Author's Note: These characters were created by Stephenie Meyer. Beyond that, I feel that I need to state right up front that every part of this story is my original work.
I leaned against Edward, feeling very relaxed and content. His face glowed in the orange light of the huge bonfire. We were at First Beach with Jacob, Renesmee and many Quileutes for an evening in honor of guests from the Makah tribe. Jacob had arranged for us to attend, and it was great fun to be with our friends on their own turf. The only drawback was that the visitors did not and could not know about vampires, werewolves or mixed-species children who grew at a rapid pace. Since Renesmee looked far too old to be our daughter, we had to present her as our niece, the child of Edward's late brother. It was hardly the biggest lie I'd ever told, but it was one of the hardest. Luckily, Renesmee seemed to regard this occasional deception as a sort of game, and she assured us that she knew how to play her part.
A vast meal had been consumed by all present, except for Edward and me, of course. The Makahs were too busy with the feast to notice that we didn't partake. Edward tried to insist that Renesmee eat something nutritious before Jacob turned her loose at the dessert table. He didn't have much success. "It's a special night," Jacob argued. "Why don't you two go for a walk along the beach? You don't have to hang around here during dinner."
Edward glared at him but took my hand and led me away from the crowd.
"He thinks I'll distract you," I guessed.
"Yes," said Edward, pursing his lips in annoyance. "And he and Renesmee just made a beeline for the sweets."
"I'll talk to him. He shouldn't disrespect your wishes like that."
His mouth relaxed into a smile. "Oh, it doesn't really matter. Let them think they're getting away with something." He pulled me into his arms. "It is a special night, because you are here with me."
"Why do you have to be so reasonable?" I reached up to stroke his perfect cheek.
"What's wrong with reasonable?"
"I was all ready to distract you!"
He chuckled. "Well then," he said emphatically. He struggled to arrange his features into a scowl. "That mongrel Jacob Black has some nerve letting my daughter stuff her face with cookies, when I clearly told him—"
I interrupted his tirade with a kiss, but it didn't last long, because we were both laughing.
"Jacob knows me too well. It's impossible for me to stay mad when I'm alone with you." He stroked my hair fondly. "It's so pretty out here tonight."
"You know," I said. "It was on this very beach that I learned that the beautiful and mysterious Cullens were strange beings the Quileutes called cold ones."
"And yet you didn't run away screaming."
"Not yet," I smiled into those extravagantly attractive eyes. "But after that display of temper you just showed me…"
"What can I say? Very strong feelings run beneath this serene exterior. Anger, sometimes, I can't deny it, but also love."
"I think I've caught a glimpse of that, from time to time."
"Oh, Bella," he murmured, capturing my mouth with his for a very different kiss. This one was serious, searching, thrilling. It made me plaster myself against him, tighten my arms around his neck, slide my hands into his hair. It made me lose track of time. It made me forget everything but Edward. It made me never want to stop. He pulled away the moment before I heard Jacob's voice, quiet but clear: "Bella!"
"Do we have to?" I whined.
He laughed. "Be patient, love. There's always more where that came from. They're going to tell stories. You don't want to miss that, do you?" I pulled him down and pressed my lips to his for one more moment of us before we returned to the group.
We joined the others around the heat and hypnotic flames. Renesmee sat between Jacob and me, so that she could share her thoughts with a touch. I'd asked Edward more than once if he felt left out because she usually chose to be near others, but he just laughed. "I know how much she loves me," he said. "I know that better than anyone. I don't need to be next to her to be close to her." He had a point. Right now, for instance, he explained that she was showing Jacob the new faces she saw in the circle, and we could hear Jacob telling her what he knew about them.
People were chatting, but when Billy began speaking, his deep voice commanded everyone's attention. "We welcome all of our guests here tonight. We rejoice that in our beautiful land, we are surrounded by good neighbors. We would like to thank you for your friendship by sharing one of the stories of our people."
I saw Emily pass Sam their little son so that she could take down the stories in her notebook. Without any further preamble, Billy's tale began.
"There once was a Quiluete woman named Shipa. She lived with two daughters, Kabatha and Kaliso. These girls were twins and could communicate with each other without speaking. They looked exactly alike. Shipa had woven each of them a bracelet to wear so that she could always tell them apart. Kabatha's bracelet was white, and Kaliso's was brown. When they were only a few months old, their father had sickened and died, leaving Shipa to raise the children. The three of them would go out together to gather food in the forest and plants to make dyes, which Shipa would trade for other things that they needed. She always kept one twin at her side and let the other one roam, because the girls could talk to each other through their minds over a small distance.
"One day when the girls were six years old, Shipa and Kaliso had filled their baskets and were ready to return to their home, but Kabatha did not come skipping from the woods to join them. Shipa called loudly and Kaliso called silently, but there was no answer. Yet Kaliso was not distressed, because she said that she felt her sister was safe. Darkness fell, and they had to go home, but they returned by themselves and with others, searching for the missing girl for many days. They did not find Kabatha, and her absence was a constant ache, but Kaliso continued to remain calm. She could only say that her sister was safe, running among the trees. She was not able to hear any thoughts from her sister, but she saw her in dreams. In this way, fall changed to winter and winter to spring.
"Early one morning one of the hunters in the tribe came to Shipa's home. Kaliso was sleeping, a small smile on her face, but Shipa heard the visitor and rose to greet him. His face was grim. He held out some shreds of cloth. She recognized them immediately. These were the clothes Kabatha had been wearing on the day she disappeared. They were stained with blood. Quietly Shipa thanked the hunter for bringing her these remnants of her daughter. She said that she needed to be alone for a short while, and he agreed to stay to mind Kaliso.
"Shipa walked away from her home without knowing where her steps were taking her. For all that time she had felt sure that if something terrible had happened to Kabatha, Kaliso would know. Now it was clear that something terrible had happened, and her hope had been false."
Suddenly Edward gasped and his arms tightened around me. I tried to turn to him, but he was holding me close and he had pressed his face into my back.
"What's wrong?" I asked softly. I could feel his tension. Jacob and Renesmee were looking at us.
"I'm sorry," Edward whispered, without moving. "I'll be fine in a minute."
I glanced at Jacob. He shrugged. Apparently he didn't know what was bothering Edward. Renesmee showed me a picture of her father colored with her worry about him.
"Shipa walked and walked, still clutching the pieces of cloth. She found herself at the top of the cliffs overlooking the ocean. It came to her that she should follow her daughter into the next world. She didn't jump. She simply stepped off and plummeted into the rocks and water below."
Well, that explained Edward's reaction. I picked up his hand and kissed it. I opened my mind to try to soothe him. Don't be upset. I'm still here. He lifted his head to kiss my cheek. "It's OK," he said to Jacob. I guessed Jacob was mentally apologizing for the content of this story. "Thank you," Edward continued, quietly but emotionally. I wasn't sure if he was thanking Jacob for his concern or for his long-ago rescue.
"Shipa began to sink down into the water. She didn't try to swim or reach the surface. But as she drifted deeper and deeper, she felt something swim past her. She saw a wolf in the water next to her, and she thought the animal was a guide to accompany her to the next world. But it was a real wolf, who was pushing her and tugging her to the shore."
Now it was my turn to be affected. Jacob and I stared at each other in amazement.
"When Shipa opened her eyes, she was lying here on this beach. She was not sure where she was or what had happened. She did not know what was real and what she had imagined. She lifted her hand and saw the bloodstained cloth and the knowledge of her daughter's fate rushed back to her. She knew she had gone into the water and had somehow emerged. She no longer wanted to die, because she remembered now that she had another daughter who needed her. As these thoughts entered her mind, sounds entered her ears. She heard the screaming of a child and the howling of a wolf. In a flash she jumped to her feet in fear that the wolf who had pulled her out of the water had gone to attack Kaliso. As she raced to her home, the sounds grew louder.
"She arrived to see not one but two dark wolves sitting on their haunches and alternately howling. Kaliso was screaming and trying to go near them, and the hunter was holding her back. His weapon was out but he was unable to use it while struggling with the child. When Shipa approached, Kaliso broke away from the hunter. She and both wolves ran straight to Shipa. The hunter was now free to use his weapon, but he hesitated because Shipa and Kaliso were so close to the wolves.
"Shipa saw that the fur of the larger wolf was wet. She dropped to her knees. Kaliso threw her arms around her mother. The smaller wolf placed a paw on Shipa's knee. Looking down, Shipa saw that around the leg of this wolf was Kabatha's white bracelet. Shipa did not understand how any of these things could happen, but tears poured down her face. Seeing that the wolves were not threatening, the hunter relaxed his stance.
"Kaliso had grown calm, and she spoke to her mother. Her sister was now a wolf, but they could still communicate. Kaliso explained that Kabatha had been hurt in the forest and unable to walk. She had been discovered by the she-wolf. The wolf brought her fruits that had fallen from the trees and lay next to her to keep her warm at night. On the second night, the moon was full, and when Kabatha awoke, she had become a young wolf. Her clothes were torn off, but her bracelet remained around her leg. She was now able to walk and run, and the wolf told her they must join the pack. They had spent many months roaming distant forests, but at last Kabatha had persuaded her wolf guardian to return to the Quileute land.
"Shipa, Kaliso and even the hunter marveled at these experiences. Shipa thanked the she-wolf for protecting her daughter and for saving her own life. The wolf approached and licked her hands and Kaliso's hands, and then Kabatha's nose. Shipa understood that this wolf was now Kabatha's mother, and together they would raise the two girls. From that day the two wolves came and went from Shipa's home. Her two daughters grew up strong and free, and people often saw the girl and wolf running in the woods together. Shipa made a black bracelet for the mother wolf, and she made herself a bracelet from the mother wolf's fur. The four of them wore their bracelets for all their days and into the next world."
"I never heard that story before," said Jacob, with wonder in his voice.
"Pretty amazing," I agreed lightly. We both looked at Edward.
"It was a good story. I'm sorry I lost it for a moment there." His voice was even.
I felt Renesmee's hand on my cheek. She showed me pictures of Jacob as a wolf with her and Edward and me. "Yes," I smiled at her. "People and wolves can be good friends." I could see from her next vision of Edward that she was afraid he was still upset. "He thought the story would have an unhappy ending," I said. "But it didn't."
"Don't worry," he said, reaching around me to squeeze her hand. "I'm OK now. Listen. The next story is going to start."
One of the younger Makah women had risen to thank Billy for his story and to offer a story from her tribe.
"This is a tale my grandmother often told us children at bedtime. In our forest live flocks of golden birds who fill the morning air with their songs. It is the male birds who sing, to attract and praise their mates and to teach the music to the young ones. But one spring a chick hatched who did not want to sing. His parents were embarrassed by their silent son. Perhaps another bird had placed this egg in their nest, they thought. But the quiet bird resembled his parents in everything but the voice he refused to use. His parents were concerned for him. How would he find a mate without a song? None of the females would even know he was present in the trees if they could not hear him, and none would stay with him if he had no music.
"The other young birds, the brothers and sisters of the nest and the other hatchlings of that spring, were scornful. They said perhaps the bird didn't sing because his voice was so ugly. They said he was too stupid to remember the notes of the song. They said he was stuck-up and was saving his music for some special occasion that would never come. The quiet bird simply ignored these taunts. The parents argued with their son. The father took the son aside to teach him privately. It made no difference. The young bird refused to sing. And indeed, later in the season, all the new young males poured out their songs and the new young females flew to the music they found most beautiful, and the new couples built their own nests. But no female had any interest in the silent bird. The parents were unhappy, but they could not abandon their son. They permitted him to remain with them in their nest.
"The following spring, new eggs were laid and new chicks were hatched. The parents listened anxiously to their young. Would these chicks be normal and healthy? Or would there be another strange child to cause worry and shame? They were relieved to discover that all the young males of this year enjoyed singing. Throughout the forest were the beautiful sounds of young birds testing their voices and improvising new tunes and older birds demonstrating melodies for the young and singing to please their own mates. The parents and friends of the quiet bird secretly hoped that he might join in this year. Perhaps he was just a late bloomer, and he would participate in the music when he heard the songs of the younger birds. But he remained silent.
"He was sitting by himself on a branch one morning when a small bird of his kind flew through the leaves and perched near him. She was surprised to see him there.
"'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I didn't realize anyone was in this tree. Shall I leave you alone and find another perch?'
"'You are welcome to stay if you want to,' he replied.
"'I suppose you will want to sing for me,' she said.
"'What do you mean?' he asked.
"She looked at him with a puzzled expression. 'It's mating season,' she said. 'Everywhere I go, birds who don't have partners want to show off their voices, hoping I will choose to nest with them.'
"'Oh,' he said. 'I am sorry, but I don't sing. I have never cared for singing.'
"'Oh,' she said in a tone of recognition. 'I have heard of you, yes. The bird who is quiet.'
"'You may fly away if you like,' he said. 'I understand.'
"She didn't move a feather. 'I would rather stay,' she said. They sat together on the branch for a time, watching the light filter through the leaves, feeling the soft breeze and listening to the distant music of their flock.
"Finally she spoke again. 'I have heard the songs of many birds. But none of them pleased me. They were all too loud, too long, too fancy. Just too much! I much prefer perching here with you.'
"A wild hope rose in the breast of the quiet bird. He had never imagined that he would ever find a companion. 'Do you think…" he began. She waited for him to continue. 'Do you think that you might be happy with a bird who doesn't sing?'
"She said yes. So these two birds built a nest and lived happily together for many seasons."
"What about their children?" Renesmee asked loudly.
The storyteller smiled at her. "What about them?"
"Were they quiet like the father or did they sing like the other birds?"
"Their uncles and friends taught them to sing," she answered. "The quiet bird was the only one in the flock who was different. But even he found a mate."
"There's a lid for every pot," I commented to Edward and Jake. "That's what one of our neighbors in Phoenix used to tell us after Renee came home from a bad date."
"That's not very nice," Edward admonished Jacob.
Jake raised one eyebrow. "Like you've never had the same thought," he said.
I looked at Edward pointedly, waiting for an explanation. He chuckled. "Jacob thinks Rosalie might be an exception to that rule. She certainly was very fortunate to come across Emmett."
"We all have our strengths and weaknesses," I started to lecture them. "Except you," I amended, looking into Edward's mesmerizing golden eyes. "You're perfect." I heard Jacob make a gagging sound, but I ignored him.
Billy's voice rang out above the crackling of the fire. "We thank you for that tale. We are honored to welcome some other friends to our circle tonight. We are happy that the Cullens— Edward, Bella and little Renesmee—are with us. Edward, do you have a story to share?"
Edward got to his feet. I saw him catch Jacob's eye and nod. I guessed that Jacob had let him know that he didn't have to participate.
"Thank you all very much for inviting us tonight. My wife and niece and I have really enjoyed sharing your fire and hearing your legends," Edward began. "The only way to repay a storyteller is with another story, and I will tell you one. But I have to warn you that my story is dark. It's a very old tale, from centuries ago, and I can't say whether any part of it is true."
His smooth voice had slipped into a storytelling rhythm, and the effect was spellbinding. I glanced around the fire. Everyone was rapt. Renesmee snuggled closer to me.
"Long ago a man lived in Europe who was no longer a man. He had been bitten and transformed into a creature who drank human blood, never aging or dying. These blood drinkers roamed everywhere in the world, but their numbers were few. Some had special talents, but this man was no more or less than what he was.
"His habit was to travel from village to village and drink the blood of people he found wandering a bit too far from others. Someone washing clothes at the river or tending sheep. But one day he saw three sisters who lived in a cottage at the edge of the village. All three were beautiful, kind and good, and for the first time he wanted something besides human blood. He wanted these sisters to be his wives and companions. Very quickly he bit them, not to drink their blood but to transform them as he had been transformed. While they were weak and disoriented from the pain, he took them into the forest where he had set up camp.
"After three days the sisters had become blood drinkers like him. He was thrilled with the prospect of having these three beautiful creatures as his wives. He decided to start with the youngest sister. He approached her and pulled her into an embrace. But she was frightened and unwilling, and she screamed in protest. Her sisters leaped on him to defend her. You see, in his desire, he had made a mistake in transforming all three of them at once. The sisters were very strong and wild because they were so new, and it was easy for the three of them to overpower him.
"During this fight, the middle sister bit him. As soon as the sharp teeth of this second sister pierced his hard flesh, something amazing happened. Immediately, without any delay or warning, he changed back into a human man. His heart beat and his blood flowed. The sisters were suddenly in the company of a defenseless, delicious-smelling human. They fell upon him and drank his blood, and that was the end of him."
"Is that the end of the story?" asked Renesmee.
"No, sweetie," he said. "Because I have to tell what happened to the sisters after that."
"Go on," encouraged Jacob, looking fascinated.
"The sisters talked about all that had happened, and they understood what they had become and what the middle sister was able to do. She offered to bite her sisters and change them back to human, and she swore that she would resist drinking their blood and let them escape. But the others wanted to stay with her.
"So they remained together for many tens of years. They lived outside the same village in which they had been born. They kept to themselves. They watched the people they had known grow old and die, and their children and grandchildren grow old and die. They never harmed anyone in the village. They drank the blood of passing travelers and sometimes animals. Everyone believed they were witches. Over time they learned herb lore and were able to concoct medications for people in the village, to help the descendents of those they had known and loved and to reward the villagers for leaving them alone.
"One day a young man arrived in the village. He had come to marry the daughter of the most prosperous farmer. He was tall and slender, with blue-gray eyes, fair skin and dark hair. As soon as the youngest sister laid eyes on him, she fell in love. She wasn't sure what she should do about these new feelings, but she couldn't help following him, and when he was alone, tending to his horse, she drew near him. And as soon as he saw her, he fell in love with her."
I wondered why Edward had never told me this story before. Are you making this up as you go along? I asked him silently. He shook his head very slightly. But I didn't want to interrupt the flow of his narrative with any more questions.
"She wasn't sure what her sisters would think about her interest in a human man, and he was betrothed to another, so they met in secret that night in a certain clearing in the woods. Naturally, he wanted to hold her and kiss her, but she warned him not to get too close. She was no longer so wild and strong, but she was afraid she would forget her feelings and drink his blood. She told him her whole story, and she said that because she loved him, she wanted him to marry his betrothed, who could be a true wife to him and give him children. But he said he didn't care about any of that. He had to return home for a short time to prepare for his upcoming marriage, and he asked her to meet him in the same place one week later, the night before the wedding. At length she agreed.
"They both spent the next days thinking.
"The young man decided that having children wasn't important to him if only he could marry his love. So he went near to their home and watched until the oldest sister was alone. Then he spoke to her and explained who he was and how he had fallen in love. This sister had noticed that her youngest sister was troubled, and now she understood. The young man begged her to bite him and transform him into one of them, and finally the sister agreed this was the best solution. They went together to a remote spot to perform this change.
"But meanwhile, while the other two were out gathering herbs, the middle sister saw her sister's sorrow and asked to know the cause. She explained everything, and she asked the middle sister to change her into a human. The middle sister was reluctant because it was dangerous and because it would mean the young sister would age and die and not be part of their family anymore. But she saw that her sister wouldn't be content without her love and finally she gave in.
"So on the appointed night, the two young lovers met in their special clearing. But the young man had been changed into a blood drinker, and the youngest sister had been changed into a human."
Edward paused. There was a moment of absolute silence.
"What happened?" demanded Jacob.
"He bit her and drank her blood."
"What?" "No!" Cries of protest came from around the fire.
"I warned you the story was dark," Edward said. "When he had drunk all the blood, he realized what he had done, and he screamed in horror. The other sisters came running. They had both been waiting nearby, because each thought she would hear good news. They found the new blood drinker kneeling next to their sister's corpse.
"The young man asked the sisters to kill him for what he had done. The oldest sister asked the others to kill her for what she had done in changing the young man. The middle sister asked the others to kill her for what she had done in changing the youngest sister. Finally, they agreed that they had all played a part in the death of the person so loved by all of them, and they all deserved to die. So they built a big fire, almost as big as this one. They placed the youngest sister's body into the flames and watched as it was consumed. And then the three of them held hands and stepped into the fire together.
"Ever since then, there have been many blood drinkers who wished to become human again. But the middle sister was the only one who ever had the power to do that, and she is gone. So now those who are changed to blood drinkers must stay that way forever."
Renesmee's eyes were huge. "Uncle Edward, is that story true?" She showed me pictures of Edward and me and the others, all with peachy skin and cheeks flushed with blood. Human again.
"I don't know," he replied. "It's a very old story I heard a long time ago. What do you think?"
She relaxed. "I guess it's just a story. And even if it were true…" I felt her touch and saw an image of the young man and two sisters surrounded by flames. I understood what she meant. The middle sister and her power were no more.
"Of course it's just a story," said one of the Makahs. "There's no such thing as blood drinkers!"
"Edward, that was an amazing story," said Jacob. His eyes were wide. I could see he found the tale very thought-provoking.
"Thanks," said Edward modestly, dropping back to his place next to me on the sand.
"Wasn't that a bit gruesome for a little girl?" another of the young Makah women asked me.
"It's OK," I said. "She loves all kinds of legends."
"Yes," agreed Renesmee happily. She squeezed my hand and Jacob's hand. "I love stories that can't be true," she proclaimed. "And I love it even more when they come true anyway."
Edward, Jacob and I all responded at the same time: "So do I."
Renesmee was full of comments and questions as we drove home. I was sure she had images to show me as well, but her seatbelt prevented her from reaching me to share them. She had relished everything about the evening: the fire, the food, the attention from our Quileute friends, the beach, the night sky and the stories.
"Kaliso had a wolf friend like me," she said with satisfaction.
"Yes, but Kabatha was an ordinary wolf," I pointed out. "She couldn't change back and forth."
"But they could still talk to each other even though she was a wolf. Like Daddy and Jacob."
"True," said Edward dryly. "I am so lucky."
I laughed. "Speaking of which, what about your story?"
"What about it?"
"I wanted to know where you got it, but just now I was wondering what Jacob thought about it. He was so fascinated."
"Like I said, I heard it a long time ago. Carlisle never told it out loud, but he thought about that legend sometimes, after he changed Rosalie. You can understand why. And Jacob, well, this is going to be hard for you to believe, but it never occurred to him that I'd done anything difficult or special by...resisting you when you were human. You know, he had a very low opinion of our kind, and he never thought we would put ourselves to any trouble for a human. He never realized how much temptation there was for me and how much danger for you."
Renesmee spoke up again. "Do you think there will be another bonfire and we can go?"
"Probably," said Edward.
"Next time I want to tell a story," she declared.
"That's great," I said. "I'm sure everyone will love to hear that."
"Will you tell a story that you know?" asked Edward. "Or make up a new story?"
"I want to make up my own story. Because I want it to have wolves and blood drinkers together."
Edward was kissing me, holding my naked body against his. I was caught up in the feelings swirling through me, trying to get even closer, but something wasn't right. He was rushing, almost desperate. I pulled away.
"Stop," I said.
"Stop?" he echoed incredulously. He flopped onto his back and threw his arm over his eyes. "I'm sorry," he mumbled thickly. Leave it to my husband to put the worst possible interpretation on my behavior.
"Edward!" I tugged on his arm, but he didn't move. "It just feels wrong. You're so tense."
"I know. That's why I want to."
I slid on top of him and pressed a soft kiss on his lips. Automatically, his arms went around me and he began to run his fingers up and down my spine, but his expression was troubled.
"You're thinking about Billy's story, aren't you?" I asked gently.
"Yes," he said hoarsely. "How can I not? Bella, I thought I lost you. How can I forget that?"
"I'm not saying you should forget it. It happened; all of our past happened. But you can't think only about that. You have to remember the rest too. I wasn't trying to die. I didn't die. And now I'm not going to die. We're together, and we will be together forever."
His eyes were bleak. "How can you forgive me for leaving you? Leaving you thinking I didn't love you? Leaving you without my protection?"
"Because," I began, but I trailed off. "It's hard to explain. You know how clumsy I was before?"
A brief laugh— that was a good sign. "Of course."
"Did that bother you?"
"No," he said immediately. "I kind of liked it. I mean, I never wanted you to hurt yourself, but it was part of who you were as a human, and it made me feel needed."
"Well, it's like that. I love you, Edward. I love everything about you. Even the part that made you break both of our hearts. I love that you cared so much and you tried so hard." I could feel his body begin to relax.
"I do care," he whispered. "I do try."
"I love you so much."
"I love you, Bella. More than anything. More than everything. It doesn't seem right that I have to use the same words that everyone uses when what I feel for you is so much bigger than three little words, eight measly letters."
"Then don't use words." I fastened my mouth on his and poured all my adoration and happiness and desire into the kiss. He responded urgently, and the thrilling, pounding heat came rushing through me. I opened my mind so he could see how much I wanted him, how much excitement our closeness was creating in me.
Abruptly he pushed me away. "Stop!"
"Stop?" I was shocked and confused. He adored sharing my mind while we made love.
He turned us over so he was on top. He held my face between his hands. "Bella, thank you for making me talk to you. I feel so much better now. You were right. I was trying to escape, to push those memories away, and that's not how I want to be with you. I don't want to use sex to get rid of my feelings. I want it to express my feelings."
Nothing made me feel better than being in Edward's arms, drenched in his scent, and knowing the love we shared was so real, so powerful, so eternal. "That sounds perfect," I said. "What feelings are you planning to express?"
He flashed my favorite crooked smile, before bending his head to kiss my neck and jaw. "Love… gratitude… amazement… joy... fascination… devotion," he said in between kisses, keeping his mouth on my skin. "But I feel like I'm forgetting something," he mused. He lifted his head to fix me with his smoldering gaze. "Show me your thoughts again," he ordered. I watched his eyes widen and his breath catch as he took in what I showed him. "I knew there was something else," he said, his voice low and husky, as he slowly leaned toward me. His mouth was getting closer and closer. Just before our lips met and we plunged back into the passion, he spoke a final word: "Lust."
Author's Note: Please tell me what you thought of my story! I appreciate reviews so much, and I reply to all of them.
I would like to share some of the inspiration behind this complicated story in case anyone is interested. The idea for another bonfire night with three inner stories presented itself to me. I figured I could manage the "frame" story of everyone at the bonfire. I love folktales, and I thought I could write two stories that would be convincing as Native American tales. But I felt Edward's story had to be about his "tribe," meaning vampires, and it had to be good. I really wasn't sure if or how I could come up with anything that I thought was good enough to come from him. So I didn't even start writing.
A few days later, I caught a glimpse of a book title at the library: The Gift of the Magi. I love that story, and I immediately wondered if I could use the basic idea as a framework for Edward's story. (If you do not know this story, you can find it online. It's short and classic and very charming.) My mind combined my requirement that it be a vampire story with The Gift of the Magi, added a dash of Romeo & Juliet, and a few hours later I'd figured the whole thing out. I was pleased with it, and now that I had this most challenging piece of the story, I was ready to write the rest.
I wanted Billy's story to include wolves. I'm a mother of twin girls, so I thought I could throw that in. There are various stories of children being raised by wolves, and I gradually worked out this story. I was kind of surprised but happy to realize that there were opportunities to include mind-reading and a rescue from a leap off the cliffs, so that the characters weren't just a passive audience to the story. They were really reacting to it.
I wanted authentic Quileute names if possible, and I searched online for Quileute language information. I found a document with some words and phrases. Shipa, Kaliso and Kabatha are all color-words. I thought they sounded like they could be female names, and particularly Kaliso and Kabatha went together as names for twins. Shipa means black, Kaliso means brown and Kabatha means white.
Billy's story was dramatic but had a happy ending. Edward's story was dramatic and had an unhappy ending. I wanted the Makah story to be light and even funny. I figured a straight animal tale was best. This should have been the easiest of the three inner stories but it took me a while to decide on a theme. Some of the Native American stories I've read are "just-so" stories like "Why the Crow Has Black Feathers." But nothing was grabbing me. Finally an idea entered my mind: a wolf who wouldn't hunt. The idea intrigued me, and the situation reminded me of the Cullens. But I didn't want another wolf story. I thought I could do something with the idea of an animal that didn't go along with the group. But what animals live in groups in the forest? Because a Native American story should connect to the local wildlife. A deer? No, a bird. A bird who wouldn't sing. I considered various ways the story could unfold, and I chose this one as something sweet, simple and straightforward.
My children and husband read each of these inner stories as I wrote them and they were highly complimentary. They asked if I'd gotten the stories off the Internet! But I didn't. That's why I said in the prefatory Author's Note that I made all of this up. I hope you liked it. It was a very exciting and enjoyable challenge for me.