “Storm wild as hell, but we was playin’ a game out here. I was up to bat, when you showed up, you feel?”

Laurent blinked at him, eyebrows going up.

“And you are?”

“Alexander James Cray.” He tapped the rim of his blue teashades. “All-American vampire. Local, too. Organic? Prolly. Can’t say I’m healthy for you, though.” He grinned and let the fangs drop. 

Just a flash of white against the dark skin. “Still rare either way.”

Victoria stopped circling as the clearing went silent again. Those red eyes landed on him, lips peeling back in a silent hiss. 

“American,” Laurent repeated, putting extra emphasis on the word as if to divert attention from the wild woman at his side. “How fascinating. We weren’t aware there were indigenous varieties.”

“You learn something new every day.” Zander nodded his head. “Keeps life interesting. Keeps you young.”

“Fascinating.” James spoke again, clearly less interested in that than Laurent. “We’d like the girl.” Despite how he phrased it, despite being outnumbered seven to three, it clearly wasn’t a request.

“No!” Edward’s roar tore through the clearing, the mind-reader moving to jump forward as James prepared to rush him.

“Actually…” Zander’s voice wasn’t loud, but it still managed to cut through the noise like a razor blade. “Nobody’s going anywhere until we settle a few things.”

One second, his hand was empty. The next, it thrust deep into his jacket pockets and drew out a monster of a gun.

It wasn’t the Casull, and it certainly wasn’t the Jackal either, but it was still a gun designed to turn walls into suggestions. Once a simple Desert Eagle, his left-hand pistol was still an oversized bastard of a gun after his butler had put his hands on the thing. Comically huge all the same, it was a slab of black steel, a mauler of a handgun that would normally need to be placed on a platform.

Truly, the V1 Breaker was Walter’s birthday present to him.

Sure, Zander had been the one to drop a quarter million on the design and parts, but the man put it together so it counted. 

The hammer dropped with a click. Zander pulled the trigger.

He didn’t aim.

He didn’t need to.

The gunshot was an explosion, enough to drown out the thunder as something fast hit the ground between the two groups of vampires.

A blast of heat and force erupted across the ground, sending a geyser of wet dirt and grass a good fifteen feet into the air. The shockwave rippled through the clearing, flattening the grass in a perfect circle.

Both groups flinched; the nomads leaped back, hissing, as the Cullens shielded their faces.

Zander stood there, smoke curling from the barrel of the gun as he rested one of the twins on his shoulder, casual as a lumberjack. “We done measuring our vampiric dicks?”

All eyes turned to him for a second of silence.

Then Emmett laughed, a bark of pure, startled amusement that echoed off the trees.

“Now that I have your attention,” Zander’s eyes trailed over the small crater he’d just made. Not quite mini-missiles, Walter, but you did your thing. He looked up, blue glasses catching the lightning flash. “Let’s all discuss this like civilized bloodsuckers. Before I have to start redecorating the forest.”

“Explosives.”James stared at him, hunger gone from his face and replaced with something sharper as he licked his lips. “How… direct.”

“Not explosives, not really. Not unless you talkin’ gunpowder.” Zander clicked his tongue. “But good guess, hobo-man. See, I believe in clear communication, you feel? Helps save time.” His mouth twitched up in a smirk. “Also, big booms are fun.”

Laurent’s hands went up, the man suddenly looking nervous as he showed them all his open palms. As if a vampire’s hands weren’t weapons of their own. “Perhaps we should reconsider our acti-”

“No.” James made it clear what he was about in one syllable as he looked past everyone else to keep his attention focused and squared on Zander. “This has become much too interesting.”

Zander sighed.

Here we go.

“Zan-!” Edward’s head snapped his way, his mouth open in warning,  but James was already in motion, the vampire blurring to full speed in an instant.

In one blink of an eye, he was standing by the trees. By the next, he was a kinetic missile with arms extended, aimed straight at Zander’s throat

Zander didn’t blink, not bothering to block or run.

No, he just… stepped.

A simple, casual sidestep to the left. 

As James flew past him, claws swiping through empty air, Zander pointed the barrel of his Breaker backward over his shoulder.

Thunder barked and the round caught James mid-leap, right in his own shoulder.

The explosion spun the nomad around like a ragdoll, a sound like porcelain straining itself sounding out nearly as loud as the overeager vampire slammed into a Douglas fir with enough force to crack the trunk.

He didn’t scream, but he did roar; a sound of pure rage leaving his lips as he scrambled to his feet, clutching his shoulder with his other arm.

Zander didn’t need to see beneath his clothes — his ears enough — to know that there were hairline cracks all over the vampire’s upper arm.

James looked at Zander, red eyes wild and hungry for more than blood.Zander just raised the gun again. “Come on, make my day.”

Without a word, James turned and ran.

He vanished into the darkness of the trees, a shadow fleeing the light.

Victoria hissed, a living teakettle boiling over, as she glared at Zander with a look of pure, unadulterated hatred written all over her face. It only took a half-second for her to turn too, sprinting after her mate.

Laurent stood alone.

He looked at the crater. He looked at the cracked tree. He looked at the smoking gun on Zander’s shoulder.

He raised his hands.

“This is unfortunate.” His voice was steady, but there was a tremor underneath it all that Zander could understand. “James has a fascination with mysteries. He likes a challenge. And you, my friend…”

He shook his head.

“You are definitely a mystery.”

The Frenchman backed away slowly, eyes on all the Cullens and Zander especially. Then he turned and disappeared into the forest, following the others.

Silence returned to the clearing as only the thunder remained.

“O-oh my God…” Bella sputtered out three syllables, Edward catching her before her legs gave out. “I’m f-fine, I’m fine…”

Alice was almost in as bad a state as Bella as she grabbed Jasper’s arm, her face chalk-white and golden eyes blown wide.“He’s going to hunt.” 

Her voice trembled with each syllable. “Both of them. He won’t stop. He’s obsessed now. Not just with Bella. With you.”

“Until he’s dead.” Zander lowered the gun.

He looked at the dark tree line.

“Which he will be.”