"Oh, come on, Eddie," Xan said, tugging on the back of her pony-tail childishly. "Don't be so rash."

"It's for her own good," he said as calmly as possible, packing his clothes at lightning speed.

"You know she'll be crushed," she urged, leaning back against the rather large bookcase that took up a corner of his room. "She won't be any better off!"

"She won't have vampires begging for her blood," Edward pointed out, nearly shoving her in repressed anger as he ripped the books from the shelves.

"Edward," she said, taking his arm and yanking his body around so he faced her and their eyes locked, "none of you would have ever hurt her. You know that."

He diverted his eyes, jerking his arm from her iron grip and scanning his large collection of CDs in order to pick his favorites from the aquisition. Unable to choose, he flitted to his closet, extracted yet another large suitcase, and began filling it with all the CDs he could fit.

Then he moved on to his batch of music sheets. He shuffled through the small assortment and took about ten peices. Xan noticed that he didn't bring his hand-written lullaby that had been created in Bella's honor.

Maybe he doesn't want to be reminded of her? Xan wondered.

Or maybe he just knew that one best of all, by heart.

"You can't change my decision," he said, finally stopping in his chaotic rush. "You saw how her birthday went."

"Only Jasper lost control fully," Xan reminded, ignoring the audible flinch of Jasper downstairs. "The rest were quite well-behaved."

Edward chuckled darkly. "And you?"

Xan looked away and stared intently at the wall. "I wasn't so bad..."

Edward rolled his eyes, dropping the well-ironed blue button-down shirt he was holding. "I guess I can't blame you. You acted as any immortal child, throwing a tantrum from lack of fresh blood..."

Xan emitted a guttural snarl that only a two-headed, ravenous, snake-wolf monster from the pits of hell could have replicated. "If that is so," she said fiercely, "why am I left with the girl?"

Edward sighed, sitting down heavily on his immaculate couch.

"To tell the truth," Edward mumbled, rubbing his temples, "you're the one I trust to most. I mean, the rest are as trustworthy, Alice especially, but...I don't know, I think you're the most capable, in this situation."

Xan coughed uncomfortably, trying to hide her pride at his words. She grinned. "Well, you know. I'm French, after all..."

Edward smiled wryly. "Yes, I suppose that's true," he then stood, looking rather exhausted, though vampires could not actually be exhausted.

"Will you do it?" Edward pleaded. "Look after her, I mean. For me?"

Alexandrine sighed. "Well," she said, staring at her flip-flops, "I suppose...but what of the Quileutes?"

"Carlisle has promised to make an agreement," Edward assured. "But there might have to be some heavy consequences on your part."

Xan groaned, like a teenager told she couldn't go out with her friends that night. "Those doggone shape-shifters!"

Edward's eyes furrowed. "I thought they were werewolves."

She shook her head. "Nah, the werewolves are from Europe. Nasty things. They're called the Children of the Moon. Caius had it out with one, once. Disgusting little buggers. Caught him in the face with a claw. And you know Caius. Got so angry...well...it's probably too graphic to describe even to you, Eddie."

Edward stared into his bedroom mirror, mounted on the wall opposite the bookcase. He stared into it for an immeasurable amount of time, just staring.

Xan watched in a kind of fascination at the obvious look of self-loathing imprinted on Edward's facial features.

Finally, in an ear-splitting explosion, Edward's fist collided with the mirror, shattering it into tiny peices that ricocheted from the furniture, while the sound boomed throughout the home.

"I'm so sick of this life," he murmured in a dark, foreboding tone.

Xan nodded in empathy. "Me, too, Ed," she whispered. "Me too."