I hung back for mere seconds. This one had a true, devious intent, I was absolutely positive. I still was hesitant as my mental battle raged on. I quickly decided and followed pursuit. Little did he know that he would be the one to die, not the poor woman he stalked through the night. The hunting instinct wanted to come straight out but I had to restrain it. If I simply let it loose, I could easily kill the woman I was attempting to temporarily protect. Along with dooming many others as he would get away. She would survive the night in the least. As he was about to turn the corner that would dead end her, I made my easy move.
"He'd kill more if I didn't stop him," I silently chanted to myself. Even as I had begun to think the words though, I knew it wouldn't help me. I had been going at this for years now, only to come toward the place I was before. I was a bigger monster than any of the ones I took down. I wiped the small speck of blood still on my lips away then took off in the night to my temporary home. New York City was vast with many human killers to hunt for. I had been in this apartment for almost two years but would need to leave soon before anybody would notice the lack of change. I had been in the city itself for the majority of the time since I had left Carlisle, simply moving far away from each place every time I needed to. It was impossible for me to be connected to any of the murders I had committed to try and save others along with feed the monster that always loomed within. That wished to spring forth every second I was around any human.
I sighed heavily as I reached my ratty apartment that I had only for a sanctuary from the sun that would reveal my presence. I knew this time would come eventually. I desired, even loved, the taste of human blood but I could stand it no longer. I had to get out of this killing life. I needed to learn from my creator, Carlisle. I didn't want to be a killer anymore. Well, a human murderer anyway. We always had to kill. Every time we fed. How to find him though? I had last seen him in Alaska. I would try there first though I doubted he would still be there. Now to decide between transportation methods. I wanted to run but I wouldn't be able to travel as easily since I could only run at night. I could hop a train though I would run the risk of attacking some of the humans aboard. I could even buy a car and drive. I smiled at that thought. I had driven only twice before but knew perfectly how to do so. I liked the thought of driving to Alaska. I had no time limits and more than enough money considering the link to Carlisle's bank account he had granted me. I rose quickly at the idea forming in my mind. I might be able to get a connection to Carlisle through his account, a phone number. I quickly paced the room as my mind easily formed the plan. Tomorrow would be dark enough for me to go out because of the storm system moving in. I would go to the bank to try to find a placement on Carlisle and buy a car, every cent upfront. If the bank planned failed, I would drive for Alaska and begin my search there. I smiled at the thought of finding Carlisle. Then frowned again. Would he still mean that I could come back after this time, knowing that I had killed many? I brushed the thought away. Surely Carlisle and Esme, both would take me back, despite the life I'd been living for the past four years. At this nice thought, I quickly packed all possessions into my old suitcase then laid down in my almost useless bed at watched the dreams of my neighbor for lack of anything better to while away my time with.
As morning crept upon the city in an array of grey and blues, I readied myself to be at the bank doors as soon as they opened. I took care to put on clothes that would cover all of my skin, including a hat. In case of chance rays of sun. I reached the bank within 15 minutes of human paced walking and waited for 10 more minutes until they opened their doors. I followed the teller who had unlock the glass doors to his counter, quickly scanning the thoughts of everybody in the building.
"How may I help you, young man?" he asked with a stern voice.
"How soon until I could speak with the owner? I understand he is here for a short time and I'd like to speak with him" I asked him, keeping up a pretense while I searched his thoughts so I would know a truthful answer.
"Hmm, I wonder if he has an appointment with the boss. Mr. King is in his office already. The early riser he is. It's annoying he has an office here. Mostly a waste of space. He only comes about one every few months from Rochester. This kid must be important if he can know he's here," he thought.
He replied slowly, "If you have an appointment then immediately but if not, I will need to speak with him first."
"I'm afraid I don't have an appointment."
"I'll speak to him then if you don't have any objections."
I nodded patiently, looking at his eyes. He couldn't see mine for the dark glasses I wore to mask my red eyes. I was glad for the facts that I had fed last night and had some restraint. His blood was fairly average but this was still close contact. He turned and I listened to him walk up to the second floor and rap on a door, his thoughts were of how to phrase it and they had a nervous edge to them. He obviously didn't like speaking to the owner. His knock was replied with an enter. He obliged.
"Ah, Frederic. What is it this time?" Mr. King asked him, his tone condescending.
"Well, there's a young man here to see you. He didn't say why but he isn't a beggar. He had clothes nicer than mine. I'm fairly sure he isn't competition either. Would you like for me to bring him up?"
Mr. King, Royce King the 1st, thought for a minute. "Huh, should I? I don't know. He could still be a beggar or even a criminal. I'm tired of this debt news though. It's depressing. Of course it is, it's a Depression. Ah, why not? It can't really be too bad."
"Oh, go on then. Bring him up," he told the teller, Frederic Mayes. He nodded and began the descent, taking his time. Once he was back at the counter, he restraightened his papers then looked up at me.
"I apologize for the wait. Mr.. King will see you now. Follow me," he told me choppily. He turned on heel again and I followed him around the counter up the handsome stairs and to the second door on the left. He rapped it once in warning then opened it, ushered me in, and shut it once more. I quickly took in everything in the room and the man before me. Nothing imposing to me. Of course, not much was.
"Hello Mr._" he began.
"Masen." I had been using my real last name since I had moved close to this bank. Carlisle had his account, which he had set up to be nationally accessible, after he turned me and went in under the name of James Masen.
"Mr. Masen. I am Royce King, owner of this bank and I understand you wished to speak with me." He held out his hand and I quickly shook it and released before he could truly notice anything.
"Yes. I was hoping you could assist me with finding my father. I am using one of his bank accounts and a few weeks ago I lost contact with him. He may have had to replace his telephone and number. Do you happen to have it?"
King's mind was whirling. "This kid is son of James Masen? THE James Masen? It's because of Masen that this bank hadn't fallen under."
"I believe I do have it in my records. One moment." He pulled out a file and began searching. He found Carlisle's file after a moment or two. "Ah, here we are. I'll copy down the phone, updated a month ago, and address as of 3 months ago. Is there anything else you need, Mr. Masen?"
"No, thank you. I'll need a teller for the rest of my morning transactions." He stood, briefly shook the man's hand again, accepted the slip of paper and went downstairs.
"Ah, yes, can I help you any more now that you have spoken to Mr. King?" Mayes asked once I was at the bottom. He had a false smile on his face and his thoughts were clearly wishing I would leave.
"Actually, yes. I'd like to make a withdrawal of 10 thousand dollars," I told him with a grin. An hour later I was driving toward Maine in my new vehicle after much persuasion and bribes for direct cash transactions. Carlisle was in the northern parts of the state so I drove as fast as the car could take me.
I heard the car hit the dirt of the drive and I raced out the door and into the woods. I had made it while Carlisle and Esme were gone, probably hunting. I had let myself in only three short times, this being one, to clean myself up form hunting. I had been doing so almost constantly, diluting my eyes. They were now closer to gold then the amber they had turned after the first hunt and far from the red they had been only days before. I had left my car in a lot on the outskirts of town. I waited until they caught my scent from the woods then moved to the porch steps.
"Is that? Oh, of course it is! How silly for me to doubt my sense of smell. Oh, he's home!" Were Esme's thoughts about it.
"Edward? Are you home for good or just visiting? I'm sure you can tell Esme wants you to be here for good. She's missed having a son. I can tell she wishes she could have a daughter too but she doesn't want to end somebody's life. Anyway, I hope you are here for good too but I'm fine if you don't stay. I hope you haven't been staying outside.
The house is just as much yours as it is ours," Carlisle told me.
I smiled slightly. They accepted me back without hesitance. Then smiled wider as they turned the last corner of the drive and Esme jumped out before it stopped then ran and hugged me. I hugged her back just as tight. If either of us were human, that one would be dead from the strength she clung to me. Mother to son. She was my mother in some way. I still missed my real mother but Esme was just as good hearted, if not more so, than her.
As she released me, I turned to Carlisle who thought his first question again.
"For good. I'm sorry I left in the first place. I was confused I guess. I've always been a bit rebellious," I told him. Esme squealed like how I imagined a little girl would at new dolls then hugged me even tighter and as Carlisle patted my back he had one thought.
"Welcome home, son." I smiled again. I was with my broken, makeshift family. I was home.