AN: First, many, many thanks to all of you who reviewed. A lot of you mentioned how you're confused about the time period. Well, I had wanted late 1800's, but didn't really research. I was just writing the story. Actually, I hadn't even decided on the time period when I was first writing, so it's all sorts of messed up and I'm a horrible editor. So either accept the anachronisms or make me edit those things out. Like the car. Actually, if I did get rid of the car and add a few more details, I could probably make this a lot less confusing. Maybe I'll work on that in a couple weeks when first block is over and I have SO much more time. We shall see. I'll let you know. For now, just enjoy the story, things really pick up from here.
I was also really surprised I got the response I did to the last chapter – that one was actually my least favorite and quite possibly the hardest to write. I had to take a break and write something else (which became Chapter 9, I believe). This chapter, on the other hand, is one of my favorites, and was probably the most fun to write. So please enjoy! And spread the word if you like this fic. I will do my best to always update on Mondays, as promised, but if you all make me feel loved and I get the chapters from my amazing beta, I may update more frequently.
---
Chapter 6
"Bella!" I exclaimed and rushed to her side. "Carlisle, what happened?"
His eyes were hard. "I'm not sure. I found her like this in an alley on my way back. I couldn't leave her, even though…" his face fell a little, "even though… I think it's too late to save her."
"No! No, Carlisle, you have to try!" I looked at him frantically. "Please, Carlisle, don't let her die."
"I'll try my best. Help me lay her on the table and I'll get my supplies." He looked at me, full of grief, "But Edward, I don't think she'll make it. I've never seen anyone survive anything this bad." I set my face stubbornly and insisted he try anyway.
We laid her on the kitchen table. Her chest moved only very slightly. Her heart was beating too fast, it couldn't handle this speed. Her clothes were torn and dark bruises were starting to form all over her body.
I could see the distinct marks of fingers that had handled her too roughly as Carlisle left me alone to go get his tools.
And then she shifted ever so slightly exposing a cut that was sluggishly bleeding, and all hell broke loose.
The overwhelming scent of her struck me and combined with my anger at seeing her beaten, and I lost control. The dark side of me seized control of my muscles, and suddenly I was perched over her, my teeth barely an inch from her neck. There was no one to stop me. No reason to stop. She was dying anyway, the monster reasoned.
My stance could have been seen as protective, as half my body hovered over her, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. No one else would get to her. She was mine! The sense of power flowed through my body as venom pooled in my mouth, and she shuddered, taking a last gasping breath.
Then she went silent. I struck.
I bit down on the vein pulsing just below her ear. My teeth broke skin, and I drank in the sweet, sweet liquid. It was hot, soothing my suddenly parched throat. Venom seeped into her bloodstream as I drank the most delicious thing I had ever experienced. It was if I had been sustained on dirt all my life and suddenly I was fed sweet nectar. It was better than I could have ever possibly imagined. If I knew something this sweet existed, I would have combed the globe until I had found it. I wouldn't have held back that first night I met her. I fell completely under the power of the sweet, sweet taste of her blood.
But then Carlisle's voice broke the spell. "Edward!" He gasped.
I suddenly saw what I was doing. Who I was doing it to. I wrenched my eyes open and sprung away from her body.
No, no I hadn't given in. I hadn't killed her. I hadn't killed the most beautiful creature I'd ever met. It wasn't possible. I hadn't stolen life from an innocent girl. It couldn't be.
I looked at Carlisle, lost and confused. "What did I just do?" I whispered, scared.
He looked at me, pity written all over his face. "Edward, it's alright. She was already gone."
"No!" No, it couldn't be. I shouted in denial, "Carlisle she can't die, she can't be gone forever!"
He hesitated, and when he spoke it was in a very quiet tone, "You have another choice. You stopped in time. She might not be lost if you let the venom take its course."
The words hit me like a sledgehammer. Let the venom take its course? But then…
Then she would be like us. Like me. A vampire. Doomed to the life of loneliness and eternal thirst. Soulless.
I couldn't do that to her. Could I?
A war waged in my mind, and I looked at her frail, broken body. She had stopped bleeding, but her heart was still racing impossibly fast. It was undeniably true that she was dying, beyond the point of no return. There was no possible way to cure the venom that was now flowing through her veins. It was too far gone.
But did I finish the job, draining her of all blood, or did I let the venom run its course?
It was horrible of me, but I wanted to keep her. I wanted to see her smile again, wanted to see her big eyes stare up at me trustingly. I wanted to trust her.
Was that an impossible hope now? Was there any chance of forgiveness if I did that to her? She had a forgiving nature, I knew that, but everyone has their limits. Was this too far?
Her body began to shake, in sporadic seizures and I couldn't bear to hurt her anymore. Her blood would hold no joy for me. The allure was gone. I knew that with every gulp I would be hurting her more, and she had so clearly been hurt more than any person had ever deserved.
I composed my face and looked at Carlisle with cool eyes. "Let the venom run its course."
He nodded, accepting my decision. I tuned out his thoughts, not wanting to know what he thought of me. I turned my full attention to the girl on the table. "Is there anything we can do to ease the pain?" I asked quietly.
"No."
Suddenly a high pitched scream filled the air. She had regained consciousness and was feeling the whole of the pain now. She convulsed and tried to look around wildly. Her eyes landed on me, wide and full of fear. Her lips moved, trying to form a word, but no coherent sound came out. I could still read what she was trying to say, though.
Edward?
She mouthed my name in confusion, looking smaller and smaller as she shrank into herself, writhing in pain. I couldn't say anything. I had done this to her. I was causing her all of this pain. But I couldn't look away.
I met her eyes, trying to reassure her without words that I was here, that the pain would soon be over. Ridiculous as the thought that I could possibly be a reassuring sight seemed.
But it seemed to do something for her. A little of the fear drained from her eyes. Now she was just feeling the pain. And there was nothing I could do to help her.
I reached for her hand, wrapping her small fingers up in my large palm. She was so small! So fragile! How could she possible endure the pain of this without breaking into pieces?
She fell into blessed unconsciousness and was still.
It seemed surreal. I was standing in our dining room, grasping the hand of a dying girl who was curled up on the table. A girl whose blood was sweeter than anything I could have ever imagined, and yet I reviled the thought of drinking it again. This was a girl who was reassured by the sight of the one who was causing her so much pain. I looked around and saw Carlisle and Esme looking at me anxiously.
I tried to put a reassuring expression on my face, but I don't think I succeeded. So I tried a different track and asked, my voice void of emotion if there was we could move her someplace more comfortable than the dining room table. Esme suggested one of the spare rooms upstairs.
I carefully gather Bella up in my arms and relocated to the empty room next to mine. I gently laid her on the bed. Her eyelids fluttered as she watched her dreams begin. I could only hope that she found some refuge in them.
If I thought the first day was never-ending, the second day was a hellish eternity.
She cried in her sleep, tossing and turning for hours on end before suddenly screaming herself awake. Her heart was always pounding too fast, as if it were going to burst from her chest - until late in the evening of the second day when it stopped.
I was still by her bedside, wiping the sweat from her face with a cool cloth, trying to ease the pain in any way I could. It was my fault she was experiencing this, after all. I lightly dabbed her forehead, the dull thud-thud-thud of her racing heart had almost faded into background noise. Almost, but not quite, so when the room became eerily quiet, I couldn't put my finger on why at first. Then it came to me and I hated myself even more.
She inhaled sharply right before, as if trying to brace herself. She continued to gasp after the beating stopped. It seemed impossible, but she was still there. She was still here with me. Now she was living off her own blood, her body turning into something harder than diamonds, transforming into a not quite living statue.
She still shook with pain. She still cried, but no tears came anymore. She would never shed another tear.
But oh how she would want to. It haunted me, that not too distant moment when the pain would finally end and she would see what she had become, what I had done to her. I could not guess her reaction. It haunted me and frustrated me to no end. Why couldn't I see into her mind? Why couldn't I share her pain? I more than deserved to suffer as she did.
As the sun set on the third day, she became very still. She still breathed in and out, but it was no longer out of necessity. Her skin grew pale as death. Her body began to change – all the unneeded fat was burned up as her body tried to sustain itself through the transformation and she gained the unearthly beauty that accompanied this curse. Her bones shifted slightly to take the pressure of the never-ending endurance of superhuman abilities. She was still roughly the same shape and size, just…refined.
And if I had thought her lovely before, she was simply unbelievably beautiful to me now.
I wanted to soothe her somehow, needed to comfort her. She whimpered in her unconscious state. I knew she would have to wake soon and feel the last of the pain, and I wanted to do something. I felt so useless.
I hesitated briefly, then ran my fingers through her hair. She leaned into the touch. That startled me, and I pulled back, uncertain of what to do. But when she moaned again and tried to lean toward me, I stroked her head again and her body relaxed. She still quivered with pain, but it seemed…more bearable somehow when she felt my touch. It must be that she needed reassurance that someone – anyone – was there with her.
So I contented myself with stroking her dark chestnut hair. It was smooth and soft, as I always thought a lady's hair should be. I never really made it a habit of getting close enough to women to know how their hair felt. It was soothing to me, too, concentrating only on running my hand from the top of her scalp down to just above her waist where her hair ended. She was curled on her side, so I could run my fingers along the smooth planes of her back. She was still trembling, but silent.
Carlisle and Esme came in every few hours to check on her. They were probably checking on me, as well, but I was too focused on the girl in front of me to comprehend their thoughts. Esme stood behind me whenever she came in, resting a hand on my shoulder, as if trying to transfer her strength to me. Carlisle would often stand behind her, his arm around her waist. There was nothing they could do but wait.
And then, after what seemed like an eternity, as the sun rose after the third night, she stopped shaking beneath my touch. She took a deep breath.
And she opened her blood-red eyes.