Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Apex
Mame abruptly stopped his dead sprint, his heavy boots skidding across the wet pine needles as he anchored himself in the center of a dark, rain-soaked clearing.
He slowly turned around.
A moment later, James emerged from the shadows. The tracker wasn't running; he was practically strutting, a twisted, euphoric grin plastered across his ash-stained face. To James, the suffocating stench of the traps and the heavy aura Mame projected were just spices added to an already perfect meal.
James threw his head back and let out a cold, echoing laugh that pierced through the sound of the storm.
"This is it," James hissed, his red eyes gleaming with absolute delight. "This is the best hunt I have had in a century. You have traps. You have nerve. But you stopped too soon. Go on. Run, little man, run. Let me enjoy the hunt a little longer."
Mame stood perfectly still, his posture completely relaxed, his hands resting easily at his sides.
"Run?" Mame echoed, his voice dropping into a deadly, vibrating calm. "Why would I run from my prey?"
The twisted smile vanished from James's face instantly. The arrogance shattered, replaced by a sudden, violent indignation. His supernatural pride could not process the insult.
"Prey?" James snarled, dropping into a predatory crouch, his muscles coiling tight. "I am not prey! I am the predator! I am the hunter!"
"Not anymore," Mame said, his dark eyes locking onto the vampire. "I am the hunter now."
With a flick of his wrist, Mame pulled the [Sunlight Grenade] from his inventory. It looked like a heavy, metallic cylinder. He pulled the pin and lobbed it directly at James's face.
Infuriated and acting on pure, arrogant reflex, James didn't dodge. He reached out to snatch the projectile out of the air, intending to throw it right back at the insolent human.
But he never touched it.
The grenade detonated a foot from James's outstretched hand.
There was no fire, no concussive shockwave—only light. A concentrated, blindingly lethal burst of pure, unadulterated UV radiation erupted in the dark woods. It was as if a piece of the midday sun had been compressed into a flash-bang.
James unleashed a blood-curdling scream.
The pure UV radiation violently scorched his pale skin, instantly inflicting the equivalent of severe second and third-degree burns across his face and hands. The blinding flash overloaded his sensitive, nocturnal vision, leaving him staggering backward, clutching his burning eyes in absolute agony.
Mame didn't waste a millisecond.
His Rank B agility exploded. Closing the distance before the tracker could even process the pain, Mame utilized the brutal, no-nonsense combat skills Sam Uley had beaten into him over the last two weeks. He ducked under James's flailing, blinded swing and drove a devastating hook directly into the vampire's ribcage.
A sickening crack echoed in the clearing. Mame followed up with a sweeping kick to James's knee, shattering the joint and dropping the lethal tracker into the mud. Mame instantly mounted him, pinning the vampire down, and unleashed a merciless, calculated barrage of strikes.
The Observers
A mile away, Edward and Emmett were tearing through the dark woods, tracking the faint, lingering scent of the chase, when the night sky suddenly lit up. A brilliant, blinding flash of white light pierced through the thick forest canopy ahead of them, followed immediately by a horrific, agonizing scream.
"That's James!" Edward shouted, pushing his supernatural speed to its absolute limit.
Emmett was right behind him. They burst through the treeline and into the clearing, completely prepared to throw themselves into a desperate battle to save Bella's human brother.
Instead, they froze in their tracks.
The clearing smelled heavily of scorched ozone and burnt flesh. James, the legendary, lethal tracker who had terrorized the continent for decades, was pinned to the ground. He was desperately trying to protect his blistered face with his arms, whimpering and snarling in blind panic.
And Mame was on top of him, systematically punching the living—or rather, dead—shit out of him.
CRACK. THUD. CRACK.
Emmett's golden eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated shock. He saw one of James's arms bent at a completely unnatural angle, the marble-like bone inside visibly fractured from the sheer kinetic force of Mame's blows.
But as Edward focused his enhanced vision, his stomach plummeted.
Mame was winning, but at a terrible physical cost. Even with his Rank B enhanced strength, Mame's body was still fundamentally mortal. Striking a vampire was like punching solid concrete. With every brutal, crushing blow Mame landed on James's face, the skin on Mame's own knuckles tore further.
Mame's hands were shredded, completely slick with his own warm, red blood. It coated James's pale, scorched skin and splattered onto the wet mud. The pain had to be excruciating, mind-shattering, but Mame's face was a mask of cold, terrifying indifference. He didn't stop. He didn't even slow down. Powered by pure, iron-clad willpower, Mame drew his bloody fist back and slammed it down again.
"Holy hell," Emmett breathed, actually taking a subconscious half-step backward. "He's really going to kill him."
Edward stood paralyzed, staring at the blood. The scent of Mame's torn hands was in the air, but the overwhelming brutality of the scene completely bypassed Edward's thirst. For the first time in his long, immortal life, Edward Cullen felt a flicker of genuine fear toward a human being.
The brutal, rhythmic sound of Mame's fists hitting James echoed in the clearing, accompanied by the wet splatter of his own blood.
It was Emmett who finally snapped out of the paralyzing shock. The sheer amount of fresh, hot human blood spraying into the air was beginning to burn the back of his throat, and the primal instinct of the vampire was warring with the horror of the scene.
"Edward, grab the tracker!" Emmett yelled, launching himself forward.
Emmett tackled Mame from behind. He didn't hold back; he wrapped his massive, tree-trunk arms around Mame's torso, locking his hands together to form an unbreakable vice. Even then, Mame's Rank B strength was terrifying. Emmett's boots dug deep trenches into the mud as he strained with his full supernatural might just to drag the boy off the broken tracker.
"Enough, Mame! That's enough!" Emmett grunted, his muscles straining against Mame's furious resistance.
The second James was clear, Edward moved. He darted forward, grabbing the scorched, whimpering tracker by his torn collar. He hoisted James effortlessly into the air.
"Listen to me," Edward hissed into James's ruined face, his golden eyes burning with absolute severity. "You leave this territory right now. You run, and you do not ever return to Forks. Because if you do, we won't be here to pull him off you next time."
Edward didn't wait for James to respond. He threw the tracker over his shoulder and vanished into the heavy rain, using his maximum speed to haul James miles away from the Swan property line.
Back in the clearing, Mame suddenly went entirely still. The frantic, kinetic struggle against Emmett's hold stopped the moment his enhanced senses confirmed James was gone.
Mame stood there, breathing heavily, his back pressed against Emmett's chest. He looked down at his own hands. The skin across his knuckles was completely flayed, exposing the dense muscle and bone underneath. The pain was blinding, but his face remained a mask of cold, terrifying calm.
"You shouldn't have done that," Mame said, his voice flat and devoid of adrenaline. "You can let me go now."
Emmett immediately released his hold and took three rapid steps backward. The burly vampire threw a hand over his nose and mouth, his golden eyes suddenly wide and completely black as the thirst hit him like a physical blow.
"Damn it, Mame," Emmett choked out, his voice strained as he fought his own nature. "You need to bandage those hands up now. The smell... it's too much. There is so much blood."
Mame slowly turned around, his ruined hands dripping crimson onto the wet pine needles. He looked at Emmett, seeing the genuine struggle in the vampire's posture. He respected Emmett for fighting it, and he knew pushing a "vegetarian" vampire when they were surrounded by this much fresh blood was a terrible tactical decision.
"Go," Mame said simply. He reached into his system inventory with a wince, pulling out a thick roll of medical gauze and the [Lesser Restorative Draught]. "Make sure your brother actually got him out of the county. I'll see you at your house after I clean this up."
Emmett didn't need to be told twice. He gave Mame one last, deeply unsettled look—part respect, part sheer disbelief—before turning and bolting into the woods, desperate to get away from the overwhelming scent of the blood.
Mame stood alone in the dark, raining woods.
Soft Chime.
[Threat Neutralized (Partial)]
Target: James (Tracker).
Status: Deterred / Critically Injured.
Warning: Host has sustained severe physical trauma to extremities.
Fate Points Awarded: +3,000 FP (Surviving an Apex Predator).
Mame uncorked the restorative draught with his teeth, pouring the cool liquid over his shredded knuckles. The tissue immediately began to aggressively knit itself back together, though the deep bone fractures would take longer to set. He began tightly wrapping the gauze around his hands.
He hadn't killed James, but he had sent a message that the entire Cullen coven—and any vampire who ever heard the story—would never forget.
The Successor of Helsing had arrived.
The heavy tires of the red Chevy truck crunched against the pristine gravel of the Cullen driveway. Mame shifted the truck into park, killed the engine, and stepped out into the rain. He took a slow, steadying breath, suppressing the lingering throb in his knuckles, and walked up the steps to the massive glass-walled house.
The moment he pushed the heavy front door open, the tense atmosphere in the living room shattered.
"Mame!"
Bella practically flew across the room. She threw her arms around his waist, burying her face in his damp jacket. She was shaking like a leaf. Mame gently patted her back with his wrists, keeping his heavily bandaged, blood-soaked hands elevated.
"I'm okay, Bells. I'm okay," Mame said quietly, his crushing Rank B aura retracting so he didn't overwhelm her. "Dad is safe, right?"
"Jasper brought him in," Bella sniffled, pulling back and looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Carlisle looked at him. He has a concussion, but he's resting in one of the guest rooms. He's going to be fine."
Then, Bella looked down. She saw the thick layers of white gauze wrapped around Mame's hands, rapidly staining a bright, terrifying crimson. She gasped, covering her mouth.
Carlisle was there in an instant. The ancient doctor's face was a mask of deep, clinical shock and profound respect. He gently reached out, hovering his cold, pale hands over Mame's bloody ones.
"May I?" Carlisle asked softly.
"Go ahead," Mame nodded, leaning against the wall.
Carlisle carefully unwound the soaked gauze. Even with the [Lesser Restorative Draught] doing its work, the sheer damage was visceral. The skin was still raw, and the underlying knuckles looked as though they had been put through a meat grinder. But Carlisle's golden eyes widened as he closely examined the tissue.
"Fascinating," Carlisle breathed, his medical expertise completely thrown out the window. "The density of your muscle fibers... and your bone structure is already knitting itself back together. A human would have lost the use of their hands forever from this kind of trauma. You hit him with that much force?"
"He has a hard head," Mame replied dryly.
Suddenly, a sharp, violent hiss echoed through the massive living room.
Everyone froze. Standing near the base of the grand staircase was Edyth. Edward's twin sister shared his bronze hair and striking, statuesque features, but right now, she looked entirely feral.
Her golden eyes had turned completely, aggressively black. She was gripping the wooden banister so hard the wood was splintering under her fingers. Her body was trembling violently as she stared directly at Mame's bleeding hands. The scent of his fresh, hot blood was filling the room, and to her, it wasn't just blood. It was the most intoxicating, irresistible scent in the entire world.
"Edyth!" Esme gasped, taking a step toward her adopted daughter.
"Don't... come near me!" Edyth choked out, her fangs fully bared. She slapped her hands over her own mouth and nose, looking at Mame with a terrifying mixture of absolute hunger and desperate panic.
Jasper immediately stepped forward, pushing waves of heavy, lethargic calm toward her, but his eyes widened in sudden realization. He looked from Bella to Edward (who had just walked through the front door behind Mame), and then from Mame to Edyth.
"It's not just the amount of blood," Jasper realized aloud, his southern drawl thick with shock. "It's the scent. Mame is to Edyth what Bella is to Edward. They are both singers. La tua cantante. Both siblings."
Esme gasped softly, looking at the two Swans. The odds of a single human family producing two singers for vampire twins were so infinitesimally small they bordered on impossible.
Edyth let out a tortured, strangled cry. Unable to fight the primal urge any longer and terrified she might actually lunge at the boy her family was sworn to protect, she spun around. In a blur of supernatural speed, she fled down the hall, slamming the heavy reinforced door to the basement behind her to lock herself away from the scent.
Silence descended on the living room, save for the rain tapping against the glass walls.
Mame stood there, completely unbothered by the fact that a lethal vampire had just almost lost her mind trying to eat him. He looked at the basement door, then back to Carlisle and Jasper, his expression a mask of deadpan confusion.
"Well," Mame said, raising an eyebrow. "She's done that twice now since I moved to town. Did I do something to her, or does she just really hate the smell of wet dog and gasoline?"