Crescent • A Twilight Story

A Flight of Revelations

When I lost her trail, her scent going cold, I called up my aunt straightaway.

"What did you do?" She was silent for awhile, and I struggled against my own strength, against keeping the fragile phone intact. "I said, what did you,"

"So she made it out then." Aunt Alice sighed, as if almost in relief.

"You set her on this path. You've seen what I have, haven't you?" A long pause, a muffled argument on the other end. It was followed by rustling, as if the phone had been dropped.

"Ward." It was my dad, his voice taut with anger. "I'll call back in five minutes."

I knew what that meant, heading back to my car. Dad was getting out of ear shot.

Back in the driver's seat, her scent lingered, sweet and flowery. I breathed it in, no longer aching with thirst, but fear. Fear from seeing the way she writhed in pain, Duke clearly being tortured. Fear of what I had seen her end to be, a worse fate than any of her other deaths.

She'd evaded the others before, perhaps...

My phone buzzed, and I connected it to the car so I had a better chance of not wrecking it.

"We don't have much time. I'm texting you a location. You need to get there within six hours to have a chance." I straightened, plugging in the address. The GPS said the route would take seven hours. I started peeling out, knowing I'd have to make up the difference somehow.

"Someone you recognize will be waiting for you. I'll also text the marker. He has your ticket, passport, and the rest of the plan. If you don't make it,"

"I'll make it." I stepped on it as I hit the highway, weaving in and out of cars.

"They thought they were doing the right thing." He let out a sharp sigh, and it cut through the car's speakers. "I should have done more, connected with her more. She was my responsibility."

"Both of ours." I said, remembering how Rory felt there was no one who truly loved her in the world.

"I've got to go. Civil war broke out the moment you left. Just, keep an open mind and come back home."

Embry Call stood in front of security, long hair pulled taut at the nape of his neck. He looked me up and down, disapprovingly.

"I don't believe it." I grumbled, crossing my arms. "If dad thinks for one second I'm going to go anywhere with you,"

"No time to argue, kid." He slapped my passport and ticket in my palm.

Looking me in the eyes, and I saw something I wished I hadn't. We got in line.

"So suddenly you care." He swore under his breath.

"Why do you think I left her in your dad's care? If you knew everything,"

"Then tell me. Everything."

But we didn't say another word until we made it to security, running to our gate before they finished boarding.

"I mean, how could you lose control? You were in Uley's pack,"

"Just leave it alone, kid"

I lowered my voice, as he sunk into his window seat. "How do I know I can depend on you, to protect her when the time comes?"

"Because," He squeezed his eyes shut. "Every decision I've made has been to keep her alive. Safe."

He looked around, leaning toward me. And man, did he reek. The filth filled the thin cabin air as we ascended.

"I imprinted sixteen years ago, when they were just passing through. Her mother was running from family troubles. She wouldn't open up to me, and I tried to convince her that I could take care of them. But she ordered me to stay away."

"Rory's father?" He shook his head, as I folded my hands beneath my arms.

"Long dead." He cleared his throat, looking around at the other passengers. "Before we'd met."

"So why'd she come back?" I slumped against the stuff seat, the cabin pressure stabilizing.

"She claimed she was done running. I, I didn't know how to reach Aurora. She was so little the last time I'd seen her, and even then it was so brief." He smoothed back his oily hair. "I was embarrassed too. How far I'd let myself go. They deserved better than they had."

He sighed after awhile, keeping quiet as passengers began moving to the bathrooms.

"The day Aurora went to the beach, I'd determined to tell them both about that other side of me. But she tried to run off."

"Rory?"

"No, her mom." His squeezed his fingers into fists in his lap. "And she was going to leave her daughter with me." With gritted teeth, he pressed on. "When I caught her, she confessed everything.

"Her family was descended from weres. The real kind. They were fighting a losing battle against the bloodsuckers, and before they could be completely eradicated, they offered up their abilities in the hopes that one from the line would return. Return and be able to defeat the pale faces once and for all.

"Not much was known about the descendant, only that they would be born under a crescent moon."

I rubbed my temples, sensing what he was suggesting. An explanation for why she was different. Special. "But why did she want to leave Rory with you?"

A tremor. "She didn't want her daughter to be sacrificed. Thought she'd be safer in La Push. With us. Yes, she knew all about me. About Quillette history."

"How did things get out of hand?"

"I told her she had a responsibility to stay. What kind of mother wouldn't stay. Our conversation had already been heated. So when she slapped me,"

I'd heard enough then, the plane a little too confined to rile back up the beast.

"She can't change into a wolf. Has faster healing, faster than our kind even. But her only true defense is her blood."

And even then it was a flawed defense. I recalled the night she was bitten, her body repelling the venom. It took a lot out of her, fighting it.

"You care about her, don't you?" I leaned forward in my seat, swiping my clammy palms on my pant legs.

"I'm not the one who imprinted. And no offense, but you're not really step father of the year." A chuckle.

"Maybe not. But at least she had a chance at a normal life for a moment there. A chance to heal without looking her mother's killer in the eye every night at dinner time." I wrung my hands in my lap. "I'd have given anything to imprint with someone who loved me back. But now I know, some bonds are made by magic. And others, we forge ourselves."

As I glanced at the directions my father left, the list, I knew he had a point. If I was willing to die for her, it had to mean something. Count for something.

So before we landed, I made a call.

Even though it was going to be impossible.