fifteen | luminescent

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TWO WEEKS HAD PASSED SINCE HARRY CLEARWATER DIED. The people of the reservation had laid him to rest three days after his death, but even with the finality of it all, sometimes it still didn't feel real. Billy was mourning the death of his best friend, and the family Harry had left behind were going through a rough time. Things in La Push were rather dreary, and Callie hated how things were turning out— all because of vampires.

Harry wouldn't have had that heart attack if Victoria hadn't startled him the way she did. Victoria wouldn't have been in the area if she wasn't trying to hunt down Bella Swan. She wouldn't have been hunting Bella down if Edward Cullen hadn't killed Victoria's mate in order to save Bella's life. Killing Victoria's mate wouldn't have been necessary if the Cullens hadn't gotten involved with Bella; or if they hadn't even been in Forks, at all.

Everything that was happening, even if they didn't mean for any of it to happen... it was because of them. Callie could feel her heart hardening because of it. She could feel the beginnings of a grudge starting to form within her chest: a grudge against Bella Swan and the vampire coven she so loved. And despite all of that, she couldn't help but hold a grudge against Bella for the way Jacob was hurting. He adored Bella Swan to pieces, and she discarded him so readily when Edward Cullen came back to town. Callie wouldn't forgive her for that, even though she knew that her cousin would. 

"I think that blouse would look marvelous with your skin tone."

At the sudden voice, Callie released the shirt she'd been looking at and glanced over to see the person who had spoken to her. The person in question was short and lithe, with smooth ivory skin and golden eyes framed with high cheekbones and dark, short-cropped hair. Although Callie had never crossed a Cullen in person, she knew very well what they each looked like— after all, they were the talk of the town. "Thanks," she mumbled, her heart thudding in her chest as she attempted to turn and walk away.

"Your name is Calliope, right?" The vampire questioned, her voice polite and inviting as she followed Callie over to an assortment of sweaters and cardigans. "I'm Alice Cullen. I just wanted to thank you for looking after Bella while we were away. I know how hard you worked at it."

"I didn't do it for you," Callie couldn't help but say. She spoke rather bluntly, even though her anxiety was sky-rocketing due to being so near to a vampire. "And I didn't do it for Bella, either. She's spiteful and ungrateful and quite frankly, I'm not too fond of her for how she's treated myself, my family and my friends."

Alice blinked, rather shocked at what she was hearing. She tried to find the words to say, but was cut off anyway as another vampire appeared: this one with a modelesque figure and long golden curls spilling over her shoulders. There was a smirk adorned on her beautiful face as she looked Callie over. "Finally, someone who doesn't find Bland Bella as endearing as everyone else," she commented thoughtfully. "I like you. Even if you do reek like those mutts."

"Rosalie." Alice sighed, though it didn't seem she was surprised at Rosalie's dislike of Bella.

"Is there a problem?" Rose snipped at her adoptive sister. Before Alice had the chance to say anything, she flipped her golden hair over one shoulder and started toward the check-out line with the few items of clothing in her hands. "Let's go. I've weeded out the only wearable items in this boutique, and I'm tired of being here."

The smaller vampire began to walk away, but paused and turned back to Callie. "If you didn't do it for us, or for Bella... who did you do it for?"

"My cousin," Callie answered her. "Bella doesn't deserve him, but she means a lot to Jake for some reason. I did it for him."

"You are a good person, Calliope." Alice smiled softly. "If you hadn't been raised to hate our kind, maybe we could have been friends."

Callie didn't respond, holding her breath as Rose finished checking out and left the boutique. Alice skipped after her with a bright smile on her face, as though she hadn't a care in the world. She probably didn't. The Cullens were immortal and, for the most part, mildly indestructible. They could go anywhere and do anything, for they weren't tied down by things like time, or family, or attachments to their hometown. 

Maybe Calliope would have envied them that, if she didn't love her family so much, if she didn't love the reservation so much― or if she was in a rush to get on with the rest of her life, like so many other people she knew. Truth be told, though, Callie didn't envy them. She was content with her life in La Push, content to live there for the remainder of it alongside her family and friends. And she wasn't in a rush either, because she already knew what she wanted to do with her life.

The Cullens could keep their ageless beauty and immortality. Callie wouldn't trade her life for anything.

"What just happened?" Kim's voice had Callie turning around, seeing both Kim and Emily standing there with several pieces of clothing in their arms and a look of shock on each of their faces. "Why did they talk to you? What did they say?"

"Nothing relevant," Callie answered dismissively.

× × × × ×

AN HOUR LATER, THE GIRLS RETURNED TO EMILY'S HOUSE and walked inside to find that Sam had, unsurprisingly, ordered pizzas due to Emily's absence. The guys were lost without Emily around to have food ready for them when they got off patrol, and it had been funny to see the looks on their faces when the girls had announced they were going shopping that day. "But Emily! What are we supposed to eat when we get back?" Embry had complained. Callie had responded for Emily by grabbing the last muffin and throwing it at his face with a laugh.

"Hey! Did you have—" Sam's words stopped abruptly the moment he got a good whiff of the scents that wafted off of them. His expression darkened. "What happened?"

"Nothing bad," Emily attempted to assure him. She set her bags down and walked over to wrap her arms around Sam just as the other guys filed into the kitchen, having heard what was being said.

"What's going on?" Jared asked with a frown. "What— oh." Their expressions shifted as well, once they caught the familiar, sickly-sweet scent in the air.

Paul's gaze narrowed as he approached Callie, placing his hands on her shoulders and leaning close to her. "God, their scent is all over you," he muttered in disgust. "What did they do to you? Which ones? I swear to God I'll cross that fucking treaty line if they—"

"They didn't hurt me," Callie cut him off, reaching up to place her hands over his as they still rested on her shoulder. "The little one, Alice, she apparently just wanted to thank me for looking after Bella."

Jared snorted. "Did you tell her to fuck off?"

"They shouldn't have spoken to you at all," Paul said through clenched teeth. "They know better, especially because of the stupid mind-reader."

The Cullens were well aware of who Calliope Black was. They knew that she was Billy Black's beloved niece, Jacob's loyal cousin, and they knew she was Paul's imprint, too. They even knew that she had strange abilities of her own. Edward had seen it all in Jacob's mind: the several times Jake had talked Callie into going to check on Bella, to spend time with Bella and make sure she was okay; and the moment Jake found out Paul imprinted on his cousin, which had prompted the first of two fights between the two of them, the one Callie didn't know about; and even the moment that Callie had protected Bella from Laurent with some sort of telekinetic power. He had reported these things to his family, and they were all curious about the human with supernatural abilities.

Paul did not like the idea that the vampires across town were interested in his girl at all. He didn't like knowing they had been near to her, knowing they had spoken to her, knowing that they had even been within three hundred feet of her. Especially because he hadn't been there with her.

"Paul, it's fine," Callie told him with a sigh. "Anyway. We're still going to have that bonfire soon, right?" She asked the others hopefully. "It's the only thing that Uncle Billy has been looking forward to, and I talked Cora into switching me shifts so I could have the day off for it."

Sam nodded at her question with a slight smile on his face, Emily still tucked inside his arms. He rested his chin on the top of her head. "Yeah, we're still doing it."

"I can't wait," Kim said with a smile. She was excited for the bonfire; it was going to be her first one, and she was looking forward to hearing the tribe's legends. Plus, with everything going on lately, she thought it was good that the pack would have one night to unwind and just... relax, for once. Now that the Cullens were back in town, they were helping keep an eye out for Victoria. She didn't like the Cullens very much, but Kim appreciated that their vigilance allowed the pack to rest a little bit more than they had been able to. "You ready, Cal? I'll drop you off on my way home," she said, turning to her best friend.

Frowning at the scowl still on Paul's face, Callie stepped away from him. He seemed to be deep in thought, and didn't say anything as she moved away. "Yeah, I'm ready." After saying their goodbyes to everyone— and after Jared stole a few goodnight kisses from his imprint— the two girls headed out.

When Calliope returned home, she could hear Jacob snoring the second she opened the door. The corner of her mouth lifted slightly at the familiar sound, although it felt like she hadn't heard it in quite some time. Jake only snored loudly when he was in a deep sleep, and lately, he hadn't slept much at all. None of them had, really. 

"He's been asleep for a good four hours now," her uncle's voice broke the otherwise-silent atmosphere of the house as Callie slipped off her shoes. She glanced behind her, long dark hair spilling over her shoulder, and saw him sitting at the kitchen table with two old books laid out in front of him. Walking closer, the teenage girl realized that one of the old books was actually the old journal she had found with Kim and Emily. "Take a seat, Callie-bear."

She hesitated. "Uncle Billy—"

"Would you like to know more about who you are, or not?" He asked pointedly. Nodding, Callie slid into the chair across from him. She eyed the second book in front of him curiously. It seemed to be another journal, but she couldn't make out what it said. "I was rolling past your bedroom the other day and saw this peeking out from under your mattress," Billy said, tapping the journal Callie had found. "Hope you aren't upset that I took the liberty of looking to see what it was." She shrugged lightly. Billy never snooped through her room or Jake's. On the rare occasions that he did, it was only because he had good intentions. "Old Quil had this journal at his place, and he found it when the two of us were looking into your ability."

"And?" Callie asked with wide, anxious eyes. Her nimble fingers picked at a loose thread on the sleeve of her olive-green sweater. 

"You are the tribe's fourth Luminescent," Billy informed her. When the brown-eyed girl simply stared at him, her expression clearly conveying the fact that she didn't have the slightest clue what he was talking about, he continued. "A Luminescent is born of Taha Aki's bloodline. The spirits only gift the tribe with a Luminescent once every two centuries, and for whatever reason, Calliope— they've chosen you."

"I... I don't get it." She shook her head with a frown. "What's a Luminescent? What do the spirits expect me to do?"

"Protect the pack."

Callie's eyebrows rose. "The pack? You mean the people who shift into wolves four times the size of me?"

Billy nodded. "The pack is oftentimes too busy protecting the tribe to look out for themselves," he responded. "And the spirits bless one of our own as the Luminescent every few centuries, particularly in a troubling time for the tribe." He clasped his hands together and looked at his niece head-on. "I know that the boys won't be happy about this— especially Jacob and Paul... but you were destined for this, Callie." Tapping the journal he had found in her room, he added, "And since you were keeping this hidden, I know you've been looking into your abilities for the very same reason the spirits gave them to you in the first place."

Her cheeks flushed, but there was no use trying to deny it. "Well, yeah... but I haven't figured out how to control my powers yet."

"This journal may help you." Billy slid the journal she hadn't seen yet over to her, along with the one she'd already had. "After the bonfire, I'll speak with the pack. They'll help you build your strength." Callie nodded quietly, looking down at the tattered, old journals in front of her. For a moment, they were silent before Billy spoke up again. "What happened today?"

She looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

He gave her a knowing look. "I can tell when something's bothering you, Callie-bear."

Sighing, the girl gave in. "Two of the Cullens approached me at the boutique in Forks today," she admitted. "Alice and Rosalie." When her uncle's expression instantly twisted into a protective scowl, Callie was quick to add, "They didn't do anything, just talked to me. Actually, they were kind of nice." She shrugged. "But obviously I smelled like them when I went back to Emily's, and everyone freaked out. Paul was... a little excessive."

"He's only looking out for you," Billy told her gently. "Paul cares for you a great deal."

"I know he does," Callie admitted. "And— and that's the problem, Uncle Billy."

The older man looked at her in surprise. "The problem?"

"Yes, because— how am I supposed to... to protect the pack, like the Luminescent is supposed to?" She asked. "Paul's never going to let me put myself in danger."

"Well, I suppose it isn't really up to him, is it?" Were it any other shifter and imprint, Billy would have encouraged the imprint to follow their shifter's decision. It is their natural instinct to protect their imprint and do what's best for them, after all. But now that he knew what Callie was, her situation with Paul had to be different. Paul needed to learn that Calliope was meant for something greater than hunkering down while the pack did all the fighting, and he needed to trust her enough to let her get out there and do it. They would have to protect each other. "Anyway, it's getting late." Billy wheeled around the table and ruffled his niece's hair, mustering up a smile for her. "This old man's gonna watch some TV before I head to bed. Get some rest, will you?"

Callie nodded, kissing her uncle on the forehead before making her way down the hall. Upon entering her bedroom, she tucked the two journals Billy had given her into one of her desk drawers. Then she grabbed some clean underwear, an old t-shirt, and a pair of soft gray shorts before retreating into the bathroom to take a hot shower. Her mind was full of thoughts, ranging from her brief conversation with Alice and Rosalie that afternoon, to the strange abilities she needed to learn how to use. 

She wasn't sure how long she was in the shower, but when she went back to her room, the door was slightly ajar. Pushing it open the rest of the way, Callie was met with the sight of Paul lying back on her bed with his hands behind his head. "You ran out of ceiling space," he said as she entered the room, his gaze admiring all the pieces of artwork she had taped to her ceiling. "What are you going to do when you run out of wall space?"

Callie gave a small shrug as she glanced around the room, eyeing the small sections of her walls that hadn't been covered yet. "I don't know. Maybe try to hang some stuff out in the hallway, or something."

Paul hummed in thought. "You could put some stuff up in my room," he offered.

"I've never even seen your room." Sitting down on the side of her bed, she added, "And what stuff would you even want to hang in your room, anyway?"

He pointed toward a painting on the upper left section of her ceiling. "Well, I like that one." He pointed toward another one. "And that one.... But that one down there is my favorite." 

Callie laid down next to him to see the ones he was talking about, and she looked at the piece that was his favorite in surprise. "I forgot that was even up there," she admitted. 

It was a painting of herself— a self-portrait, done only because it had been assigned as a project for art class. In the painting, an eight year-old Callie was laying on the beach, her dark hair splayed around her head with specks of sand littered in it here and there. She was laughing as she looked toward the left, her hand reaching out in that direction, fingers just barely grazing a larger hand. 

Her aunt Sarah had taken that picture when they'd all taken a trip to the beach on a rare sunny afternoon. Jake had pushed her down in the sand so that he could win in their third race against each other, after having lost to her in the first two. Callie had only laughed at her cousin, and her mother had laughed with her, teasing the boy as she reached out to help her daughter up off of the ground. As Callie reached out to take her mother's hand, her aunt had snapped a picture of the moment.

Callie didn't like the self-portrait project much, because she didn't like painting herself. However, she was glad her teacher gave them the option of choosing any portrait. She wanted to use the one where she was reaching out to her mom; she wanted some small piece of her mother to be included in a painting that was supposed to show who Callie was. Because even though Nora was gone, Callie liked to think that her mother was still with her; that she was a part of her.

"Why is that one your favorite?" She asked Paul, her nose scrunched up slightly.

"It's the only painting of you. And you're happy in it." He shrugged. "The kind of happy that didn't know what sadness was like yet."

"Paul..."

"This world fucked you over and it isn't fair," he told her, still staring up at the ceiling. "Your dad, whoever he is— he's seriously fucking missing out on an awesome daughter. And you shouldn't have had to lose your mom so young. And that stupid fucking Micah guy should have never treated you the way he did—"

"Paul, it's okay."

"It's not okay," he cut her off. Paul looked at her then, his eyes burning with emotion. "Honestly, Callie. It's not okay, and you have to stop saying that it is. You're the best person I know. You don't deserve to be sad, ever."

"Maybe." She turned her body toward him so that she could look at him better. "But people who have known sadness get to appreciate their happy moments so much more, right?"

Paul's expression softened at her words. He didn't know what to say in response to that. Calliope always had such a unique way of looking at things, and it always threw him off, but it made him adore her that much more. "I guess so," he mumbled, reaching for her. She allowed him to wrap her up in his arms, sighing in content. "By the way... I'm sorry for how I reacted when you came back to Emily's earlier."

"You were only concerned, Paul. It's alright."

"Yeah... At least you washed the stench off of you," he added

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