Chapter Text
the axe forgets;
the tree remembers.
Scrape. Crash. Smoke. Fire. Scream. Light. Hospital.
Scrape. Crash. Smoke. Fire. Scream. Light. Hospital.
Scrape. Crash. Smoke. Fire. Scream. Light. Hospital.
Scrape. Crash. Smoke. Fire. Scream. Light. Hospital.
Scrape. Crash. Smoke. Fire. Scream. Light. Hospital.
Scrape. Crash. Smoke. Fire. Scream. Light. Hospital.
Scrape. Crash. Smoke.
“Happy birthday, my dear Bella, happy birthday to you-u-u!” Renee wailed into the phone, and Taylor snorted into her mug of coffee, watching her cousin’s sour expression.
Rare Washington sun poured through the windows of their little house. It warmed the wooden floors of Charlie’s kitchen, and Taylor nearly purred, feeling the rays' ghosting spine.
“Thanks, Mom,” Bella said dryly.
“So, what are your plans, sweetheart?” the woman chirped. “Are you celebrating with your boyfriend? Did he plan something… extravagant, or—oh, you said his sister loves fashion, my God, honey, are you going somewhere? Are they taking you to a fashion show? Tell me everything!”
“Mom, I—I really have to run to school,” Bella said in horror. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Well, all right,” Renee sighed. “Be smart. Use protection, and—”
“Bye, Mom!” Bella almost screamed.
Taylor burst out laughing at the sight of her cousin turning crimson, then choked on her coffee and began coughing desperately. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she pretended they were from laughter.
Her own mother had never been like that—never tried to embarrass her with talks about sex or expensive gifts—but every year on her birthday, her mom would step out onto the balcony of their apartment near the French Quarter and start shouting to everyone that it was her daughter’s birthday, how old she was, how much she loved her—and New Orleans would shout back.
Taylor would stand nearby, blushing as street musicians began to play. As neighbors upstairs showered her with petals and bouquets.
Mom will never do that again, Taylor thought with a pain in her chest. No one will ever shout to all of Orleans that it’s Taylor Hudson’s birthday again, because no one wants to know anymore.
“Stop it,” Bella hissed, pulling Taylor out of her thoughts. “She does it on purpose, and you know it!”
“She loves you,” Taylor giggled at last, then smiled softly. “I know you’re not a fan of birthdays this year, but maybe—for me—you’ll let me give you a present?”
Bella rolled her eyes but nodded, and Taylor handed her the package. She had found the series in a little bookstore in Port Angeles, where they’d gone with Jasper and Alice a couple of days earlier.
‘Great Classics and More’, read the gold embossing at the top of the cover. Inside were three books: The Collector, Chocolat, and Pygmalion. The editions were old, the pages fragile, and the ink still carried the scent of old books. Small cards were tucked inside, all of them signed together.
“Jasper and Alice?” Bella wondered, raising an eyebrow.
“We became friends over a shared project,” Taylor shrugged. “And we wanted to give you a gift together. Thought you’d like it more that way. But… they were really shy, honestly,” Taylor pretended to be really embarrassed. “Alice has another gift for you, and they didn’t want to… overshadow Edward’s.”
“I won’t say anything,” Bella smiled, hugging the books to her chest. Then she set them aside and hugged her cousin. “Thank you. And tell Jasper and Alice—I really love it.”
“I’m glad,” Taylor nodded. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked immediately. “You seemed… thoughtful this morning.”
“I didn’t sleep well,” Bella muttered. “Eighteen,” the girl sighed. “I was hoping I’d never find out what it felt like.”
“And how does it feel, being old?”
“I don’t feel any different,” she said. “Is that bad?”
“No, Bells,” Taylor shook her head. “That’s perfect.”
Bella, judging by her face, didn’t quite believe her cousin, but she didn’t argue and simply went upstairs to put the books away and grab her bag. It was time for school.
Taylor skipped school without a shred of guilt.
Charlie was probably somewhere, waving his arms furiously, clutching his head, and thinking he’d taken in an unhinged teenager—but Taylor shuddered at the very thought that on a bright day, when it was Bella’s birthday and everyone would be so happy for her, especially the Cullens… her mom wouldn’t be there.
That morning, Charlie had hugged her, squeezing tighter than usual, and she’d barely held back tears. Now, in the forest she already knew, on her favourite clearing, she didn’t have to hold back. Taylor simply stared upward, hoping that somewhere above, her mom was looking at her—maybe scolding her for skipping school. But looking. Seeing. Missing her as much as Taylor was.
The sun warmed the dry ground beneath her back. She had to shift her backpack several times to get comfortable enough to rest her head on it. Taylor just breathed. Her cheeks were wet, a light breeze tugged at her hair. She tried not to close her eyes, not to fall asleep in the forest, but to feel it. Nature around her whistled with gusts of wind.
The silver wolf found her an hour later. His paws moved quietly over the ground, but Taylor had already learned to sense a presence nearby. By then, her eyes were closed. He lay down beside her and whined softly, nudging her side with his muzzle.
“Hey,” Taylor said quietly. The wolf nudged her again and settled next to her, whining once more. “I’m fine. You can go.”
Of course, he didn’t.
Taylor snorted and closed her eyes again.
Then she snapped them open when footsteps sounded nearby. Considering her constant companion was lying on the ground beside her, Taylor propped herself up on her elbows—and then gasped when another Quileute stepped into the clearing. A tall, brown wolf froze for a moment, as if giving Taylor time to get used to his presence, then suddenly yipped, just like a stray dog, and began rolling around on the ground nearby.
“Wha—” Then she understood and burst out laughing. “Quil?” The wolf nodded under the grumbling of the silver stranger. “What the hell, dude?”
Quil wagged his tail and, coming closer, placed his enormous, heavy head on her lap. Taylor smiled. Carefully, she reached out and rested her palm between the Quileute’s ears.
“Have you lost your mind?” she whispered. “I thought you had your own things to do. What are you doing here?” Quil growled at her and shook his head, clearly demanding she scratch between his ears. “Idiot,” Taylor snorted.
Then her smile faded. The silver wolf, clearly sensing the shift in her mood, settled behind her and began to whine.
“I’m fine,” Taylor rolled her eyes. “Really. It’s just…” She stroked Quil again, studying his intelligent eyes. “It’s Bella’s birthday.” The silver wolf whined again. “Her mother called this morning.”
Understanding flickered in Quil’s eyes.
“I’m fine,” Taylor repeated. Neither wolf believed her.
She smiled to herself—sadly, quietly—then leaned back against the side of the silver wolf behind her.
“God, you’re like a furnace. You’re so warm.”
The wolf, as usual, grumbled and rubbed his head against his own paws, as if trying to rub the bridge of his nose—just like Charlie did when Taylor did something utterly dumb.
She settled more comfortably and began stroking Quil’s head. Somewhere at the bottom of her bag lay a book in which Taylor so desperately hoped to find answers—answers that would help her understand how to lift the enthrallment from Bella. She, Jasper, and Alice—whose thoughts Edward could read but who hid them from him more successfully—had decided that for now, no one else should know. There was no telling what the vampire might do if they tried to “take” Bella away from him.
And Swan herself was far too deeply immersed in Cullen to understand any of it.
After a few minutes, Quil decided to leave them alone, clearly intending to wander the forest, and Taylor rolled onto her side, studying the gray wolf’s head.
“Will you ever tell me your name?” Taylor asked quietly. The creature before her froze, turning into a stone statue. “I’m not demanding, I’m just… curious. I don’t understand why you’re here.”
His tail—just as powerful as the rest of his wolfish body—thumped against her knees, and then his muzzle settled on her stomach like a warm blanket. He moved calmer than he could have—more carefully. He didn’t want to crush her.
“Is it true that the Quileutes hear the voices of their ancestors in their minds?” she asked a few minutes later. The wolf lifted his head, and his expression looked distinctly displeased. “It’s written in my books.”
He twitched. His tail beat against her thighs.
“What?” Taylor didn’t understand. “Like that about the ancestors?” The wolf shook his head. “About the books?” A nod. “Doesn’t the tribe have books?”
His wet nose nudged her palm, from which a few fireflies had recently flown away.
“They’re not magical,” Taylor gasped, then her face fell. “I don’t have one with me, I’m sorry.” The wolf whined. That was a lie but that book was a different story. “I could… I could bring one next time? I haven’t read all of them myself. We could… read them together.”
He let out a rumble, and then, completely unexpectedly, his wet tongue swiped across her cheek. Taylor doubled over in laughter.
“Ew! No, stop it,” she giggled. The wolf continued to rejoice so uncontrollably that the shaking left Taylor sprawled on the ground, his massive body looming above her, bracing himself on his paws so as not to crush her. “Now I definitely won’t bring one,” Taylor whispered. He licked her face again. “You stink, you know that?”
The wolf snorted, tiny drops of saliva splattering her face, and the witch shrieked.
Their small, happy bubble was burst by the sound of her phone. Taylor sighed. It was Charlie calling.
“I swear, I’m not that far—”
“Is Bella with you?” the sheriff’s anxious voice cut her off.
“What?” Taylor pushed herself up from the ground. “No, I—I’m with a friend. Charlie, what happened?”
“The Cullens left,” her uncle said without preamble. “I don’t know all the details, but I know they left about three hours ago, practically without warning, and no one’s seen Bella since. But Edward was seen near our house.”
“She’s not with me.”
“Damn it,” Charlie snapped. “Where is she?”
“I’m in the forest, I’ll search here,” Taylor said, “and I’ll try to reach the Cullens.”
“You have their numbers?” the sheriff asked, surprised.
“Not all of them, but… I worked on a project with Alice and Jasper,” she repeated the now-familiar excuse. “We exchanged contacts. Charlie, we’ll find her. I promise.”
“That’s not the question. The question is what state she’ll be in.”
He hung up.
Taylor jumped to her feet and began stuffing her backpack together. Then she turned to the wolf.
“Will you… tell Sam?” she asked carefully. “It sounded like they’re about to send out a search party. If she’s been gone for hours, then…” Taylor swallowed. “God, she was so attached to him. What if she did something to herself?” The wolf whined, nudging Taylor’s shoulder with his nose.
In response, the witch buried her face in his fur and took a shaky breath.
“If you can help in any way,” she whispered, “please. She’s my sister.”
He nodded once more and took off, racing toward the reservation. Taylor hoped that meant we’ll help, not vampire problems aren’t our concern. Shaking her head, Taylor tried calling Jasper first, then Alice, but both numbers were unreachable.
Only then did she notice a single email in her inbox from an unknown contact. There was no text, no subject—only a phone number and a time: 6:34 p.m. It wasn’t the contact info belonging to any of the Cullens, but desperate, Taylor copied the number down.
6:34 p.m. That was now.
Taking a breath, she hit the call.
“Taylor?” Jasper’s voice answered, astonished. “How did you get this number? I haven’t even given it to Alice yet.”
“I got an email. A phone number and a time. I’m guessing—Peter?” she asked hoarsely.
“Peter,” Jasper confirmed. “What’s wrong?”
“Bella isn’t with you?”
“What? No. Should she be?”
“She was seen with Edward a few hours ago, and now no one knows where she is. What if… he already—”
“Edward was with us, but we split up. Alice and I went to Texas for a couple of weeks. Edward, Esme, and Carlisle are heading to Alaska. What do you mean, Bella was seen with him?”
“I don’t know!” Taylor cried out. “But she’s missing, and—”
Breathing suddenly became difficult.
“What if we can’t find her?” the blonde sobbed.
“You will,” Jasper said firmly. “You will find her, Tay. Alice sees the future. I’ll call Peter and text you from this number. Okay? Do you hear me? Taylor, you will find her.”
“Okay. Okay. Fine.”
The call ended.
Where are you, Bella?