One: My enigma
I reveled in the blood as it seeped from the edges of my mouth and dared to stain my chin. The heat completely soothed the burning in my throat, not leaving an ounce of unsatisfied thirst in its wake, but this would only be temporary. There was a certain kind of sweetness to the blood of white-tailed deer, especially the young ones – the young ones that I used to see once in a while in the past, dead on the side of a winding road. It used to break my heart. It doesn't anymore. My heart, like the rest of my body, is as – if not more – impenetrable as the hardest stone in nature.
Finishing off the last drops from the limp carcass in my arms, I looked at my setting. After having caught Bambi's scent, I lost track of where I was headed. Was I still in Canada? It was likely, considering I was surrounded by green… green as far as my enhanced eyes could see. The branches of each tree interlaced with others above me, forming a brilliant canopy that kept the sun from touching my flesh.
I never did come to understand why the sunlight made me sparkle like a fucking tennis bracelet, and I was glad I didn't have to see it. It made me feel fake, man-made. And that was far from what I really was. I had, in fact, lost all ties to man absolutely.
It was particularly quieter in this region of the woods; I must have been severely far from civilization. Every tiny sound was amplified. I could hear the bones shake against the sinews of small animals, rodents I believed. No fear, little ones, I am no danger to you because you are no temptation to me.
Pushing the now dry corpse off of my lap, I stood from my seated position on the forest floor. I looked down to review my appearance… Damn, I had made a mess of myself, but that never surprised me. Even after thirty-five months, I had managed to come out of a hunt all disheveled and disastrous.
It had been four days since I was in Montreal, and thus it had been four days since my last shower. I wiped the crusty blood from my chin with the sleeve of my gray sweatshirt. If I were to find the closest hotel so I could bathe and change into a fresh set of clothes, I'd have to somehow modify myself from looking like I… well, like I just snapped the neck of a baby deer and feasted on its warm bloody goodness in the middle of the woods. What's a girl to do?
The wind had shifted from the east and my nose caught the scent of a prospective aid in my endeavors. There was a stream nearby. I hooked the strap of my duffle bag around my shoulder and within a quarter of a second, I was sitting on a bolder at the stream's bank, staring into its rippling water, like melted glass. My reflection stared back at me. Regardless of how many times I've seen myself, I never grew accustomed to this new face. It was so different from what I used to know, after all. It was slimmer, closer to ivory than its predecessor, more angular, and much more charming than the face I had for so many years.
The Adeline that I saw in the stream was a stranger, but I knew I had eternity to get properly acquainted.
I cupped my hands into the water and splashed my face, rubbing certain spots I knew that were dirtier than others. I removed the rubber band from my straight jet-black hair and reapplied it, forming a much neater ponytail. After wiping my neck and collarbone down with the damp sleeve of my sweater, I opened up my bag and pulled out a clean outfit. I needed to find a place to do laundry.
As I changed from my cargo pants and sweater into a pair of warmer jeans and the black Led Zeppelin t-shirt that Natasha gave me long ago, the breeze altered directions again. I caught a brief scent in the transition, something I never encountered before: something that smelled like a combination of lilac and honeysuckles and newly baked French bread and a field of sunflowers. But I lost it once the gust changed its aim once more. I didn't bother to follow it because I didn't think much of it; it wasn't alluring enough to drive me to curiosity. It was just…there.
After having shoved my previous outfit into the bag where it belonged, I fumbled around in the many outer pockets of my duffle. Was I out of cigarettes? No fucking way, I thought, I just bought a carton in Montreal. After a twenty-third of a second, my hands grasped thin cardboard. Thank God.
I sat by the stream for a moment, puffing away at the cigarette and staring at the Surgeon General's warning on the container. I giggled to myself, disregarding the caution. I was dead already, how much more damage could it do?
Cigarettes tasted differently to me after I became… what I became. The smoke was more potent; it was richer, thicker, and smoother. And it helped with the constant aching in my throat. It was a good distraction.
Halfway through my first cigarette of the day, I heard a couple of twigs snap in the distance, perhaps… six hundred and forty three yards away. I instantly searched the air for a familiar scent. It wasn't human and it wasn't forest animal, I knew that much. And then I listened carefully, forcing everything to fade away. I ignored the flow of the stream, the pitter-patter of squirrels, the ruffling of bird feathers… and I couldn't find what I was expecting. Whatever had broken the twigs was closing in now, quieter, as if it knew that I was aware. Six hundred yards. Five hundred and fifty. Five twenty-five. Five hundred. It was moving faster than a human, but slower than how I usually moved.
Then I became instantly frightened as it reached the three hundred yard mark because what I suspected was what I instantaneously confirmed… no heartbeat.
That couldn't be possible. I became still, like I had been a part of the forest all along. I tried to merge myself entirely with the large rock below me, but it wouldn't work… so I braced myself for whatever it was that approached the clearing between two enormous oaks just seventy-six feet behind me. I couldn't see it, but I knew it was coming closer. I prayed that with the impending proximity, I would begin to hear a pulse. The mixed essence of lilac and honeysuckles and sunflowers and baked goods got stronger, submerging my senses… but still no heartbeat.
And within a little shorter than half a minute, I felt its presence behind me. The smell was at its peak and… did I?... yes… I heard breathing. Breathing! Breathing, but no heartbeat.
Instead of removing my focus from the cigarette in my hands… instead of turning around to face the enigma that had my insides in a flurry… I just sat still. I did not turn around. In fact, I wanted to disappear. I was terrified, hoping to God that my utter lack of motion had rendered me totally invisible.
More seconds passed, but I knew it was still there, as stationary as I was. Had I frightened it in return?
The ash began to thicken on the tip of my cigarette and the smoke began to diminish. I was running low on matches, and I didn't want to have to waste another to relight it, so I brought it up to my mouth, as slowly as physically achievable, and inhaled deeply. I watched as the end burned a bright orange and the sound of the paper and poisonous tobacco burning with more fervor practically echoed around me through the trees.
Before I could exhale, I heard a deep and fluid male voice from the spot where my enigma stood, "Who… are… you?" It seemed almost rhetorical.
My mind had collapsed in on itself and so many various thoughts spun around in madness.
Is he human?
Or is he like me?
How is that even possible? I thought I was alone in this.
Does he know what I am?
Am I trespassing?
Should I turn around and introduce myself?
Should I run away?
Would he follow me?
Would he even catch up to me?
Is he scared too?
And then one notion repeated itself over and over, almost robotically…
Is he a threat?
He spoke once more, calmly, as if I had verbalized my wonder, "I mean you no harm."
There was something so enthralling about his voice. It was eloquent and flowing, like the stream of cool water at my feet. Making a definite decision, I pressed the tip of my cigarette against the rock beside me, killing its fire. I stuck the filter in my pocket, not wanting to litter in the likelihood that this was his land.
At a snail's pace – or at least what felt like it – I began to rotate on my perch, trying not to startle him with my speed and agility in even the simplest of movements, incase he was human.
That consideration flew out the window the instant I saw him.
His skin was as white as mine, and he had the same elegant grace, even in his tall stature, that I had acquired after my transformation. His eyes were a warm golden hue, with a slight tint of amber… just like mine. He stood immobile, like an old statue in the square of one of the many European cities I had seen. His frame did not move even in the slightest manner, but his expression did change a bit when we locked eyes. It seemed to have relaxed and tensed up simultaneously.
Instinctively, I held my hands up in surrender, hoping to assure him that I was no danger, even though… I wasn't sure myself. There was no way for me to be sure without being aware of his intentions.
"I mean you no harm either," I urged in my solid Scottish intonation.
He furrowed his brows, "You're uncertain about that."
He was quite observant.
"Only because, stranger," I explained, "I am uncertain of you."
The young man, which looked very close to boyhood actually, fell silent, as if trying to filter something with his mind… as if he was listening to something specific.
Following just a moment of this quiet, he spoke again, "I am not a threat," he insisted, taking half a step forward. "I do not mean to worry you." He imitated me and brought his hands up. "My name is Edward Cullen. I live just a quarter of a mile south of here."
He seemed genuine enough, so I placed my hands in my lap.
"I am Adeline Bird. I… don't live anywhere."
This seemingly amused him because the left corner of his mouth wrenched upward in a surprisingly engaging and crooked smile.
So my enigma had a name. Edward Cullen.
"This might sound like a bizarre question," I began, poking for clarity, "but… are you… human?"
"No," Edward answered without hiatus, putting his arms back to his sides, "I am like you."
I couldn't sort through my thoughts or emotions to respond to him. I was wrapped tightly in so much confusion, but so much gratitude and relief as well. I was not alone after all. I had traveled the world for nearly three years, living a life… well, living a death of solitude. How was it conceivable that I had wandered around and covered all that land without stumbling upon another – I hate the word, but it's the only word – vampire until now?
He interrupted the storm that had swept up all the contents of my brain, "How old are you?"
My time as a human outweighed my time as a vampire, so I replied without carefully examining his choice of phrasing or my own, "Twenty-one."
He shook his head, as if realizing he should have worded his query better, "How long have been a vampire?"
Even though that word in particular had a heavy weight on its own, there was something easy about this, something natural about the irregular conversation. I felt like I had it a million times before.
"It will be three years next month."
His eyes widened with what I assumed to be shock, which I didn't understand, "Three years?" He reiterated. "Three years?" he asked again. "Three years and you feed on animals?"
Clearly he caught the scent of Bambi on my breath.
"Yes."
"Contentedly?" his voice cracked almost unnoticeably.
His bewilderment truly puzzled me. "Yes. Why is that hard to believe?"
"Because you're so young," Edward reacted, placing his hands on his waist and taking a few steps closer.
He couldn't be more than… sixteen? Seventeen? A seventeen year old was calling me young?
I slid off the rock and inched closer to him, our eyes sustaining contact and my anxiety thawing into oblivion with every second that passed. I sensed no peril while being in the presence of Mr. Edward Cullen. When I stopped moving, he and I were just eleven feet apart. I didn't really know why at the time, but I felt the massive urge to rid the remaining distance between us and take his hand in mine – an appropriate and typical introductory gesture. I shook my head free of the thought; there was nothing appropriate or typical about the situation, so I stood still, eleven feet away from my new acquaintance.
I gave him a quick once-over. His bronze-tinted hair was tousled as if he had just rolled out of a long night's slumber, which I knew was unlikely because, if we were as similar as he said we were, he hadn't slept a minute since…
"How long have you been this way?" I asked him suddenly, not completing my private musing.
Devoid of any hesitation, he replied, "Since 1918."
"Holy shit!" I blurted. This made him wince slightly and I felt ashamed immediately. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me." Great, Adeline, you just cursed in front of the oldest being on earth. "I've got a very foul mouth," I explained unnecessarily (of course he knew by now.) "It's gotten me into trouble on many occasions. One time, when I was just a child, I took the Lord's name in vain right in front of my mother and she actually washed my mouth out with a bar of soap, a real bar of soap. My meals tasted funny for a week after that –"
"Ms. Bird?" he disrupted.
"Yes?"
Through a tiny grin, he plainly said, "You're rambling."
"I'm sorry. I do that when I'm nervous."
He stepped back.
Thirteen feet.
"Why are you nervous?" he tilted his head in curiosity. "Do you feel unsafe around me?"
"No, not at all, Edward!" I searched for the best explication, quietly enjoying the way his name sounded falling off of my tongue. "It's just… I didn't know our kind could really live that long." Listen to me… 'our' kind… as if I knew I even had a fucking kind. "I thought, just like the bit about the sun, it was a myth."
"We tend to live very long," Edward told. "We could outlive the entire world – mankind as we know it."
We?
"That's," I pondered for a moment, "nice." My conversational skills are staggering, I know.
He smiled, which I could tell was something he did frequently. I liked the lines his face formed when they did this; they made it harder to guess at what age he was stuck forever, although I was convinced it was seventeen. "To say the least," he spoke. He averted his eyes to the ground for a quarter of a second. "Earlier, you said that you live nowhere. Is that true?"
"Yes." I was sinking deeper into comfort now. This discussion didn't seem as forced or as unnatural as it did in the beginning. I actually wanted him to know my story. I wanted Edward to know everything, because I wasn't sure if I'd ever get another chance to share like that again. "The word 'home' doesn't have the meaning to me that it once did. Since my change, home is where I just happen to do my laundry, or charge my iPod, or take a shower."
"You have been traveling for nearly three years, and you never settled down?" His tone made it sound more like a statement than an inquiry.
"I did for a short time. I bought a small cottage in South Wales after this-" I waved my hands down my body "-all happened. It's just been a while since my last stay."
"Why did you leave it in the first place?"
As I thought of the best answer, I stuck another cigarette between my lips and lit it up, inhaling before talking, "I wasn't ready for permanence yet."
He eyed the cigarette that I held between my knuckles as if it were some ridiculous abnormality, but then his gaze traveled back up to my face. He seemed to have been paying attention to something, a noise off in the expanse of the forest maybe, but I wasn't sure because I didn't hear anything out of the ordinary.
This man, I began to narrate inside my head, taking advantage of his silence, this vampire is staring at me. Why on earth is he staring at me? Is there something in my teeth? Did I miss a spot of blood? Mechanically, I lifted my cigarette-free hand up to my chin and wiped it, hoping I didn't leave anything behind the second time.
He continued to watch me, saying nothing.
Is he preparing to attack? I don't think so. It wouldn't make much sense. Why bother with the song and dance? Why bother with the personal questions? Why get to know your prey before you annihilate it? Maybe he was doing it for kicks or something, a kind of sick ritual before the first strike.
Before I could step back and widen the space between Edward and me, he lifted his hand and redirected his eyes to connect intensely with mine, "No," he said, "I promise you that I have no intention of hurting you. You are safe."
How does he do that? I wondered to myself. Am I that obvious? I thought I had a pretty good poker face.
All he did was smile at me, and I admit, even though he was the farthest from my type, his smile was incredibly beautiful in all its asymmetry, dazzling even.
He continued to speak, apparently full of questions, "How did you wind up here in Forks?"
"Forks?"
"Forks, Washington," he specified.
"Washington? Ha-ha, oh shit," I said, "I thought I was still in Canada."
He didn't flinch at my verbal folly this time. "I've done that before. You caught the scent of an animal," he lifted his nose up in the air and sniffed, "a fawn it smells like, and then just let your instincts take over. I can't tell you how often I unknowingly cross borders during a hunt. Is that where you're from, by the way? Canada?"
I shook my head, "No. It's just where I ended up. I'm from California."
"Your accent says otherwise."
"Born and raised in Glasgow," I coolly made clear, "but we moved to Long Beach when I was sixteen."
"Tell me something," he requested after absorbing my reply, "out of all the places you've seen, which one is your favorite?"
I became flattered by Edward's interest in me, so I was eager to satiate his need for information.
"That would have to be Paris." I answered, recounting the short but fulfilled time I spent in the wonderful French city. "All of the art and the delectable aromas in the air were… treasures to my senses."
"I have to agree with you on that one," he disclosed, now leaning his weight against a tree. "Paris is a grand place to be, but wasn't it difficult to really experience the city, as well as everywhere else you've been, given your limitations?"
"Limitations?" I've never regarded myself to be limited. I actually thought of myself as limitless.
The corner of his mouth perked up once more, "The sun on your skin. How did you walk around without exposing what you are?"
Oh. "Long sleeves, long pants, and lots and lots of make-up."
He set free a brief snicker, "I'll have to remember that for the rare sunny days we have here." Edward paused for a whole second and then proceeded. "How can you – I mean, why do you smoke?"
It was then I realized that this was mostly a one-way interrogation, and that was not at all what I wanted. I wished to know my new associate as well as he was coming to know me. "You've got a lot of questions," I said after taking in and releasing the smoke from my beloved cigarette, "May I ask you some?"
"But of course," he insisted, folding his arms in front of his chest, "fire away."
"Do you drink human blood?"
Why the fuck did I ask him that? It's none of my business. Oh, I bet I angered him.
He let out half a chuckle, "No. My family and I hunt animals, same as you."
His family?
"Your family?" I practically shouted.
I couldn't grasp it. His words just refused to register. My mind was absolutely reeling. Family? I was lost, utterly and wholly lost.
Flashes of tiny vampire children running through sprinklers, his vampire wife stirring a cold pitcher of iced blood, and an old, wrinkled vampire Grandpa sitting on a porch, packing his wooden pipe with tobacco raided my head. I pictured photos on a fireplace mantle of baby's first bite and Mommy and Daddy's vampire wedding – her, whoever she was, in a red gown and him in a black tux… red bowtie and cummerbund. I pictured their home more vividly then – shades drawn constantly, no – boards nailed to the windows, no – there were no windows at all. There were wrought-iron chandeliers hanging low in every room, lit black candlesticks resting in their impeccable places. The kitchen empty save for a refrigerator fully stocked with blood-based treats: carbonated blood, blood popsicles, blood pudding, whipped blood mousse, blood sorbet for guests, spiked blood for after the children 'go to bed', and–
Edward's laughter cut me off. He was clutching his stomach now and laughing, truly laughing. His face looked strained and I feared his grin would cut through the unbreakable skin of his cheeks. The sound of it rang against the many trees surrounding us. I felt the vibrations dance through my body and deep into my bones.
"What the fuck is so funny?" I demanded, refusing to censor myself because I was insulted.
His cackles dimmed and then he looked at me with a sincere expression, "Nothing. I was just… thinking of something."
Probably how absurd my face was when my mind strayed.
He maintained his composure and asked me a question I truthfully didn't expect: "Would you like to meet them – my family?"
That word was so strange to hear coming from his lips… a vampire's lips.
I didn't know how to answer.
YES! I wanted to say to him. Yes, I would love to meet your family and learn from them and observe them and confirm or deny my ludicrous or logical assumptions. Yes, take me to them!
Something then occurred to me. "No, I don't think that would be a good idea."
Edward appeared hurt or… concerned? "Why? Do you still not trust me? I understand… this is all too much for you. I am just so eager for you to meet them and for them to meet you… It's rare we receive new vampires in town that don't end up imperiling our comfortable lifestyle. They will be thrilled to know you are a vegetarian like us" – vegetarian? I thought. That's a nice way to put it – "and I assure you, Ms. Bird, there's no reason to worry. We are a peaceful clan. You've no need feel in jeopardy."
How sweet, he was concerned for me. I found this endearing.
"No, Edward, it's not that at all. I do confess…" I bit down on my bottom lip and flicked the dead ash from my cigarette, "at first, I was petrified. But I now know. I now trust you, about as much as I could trust someone in a circumstance like this." I discharged a tense giggle. "I don't think you or anyone in your family would hurt me."
"Then what is the problem?"
"I don't worry for myself here. I worry for them."
His face persuaded me to elaborate.
"You see… I don't want to threaten them. I can only imagine the uneasiness they would feel while having a complete stranger, a totally unknown vampire enter their home and their lives without warning, without warrant. Even though I am far from hostile, how could I expect them to be sure? It would feel like an invasion, and that's the last thing I want to do to potential allies. I do not want to invade."
He beamed at me again and simply said, "Then I will bring them out here."
"How many are there in your family?"
"Besides myself, there are eight."
I couldn't believe it: eight. Up until a short while ago, I thought I treaded the world alone, ordained for an eternity of solitude. I thought I was to spend life on the outside, looking in on the bonds and the love that humans so often formed with each other. I thought it was just going to be Adeline and no one else. But suddenly, without even searching for them, possibilities fell into my lap, and even though I knew I wouldn't stay with Edward's family… I knew that I would walk away with a new sense of belonging – a sense of being a part of something for the first time since my fateful change.
Edward cocked his head to the side and gently pushed himself off the tree, standing upright and pulling me away from reflection, "So… would you like to meet them?" Even though the sun was not shining through the nearly solid canopy above, his face seemed to be glowing. And I was pleased to conclude that it was out of excitement.
"Yes."
Right after I agreed to meet those he loved, I grew nervous, not out of fear for my life, but out of fear that they wouldn't like me. I so desperately wanted them to be comfortable with me, albeit I was imposing on their territory, their home.
"Stay right here, I will be back in just a minute."
Edward was gone in a flash, and I was enthralled by the litheness of his movement, the speed and the momentum. Do I look like that when I run?
When I was by myself in the woods again, it felt strange. Before encountering Edward, I was generally content with my involuntary seclusion, but now that I knew I had an option, I just didn't want it anymore. I wanted to be with him because he was just like me. He was, I suppose, my brother of sorts.
I exploited the time I had alone, however, to prepare myself for the primary meeting. I smoothed back my hair and tightened the pony tail and I brushed off all the dust from the forest that had accumulated on my t-shirt. Then I looked down at the tattoos on my forearms (I was grateful to find out that they had stayed on my skin even after my conversion) and hoped for dear life that they wouldn't make me look like a hooligan to Edward's family. I killed the small fire on the tip of my cigarette and then tucked the filter into my pocket with the other one. And just as I was examining my sneakers for noticeable scuffs, I heard voices from afar.
I couldn't make out what they were saying, but I detected an apparent splendor in their tenors. The voices were so soft that I wanted them near me, silently pleading for them to come closer. As if they were weaved into a silken sheath, I longed to be enveloped in those very voices.
I heard foot steps now, closing in on me, and if it were any other day, any other condition, I would have stiffened in defense, but I did not. On the contrary, I relaxed. For the first time in three years, I was going to be in the company of my equals. I was going to be a puzzle piece that actually fit to something, rather than one that had by some means lost its crowd.
Edward came through the line of trees first, smiling big. He had rid himself of the tan cashmere sweater he was wearing before and I could plainly see the definition of his physique through his gray t-shirt.
And then I saw them.