Chapter Text
The ride home was short, even by my standards. I was too ensnared in analyzing Bella’s every word, every expression, to remember the contempt brewing in my sister’s mind.
Rosalie was waiting for me in the garage, perched lightly on the hood of my Aston Martin. Perhaps Alice was wrong about it surviving this. I sighed deeply, then opened the driver’s door.
What were you thinking! Idiot! She snarled, lips pulled back to expose all of her teeth. “I don’t want to move again!” Unspoken, periphery concern for Emmett registered. “What if she says something!” You would really risk our family over some stupid mortal?
“She knew already.” My tone was defensive, but for once I was telling the full truth concerning her. “Jacob Black—Ephraim Black’s great-grandson, if I have the timeline right—told her last Saturday.”
Shock erased her furious expression, and her thoughts quieted. …Huh. So much for that treaty. Next we’ll have a war on our hands…because of her. “Ugh! You are so frustrating!” She slammed her stone hand, palm-open, onto the hood. I winced as it sunk into the carbon fiber, creating a halo of miniscule cracks. “You could have told her the story was superstition, not confirmed it!”
Alice’s light graceful steps pronounced her entrance, though we’d both heard her coming. “Now, Rose,” she said reproachfully, “you love that car almost as much as Edward does.”
“Wish he loved our family half as much,” she seethed, glaring at me.
I wanted to respond with some acidic remark—did she really think that I didn’t love them?—but I was distracted by another of Alice’s visions of my Martin being destroyed, this time reduced to a toaster-sized sculpture of a hand holding up a middle finger. I had to give Rosalie this much; she was, at least, creative as she was vexing.
“It was going to happen regardless,” Alice shrugged.
“You’re just as obsessed with her as he is,” Rosalie shot at her. Honestly! We’re vampires, for God’s sake; how can they collectively lose their minds? Carlisle should do some research. Quickly. Her teeth ground together, and she thought of a few creative places I could stick my car when she was done mangling it.
I grinned; her glare turned into a glower. “I’m not quite sure that would work. Physically.”
“Oh, I’ll make it work,” she growled.
Carlisle and Esme approached, their thoughts resigned; apparently, they had decided to intervene. Emmett and Jasper were nowhere in the vicinity.
There is no rest for the wicked, Carlisle thought sardonically as they flitted into the garage.
“Carlisle, Esme, Edward told the human what we are!”
Perhaps…. Esme did not yet know what Bella looked like, but an immortal face swam in her head. Perhaps this is the outcome meant for my son. She was too slow to shield the thought from me, and she looked away from my glare—softened, always, for her.
Carlisle was less pleased, though his thoughts followed her exact path. His golden eyes were, however, unbearably understanding, regarding me with loving disapproval. She’s quick, then. You would not have told her yourself.
I nodded stiffly. There was no need to repeat the detail about Jacob; my parents had been plenty close to hear it.
“Rosalie, Edward loves her. I love her. We aren’t going to force you into anything—”
I broke Alice off with a chortle that I didn’t even try to hide. Nearly delirious humor arose at the thought of attempting to make Rosalie do anything. Deep shame blossomed beneath it, filling my empty chest, as Alice’s other words—and their implications—sunk in. Rosalie and Alice both glared at me. Esme shot me a warning glace; Carlisle was resigned.
“As if we could.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “You are far too stubborn. What is done has been done; destroy my car if it makes you feel better. I can assure you, Bella is trustworthy.”
“Are you?” She held her glare as I took a step toward her, snarling viciously as I saw the direction of her thoughts. I meant her no danger, as she knew, but the wrath pulsed through me. At the same time…she had a point.
I clenched my jaw and broke off our furious eye contact.
I was dangerous. And the more time I spent with Bella, the more likely it was that I would slip up. Alice’s vision of the meadow, the one where Bella did not make it out, swam before my eyes. If only she didn’t insist on having no witnesses! And yet, another part of me ached desperately for as much time alone with her as possible. She was constantly in danger of being wrenched from me…mostly by my own hellish nature.
Perhaps our family would not be immediately to blame if I committed this ultimate sin, but with the attention I was pulling at the high school….
Rosalie saw the defeat in my face. She jutted her chin toward the sky.
“I won’t hurt your precious car,” she said curtly, leaping off of it. “Only for all the work I put into it. Be careful. I will be extremely angry if we have to move because of your pigheadedness.” She walked toward the entrance, then glanced back. Her eyes touched Esme, then turned sadly away. I don’t know why you can’t just leave her alone.
Yes, that made two of us. Or, it did; I was fully aware now that it was my own selfish nature that tethered me to her. Look at how much I was risking, for so many people; my siblings, my parents, her parents, and her….
Rosalie stalked across the sprawling lawn, disappearing into the forest beyond. Esme sighed sadly.
“I hate seeing you kids fight.” Our family should be stronger than this.
“It’s hard not to, with her attitude,” I said through clenched teeth. “You’d think Bella was criminal.” Not far off, in Rosalie’s mind. Of course, I couldn’t voice that particular outrage to anybody, if I wanted to keep my head.
“Edward, she has her own challenges,” Carlisle reminded me gently. She does not do as well with change as some. I think it reminds her too much of her own immortality.
I shook my head. “I fail to understand why that means her bitterness is acceptable. We’re all immortal, too.” My throat burned, but not with familiar thirst, digesting my last words. What I would give to change that. My need was stronger than Rosalie’s, all-consuming…and futile, I knew. Death or immortality were my only two options; they were not all that convergent of paths. At least, they hadn’t been until Bella brightened my midnight.
“Edward…she has a small point.” Esme glanced at me, clear remorse on her face. “Not about…all of the bad things. But, this does pose a risk. If the Volturi ever discovered her knowledge….”
“She poses no threat. I know my old companions will not agree, but she will be one of us someday.” Seeing my expression, Carlisle stopped talking.
“I’ve seen it,” Alice chimed in. “That is evidence enough.”
I turned my face away, aghast. Of course Jacob Black did not have an inkling of the danger he had put her in…but the Volturi! Yet another danger she faced, yet another infuriatingly complex problem to resolve. Keeping her alive, mortal, and safe…it was more than a full-time job.
“Be patient, son.” Carlisle smiled at me, his face alight with centuries of wisdom. “You all are young still; and I am sure that this, as with all love, will find a way.”
How I yearned for his confidence! His golden eyes were glowing, in his head a created vision—not a true future like Alice could see, but an imagined outcome—of me and the girl, sitting on the piano bench while I played her song. In his head, her expression held the same soft bewilderment he’d seen at the hospital. But her eyes were shining in a way I could not bear…so exquisite, yet so entirely impossible. It was as Esme looked at him, not how Bella should look at me.
I pushed away his thoughts. “I appreciate your faith in me,” I muttered, only half-sarcastically. There was still no remnant of the monster; I had not heard from him since I had been changed by my love for Bella. There was still that other hunger, the one that pulled me to her soft body, that begged me to hold her in these marble, unsafe arms. Perhaps that was the more dangerous of the two.
There was no monster roaring for her blood anymore, but that did not change the inherent demon I was.
With one frustrated look at my Martin, I left Alice, Esme, and Carlisle in the garage. It was far too early to give in, to go back to Bella’s, and I could hear Rosalie huffing around in the living room. I was by no means afraid of her, but I had grown weary of conflict. My life had been nothing but recently.
Instead, I ran into the forest.
Running never lost its thrill; that was one perk of this body I had not expected. Though my legs moved almost imperceptibly fast, trees seemed to march by in slow motion. Dodging was too strong of a word; I merely passed them, aware of them as they stood like soldiers in a line. The wind whipped around me; it should have been cold, would have been excruciating to human skin, but was merely chill to me. Noticeable, but not uncomfortable. As I knew from the Denali wilderness, there was no such thing as too cold for this body.
Perhaps the best part was hearing nothing but my own thoughts—and those, consumed with the pleasure of the moment, were bearable for once. Already, there was nobody for miles. The absence of my family’s hesitance, fear, and—in Alice’s case—impatience, was intoxicating. If I could not be alone with Bella, this was second best.
I had run to Seattle and halfway back before the sun set.
The utter bliss kept crossing my mind, even as I contemplated the impossibility of my situation. A monster, infatuated with a mortal. A monster, drawn only to the ultimate prey. A lion, in love with a mouse.
Not even a mouse. Bella was so much more fragile, and wasn’t the lion afraid of the measly rodent? True, I was terrified of breaking her, but that put undue blame onto Bella. No…I was a lion, in love with a lamb.
And yet, despite the alleged moral compass I had gained, I was directly opposing my decades with Carlisle. Pursing my prey…in all aspects of the word.
I flinched away from the thought, where it lead me. Scarlet eyes glowing, crouched over….
Even as my throat burned, my cold undead heart shrank.
No. I was not maintaining this, getting to know her, her quirks, her individual beauty, her increasingly intricate thoughts, just to lose myself. Nobody would harm her.
Not even myself.
I suddenly longed for her scent, ached for the burning that assured what was left of my heart that she was safe.
Though I had been planning to stop home first, I altered my course and increased my already nearly super-sonic pace.
Her house loomed in front of me before I knew it. Charlie was downstairs, the television flickering along with his thoughts…asleep. I listened for the rhythmic breathing from both bodies before I moved. Trusting the oil I’d previously applied, I slid effortlessly into the second-story window.
…Ah. The scent that ripped through me, exquisitely painful, comfortingly her, almost did not register as thirst. Almost. The venom flooding my mouth, the tightening of my muscles, was all too easy to ignore.
Effortlessly, as if I had been doing this from the very beginning of my existence, I slid into the rocking chair and allowed myself to bask in her presence.
The moonlight bathed her, exposing her full glory and dying her hair blacker than the night outside. Her skin shone against it, porcelain and fragile. It smoothed her expression, but through the light, I could see the furrow between her brows. Her slender body, tucked beneath only a thin flannel-patterned blanket, drew lines I tried desperately to ignore.
Where was her normal blanket?
I listened for the sounds, and allowed myself another deep breath, but I couldn’t smell anything but her. My hearing proved more potent, for once, than scent; the dryer was still rumbling.
Laundry was such a simple thing to keep her cold.
Again, I wished for mortality, so badly it was a cutting force, a stake twisting into my heart. Like a fish wishing for air, it was simply impossible; even if I died, in the only sense of the word left for me, my…essence would be lost. I no longer had a soul, and if I did…. It would stay with Bella. Always.
As I gazed at her sleeping figure, my hand started to tingle. Curiously, I sat, experiencing the feeling. It quickly turned into the same current that had possessed me during the movie in Biology. How was this possible?
Could I hope against hope that by some act of God (a genie, a djinn, any sort of higher force) this was it? Instead of fire, it was electricity? To become mortal again?
“Edward,” Bella suddenly sighed.
The feeling pulsed, spreading quickly from my arm to my entire body. I ached with every crystalline cell in me to be able to caress her face, mold my body to her curves, warm her despite the lack of bedspread.
She opened her eyes.
Instantly, I flew beneath the bed.
Above me, she turned over. The blanket rustled against the sheets. A deep sigh.
Feet flew over the side of the bed. I didn’t dare breathe.
She padded, feet bare, to the bathroom. Water ran and hit skin. The sound of skin rubbing against skin; washing her face. A deep breath. Footsteps coming back in.
She lay back down and sighed again heavily. Despite the tension, I ached to be able to see her. What secrets did her eyes contain? Did she, too, feel the current?
Of course the electricity was not meant to turn me mortal. Miracles existed for the pure of heart and deed. I was a selfish, murderous monster, chasing the one object of affection I never should have allowed myself to feel. She was simply too loveable; or, rather, I was too infatuated. I was too weak. I should leave, but I knew I could not bear to, especially with the Newton boy waiting in the wings.
I relaxed slightly against the floor. She laid back down, but her breathing was hitched. Could she sense I was here?
It happened twice more; after she had fallen asleep, the current spread slowly through me. She awoke suddenly as it reached its peak both instances. I stayed beneath the bed, unwilling for her to catch me here. I had never felt more amoral doing this. She had not uttered any more words, and as she fell asleep again, I decided to leave. Tonight, I was simply not meant to be here.
I ached with the departure, but I could not convince myself that she needed me here. I was, after all, only interrupting her sleep. Thankfully, the third time she’d woken, she retrieved her heavy comforter from the dryer and happily settled into its warmth. She was as comfortable as could be, and would only be more so when I had left.
When she was sleeping peacefully, I deftly slid out the window and left both her and the strange current behind.
My pace was slow on the way back to the house. Questions bounced around my immortal mind, which usually had more than enough space for everything. What if there was a way back? True, our family’s combined centuries of searching had no information to show for it, and the Volturi had never mentioned anything of the sort to Carlisle, but they would not care for it. I somehow doubted even our Denali cousins would trade immortality, vegetarians though they were.
No, we were entirely alone in our quest.
So, I would not lose hope. I could not steal Bella’s soul in my vast selfishness, but perhaps I could regain mine.
Rosalie was in the living room, reading a new medical study on insulin-dependent diabetes. Ceramide manipulation, of course, she thought silently. She was intent enough that she lacked any insults to throw my way. Emmett and Jasper were back at their chess game; both looked away to smile widely at me.
Glad you’re home! Jasper thought. He had become much more friendly since I’d met Bella, though I inconvenienced him a great deal. I suppose our shared weakness fostered a sense of comradery in his mind.
Been spying on the human again? Emmett grinned. I scowled at him.
“Where’s Carlisle?”
Both of their thoughts flashed to his study.
“Thanks.” I glanced back at the staircase. “By the way, I see a checkmate in three.”
“Don’t cheat!” Jasper and Emmett complained simultaneously, then intensely examined the others’ pieces.
I chuckled as I knocked on Carlisle’s door, half a second later. I’d been entirely lying, but I enjoyed participating in some aspect of the game.
“Come in.” He was pouring over stacks of papers, spread out haphazardly across his desk. Unusual, for Carlisle. Esme perched on the very edge of the desk, painting an incredibly detailed landscape featuring Mount St. Helens on a gigantic canvas. She moved with almost human speed, simply because she enjoyed the act and did not want it gone too soon.
“What’s all this?”
Carlisle met my eyes, somewhat abashedly. Moral guides. Philosophers, both modern and ancient. Essentially, I’m studying the good of one over the good of another. And the implications of choice; if an individual chooses a path, wants that path, how is another to determine it is not good? Of course…it’s all dependent on so many variables. I cannot imagine you would have her changed if she did not want it, so she must. But how…temperate…of a newborn would she be?
My eyebrows pulled together. “You are foregoing the most important aspect.”
He waited patiently.
I sighed. “And of her soul?”
Esme cut in. “Carlisle and I have been discussing that,” she said, throwing an admiring glance his way, ensuring by his expression she was not speaking falsely for his feelings. “No matter how tattered a human soul is, no matter what unspeakable things they commit, the soul is never lost. It is absolutely condemned, but never gone. The only way that can happen is if the soul is willingly given, usually in some demonic deal.”
I laughed dryly. “How do you know that was not the beginning of our kind?”
Carlisle spoke aloud, so he and Esme could easily keep track of the conversation. “We do not know for sure, but in a world where evolution is so easily proven, why should we discount it for our kind? Most do not have the moral guidance of our family,” he added, thinking of my dark days, viewing them as an arch-angel plot, not a god complex, “but nonetheless. Percentagewise, is this more different than humans? Their race is not pure, is undoubtedly amoral at times. As are we. My son, I will not attempt to change your mind, but I do believe that if any of our kind do retain their souls, our family would be the first.”
I digested that. Esme went back to painting, but still angled herself toward us.
“Why are you studying it, then?” Sometimes, even with my inherent abilities, Carlisle remained a mystery. I could not imagine a person with a kinder, more self-aware soul.
He laughed softly. “Edward, you cannot believe only my opinions matter in this aspect! I’m simply comparing my thoughts, trying to ensure I look at it from every angle possible. This is not something we take lightly. This is why I only saved lives with it; the implications of changing someone who still had a choice were simply too diverse to sift through.”
“But that’s just it! She has a choice. She isn’t dying, at least not actively.”
Esme smiled sadly. “I don’t want to see you lost again. She is, despite your words, mortal. She will die eventually. If she does not wish for immortality, that is the end of the dilemma. If she does, however…is it fair, is it justice, for both of you to be needlessly unhappy?”
“I’ll cause her pain.”
All three of us instinctively remembered the awful fire, the beginning of this life. I burned, consumed in the pyre of their thoughts added to my own.
“…That, plus the pain of leaving her family. I cannot change her parents, her friends…. She deserves a normal life. She deserves a normal partner.” Both Carlisle and Esme noted the obvious despondency in my voice.
“Leave that up to her,” Esme encouraged. “If she is fully aware of the stipulations of our kind, and she still decides to join us…it is a consequence of her action.”
I shook my head stubbornly. “This is the opposite of what I came here to discuss.”
A shared glance—wordless concern emitted from both of my parents.
“Edward, you know that I would share any information obtained on that front with our family immediately. I have, unfortunately, heard not even rumors. I seriously doubt there is a way back.”
My mood instantly declined. I had expected as much, but the hope that carried me here was horribly painful in its absence.
You would leave us? Esme’s heartbroken thought broke my reverie.
I shook my head at her. “I think few of us would choose to remain immortal.”
Agony ripped through her, thinking of our family torn apart like that. Her decision would hinge upon Carlisle’s, I saw. Of course. That was exactly what they didn’t understand.
“I feel the same way about her.” The words were almost a whisper. Esme looked at me, shocked. “I can say for certain. The way you feel about Carlisle, I feel about her. There’s…much more pain involved, though.”
She considered this, felt a fresh wave of hurt for mine. She looked at Carlisle, imagined him mortal, and metaphorically blanched. Oh.
Carlisle, too, finally understood.
“Well, this situation does not—and, perhaps, cannot—be remedied overnight. Even for us,” he added sardonically. “You’ve given me much to think about, my son.” His eyes narrowed slightly, and his thoughts registered a deep sense of loss. “I will, of course, research any potential for a cure more readily.”
I nodded my thanks. Esme reached for my hand; I allowed the contact, squeezing hers gently. “Love you, Mom.”
I still had time to kill; when had nights become so long? I considered changing clothes and heading back to Bella’s home, but discarded the idea quickly. It would only depress me more tonight, with the debate for the morality—I laughed bleakly to myself—for her immortality so fresh in my mind.
Instead, I rearranged my music collection, going over different albums in my head. I changed clothes, donning a simple blue button-up and black jeans, keeping the same white shoes. Alice, of course, had restocked my closet a few nights ago. She preferred our outfits to differ, and rarely allowed us to wear the same thing twice. I thought it was an entirely unnecessary waste, but Carlisle had more than enough money to sustain her habits. Esme loved the excuse to drive into different towns, donating the clothes in increments, as to not draw attention. I knew that it made Alice uncomfortable to be unable to pinpoint timing of her visions, so I went along with it. Nobody else seemed to mind much.
Once I had gone over the four-thousand-odd CDs, I lamented for the music lost before they had existed. Jasper maintained some old tunes on his acoustic guitar, but he rarely played. He did not seem to care as much about it as I did.
I’d forgotten about a math assignment due; it was done almost as soon as I remembered it.
The sun was barely peeking over the horizon; I could not bear to be apart from Bella anymore. Gathering my backpack, I raced to the Volvo. Rosalie’s derisive snort was behind me before I fully registered it.
The drive was so much longer than it had seemed last night. Too late, I realized that I should have brought a jacket; I would have to act cold while outside. At school, but not around Bella.
Pure pleasure spread through me. Perhaps the anticipation of seeing her, but really the innate knowledge that she knew me, more than any human had before, was gratifying. I was already completely hers; I still marveled that she seemed to convince herself otherwise. My mood, unpredictable more than ever before, swelled. I was completely happy for the first time in a long while, entirely thrilled that the sun meant another day to spend with her.
Charlie’s half-hidden thoughts presented themselves to me a few miles out. Sated hunger, concern, and as always, all-consuming love for his daughter. That, we could agree on.
Though I could not discern the conversation through his thoughts, I was close enough to hear. I parked on the east side of the block, the opposite direction Charlie took to work, and waited.
Metal scrapped against ceramics; both of their heartbeats were a steady, pulsing rhythm. Wood dragged across linoleum; heavy steps announced themselves as Charlie.
“About this Saturday…” he began. Both of their heart rates increased. Water hit the plate. His thoughts changed, both embarrassed yet determined. Love and concern still lined the edges.
“Yes, Dad?” I could hear the edge to Bella’s voice, and grinned in anticipation.
“Are you still set on going to Seattle?”
She hesitated, too briefly for Charlie to notice. “That was the plan.”
Bristles scrubbed against the surface. Charlie liked to use his hands, to dispel some energy of the conversation. He was, I realized, somewhat emotionally incompetent. Or, no, that was too harsh. Perhaps too insecure to reveal the depth of his emotions? Too afraid of Bella deciding to leave?
Even though that would be the healthiest course of action for her, I could absolutely sympathize with him on that.
“And you’re sure that you can’t make it back in time for the dance?”
“I’m not going to the dance.” Weariness saturated her tone; she had repeated herself enough times over the last few weeks. I grinned.
“Didn’t anyone ask you?” Concern swelled, turning into anxiety. Which answer was he afraid of? I certainly doubted that she had told him about me, so what fear could be infused into his voice now? Ugh! The two of them combined raised more questions than they answered. Frustrating, yet incredibly interesting.
“It’s a girl’s choice.”
I laughed aloud. Leave it to Bella to say exactly the right thing. She was impossible for anybody to get information out of; at least I was not alone in that regard.
“Oh.”
I could almost see her eyes, downcast and guilty. She had disclosed in no uncertain terms that she hated to lie…so why did she now? Was she afraid that Charlie would not approve? Was it simply her preference, reserved as she was? Was she suicidal? For the millionth time, I mourned her mental silence.
Charlie left soon after. I timed my arrival perfectly, replacing the cruiser with the Volvo as he rounded the corner. A curtain fluttered upstairs, and I could not contain my smile. Finally.
Again, I allowed myself to simply bask in the knowledge that she was here, with me, and would be until this afternoon. She stepped out soon after, forgetting to lock the deadbolt in her haste. I shook my head slightly but maintained my good spirits. I could save my disapproval of her survival instincts for later.
A brown turtleneck covered her entire upper half, slightly too big. I was grateful again, both for the distraction, appreciative of the coverage it provided for other people.
She looked tired, though her hair was clean and flowing around her face. It didn’t look wet on the porch, but the misting rain had moistened it on the short walk to the car.
She paused, slight color darkening her cheeks, before she climbed in. She snapped her seatbelt on smartly. Her scent made a pyre of my sinuses, but I almost didn’t notice. All it meant was the physical reaction; easily swallowed venom, muscles to relax. It meant she was alive and near me. It was all that mattered in the world.
“Good morning,” I said in my non-scary voice, hoping she’d not noticed my reaction. It was so controlled I was unsure if human eyes could detect it, and yet she always surprised me with what she perceived. “How are you today?”
How tired are you today? is what I really wanted to ask. Her sclerae were slightly red, the shadows beneath her eyes deeper than usual. Other than that, though, she didn’t seem as if the restless night affected her too badly. Again, I cursed my inattention to human needs. What if it weakened her immune system too much, and she caught a cold? What if it turned to pneumonia? What if—
“Good, thank you,” she said softly, ducking her head yet maintaining eye contact. Her eyes melted, and with them did my stone heart.
That did nothing to assuage my fears; she was a martyr.
“You look tired.”
Instantly, I thought I may have offended her. It could have been perceived as a negative comment about her physical appearance, something I could never think. She was utterly perfect in every way, besides her obvious love of danger.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she mumbled, swinging her hair around to cover her face. Concentrated, sweet air hit me, but I was prepared. I was surprised by her honesty. Did she know I had everything to do with that? She must be angry with me, as she well should be. I would only bring her more pain.
Keep it light.
“Neither could I,” I finally settled on.
It worked; she laughed. “I guess that’s right. I suppose I slept just a little bit more than you did.”
“I’d wager you did.”
My earlier anticipation rose: the intoxicating aspect of understanding her more.
“So what did you do last night?”
I glanced at her, keeping the movement calm, but wary now. Did she already know?
Her chocolate eyes gazed into mine, soft and welcoming.
I laughed; I was becoming paranoid. It wasn’t the time for that question, anyway. “Not a chance. It’s my day to ask questions.”
Though I didn’t need to, I glanced at the road. It was hard to look into her eyes and avoid truths. I looked back at her almost immediately, though; her face was too expressive, her words too reserved, for this to be a constructive conversation without eye contact.
Her brow furrowed slightly, and pink darkened her cheeks. Always the object of fascination, against her will. “Oh, that’s right. What do you want to know?”
Everything. What created such an ethereal being, why you were thrown haphazardly into my path, the ins and outs of your personality…your favorites, your dislikes, your expectations…your soul.
Keep it light.
“What’s your favorite color?” This was the beginning of my understanding. The gravity of the moment, unknown to her, somehow made it more sobering.
“It changes from day to day.” She rolled her eyes at the obvious question, but I instantly became irritated. Of course she would not have a straightforward answer. I was determined to know her, no matter how many roadblocks she threw at me.
“What’s your favorite color today?” I knew what mine was—that dark blue blouse, combined with the rose and cream of her skin….
“Probably brown.” Her voice rose slightly at the end, but it was a statement.
I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me. Would she surprise me with every word for the rest of my existence? Before I had met her, I would say it was impossible. Now, I would bet the other way. “Brown?”
“Sure.” Her eyes grew serious, slightly guarded from my skepticism. Her hair still hung as a curtain, not blocking my view, but occluding it slightly. Frustrating. “Brown is warm. I miss brown.” Of course—she came from a desert. Perhaps she was not surprising; perhaps I was simply thick. “Everything that’s supposed to be brown—tree trunks, rocks, dirt—is all covered up with squashy green stuff here.” Her voice turned somewhat whiny toward the end. I was trying to imagine it, as Jasper sometimes remembered the South, but the two seemed mismatched. Perhaps I could take a trip home with her, to watch her eyes as she gazed upon the landscape she loved.
Those eyes enraptured me; I had expected her to be embarrassed, but she was defensive now. How unchivalrous, laughing at her honesty.
“You’re right,” I said seriously, gazing into her eyes. Perhaps I was wrong about the blue; I had discovered a newfound preference for brown, myself. “Brown is warm.” It was impossible to deny the draw of chocolate, gazing at her. Carefully, I swept her hair behind her shoulder, the better to see her face.
I pulled into the closest parking space available, cutting off Erin Teauge’s attempt to circle back into the formerly empty space. I felt somewhat rude as she parked her Aerio in a spot much further away, dejected by the thought of walking that much more in the rain, but it was for Bella’s good. It was, too, less time I would have to act cold.
I wasn’t about to let our arrival stop my questions. I decided to ask about the CD I’d seen, the music that had surprised me, as I’d never seen Bella wear eyeliner.
“What music is in your CD player right now?” I’d planned this, and hoped she hadn’t removed it.
“My Chemical Romance.” She didn’t seem embarrassed, which was good. I wanted her trust more than anything else. I would be careful to not laugh again, nor be angry with her answers.
I dug through the CD compartment between our seats, pulling out the same album.
“Debussy to this?” I raised one eyebrow at her.
Her reaction was frustratingly opaque; she kept her eyes down, tracing the cover art.
When it was clear she would not say anything else, I sighed and got out. She waited, CD in her hand, awkward for a reason I couldn’t discern. When I opened the door, she gingerly set the CD on the dash. I smiled in understanding; she was so timid! She needed a guide for every action, it sometimes seemed. And yet other times, she seemed so brave, so brash. And always driven by incredible kindness.
I was not through asking about Arizona, but I wanted more time to read her expression. I settled for movies—she was a fan of the classics, of course, and hated gory action. With her aversion to blood, I was not surprised. The pain that shot through me, watching her retreat into her English classroom, was almost physical.
As was my habit now, I followed her through others’ thoughts. I made sure to steer clear of the Newton boy, lest he vex me too much, but it wasn’t much better. Every attentive note she took, every gaze out the window, every flush that occasionally crossed her face, taunted me.
I found her outside of her Spanish classroom before lunch. Jessica took one look at me and departed, jealous but resigned. She, at least, was happy that Newton was her date.
“What is your ideal vacation?” I fired off as soon as she joined me. We walked, shoulders almost touching, to the cafeteria. I wanted desperately to hold her hand, but was afraid—both of the strange, unabating hunger, and of her imagined reaction to my cold hard skin. Instead, I gazed into her eyes, hardly watching where I was going.
She glanced at me then away quickly—frightened by my intensity? I struggled to control my expression. Her heartbeat sped up, but she did not look scared.
“Someplace warm.” She glanced out a passing window, and half-smiled. “Somewhere like Alaska, you know?”
I rolled my eyes at her sarcasm. Her honest answers were revealing, but this kind showed me even more; she joked to lighten her misery, to dull the tension, to ensure everybody that she was not suffering as much as she really was. I would have to buy her a nicer coat.
“Humid? Arid? Plenty of foliage, or somewhat barren?”
She smiled, shaking her head slightly. What did that mean? “Warm is my only stipulation. I suppose Greece would be fascinating, or Egypt.” She paused, then added, “Peru would be beautiful too. I’ve always imagined it as Arizona, only with a beach.”
I carefully filed that away. I would ensure she was able to see all of the world, and experience everything. Especially the desert sun.
“Where have you been?”
We were sitting now, in our usual bubble. Thoughts swirled around me. It was incredibly easy to ignore Rosalie’s irritated, jabbing remarks, Jasper’s concern and slight jealousy, the Newton boy’s stormy mood…the only thing worth paying attention to was Bella.
“Uh, not many places.” She took a bite of the disgusting cafeteria pizza, thinking. She swallowed and amended, “San Francisco with Charlie, Phoenix, and Forks. Oh, and I went to Zion National Park once. Renee and Phil wanted to hike.”
“That’s not much.” I was thoughtful now; had she named those hot places only because that was what she knew? What would she think of whale watching in Alaska, of visiting Russia’s architecture, of touring Lithuania’s countryside…?
“Not all of us are millionaires,” she noted sourly.
I smiled at the misconception but did not correct her. “Where would you like to go?”
“Could I bring my parents? And Phil?”
“Sure.” Ever-thoughtful.
“Hmm. Well, Phil would love to go to the New York Stadium. Charlie would love to go fishing in Alaska, I bet. Renee—”
I cut her off. “Okay, no parents. Just you.”
She grinned, slight embarrassment touching her face. “Oh, lots of places. Paris, Tokyo, London, the Grand Canyon, the California Redwoods, Rome.... Almost everywhere.”
“Everywhere with history?” I grimaced at the mention of Rome, worried anew about the Volturi, but she didn’t comment.
“Yeah,” she said softly. I couldn’t figure out why her eyes were suddenly melting.
I asked her about books, about foods, scents, trees, her opinions on certain political endeavors, both historical and modern, about dream houses and gardens.
When I asked her about her favorite gemstone, she automatically said, “Topaz,” then flushed dark red. She refused to tell me why; I had to dazzle her in order to extract the truth from her.
“It’s the color of your eyes today,” she finally conceded, staring at her empty tray. She seemed hesitant, wary, almost…sad? I couldn’t touch on the emotion. Again, I wanted to move her head, angle it to see into her eyes, but I restrained myself. My white hand sat motionless between us; her left one grabbed a lock of hair and twisted it nervously. “I suppose if you asked me in two weeks I’d say onyx.”
Regret flared in me at the happiness that surged. Remembering my revelation of brown today, I understood all too well the meaning.
I turned to flowers, a topic that kept us until we sat down in Biology. It may have been more simple if she had one color preference, but her love of flowers—gathered from her mother, though she noted that Renee could hardly keep them alive—was complex.
“Dream car?” I fired, working my way down a long mental list as we settled in. Mr. Banner was a few minutes away, dragging the wretched television behind him. My muscles already twitched, anticipating the lockdown to come.
Sometimes she answered immediately, but sometimes she paused. She hesitated here, considering. Finally, before I grew too impatient, she tilted her head and met my eyes. “I like my truck.”
I struggled to keep from rolling my eyes. I could have seen that one coming.
“You don’t like sports cars? Luxury cars? Compacts, off-roading vehicles…RV campers?” I teased.
“Ha, ha. I like how solid my truck is; I’d bet an airplane could fly into it, and it wouldn’t even touch the paint.”
“It did fare well in the accident,” I agreed dryly. She’d given me another fear; crashing airplanes. Of course, if I was near, she needn’t worry. I comforted myself with that as the lights went out. I pulled my chair away from hers quietly, but it was a wasted effort.
The electricity was immediate; instantly, my muscles locked down and the depraved craving flowed through me, demanding I touch her delicate cheekbone, her slim wrist, her thigh….
I tried to focus on the movie but failed spectacularly.
The hour passed slowly; the impossibility of this being a transformation, from immortal monster to mortal man, consumed me again. Obviously, Bella had some kind of ability…. Carlisle had explained his theory, that some humans are naturally sensitive in certain aspects, and that these come into fruition if they are changed. I wondered what would happen if—
No.
But would it be possible? If she already had this unknown power, this direct defiance to my ability, could she change me? This situation was already so impossible; she should have died the moment I met her. The existence of my kind was proof enough that there were forces humans didn’t understand. Were there the same for vampires?
I knew it was wishful thinking, but I could not discount the idea, destroy the hope of deserving this angel beside me. I would never stop improving myself for her, and so this possibility—regardless of the likelihood—intrigued me.
As I had saved her, from both myself and the damned van…could she save me?
I glanced at her, bathed in the light from the TV, arms tight and eyes unfocused. It would make more sense that way. Yet, what justice was this? Did she have to love me for that? Was it inevitable? The more I tried to make it possible, the smaller the possibility seemed.
I had saved her, though.
Maybe it wasn’t mortality she granted me…in that sense, at least. Had she not saved the life of the very man who wanted to destroy her? I wanted to kill him, wanted his blood so viciously it still burned, and yet his blood would never be on my hands. Because of her.
If I could save her from myself, could she do the same for me? Save me from my own monstrous nature?
The movie paused; she stretched gratefully and met my gaze, surprised. I could not bear to tear my eyes from her face, trying to gain an answer from her eyes, black in the darkness. She blinked against the lights flickering back to life, but I held focus.
She had reanimated that same soft, bewildered look; though I was wasting time, I was now in no mood to quiz her. Wrestling with questions of higher purpose always confused and frustrated me.
We walked in silence to the gymnasium. The familiar pain rose in me, channeling itself into my hand; I could not resist stroking her face, temple to jaw, though I used the back of my hand. I walked away carefully, still distracted.
I watched her grudgingly through Newton’s eyes at first, then switched to Ashley Parker’s, on the opposing team. She was an athlete, mercilessly using Bella’s lack of skill to her advantage. Still, they barely lost. This only made Newton more sullen. He cast looks at Bella often; Ashley decided he resented the poor sportsmanship she showed.
Bella raced to the dressing room, face pink. I stopped it there, unwilling to invade any privacy. When I saw her, it would be just us, alone…. But of course, that was impossible. I gritted my teeth.
I met her again and we automatically turned to the parking lot; I noted that her left sock was inside out, and it made me smile. She must have hurried to get dressed.
Now was the time for her impression of home. She painted beautiful pictures in my mind, speaking of things entirely alien to me. I’d never been to Arizona as a human, and it was not exactly an inconspicuous place for me now. There were scents, sounds, sensations she described with loving care. It was open, as she said, and again I thought of the South as Jasper remembered it; it was the only way I could visualize a sky that big. The urge to run there, to visit, filled me again. Surely there would be no human occupants in the middle of the desert? I wanted to see it in the daylight, to feel the blistering heat she loved, to see the pure blue sky. I wanted to lie with her beneath the blanket of stars, sand still warm against our backs.
I did not understand the beauty at first; what joy could there be in the raw, exposed earth, caked and dry? But once I did, I understood Bella so much more. Truly, home was where the heart lives.
She described her small bedroom, painted light blue like the sky outside, usually disorganized, full to the brim of books. I smiled, imagining her there. Of course, I did not want her to go back, but I could see it; the sun streaming in, warming her skin as she curled up with an Austen novel opened in front of her. Renee and Phil in the living room, providing pleasant ambient conversation. The rush of Phoenix traffic, the buzzing of insects outside, the desert scents wafting through the window….
I noted the time with displeasure. She stopped talking, and then turned in surprise. “Are you finished?” She sounded relieved.
“Not even close—but your father will be home soon.”
“Charlie!” The word was distant, almost foreign on her tongue. Apparently, she had been as transported as I was. She glanced at the darkened sky outside, pouring rain onto the metal above our heads. “How late is it?” The clock glowed on the dashboard, answering her question.
“It’s twilight,” I said, almost unconsciously. Clouds hugged the western horizon, bleeding above the trees. As I watched, the sun set. In Arizona, surely the sun was out longer. No wonder she hated this place.
Again, the desire for her to know me spurred a continuation. “It’s the safest time of day for us, but also the saddest, in a way…the end of another day, the return of the night. Darkness is so predictable, don’t you think?” I smiled, sure that she disliked the cold of the night just as I resented its dullness, after decades of hiding in it.
Of course, she surprised me.
“I like the night,” she said seriously. “Without the dark, we’d never see stars…. Not that you see them much here,” she added, glaring at the cloudy sky above.
I laughed at that tiger-kitten fury, aimed for water vapor far above. She was so unpredictable, so endearing. Her existence was a never-ending puzzle, a deepening whirlpool I could not—and did not want to—escape.
She grinned at me, her eyes crinkling at the corners. She was so breathtakingly beautiful. I could not understand how I had survived without her until now.
Charlie’s approaching tires—louder than his thoughts, the mystery his brain was—broke through my joy. I hated to see her go; it became more painful every time, exponentially increasing. Alice was right. I could not leave her now. I would justify anything to spend the rest of her life by her side.
“Charlie will be here in a few minutes.” I frowned slightly. “So, unless you want to tell him you’ll be with me Saturday….” I raised an eyebrow, imploring her to listen to me. Of course, I already knew what her answer would be.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” she said lightly. She gathered her books and her half-finished English assignment, abandoned when she’d started using her hands to describe the sharp line of the mountains. She moved slowly, almost painfully; I realized she was stiff, and felt remorse. I should have reminded her to shift.
Her eyes met mine; she seemed to not notice the discomfort. “So is it my turn tomorrow, then?”
I had crossed off about a third of my list, disregarding the questions she’d raised with her answers. “Certainly not!” I would have been irate; what had I told her a few minutes ago? It was, however, impossible to be upset with her over something so trivial. “I told you I wasn’t done, didn’t I?”
“What more is there?” Her eyes narrowed slightly, and her lips pouted.
“You’ll find out tomorrow.” I smiled at her stubbornness. Because Charlie was so close, I reached across her instead of walking around the car to open her door. Just as I pulled it, two new voices registered.
The first was childish, excited to see Bella…interested in her, I was very displeased to realize. His appreciation of the car did nothing to dispel the fury that ripped through me.
The second, a Quileute elder. Billy Black, who had correctly assumed the shiny car meant a Cullen.
“Not good,” I murmured to myself.
“What is it?” Bella was shocked…by my tone, I supposed. She could not be surprised by the bad luck she carried with her anymore.
“Another complication.” My jaw was hard, trying to listen to the old man’s intentions. He was considering involving Charlie, if his guess was correct, but was afraid of his reaction; a brief flashback played through his head of the Chief defending my family. It had been tense between them since.
I opened the door, nearly launching it away from the car in my hurry. I swiftly pulled away from Bella, though the craving to touch her face was almost intolerable.
She glanced at me, curiosity and confusion battling in her eyes, as headlights bore down on us. Jacob Black parked the car.
“Charlie’s around the corner,” I said curtly, staring at the old man in the front seat. He was glaring at me, his face nearly white, his thoughts almost incoherent with fear. His eyes flickered to Bella as she bolted out, rain pelting her instantly. She glanced back at me, but I was too angry with the old man to acknowledge her. She needed to get inside.
As soon as she was safely away, I squealed my tires against the pavement, disappearing before the two men exited their car.
Though the rain muted my hearing, thunderous as it was, I could hear them from a block over. The car doors slammed. I parked, choosing to monitor the situation through the old man’s head. My mind raced, trying to figure out how to prevent him from scaring Charlie. But, maybe, this was the exact thing that could help Bella understand the danger.
Even as I thought that, I knew there was no way I would allow her to leave my sight. She could choose not to associate with me, as was healthy, but she needed a protector still.
My empty chest ached as I considered that future.
Billy stared at his son, greeting Bella in the rain. Poor kid doesn’t know what’s good for him. He switched his focus to Bella, soaked through already. Does she know? There’s no way she does. Jacob knows better than to spread around our stories to outsiders. Did they tell her? What do they want with her? Why Bella?
She turned, obviously concerned about his expression. Soul-crushing fear for her consumed Billy; he’d watched her grow up, heard about her constantly from Charlie. He knew her father loved her far too much to lose her.
And, in his mind, she was uncomfortably close to being lost.
She smiled hesitantly, but he did not return it. She furrowed her eyebrows and looked down; that all but decided Billy.
She may not know how, but she knows they’re different. How could you not, being around those leeches? It’s unnatural. It’s my birthright to fight for human lives…even if this is technically their land. Not her. Not Bella.
The familiar phrase hurt me. What was I doing? I was risking so much! She had so many friends, so much family, to love her. A line of suitors. Why could I not be selfless, leave her to live her normal, human existence? Even as I mourned, I knew I could not bear to do that. Not unless she wanted me to.
Charlie arrived; greetings were exchanged, then they fled into the house, out of the pouring rain. I noted with pleasure the discomfort and…remorse? on Bella’s face when Billy announced that Jacob had wanted to see her again.
I had to switch to Jacob’s thoughts as he followed her into the kitchen; I ground my teeth together at his obvious intentions. He was pressing her for details, wondering—with a jealous edge—who rendered his gift obsolete.
He gathered plates at her request, then grew weary of the game.
“So who was it?”
Damn, but she looks guilty! Are there any convicts in Forks? Or maybe, she’s upset because she rather would have ridden home with me…. Too bad I go to school on the rez….
“Edward Cullen.”
Oh. No wonder Dad was goin’ batshit in there. Looked like he’d seen a ghost. Just because they’re…strange, I guess, doesn’t mean they’re bad. He’ll never listen to that logic, of course. Embarrassing old man. He’d better not do anything to upset Bella tonight. A strong surge of jealousy coursed through him. I’m not surprised one of them noticed Bella, though.
His eyes lingered on her soft lips, taking in the way her jeans hugged her hips. I gritted my teeth.
“Guess that explains it, then. I wondered why my dad was acting so strange.”
She looked at him with wide, opaque eyes. “That’s right. He doesn’t like the Cullens.” Her voice was an octave too high, but Jacob didn’t notice.
“Superstitious old man.” I swear to God, if he says anything to Charlie…messes up so I can’t come see her again….
Her thoughts followed his. “You don’t think he’d say anything to Charlie?”
I don’t love how concerned she sounds. Is he her secret boyfriend or something? There was obvious chemistry between them…. He thought back to us, in the car. The way I looked at her all but confirmed my devotion. “I doubt it. I think Charlie chewed him out pretty good last time. They haven’t spoken much since—tonight is sort of a reunion, I think. I don’t think he’d bring it up again.”
“Oh.”
The rest of the evening was uneventful; Billy was, as Jacob had assumed, too afraid that Charlie would yell at him again to involve Bella’s father. Jacob remained obnoxious, talking Bella’s ear off, but she was distracted, listening to the conversation between their fathers. When the visitors were leaving, Jacob wistfully asked if Bella was headed back to the beach. Jealousy infused my entire being. She waved him off easily, though, still keeping a careful eye on Billy.
“You take care, Bella.” It would crush Charlie if you got hurt. And Jacob, apparently, as well.
“Thanks.”
They left, headed back the way they came. I breathed a sigh of relief; the rain had lessened, so it was much easier to hear Charlie asking Bella about her day. I waited, hopeful, but she didn’t mention me. He asked why Bella hadn’t asked Mike Newton to the dance, and I became irritable all over again. Bella quickly countered that he was dating somebody else. Charlie said he planned a fishing trip Saturday. She told him nothing he didn’t already know.
Bella could not be more reckless, could she?
When the sound of running water came from the bathroom, I left.