Devil Incarnate Chapter Twenty-two

Bella had locked herself in their bedroom, and he couldn't blame her. A few people had visited with her, including the kids, but Edward hadn't even attempted to enter the room. The last words she’d spoken to him reverberated in his head several times a day. Hell, he’d said them often enough himself over the years; they were meant to be cutting, after all. That she blamed him was obvious, but he figured she needed some time to move past it and accept what had happened. They all understood the risks, and there’d been a few casualties along the way. 

Each loss was a burden they’d been forced to bear, meaning time was even more of the essence. He had to come up with something, and it had to be immediately. The only person he thought would do as he asked without question was Jasper. They’d thrown around a few ideas, but never fixed the underlying issue. True, they thought the agency would be a useful ally, but it turned out they’d done nothing but hamper every move the Cullens tried to make. The only good thing coming from them was immunity for all crimes committed in the act of stopping Zion. That meant Edward could murder whoever got in his way, and law enforcement would turn a blind eye. Not having to dodge arrest would be a change of pace, and his thirst for blood had not nearly been slaked.

“Jasper,” Edward began, pacing the length of the basement safe room. “We have to act quickly now.”

“Problem is, I think they’ve made their intentions clear. They'll keep picking us off one by one until they decide to blow up the world.”

“Why have they hesitated? They have the bomb.”

“I did as you requested and reached out.” Jasper bounced his leg, clearly agitated. “They have, so far, only laughed at us.”

“Because we have nothing to trade.”

“Oh, they’re willing to trade this Lebed, but they’re holding that one close to their chest. They believe we’ll hand them over willingly, without having to make a deal with us first.”

“Then it’s not a trade. Why are they so cocky? We have to assume they have a bunker in place by now.” Stepping to the humidor, Edward pulled out two cigars. “They can't have gotten this close to their goal and not have a hole to crawl into.”

Accepting the offered cigar, Jasper said, “I agree, but we haven't found anything yet. Dara and Ben have tracked all their internet usage, and nothing has been mentioned, even in code.”

“They’re communicating face to face.” Going through the motions, Edward cut the end off his cigar and lit it. “Probably not even bothering with code, just chitchatting about fucking us over for the fun of it.”

“But then why hasn't Holden or anyone else picked up on it?”

“They’re talking in a secure room, same as us.” The woodsy scent swirling around them brought a modicum of comfort. If this wasn't stressed out, he didn't know what was. 

“Then we’re screwed and need something other than strong-arming them out of the bunker or rushing in with them.”

“We’ve had no luck finding one of our own?”

Studying his curling cigar smoke, Jasper chuckled. “Holden says there are enough places for the muckety-mucks to hide, but not civilians. They’ve had everyone important on high alert since this began.”

“Which means Zion won’t be successful taking over the world.” And, apparently, the Cullens didn’t rank high enough to save, even after stopping the crazy terrorists.

“Unless they have another plan in place to kill everyone on Capitol Hill, no.”

“That just means they have a plan B because they know about the CIA being all over their asses.” Gripping his hair in his hands until he felt the answering sting to his scalp, Edward tried to focus. The lack of sleep was catching up to him. “I haven't got a clue where we’re supposed to go from here.”

“I don't either at the moment, but I set up tasks for a few men from the Denali Family. Researching the code name Lebed for one and searching for bunkers rated to withstand a nuclear blast. They’re out there, they just typically have owners who aren't willing to share, or they belong to the government.”

“Who also aren't willing to share.”

“Not with criminals.”

Sighing, Edward sat on the couch and tilted his head back. “I need a nap.”

“Feel free. I’ll check in on the progress of my men.”

“Wake me if you find anything.”

“Of course.”

Jasper left him alone, and Edward put out the cigar to flop down on the couch. Something in his brain kept nagging at him, but it was dancing on the periphery. The more he focused on it, the further away it became. Relaxing, he tried to shut his mind off and sleep.

“I’ve got it.”

The sound of Jasper returning woke him. Blinking, Edward sat up, wondering how much time had passed. “What have you got?”

“It’s Bella.”

“What is?” He rubbed his eyes and focused on his friend.

“Lebed. It means swan.”

What little fog remaining in his brain lifted immediately. “They think I’ll hand over my wife without a fight?”

Nodding, Jasper dropped the file he held onto the coffee table. “In their words, we’ll gladly hand over the person with this code name before the end. Well, lebed is Russian for swan. They’ve killed Renee, Charlie is already dead, so the only Swan who remains alive is Bella.”

“What the hell are they offering in return? What makes them think I’d hand her over to monsters for any reason whatsoever?”

“Think about it.” Jasper sat. “In exchange for saving the world.”

“I’m supposed to agree to let them have her in exchange for not blowing everyone up?” He wouldn't hand over his worst enemy for empty promises, much less his wife. The very suggestion was offensive.

“It seems so.”

“It’s not happening.” Shoving to his feet, Edward moved to the kitchenette and set up the coffeemaker. “I can't believe their nerve.”

“Well, I can. This is what they’ve done all along. Turned us against each other, made us hate ourselves and our actions. Half the time, we’re at each other’s throats, and don't think we haven't all noticed that you and Bella are rupturing at the seams.”

“It’s not happening,” Edward repeated. “I don't care how pissed we are at each other, I refuse to give in to Zion’s outrageous demands. I won’t hand over anyone, regardless of who they ask for.”

“I understand.”

Lifting his head, Edward leveled an unwavering stare across the room. The coffeemaker gurgled, emitting steam and a heavenly aroma. Something about Jasper’s tone rankled. “Would you give them Maria if they promised not to detonate the bomb?”

“No.”

“And why not?”

Jasper held up a finger. “First, they aren't honorable. Despite whatever they might promise, I don't believe they’d keep the person safe.” He added another finger. “Second, if all they plan on doing is killing the person anyway, then we’ve only gained a different type of death. A death at their hands doesn’t sound better than dying together, with your family by your side.”

“It would be a pointless exchange.”

“Exactly.”

Satisfied Jasper wasn’t just paying lip service, Edward poured a mug of coffee and offered it to him. “There has to be an alternative.”

“We’ll keep looking.”

“Keep me updated.”

Teaghlach gach rud repeated itself in his head as Edward climbed the stairs later in the day. He had an obligation to check on his wife, and he would follow through. Tension radiated through his jaw, which was locked so tight he feared it would snap.

Knocking lightly, he tucked his hands in his trouser pockets and waited. Leah answered the door, a box of tissues in her hand. “I’m certain she doesn't want to see you.”

“I’m certain I don’t care.”

Tilting her head in acquiescence, Leah pushed the door open wider. Edward moved past her, finding Bella in the same place he’d last seen her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he touched her shoulder and whispered her name. 

She bolted up like a shot from a cannon, red-faced and full of molten wrath. “Get your hands off me!”

Ignoring her outburst, he asked calmly, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yes, you can fucking leave.” A sob heaved itself from her thin frame. “Get out of the house, get out of my life!”

“You know that’s not going to happen.” Aware of a growing audience behind him, he dropped his voice to a soothing tone. “I’m very sorry for what happened, Bella. I only want to help you grieve.”

“It’s too late for you to help me with anything. Every action has a price, and I’ve recently figured out what mine is. Everything I did was for you—because of you—and look at the consequences.”

Her tears formed a stone of pity in his gut, but her words lit it on fire. “You can't honestly think this is some karma bullshit for our former life.”

“Of course it is!”

A boom of thunder clapped over the house, and Edward dropped his head. How fitting that the heavens should be crying; they, too, mourned the loss of his marriage. He felt himself losing her as surely as if she ran far and fast in the other direction. “Teaghlach gach rud. We cling to each other in the storm, we don’t set one another adrift.”

“Fuck you and your family is everything crap. Somehow, your family has managed to screw me from the grave.”

Edward was born stubborn, as they all knew. Maybe it was the Irish in him, or maybe it was the years of training from his father. Either way, he would deal with something being wrong for the rest of his life, no matter how foolish. All he knew in his life was being married to Bella. She’d been his everything for so very long, and now she pulled away from him as though he were the cold-blooded monster who’d murdered her mother. He was too bull-headed to give up, which used to make him the perfect mafia boss. But now, faced with growing agony, he was clueless which path he should take. “Bella, please try to understand, it’s no one’s fault.”

She was already shaking her head before the words left his mouth. “Can’t you see? I am what you made me, so congratulations. You ended up with a wife who speaks her mind and has her own set of convictions. It is your fault, and I don't want to see the face of my mother’s killer ever again.”

“Edward.”

It was Jake standing behind him, who had the nerve to put his hand on Edward’s shoulder when he was so tightly reined in. “Don't touch me, Jacob.”

“It’s time to go. Bella clearly wants to be left alone.”

Finally, a target for his fury. Standing and rounding on his wife’s oldest friend, Edward ground his teeth. “You ever been punched in the face for talking too much?”

Jake bowed up, straightening to his full height with his chest out. “I’m not looking for a fight, man.”

“Éirigh as mo radharc.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“Get out of my sight!” Edward roared.

Instead of waiting for Jake to move, Edward shoved past him and down the stairs. He needed an outlet of some kind, and he was afraid he’d start throwing punches at the next person he saw.

“Hey, Edward, what the hell?” Emmett called after him.

He didn't slow down, but he also knew Emmett could catch up easily. Edward made his way to the basement, hearing the answering footsteps of his cousin. Trying to choose between the gym and the gun range, he instead punched the wall the instant he stepped into the room.

“Fuck!” he hollered, though it didn't dispel his rage. His hand throbbed, his knuckles bled all over the floor. He felt nothing but the drowning, the endless pull of pitch black.

“Jesus, what’s wrong?” Emmett asked.

Spinning, Edward tried to catch his breath. Everything was slipping away. “Bella blames me for all of it, from Zion targeting us, to the death of her mother, right down to the bubonic plague.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“She won’t let me speak to her, not without lashing out, and her lap dog is right there to kick me out of my own motherfucking bedroom.” No, they were simply too far gone. The sooner he accepted it, the better for them both.

A hurricane of emotions buffeted around him, leaving him at a loss. Aching deep in his soul, he sank to the floor and tried to figure out what the fuck to do next. 

He was strong. He was Edward fucking Cullen; nothing and no one brought him to his knees. Struggling to stand, he stared at Emmett’s concerned expression.

“New plan.”

Safe Room