A/N: Yes, this is early! Be amazed!
Chapter Four: "But there was nothing."
Colors were flat. Dull. He used to know vibrancy. He used to be able to hear the beauty in the subtle sounds of nature. Now, out in the world, he saw everything in shades of gray and beige. Discussing it with anyone was pointless.
The existence of a rock beckoned. He was a stone, too.
"Tanya, we can't stay with you openly. We're wanted fugitives." In Alaska, we met with our cousins, the original Succubi who were considered the Denali Coven, much as we were the Olympic Coven. Though Tanya and her sisters had taken the last name of Alexander – from Alexandrova, after Irina's bloodline, remembered from the bare stitches of her memory – they were often called the Denalis by those in our world.
Tanya eyed me tenderly, with no trace of her prior sexual interest in her expression. "This is about that girl?" she inquired in Russian. "The one you were running from?"
"Da." I didn't need to say anything further. She didn't inquire. Instead, she waved an arm expansively and addressed herself to my sire. "Carlisle. We are family. What is ours, is yours. We have the cabin, you know, a mile from here." Her thoughts took her to the memory of the last time she had used it, with a human male named Scott who had been an athlete in and out of bed, apparently. He had left her with a smile from that same small "hunting cabin." "You may use that as long as it is needed." With a graceful motion, she flipped her hair over her shoulder. "You said that the charges are unfounded, yes?"
Carlisle, humanity's ways and habits ingrained in him like his own musculature, crossed his legs and settled more deeply into the cushions of the sofa in Tanya's living room. Warm colors and accents reminiscent of Eastern Europe made this a tasteful abode. "Unfounded, in that we of course didn't run off with her. But that was her blood they found, yes. She ran from us."
"She must have been frightened!" Kate interjected. "I was, I remember. So do you think she'll turn up...?"
The casual tone of Kate's voice brought me to the brink of snapping. Unable to stay seated, I bounced to my feet and strode out of the room and then out the front door. I only then noticed the fading light. Winter still held sway this far to the north. I breathed in the cold, clean air. Its edges seemed to knick at my lungs, but I welcomed the slight discomfort.
Edward! Don't leave us! You can't!
"Alice..." Part of me seemed to writhe with the need to blame her – blame someone! – for what had happened to Bella. But I knew it wasn't Alice's fault. If the blame fell to anyone, it was to me, for pulling her into my world. "I shouldn't have come back in the first place," I whispered to my sister.
She stood in front of me, her small form vibrating with the need to do something. Your eyes are too dark. We're going hunting. You'll think better, then.
It became a pattern for us for the following year. We hid. Esme, Emmett and Rosalie were free to come and go in the larger, human world. Their faces weren't on posters in the small post offices and stores all over the U.S. and Canada. Their faces weren't on any Most Wanted lists to be found online. With the help of Jenks, we all had new identification, but only three members of our family could make use of theirs.
Charlie Swan was still Chief of Police in Forks, Washington and he was not letting the disappearance of his seventeen-year-old daughter be forgotten.
The days dragged by, as if in slow-motion. We hunted. We stayed hidden in the wilderness, returning to the cabin sporadically, as the mood struck us. I hated being around my family. Emmett with his overwhelming wish to make everything work right spent days at his computer, monitoring news services.
"She's a newborn," he had reminded me months past. "As much as I hate to remind you, she's going to be thirsty. And she's going to find food. And we should be able to track her down that way."
The image of my beloved Bella lunging and attacking defenseless humans – possibly still terrified to find herself needing to do so, undoubtedly hating me for bringing this to her – gave me such pain as to bring me to my knees.
I know, man. I know. But – it's the only way we've got to find her.
A tour group was lost in the Big Sur and we thought we had her. But the bodies were found eventually and exsanguination hadn't been the cause of death. It had been a clear rock-slide. No suspicious wounds...
Where was she? It was almost as if she was hiding from the humans as well as her mind hid from my gift.
I hid myself for a time, in a snowbank. It had been two years since we had seen Bella...
Alice burrowed in after me. I could hear her thoughts. I avoided her most of all; her guilt paralyzed me and left Jasper looking utterly defeated. Only when she left his side was he able to relax and I heard, on the rarer times when I was with them, what a horrid relief he felt in having his wife hunt with someone else. Anyone else. Just for a few hours.
Edward...I hate myself. If I hadn't told you –
"Shhhh," I said to her as she slid in to my snowy hole in the ground. It was dark, but it didn't matter to us. We sat with our knees pulled up to our chins, back to back. I could see her thoughts, she could sense any decisions I made...
But neither of us knew anything.
My sister spoke out loud, her voice wavering. "Maybe she didn't make it."
It was our private terror. My own personal Hell. "She has to be out there. There is no world without Bella Swan." No world for me.
"Jasper was thinking she might have run into Maria...somewhere...and that's how she's kept hidden and out of sight."
Memories of what my brother had endured at the hands of Maria made me groan in the snow. "Oh... No, not Bella. No..."
It was all my fault.
It was another day before Alice and I dug our way out of the snow. Fear had chilled us in a way that all of nature's fury could not. We walked the miles back to the cabin, our steps nearly soundless. Her mind was filled with Jasper's tales of terror and mine could not help but imagine Bella immersed in Maria's culture. What havoc was that woman wreaking now that the Southern Wars were over?
Esme all but pushed me into my bathroom to shower. I did so in a desultory manner. Over the years, I had occasionally allowed my mind to wander, to think of a possible reunion with Bella. To consider what it might be like, to be with her. Over the decades, I had learned more than I ever wanted to know about making love and I let myself, well, fantasize about Bella and me. My imagination was truly the only escape I had. When I was wrapped in my dreams, I could shut out the rest of the thoughts of my family for a short time. I pretended I was with Bella...
But no fantasies were there to comfort me this day. The nightmares I was entertaining did not even leave room for the barest hint of sensual experience. I could find no release.
Dressed in black – there was no color to be had in my heart – I reluctantly heeded the wishes of my family and joined them for a time. We sat in front of the fire. A movie played on the large HD television, but only Rosalie made any pretense of watching.
When Carlisle's cell phone rang, we all started, jerking to a mutual awareness as if we were all guilty of some crime. I saw in Carlisle's mind that the incoming call originated in Italy.
"Hello?"
"Carlisle. So good to hear your voice, my friend. I shan't waste time with trivialities, because I really just had one question for you."
We were all on our feet, the entire family gathered around Carlisle's chair. His gaze flickered over each of us. Fearful thoughts, questions, suspicions flew from mind to mind, almost like a silent thought-cacophony for me.
After a brief pause, Carlisle's eyes rested on mine again. "Aro, hello. It is good to hear from you. How may I be of service?" I have to be polite, son.
"Only by answering a simple question, dear fellow. Have you been adding to your family without telling us? Hmmm?"
A/N: Yes, I ended this chapter there. Commence with the throwing of rotten fruit. Just please – no avocados!
A note regarding posting: I have been compelled to go back to work part-time. This is a good thing, but it leaves me with rather less time to write than I had. I will continue to post once a week on this story, but I beg your indulgence if I'm not always "regular" in this regard. Flatline will be about eleven chapters long as I have it currently outlined. Thank you so much for reading.