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DEATH TOLL RISES

Seattle, once home to the most prolific convicted serial killer in United States, Gary Ridgway, the Green River Killer, may now be home to another.

The police are not calling the recent rash of homicides and disappearances the work of a serial killer. Not yet, at least. They are reluctant to believe so much carnage could be the work of one individual. This killer – if, in fact, it is one person – would then be responsible for 64 linked homicides and disappearances within the last four months alone. In comparison, Ridgway's 48-count murder spree was scattered over a 21-year period. If these deaths can be linked to one man, then this is the most violent rampage of serial murder in American history.

The police are leaning instead toward the theory that gang activity is involved. This theory is supported by the sheer number of victims, and by the fact that there seems to be no pattern in the choice of victims.

From Jack the Ripper to Ted Bundy, the targets of serial killings are usually connected by similarities in age, gender, race, or a combination of the three. The victims of this crime wave range in age from 15-year-old honor student Arthur Reed, to 67-year-old retired postwoman Opal Jenks. The linked deaths and disappearances include a nearly even 33 women and 31 men. The victims are racially diverse: Caucasians, African Americans, Hispanics and Asians.

The selection appears random. The motive seems to be killing for no other reason than to kill.

So why even consider the idea of a serial killer?

There are enough similarities in the modus operandi to rule out unrelated crimes. Every victim discovered has been burned to the extent that dental records were necessary for identification. The use of some kind of accelerant, like gasoline or alcohol, seems to be indicated in the conflagrations; however, no traces of any accelerant have yet been found. All of the bodies have been carelessly dumped with no attempt at concealment.

More gruesome yet, most of the remains show evidence of brutal violence – bones crushed and snapped by some kind of tremendous pressure – which medical examiners believe occurred before the time of death, though these conclusions are difficult to be sure of, considering the state of the evidence.

Another similarity that points to the possibility of a serial killer: every crime is perfectly clean of evidence, aside from the remains themselves. Not a fingerprint, not a tire tread mark, nor a foreign hair is left behind. There have been no sightings of any suspect in the disappearances.

Then there are the targets themselves – hardly low profile by any means. None of the victims are what could be viewed as easy targets. None are runaways or the homeless, who vanish so easily and are seldom reported missing. Victims have vanished from their homes, from a fourth-story apartment, from a health club, from a wedding reception. Perhaps the most astounding: 30-year-old amateur boxer Roberta Walsh entered a movie theater with a date; a few minutes into the movie, the man realized that she was not in her seat. Her body was found only three hours later when fire fighters were called to the scene of a burning trash Dumpster, twenty miles away.

Another pattern is present in the slayings: all of the victims disappeared at night.

And the most alarming pattern? Acceleration. Five of the homicides and disappearances were committed in the first month, thirteen in the second, twenty in the third. There have been twenty-eight in the last three weeks of this fourth month alone. And the police are no closer to finding the responsible party than they were after the first charred body was discovered.

The evidence is conflicting, the pieces horrifying. A vicious new gang or a wildly active serial killer? Or something else the police haven't yet conceived of?

Only one conclusion is indisputable: something hideous is stalking Seattle.

The date on top of the paper was from two days ago. "What is this, Jake?" I asked after I finished reading the article. The things that were mentioned as the cover up for the murders sounded like something I was supposed to understand, but I felt that I was missing something big.

"According to the Cullens, it's newborns doing that. They're not sure why someone would be turning vampires and just letting them run around uncontrolled. I suggested it was Victoria. After all, you and I both know that she's created vampires before... but Alice was certain it couldn't be her. Alice's been watching her future heavily, I guess."

"Alice may miss the occasional thing, but if there's this much damage and she hasn't seen Victoria involved, then I'd agree. Even though the kills themselves are generally pure instinct. There is decision involved. There's decision involved when someone chooses to bite and not kill. There's also decision involved if they're doing it in such a large city. Whoever it is, is obviously looking for optimal damage, though the real question is to what end? I mean, yeah, Seattle has over half a million people living in it... but what's the purpose?" I frowned thoughtfully.

"The Cullens have been asking that as well. I don't think they've figured out an answer yet though." Jake grimaced. "I've been monitoring the progression since they first told me what was going on in Seattle. Sam and I have discussed going there and taking care of the problem. Unfortunately, a bunch of giant wolves running around the streets of Seattle is going to be noticed."

"It would be better if the Cullens and I went and handled it. We'll blend in better. It would be better still if the Volturi would actually do their job and take care of the problem." I shook my head. Suddenly I regretted what I'd done a whole lot less. Apparently they really were as useless as my acquaintances had insinuated.

"What are you thinking?" Jake suddenly asked.

"Nothing." I sighed. "I don't know how much use I'd actually be in a tactical attack. It's not really my forte."

Jake snorted and I knew why, but he was wrong.

"That... was a one time deal, Jake. I could never do it again. I was acting on something that I don't normally feel or do – something that I still don't truly understand."

He narrowed his eyes but didn't reply.

"So, is there anything I can help with?" I asked, changing the subject.

Suddenly he grinned, a positively evil glint in his eyes. "As a matter-of-fact, there is."

…

I'd followed him willingly through the forest until he told me what he wanted me to do. I stopped cold as I blinked. I was sure I'd heard him wrong.

"You want me to do what?" I asked to verify.

"Come back to the house with me for dinner."

"I don't eat food, Jake," I stated – just in case he'd forgotten – staring at him like he'd lost his mind as he turned to look at me.

"I know that." He rolled his eyes. "But do you know how crazily annoying it is to be stuck in that house while Rachel and Paul suck face. It's supposed to be a good thing having my sister home. But she'd drive a monk to drinking."

"Isn't that pretty typical for a sibling?" I asked.

He gave me a dirty look. "Besides, Billy's at Charlie's today. So it's just Rachel and Paul in the house. I want some of my own company for a change."

"Jake –"

He cut me off. "Don't start. We owe it to ourselves to have our two minutes and you know it. Come on. Spend the day with me."

The words, the reminder, of why I'd followed him to La Push back two months ago gave me a brief pause, but then I sighed, and I followed him anyways as he continued to his house.

He was right about one thing. We did owe it to each other. I just wasn't sure that was a good enough reason to be with him. In the last three months I had come to understand one thing about how I felt about Jacob – and that was the fact that there was a difference between between loving someone and being in love with someone. I'd actually always known that. But somehow, with Jacob, it had gotten confusing. I hadn't looked it up, hadn't wanted to, but I was relatively certain that a psychologist would call what I felt for him as hero worship.

In spite of what I'd realized about myself, it didn't change the fact that a small part of me saw him as something more than just a friend... but I now knew I shouldn't. And for all that, I knew I would give Jake what he wanted, because I didn't know what else to do... Because at the end of the day, he was the one that was always there.

When we made it to his house, it was to find Paul and Rachel, as Jake had so eloquently put it, sucking face on the couch. Actually... it was closer to doing the horizontal tango with their clothes still on – Emmett would have been so proud of my ingenuitive mind at that moment.

"Isn't there a better place for you to do that?" My mouth had opened before I'd had the chance to consult it.

Beside me, Jake chuckled.

Rachel looked over at me and then her eyes narrowed even as her heart rate sped up – either in fear or anger, it was hard to say. "What are you doing here?"

"He's my friend, and frankly he's more welcome here than Paul is. You know that we can't afford to have him eating us out of house and home the way he does."

While Jake had been half shouting at his sister, they'd managed to sit up on the couch.

"Why don't you just go get laid, Jacob," Paul stated, but the heat that had been in his voice even two months prior wasn't there any longer. He wouldn't do anything to hurt Rachel. Everyone already had a very visual reminder of how that would end up working out anytime anyone looked at Emily. As he glanced at me, he suddenly laughed loudly, like he'd told the best joke ever.

I should have seen Jake's next move coming, but I hadn't.

Jake took the three steps to the little couch and he hauled off with a punch that would have made a boxer proud. The resounding snap as his fist met Paul's nose and the bone broke made me flinch slightly. Almost immediately, the smell of freshly spilling blood infused through the air. Blood that smelled like rotten leaves and maggots – but still.

"Ow," Paul grumbled, reaching up and straightening his nose.

I yanked Jacob back to me, spinning him to face me and shaking him once to make sure he got my point as I spoke, "Do you really think it's a good idea to be spilling blood intentionally around a vampire?"

I heard Rachel's fearful intake of breath, but I didn't even glance her way.

"You want to eat him? Go for it. I won't even bat an eye about it." He jerked away from me and spun around stomping to his small bedroom and slamming the door behind him.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I swear vampires cause less drama than your kind does."

Paul opened his mouth.

I held up one finger and glared at them both. "You are still bleeding, so if you don't want to find out if Jake was bluffing about him being okay with me eating you, I suggest you don't snark. And you." I pointed at Rachel. "Stop trying to get a rise out of your brother and testing his patience every chance you get. Paul may never hurt you because of your imprint bond, but your brother might. He is a shifter too and he does have a temper." I turned and started to head to Jake's room, but stopped. "One more thing, do us all a favor and go to Paul's house for awhile or something."

I went to Jacob's room, opening the door and going inside the tiny shoe-box sized room.

"I wasn't bluffing," he said immediately from where he was laying on his back on the bed as I shut the door and sat lightly on the end.

"Yes, you were."

"No, I –" he broke off as I turned my head to glower at him "– okay, maybe a little bit." He held up his hand, spreading his thumb and forefinger about two millimeters apart. "But they're driving me nuts, Beau."

"You do realize that's probably part of why they do it here, right?"

"Humph."

I looked away. "I should go back to the cabin, Jake. It's wrong for me to be here like this and we both know it."

"Don't start that already, Beau." He sat up and grabbed one of my hands. "What's the point in you being at that little cabin all by yourself?"

"Edward might change his mind."

"And then what? Let's say he calls you right here and now – I can see your cell phone in your pocket. What happens if you go there and tell him the truth? You would have told him two months ago if you thought for even half of a second that he could accept it. He can't. And on the off chance that I've misjudged his character completely... there are six other members of that family. Do you think you can tell him without them finding out?"

"They aren't what I'm worried about," I whispered.

"Really? Then you're okay with tearing their unit apart? I'll freely admit that Carlisle and Esme would forgive you. But do you really need to give Rosalie more reasons to hate you? And Jasper... he's interesting after I get past all those scars." He shuddered slightly. "But he's all about protecting Alice, specifically. There's no way he'd be okay with what you've done."

I sighed. I hated him for forcibly spelling out all my concerns. Especially when I knew I'd never told them to him.

"You know, Beau, I'm not saying it's wrong to be in love with Edward. If it weren't for the fact that he keeps hurting you, I wouldn't even think of him being all that bad for you. He's really not bad, for a bloodsucker anyways. But he's never come for you, Beau, at least not since you've been human. None of them have – except Alice and that was only after she thought you were dead and gone."

"Even if all what your saying is true... there's no way for us to really be in an intimate relationship, Jake. It's not fair to you for me to hold you back like this."

"Whether you were meant to be my imprint or not... Something that I still suspect I might have been. You are imprinted on my heart. I know you aren't in love with me, but I can't say the same in reverse. So I'll take what I can get."

I flinched. "Honestly, that doesn't make me feel any better, Jake."

"It's my problem. Not yours." He closed his eyes and pressed his head to the hand that he was still holding. "Beau, I'll never stop you, if you decide to go back to Edward and try. But one thing you should think about before you do that is the fact that there might not be enough pieces of you for me to pick up if he destroys your life again." He stopped for a moment, but then continued so softly that I knew I wouldn't have heard the pained words if I'd still been human. "And I don't think I have what it takes to physically destroy you if you truly lose it."

I closed my eyes. "Okay," I said the word but I wasn't certain what I was really agreeing to with him.

He let go of my hand and fell back on his bed.

…

I sat on his bed for a couple of hours as he relaxed on his bed, neither of us speaking. It was comfortable, for us. But still, I wondered... how far would I really go with him. And even more... how much of it was for his sake, and how much was for mine. And perhaps, most important of all, which of us was going to end up being destroyed more by us even trying to have a relationship when it did finally end?

My cell phone rang without warning and I yanked it out of my pocket. In spite of myself, I couldn't help but hope it was Edward.

It wasn't. It was Alice.

I was tempted to hit end and not answer, but it could be one of the other members of the house using her phone for some strange reason... "Hello?" I said as I hit the green button on the phone.

"You need to come home and see this. Now. Bring Jacob," Alice said, and then the line went dead.

Jake was looking at me in confusion as I brought the phone down from my ear. I shrugged, mystified.