𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑. paul lahote ✓

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄

┏━━━━⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆☾ ﾟ｡⋆━━━━┓

KILLER

PAUL LAHOTE WAS NO IDIOT.

When Augustine had hung up abruptly, he felt a certain unease wash over him. When he tried calling back, it went to voicemail.

Over and over again.

He phased without thinking and darted out of his backyard before racing to Sam's, calling to his packmates in his mind. Something was wrong, and if it was anything Volturi related, he knew he'd need their help. She was his Imprint after all, and that made her safety the pack's top priority; just like how Emily and Kim were.

They'd been sitting in Sam's kitchen beneath a tense fog of silence while the Alpha himself tried calling Jacob for the third time in a row. Paul had just tried calling Bella, and even she wasn't answering. "Where the fuck are they?" he growled out in annoyance, having half the mind to storm over to the Cullen residence and find her himself.

Jared's comforting hand was slapped into his shoulder, only for Paul to tear it off with a snarl. He was on edge, didn't need the weight on his already tensed body. He was thankful when Jared put a little space between them, knowing he would've lashed out at his friend if he hadn't.

"I'm sure there's an explanation for all of this," Sam said, always the level-headed one. He put his phone back in his cargo pocket, rounding the table full of his pack members. "We just need to—"

Paul's phone started to ring, and an obnoxious ringtone to the tune of an ABBA song that the ravenette loved sounded throughout the room. Dancing Queen. He dove to answer, pressing it against his ear. "Auggie! Thank fuck, I almost—"

"Paul." the voice on the other end of the line did not belong to the girl in question, no. He recognized it immediately though as the blonde girl who still managed to always call him a dog.

"Rosalie?" he questioned, confusion laced in his tone. "Why do you have her phone?"

There was a beat of silence before the blonde girl answered, her tone kept short and tensed. "Let's get one thing straight: I do not like you. But, you deserve to know," she began, and though her usual hostility was dampened, there was still something else in her voice that Paul couldn't place. "There was an accident."

Paul stood, the chair he was sitting in toppling backward as Sam instantly rushed to stand before him. He was frozen, and every member of the pack could practically smell the anger radiating off of him.

Sam snatched the phone from his grasp. "Tell us what happened," he demanded, phone to his ear knowing the others would still be able to hear.

"She called Emmett; all he knew was that she was by the creek," was her response, and Paul really didn't think he could tense up even more, but he did. She was harmed at their spot by someone— by a killer. "She's in surgery with Carlisle now but... it's not looking good."

That wasn't right. "Surgery? For a vampire?" Sam asked, meeting Paul's gaze with equal bewilderment.

"That's the thing, Sam," she sighed, and suddenly Paul could identify the emotion in her tone; it was fear.