Ash Over Seas

I sighed, taking the cup that Atticus had forced into my hands and raising it to my nose. It didn’t smell bad, and my teeth slightly throbbed as the scent drifted into my nose, but that still didn’t make me want to drink it.

“Colby,” he growled. “It’s part of who you are. Just drink it.”

“But I feel so… barbaric.”

“Father says,” he glared.

I snorted. “Since when have you been one to listen to him?”

“I’m not talking about me,” he replied coolly.

“Fine,” I muttered, bringing the straw to my lips and lightly pulling the red liquid into my mouth. My father had insisted that I begin drinking blood again because he figured it would keep my strength up. I admitted it was a good theory, but it didn’t do well for my conscience, especially when he was having Carlisle transport it from the hospital.

“I don’t know why I can’t just use animal blood like the Cullens do,” I said quietly. “You know what human blood does to my eyes.”

“I thought you liked what it did.”

“Well… I mean sure it’s pretty, but it’s not normal and people are going to notice.”

“People have had purple eyes before.”

I glanced at the ceiling in frustration. For some reason, since my eyes were blue, when I drank human blood, the red that should have tinted them seemed to mix with my eye color and create a deep violet that was clearly distinguishable.

“But people already know mine are blue,” I argued.

“Your eyes are such a dark color they probably won’t even notice. Their eyesight isn’t that good anyway,” he snapped irritatedly.

“I just don’t get why it has to be human,” I muttered.

“Tastes better, doesn’t it?” he retorted and I glared softly. “And it will give you more strength than animal would. You know that. Besides, animal would probably just turn them green.”

“Fine.”

“Why does it bother you so much?”

I grimaced. “I don’t know… I mean… I’m stealing innocent people’s blood. This bag here could have saved someone’s life.”

“Or it could save yours,” he snarled and my eyes softened.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He nodded sharply but his cold, distant eyes didn’t change. “How are you feeling today?”

“A little better, I think. I'm not as tired. Did father say what Carlisle was doing with the treatment when he went?”

Atticus shrugged. “He hasn’t made much progress. They were just discussing ways to go about researching,” he replied, his eyes narrowing.

“What do you mean?” I asked as I took another sip, guiltily enjoying the taste.

“They… want to try to take samples,” he said vaguely, his amber eyes cast out the window as he sat, legs folded under his body, at the foot of my bed.

“Of?” I frowned.

He eyed me for a moment, his lips pursed slightly. “You. They want to test your… tissues.”

“What kind of tissues?” I asked nervously, growling in frustration as Atticus paused.

“Just spit it out!”

“They want to sample marrow from your bones,” he said evenly and my heart skipped a beat.

“Marrow?” I gasped, my face paling slightly as my grip loosened on the cup.

Atticus lunged out and grasped it before it could spill over my covers as I sat there staring blankly at him.

“Are you scared?” he asked, his lips twitching slightly at the corners.

I composed my features and glared. “I may be sick, Atticus, but I could still kick your ass.”

He let out a small laugh, barely audible and I could see a flash of amusement flicker briefly behind his eyes.

“You're much too stubborn and proud for your own good,” he said as he placed the cup on my nightstand.

“I know,” I sighed, grimacing as my mind flitted back to Jacob’s face when I left him at the library. “I’ll try to work on that.”

He just flashed me a tiny wry smile and rose from the bed. “Father’s nearly finished supper,” he added as he slid through the door. “You’d better eat something.”

I nodded, swallowing the remaining contents of the cup and slowly standing. I stretched my arms over my head, loosening my stiff muscles and walking over to my desk. I tapped it to life and decided to quickly check my email before going.

I smiled softly as I clicked open Lena’s latest response.

Lee!

Well good to finally hear from you, I was wondering if you’d forgotten me! Sounds brilliant over there—it’s pretty low key here. Mum went on a bender last night and stumbled in around 4. So ridiculous.

But tell me all about these new friends of yours! Tan, you say? And tall? You’ve no idea how jealous I am right now. Maybe I’ll have to hop on over to France and find one of my own. Speaking of France, is Attie still planning on coming out here for school? Tell him I say hello.

Cormac still won’t stop talking about you. Bit annoying, really. I say you find yourself a nice new dish over there and put the wanker in his place. Anyway, I ought to run, Mum’s just waking up from her nap so I’ll need to cook her something.

Cheers,

Lena

I chuckled, slapped with a sudden pang of homesickness for London, even if it meant being in the same country as Cormac again. My eyes flitted over her last paragraph again and I grimaced, deciding I ought to let her in on my failing love life, even if I did leave some things out.

Len,

I know, I’m sorry for taking so long. I’ve been pretty… busy. I actually have met someone here… his name is Jacob but don’t say anything to Cormac about it. He’s actually a shape shifter so it’s interesting. I’ve never met any like them before. I think you would like them.

It’s so complicated with him though, I like him a lot but I know things wouldn’t last so I don’t really want to get invested, you know? I mean I feel like it would just hurt us both more later. I don’t know. Anyway, I’ve got to get down for supper. I hope everything is great back in the UK. I miss you and hope to talk to you again soon.

Love,

Colby

I sighed again, snapping my laptop shut and making my way downstairs into the kitchen. The smell of split pea soup swirled around my senses and I smiled gratefully. I’d only really been able to eat soup for the past couple days so my father had taken to cooking it every night for dinner.

“It smells delicious, Daddy,” I said as I went to grab a bowl near the stove.

“Thank you, dear. You're feeling hungry?” he confirmed as he shooed me away to the table so he could fill my bowl himself.

“Yes, actually. Famished.” A small crooked grin tugged at my lips as I noticed Atticus already digging hungrily into his bowl.

I glanced next to him to see Pan watching me solemnly from his high chair. I smiled, drifting over and pulling him easily into my arms as I gently rocked him back and forth. My heart still fluttered happily as I remembered the words he’d spoken to me the day before. It was truly an honor and a huge display of affection from the small boy.

“Colby, sit, sit,” my father commanded as he placed a bowl at my seat.

I sighed, placing a gentle kiss on my brother’s soft black hair as I set him back into his place.

“So Atticus tells me you're feeling a little better?” my father asked, though the strain was evident in his tone. He almost sounded nervous about my response and I bit my lip.

“Yes, Daddy, I’m feeling better today,” I said as I stirred my soup around idly. “Can we not talk about it, though?”

My father pursed his lips for a moment before nodding curtly and spooning soup into his mouth.

“Fine then. Artemis, how was school?” he asked stiffly as he tried to shake off his tension.

“Good,” the girl smiled politely. “Jimmy Lang asked Maria out and she threw her pudding at him.”

“Brilliant,” he answered with a forced smile. “Atticus?”

The boy peered up emotionlessly and my father growled in annoyance.

“How was your day?”

I hated how stale and cold the atmosphere had become lately, and almost considered asking Carlisle to let us borrow Jasper for a year or so.

Atticus merely grunted and turned his cold eyes on me, bringing me from my thoughts. “Your boyfriend was asking about you.”

“Boyfriend?” my father asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“He’s not my boyfriend, Atticus,” I bit as my fist clenched on the table.

“Who?” Artemis pitched in happily.

“Black.”

“Do you like him?” my father asked, his brows raised and expression unreadable.

I groaned pathetically. “Daddy, can we please not dissect my personal life right now? We’re not dating, that’s all that matters. Atticus, what did you say to him?” I asked patiently, though my throat was tied in a nervous knot.

“I told him you were busy,” he said icily.

“Thank you,” I murmured and didn’t flinch as he nodded and pushed himself back from the table as he dumped his bowl in the sink and swept off to his room.

I sighed, dropping my head into my hands as my palms rubbed my eye sockets soothingly.

“I don’t know your feelings toward this boy,” my father said calmly as he began gathering the dishes from the table. “But I can guarantee you he will not give up, and he will be just as devastated if anything… happens… whether you are dating or not,” he continued, his voice strained.

“You mean this imprinting thing?” I muttered bitterly to myself.

“He told you?”

My head snapped up and I glared at him. “You knew?”

The tall, pale man sighed softly and ran a hand through his elegant black hair. “I have encountered their kind before. I could see it in his eyes. I am sorry I didn’t tell you but it wasn’t my place.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” I muttered. “Thanks for dinner, Daddy,” I said quietly as I retreated to my room, where I slumped onto my bed and groaned hopelessly, wondering how the hell I was going to deal with the mess that had become my life.