Disclaimer: All Twilight characters are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. The use of them in this work is only for entertainment purposes and in no way for monetary gain. Any original characters are my own. Any similarities to real-life people or events are solely coincidence.

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Chapter Four

Once again in the cozy study, he had explained the entire story to Christine. Bella, the first few agonizing weeks they had spent getting to know each other. He knew she could read his mind clearly, and he wondered if she could see Bella in his mind. If she could feel the pulling force that led him through her window at night, drawing him constantly into her presence.

"Yes," she smiled distantly. He continued into the story of the Cullens in Forks, and how they had been able to develop a life there. As the sun began to set along the tops of the trees, he recounted the treaty between the Werewolves and the Cullens and how Bella kept a dog as a friend. She laughed lightly. "You dislike this."

"Extremely," he gave her a crooked smile, "But she insists, and I can deny her nothing." A small smile crept to his lips as he thought of her reluctance to ever ask anything of him, and his own eagerness to give her whatever she pleased. In so many ways they were so alike, and yet so different.

"You must allow me a few days to prepare for our trip."

"Of course," he replied "May I be of any help?"

"There will be something I will need from you, yes, but I will let you know when I need it."

For the next few days, Edward tried to remain composed even though he was petrified of returning to Forks. What if Bella refused this? What if she had moved on? What if she were with him? His nostrils flared as the venom moistened his throat, if she were, he was unsure how he would behave.

Attempting to give Christine as much time and freedom as she needed to finish her preparations, Edward had taken to long wanderings in the neighboring swamps. When he thirst, he fed on the creatures lurking in the murky waters, their eyes glazing over in surprise when a larger predator found them. He saw Christine very little in the next few days, though he occasionally looked in on her, only to find her deep in meditation. She ate nothing and barely moved from her position, he would have thought her dead. The blood pulsing steadily through her veins let no room for question, she was alive. Though he knew where her body-with it's rich thick blood-was, he knew nothing of her psyche, in that barrier she had not wavered. A part of him was totally infatuated with what the witch was doing, but his constant thoughts of Bella drowned out any curiosities.

By day three, he was nearly at his wit's end. He sat in one of the leather chairs in the study, a collection of Frost's poems open in his lap. He had always been one of Bella's favorite poets, and Edward longed for the sound of her soft voice. Had he not been a vampire, he would not have heard Christine's light steps in the hallway or the turn of the antique doorknob as she stepped inside. With a long, exhausted sigh, she slid into the companion chair at his right.

"You've finished?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied, turning her head to face him. Her almond shaped eyes looked tired. "We may leave whenever you wish."

"What-" he was unsure if he wanted to ask the question, or if he wanted to know the answers.

Reading his thoughts, she replied, "There was an array of preparations to be made, tools and ingredients to gather. I spent most of the last days calling upon the spirit world to assist me in this endeavor. Sometimes, it takes many attempts to locate the stronger spirits and to convince them to help me."

"You did not have to bargain your soul?" he teased her with a smile.

"Oh, Edward," she laughed "You know as well as I that I gave my soul away a long time ago."