Chapter 7:
Kiss of Fate
~Esme
The simple knowledge that I would be seeing Carlisle again tonight made all the difference to my mood when I came back to Volterra.
I had always prided myself in being an expert at keeping secrets. I made my face a mask to the rest of the world, hiding my true emotions behind a pair of unfazed eyes and an impassive tone of voice. However, the sheer mirth I felt from knowing I would be meeting one particular man later that night was almost impossible to hide.
Even as I entered the black gates of our palace and made my way through the silent courtyard, I wondered if the rest of the Volturi could sense that something was different in my demeanor. I wondered if they could see my genuine jubilation through my forcibly stony exterior.
The hours could not go by quickly enough. I was watching the clock, counting the seconds as I paced unproductively through the courtyard, wishing there was some way I could make the colors of the sky change faster.
My hands were restless, my fingers picking at the vines that crawled up the stone walls. My feet were just as anxious, tapping against the marble tiles in the veranda as I made my idle rounds. My dead heart was fluttering just at the thought of leaving this place behind to meet Carlisle again that night.
The balance of my anxiety shifted suddenly when the presence of another vampire threatened the safety of my solitude. I glanced over my shoulder as the wind picked up gently, drawing my attention to the generous silhouette which stood in the darkened archway.
I held my breath as Felix stepped around the gate and into the courtyard.
He was so attentive, so disturbingly aware of my whereabouts at all times. It unsettled me that he always seemed to know where I was. He had a habit of turning up when I least desired his company.
His broad face broke into a suspiciously knowing grin that any other woman would consider sinfully attractive. However, in all the years I had been forced to share a home with the man, I knew better. His exterior, like all other vampire men, was irresistible. But on the inside, he was a shallow, conceited, ungrateful monster.
"Where were you this morning?" he asked, his deep voice sending an unpleasant shudder through me.
Before I could panic, I calmed my expression and turned around fully to face him, leaning casually against the wall.
I scoffed. "I don't know why you think that is any of your business."
With the practiced gait of an arrogant bastard, he sauntered over to me and leaned his arm against the wall beside me, hovering with a look of strange glee on his face. "You've hardly been around at all lately. I only wonder where you've been sneaking off to."
"Who says I've been sneaking?" I challenged, crossing my arms defensively over my chest.
"It's obvious you don't want anyone to inquire you about it. Why else would you avoid talking about where you have been going?" he retorted. As much as I believed Felix to be all muscle and no mind, sometimes he had moments where his intelligence served him well, and I hated him for it.
"It's no secret where I've been going," I answered flippantly, playing it smooth. "I've been visiting Rome for the past week."
The best way to combat suspicion was to simply tell the truth.
"Ah..." He looked skyward, as if he were thinking hard about all the reasons I might be traveling to Rome so often. "And why the sudden interest in Roma?"
I sent him a saccharine smile as I kicked him lightly in the shin. "I find that the people there make more appealing company than those here in Volterra."
"We can surely change that."
His words were sexually charged, and the nature of his advance echoed the tone of his voice as he stepped forward to cover me in his shadow.
An unpleasant lurch filled my stomach as I stepped back and gave him a hard, icy stare. He knew better than to override my clear discouragement. When I did not want something, I would not take it. I had spent enough of my human life being controlled by men. I made a vow to myself that I would never let a man control me again in this life. Instead, I would control them.
So far I had been successful.
It helped a great deal that, deep down, I knew Felix was truly weaker than I was.
His grin faded into a rigid sneer as he saw the disinterest in my glaring eyes.
Before he could utter another word, Sulpicia emerged from the palace gate, entering the courtyard with an air of duty about her. She carried herself gracefully to where we stood, her eyes fixed on us both, piecing together what had happened from the looks on our faces and our opposing stances.
"Is everything well out here?"
I never took my eyes away from Felix, but his eyes wandered nervously as Aro's wife approached us, her normally sweet voice like a rock.
"Felix, darling? You seem a bit troubled."
He winced at her patronizing tone and shook his head without a word as he stalked off the courtyard, leaving us two women together.
"Thank you," I murmured gratefully as soon as Felix was out of sight. I did not care if he heard me. In fact, I hoped he would. "How is it you always manage to have such perfect timing?" I asked Sulpicia with a small smile.
She responded with a wry smile of her own. "I can sense when one of my sisters is trapped in an unpleasant situation." She pushed her long silvery blond hair behind her shoulder and shrugged. "It is something of a gift."
My smile weakened as I considered how often my moments with Felix had to be interrupted in order to "rescue" my honor. Continuously I dodged his advances, and yet he still was unable to read my distaste for him. Secretly I feared one day he would resort to force with me.
"Esme? Is there more going on here that I am unaware of?" Her question made me freeze warily. "You seem more distant lately...but you do not seem as unhappy as I've known you to be." Her face scrunched in confusion as she stared at me. "I know this change has nothing to do with Felix. You are...distracted by something. Forgive me for my concern, but as your friend I am curious."
Sulpicia had always been the most sensitive of the Volturi, but this also made her the most aware. She seemed to know my feelings just by one glance in my direction. As useful as this ability could be, it was also quite dangerous. I worried that if anyone could somehow catch me in my secret escapades, it was Sulpicia.
"If there has been a significant change in my demeanor, I am unaware of it," I offered with a shrug. I put on my most convincing face of honesty, and I was vain enough to believe she bought the act. "Everything is the same as it always has been."
Sulpicia narrowed her thin blond eyebrows and leaned slightly closer, as if she could see into my mind.
Fortunately for me, no vampire I knew had the gift of mind reading.
"Very well. If you say nothing is wrong, then nothing is wrong. I know you would be honest with me if you ever needed my help."
My heart broke a little bit as she solidified her support in spite of my insistence. She seemed to be giving me a hidden hint through her words, one that I could neither ignore nor deny. For a moment I almost considered telling her about Carlisle…
But that would have destroyed my last chance of ever meeting him again.
So I kept quiet, thanked my friend, and continued to pace the courtyard until the seventh hour fell.
-}0{-
Waiting in the courtyard in Volterra had been frustrating at best. Waiting in the Gardens of Lucullus, however, was utterly agonizing.
I was unable to keep still at all as I paced beneath the dark shadows of the Tempio di Diana. The marble pillars around me may as well have been the bars of a prison, keeping me locked to one place though I itched to run about the gardens and look for him myself.
I knew by the look of the sky that it was well past seven o' clock, and still he was nowhere to be seen.
Knowing his scent would have been the first clue I would pick up, I kept my sense of smell on alert, drinking the air more deeply with every breath in the hopes that I would catch even the slightest hint of his sweetness.
My chest became more bitterly empty with every passing minute. At the beginning of the evening it seemed impossible that he would not show up tonight. In fact, the thought had not even crossed my mind once. But his lateness at this point was inexcusable. Either something had happened, or he had forgotten me.
Or worse...
He had changed his mind about meeting me.
Out of all the reasons that could have kept him away this night, not one brought comfort to my heart.
If he was in danger, how would I know? If he had forgotten our meeting entirely, what did that say about my importance to him? If he had changed his mind and chosen not to meet with me, what could have caused him to second guess my trustworthiness?
I had never been more nervous for one person to arrive before in my life. My hands were wringing constantly, almost enough to chafe my indurate skin. The night wore on around me, growing darker and deeper, taunting my hopes that a figure might emerge from the shadows with blond hair and blue eyes...
Just before I could cross the bridge of panic, I heard the trotting sound of a distant horse approaching from the hills. No path in the country was wide enough to accommodate a carriage, so I assumed it could only have carried one man. My heart swelled with a daring hope as I peeked out through my marble prison and inhaled the waking night.
He was coming to me. It was unmistakable.
So far, yet so strong. His scent consumed me from the inside out, a delightful challenge to my control as it made my thirst blaze mildly in my throat. I prepared myself mentally for when he would arrive, so anxious to see him that counting the minutes suddenly was not enough. I forced myself to count the seconds instead.
The evening thrummed back to life, and the darkening sky no longer seemed threatening. The sleek gradient of royal blue creeping over the horizon was now a most welcome sight.
All worries for why he was so late were cast out of my mind as my eagerness to hear his voice and see his face overran my better judgment. Without a thought, I leapt from my hiding spot in the garden temple, our chosen meeting place, and ventured out into the hedged path.
I wanted desperately to find him before he found me. But I would not let him see me if I did; I wanted him to come to me, still. With this tentative plan in mind, I darted my way back through the path of rose urns to the North entrance of the gardens. My head was spinning frantically as my eyes glanced obsessively from shadow to shadow, thinking anything that moved might possibly be him.
I could smell him, even closer now. My venom was flowing and the temperature of the night air was steadily rising. The energy in the earth beneath my feet was alight with new life, all because he was on his way to me.
My ears picked up the faintest sound of his horse gruffing as it made its way up the very last hill, and the mild voice of my beloved as he encouraged the animal through the final stretch.
I ducked behind a nearby tree with generous girth to hide while I watched the gates for him to arrive.
He did not know I was watching him. I grinned in the darkness and clutched tightly to the tree that protected me from his sight.
Slowly, his horseback silhouette was conjured by the restless ocean of shadows beyond the garden gate. I watched as his sleepy-eyed mare struggled to trot the rest of the way up the hill. I quickly became impatient with the beast, regretful that she had to be so slow on her hooves.
In spite of his obvious lateness, Carlisle did not appear as impatient with his horse's pace.
I smirked to myself when I saw the endearingly simple clothes he had chosen to wear for this evening. He wore the ensemble of a humble traveler, and there was something so delightfully refreshing about the way he did not try to hide beneath jeweled cloaks and other fineries. He was so different from the men I knew in Volterra.
Carlisle did not hide anything, nor should he. He was most beautiful like this, in his loose chalky-white peasant shirt and faded breeches and worn-in boots. Something about him was so second-hand and slightly disheveled, as if he had traveled across the country for two days straight to see me. He was so wonderful, so raw, so avant garde. Like one of those perplexing works of art that is simply thrown together, but is regarded as a masterpiece.
When at last he arrived at the gate, I could see his face more clearly in the light of the stillborn moon. Even from a distance, my eyes were so skilled that they missed not one single detail. Every part of his appearance was more lovely than I'd remembered.
A seductive breeze weaved his appealing scent through the strands of my hair and around my body, forcing his aroma to cling to my clothes and skin. I swallowed hard and stopped my breath for a moment, reminding myself that he was perfectly capable of finding me on his own, and I did not have to linger here any longer.
If I was to keep our promise, I had to return to our meeting place.
My legs carried me swiftly back the way I'd come, through the elaborate maze of emerald shrubbery and marble arches. Behind me I could hear the distant murmur of his voice as he chatted to his horse about something or other, and a fond smile crossed my lips. I stopped only when I reached the waiting temple, taking my post where I could keep vigil on the night from a place of safety.
Even beneath the low hum of his voice, I could still hear his heartbeat from this far away.
It echoed wonderfully through the garden, becoming one with every living thing that called this place its home. It was a promising pulse for the plants, a romantic rhythm for the lonely yet beautiful night.
He could not find me fast enough.
Every time I thought I heard his heartbeat growing louder, it seemed to drift off again when he took a wrong turn or backtracked his own steps. I became frustrated when I heard his hesitant footsteps along the path, silently encouraging him to take the right direction though I knew it did no good. He would simply have to find his way here on his own.
Then, at last, after an agonizing year's worth of endless minutes, he appeared at the very end of the western path.
I caught his scent as he approached from the darkness. My enhanced vision offered me a view of his spectacular blue eyes, guileless and captivated under the stripping moonlight. He walked with the gait of an inexperienced soldier – quick and reckless, yet with a keen sense of direction. He knew where I was. Even in the dark, he seemed to know.
The perfume of his blood grew stronger as he came nearer to my hiding place. His essence mixed in with the billowing fragrance of night flora, a spellbinding combination that nearly made me lightheaded. Though he was still at a distance, I could almost feel his body heat from afar.
I desperately wanted him by my side. Soon.
I stepped out from the shadows and allowed the moon to spot me in the night. Carlisle's innocent eyes brightened with excitement, and a knee-weakening smile broke across his handsome face.
He began to sprint up the grassy hill, his glorious blond hair rippling wildly in the wind as his legs carried him faster.
Lord, I was so dangerous for him. Yet he was running toward me as if nothing could put a hitch in his pace... And I loved him for it.
I was ready to take him into my arms and clamp my teeth into that strong, sweet neck of his.
But I held myself rigid and smiled back at him as if nothing was wrong. Whenever I began to doubt my control, I forced myself to remain calm on the outside, and slowly that tranquility would fill me from the inside as well.
His spirited sprint slowed as he came to the crest of the hill that separated us, panting from the pace. The movements of his body were exquisitely fascinating to my eyes, as I thought of how humans had to do such hard work to get from one place to another. The work he had done throughout his life showed in the build of his chest, arms, and legs. I remembered fondly how skinny he had been when I pulled him from the sea. He was just a child then.
How beautifully he had changed...
A shiver ran through me as I watched him reach the steps to the garden temple where I was waiting for him, and my hands crept up to the top of my cloak to slowly draw the fabric away. I silently showed him the gown I wore beneath it, pleased with the way his fiery blue eyes seemed to linger along my body. Only this man was capable of making me feel so deliciously vulnerable, even when I knew I had more strength than fifty human men combined.
He made me question my strength in just one glance.
"I was beginning to think you had changed your mind," I said with a small, cheeky smile.
He smiled back at me like he was hiding something, and the expression was so infuriating, yet so sweet. He shook his head and whispered, "Never."
I was somewhat astounded by his devotion to me. I could hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes. Even the way he was standing, always leaning slightly toward me...
I was not even trying to lure him in. He was not my prey, but I did feel that he held a missing part of me, a part that had been hidden for much of my life.
"What took you so long to find me?" I asked him tentatively, winding my arm seductively around a marble pillar. I peeked coyly over at him from the shadows and blinked innocently as I waited for him to answer.
He bent his head sheepishly and blushed, causing my throat to burn. "I did not keep you waiting on purpose, I promise." He shuffled his foot a little bit before elaborating. "I suppose you could say I was simply...sidetracked."
"You mean to say that you have poor sense of direction?" I guessed, not bothering to hide my smile.
His blush deepened and I held my breath.
"Dismal is a more appropriate word."
I chuckled, dark but gentle, as he redeemed himself with a grin.
"Come up here," I beckoned him with the last of my bated breath, gesturing for him to join me under the dark pavilion.
His heartbeat quickened slightly as he scaled the three shallow steps with a single stride, the sound of his boots scuffing against the marble strangely satisfying as he came nearer.
I backed into the shadows, out of the moonlight, and he followed me obediently until we were both standing in the center of the ancient temple. The endless symphony of night birds and crickets was still not enough to drown out the steady drumbeat of Carlisle's heart.
Even then I was sure I had never heard another human's heart quite like his before. It was forceful, but not overpowering. It seemed to speak of his diligence, very much the heart of a hard-working man. There was such determination in this fine organ that hid inside his chest, a mysterious intensity that gave the pronounced rhythm a spirited flair. I believed it was this unmistakably vivid strength of his heart which set it apart from all the others; this which called my attention to it even in the crowded city square on First Night. Carlisle's heart beat more faithfully than the rest of them. His heart was zealous and aggressive in a curiously humble and gentle way.
His heart knew its purpose. It gave him strength, it gave him energy, it gave him life.
Oh, how I was fascinated by his heart.
Here in the shadows of these rich, deep gardens, I was shamelessly obsessed with it.
"I feel like I should be telling you a secret," I blurted suddenly. My voice was quiet, but I had a feeling that my hidden passion was not.
His brilliant blue eyes widened by the slightest margin, like a curious ocean preparing to swallow me whole. "Why don't you?" he whispered, stepping closer to me in the dark.
He was expecting too much from me, too soon. I was about to burst just having him this close, and he expected me to tell him the very reason we were both still here. My chest tightened bitterly.
"I am afraid that you might not like what I tell you," I replied honestly. I expected his face to fall in regret, but he did not give up so easily. Instead his expression was the very emblem of awakened fervor.
"Chances are in your favor that I will love what you tell me." His voice was loaded with the very love of which he spoke, letting me taste what I could not yet have. Already, he was positively lusting after my secrets.
I smirked at him in utter disbelief.
"I know men do not like to be told that they are naïve," I said slowly, surveying him from head to foot with scrutinous eyes. "But you, Carlisle, are possibly the most naïve young man I have ever met."
At this, his lips broke into an almost sinister smile, another reaction I was not expecting. I wondered if he had even heard a single word I'd just said.
"I must confess that is not the sort of secret I was expecting you to share with me," he chuckled bluntly, strange smile still in place.
"That is because it was not the secret I mentioned before..." I murmured wearily, regretful that I had led him to believe I was not taking this seriously.
He obviously noticed the swift shift in my demeanor.
"There must be a reason you asked me to come here tonight." His smile melted slightly as the light in his eyes grew dim with dejection. "Was it only to prove that I was naïve enough to obey your request?"
I shook my head slowly. "No, that was not it," I whispered, searching his face.
The night around us suddenly seemed colder.
He cocked his head in curiosity, bowing his head slightly to better meet my eyes. "Then why are we here?"
"Because we both want to be," I answered simply, softly. "Neither of us can deny that."
He again smiled slightly, some of that vivid blue light returning to his gaze. "I feel that destiny is pulling me toward you, Esme," he confessed. My heart warmed with gladness and appreciation that he felt the same way as I did. "I believe it has been a force in my life since you brought me back to shore that morning by the sea..."
He drifted off into a whisper, barely able to finish his sentence as his heart pounded on like the footsteps of a valiant soldier racing off to war. I watched the tantalizing stream of muscle ripple in his neck as he swallowed his words, once again fighting the sensational urge to bite into his sweet flesh.
I covered my nose and mouth discreetly, excusing the shield as a gesture of innocent shyness. From behind my hand, I whispered back to him, "Sometimes I think I may feel the same way."
I should have known by now that any agreement of mine would only feed his enthusiastic passion. His eyes, drunk with excitement, grew wide and eager as he leaned down closer to my height, and his hot hands reached out to gently clasp my sleeves.
"We should meet this way every night," he proposed, his words quick, eager, and dangerously enthusiastic about the idea. The look on his face was so frustratingly enticing, from the way his dimples danced on the corners of his lips to the way his cheeks became magically tainted with a thrilling pink flush.
His sweet human breath fanned across my face as he took one labored inhale after the other, awaiting my response to his daring proposition.
"I don't know if I can meet you here every night," I sighed regretfully, hating that I had to dampen his spirits so soon.
He looked for a moment as if he did not believe what he'd just heard. His face was crestfallen, as if all his dreams had been dashed with one word.
"Why not?" His voice was so small it sounded like a child's.
His hands raised from their loose grasp on my elbows to hold my arms twice as firmly, using the tight heat of his touch to try and convince me to stay with him.
"My...family would not approve of me wandering out of the house at night to visit a strange man," I said ruefully. It sounded at least partly legitimate, something he could not likely question.
"They do not have to know," he suggested, his body heat suffocating me as he leaned even closer.
I swallowed the venom that had been furiously building up beneath my tongue and tried pushing him gently away from me.
"But they will find out," I said sadly. "They always do."
"Then rebel against them," he whispered, making such a severe order sound like the breath before a lullaby. His hands only gripped me tighter when I tried to discourage contact. "Do not listen to them when they tell you how to live your life. Listen to your heart instead."
His words stung me in their irony, knowing I found it so much easier to listen to his heart than my own. I secretly envied the healthy pulsing song of his heart, one that mine would never sing again.
"You listen to your heart often, don't you, Carlisle?" I asked him wearily.
His expression was anything but weary when he gazed back at me.
"It is what led me back to you, is it not?"
"It is also what led you to nearly drown in the sea seven years ago," I reminded him cheekily, deviating somewhat from the serious curve of our conversation.
We both shared a secretive smirk.
"Yes...And you were the one who rescued me," he noted boldly, pressing his chest with the palm of his hand before he extended it slowly toward me. "And now you are back in my life. What more of a sign do you want, Esme? By God, the heavens have spoiled us!"
As he spoke, that spark of energetic heat rose again in his voice, in his eyes.
This man's passion was unceasing.
His body was so fantastically full of life, of energy, of boundless colors and textures. Oh, I imagined I could feed off of him endlessly... But I would sooner perish than give myself that chance.
The heavens have spoiled us!
His words seemed to echo in my head as they sparkled in his stirring blue eyes. I swallowed a tough lump of anxiety and struggled slightly as he grasped me gently around both wrists, pulling me nearer against my will.
"Have they now?" I asked belatedly, doubting the heavens had done much in the past to spoil me. I tried once again to pull away from him, dragging him along with me to the edge of the raised marble floor.
His face softened strangely as we stumbled awkwardly out of the shadows and into the moonlight, his heart thumping tenderly as his eyes took in the details of my lit face.
His delicate lips shone invitingly as he parted them to speak. "Oh, if only you knew how often I dreamed of seeing you again..."
I wished I could tell him how often I'd thought of him, that I'd never forgotten him either for as long as I'd lived. I already found the notion of leaving him again impossible to withstand. He was making it worse every second as he stared at me that way, with his untamed passion flooding from every pore of his being.
Before I could back away from the moonlight, he lifted a finger to gently stroke his knuckle down my cheek. I tensed, unable to fully enjoy the heartbreaking gentleness of his touch while I was so worried that the coldness of my skin would frighten him away.
But nothing in his eyes changed as he touched me. If anything, he only looked more fascinated, more pleased.
"You are so beautiful," he whispered, his words heavy and deep.
The temptation to consume him, both his love and his flesh, was intoxicating. As he touched me, I felt my desire grow twice as intense. I hated to hold my breath so often, but it was becoming more than necessary if I wished to control myself around him.
Sometimes he was simply too much for my restraint.
As his fingers passed over my cheek I could only think how sweet each one would taste if I bit them, one after the other. Those strong, lean, diligent fingers...
My imagination must have been exceptionally vivid tonight, for not a moment after I thought of it, the taste was on the tip of my tongue, melding against my lips with a heat incomparable to the sun. The sweet, salty tartness of human flesh blazed in my mouth, and I felt like I was floating with the stars in the heavens.
I summoned the dangerous daydream to end, but it did not.
I could not escape it no matter how hard I tried. I could not release myself from the dream because it was not a dream.
It was really happening.
But it was not the taste of his fingers that lingered on my tongue.
He was kissing me.
This bold, vivacious, human man.
He had leaned down to match my height, bent at the neck, breathing violently as if he had just swam a mile to shore on stormy waters. His lips moved slowly against my own with the lazy rhythm of a practiced artist, offering me a sea of unmentionable sensations, seizing me from head to toe. The soft, simple touch of his lips on mine was so unassumingly luxurious, so rich with undeniable tenderness and trust. I had underestimated him.
He was even more dangerous than I thought.
The sensation of his kiss carried itself through my entire body, settling somewhere in the surface of my thighs. My legs quivered as I backed away from his heat, abruptly breaking his precious kiss. I mourned the loss of it even as I chided myself for indulging his advance in the first place.
He whimpered sharply in protest, the helpless and reluctant sound making me ache even more to continue the blissful communion of our lips. But I was not shy in using force to keep him at bay as he fought passionately for a sly reunion.
"Wait, please!" I ordered him breathlessly, placing both hands on his chest. His muscles were wound so tightly they felt about to snap straight across, and his blood was racing so wildly that his veins were in danger of exploding. It seemed a miracle that he was able to contain himself when he was all but bursting at the seams. As much as I hated to be the one to reign him in, it was for my own good that I did it. "We must be rational about this, Carlisle."
He looked as if someone had just torn his heart straight out of his chest and trampled it into a million tiny pieces.
"What could be more rational than this...?" His voice was husky, like smoke from a low burning fire, as he stole one my hands and pressed it to his mouth. His eyes never left mine as he kissed it thoroughly, slow and sensual and suggestive in the moonlight.
I yanked my hand away, thankful that he was at least too distracted with all of his reckless kissing to notice how icy my skin was.
"Carlisle, listen to me!" I hissed at him, hiding my hands behind my back. "We may feel as though we've known each other for a lifetime, but we are truly complete strangers, and we both know that." I lowered my voice further, hoping he might come to think of our relationship as being taboo if I emphasized it enough. "Think about it. It is too soon for us to feel this way about each other!"
I should have known he would argue me before even thinking it through.
"It is never too soon to feel love for someone," he argued, his voice gravelly.
"You do not really love me. You barely know me." I tried to glare at him, but I knew my eyes would only ever be filled with tenderness when they looked at him.
"I feel as if I know you more deeply than I've ever known any other woman before," he murmured hurriedly, shaking his head so that the blond strands swept across his ears, becoming disheveled. "I know that it sounds absurd, but I could not be more true to my words. I am an honest man, Esme. If what I feel for you is genuine, than I am not ashamed or afraid to say it."
I bit my lip hard, feeling as if I could cry. His words moved me so deeply, but it killed me that I could not reveal the depth of their effect on me. I did not dare speak in reply, only shook my head idly in refute.
"I know what I feel for you must be real," he said, his soft tone profuse with passion. He moved closer to me, bending his head so that his lips were nearly level with my own again as he whispered, "I feel the earth tremble when I confess it."
I whimpered at his words, clutching my throat pointlessly to try and contain my growing thirst. My control was slipping fast, with every sentence he uttered. I knew that I inspired lust in him as well, but it was not the same. The lust he felt for me was gentle, different from the lust I had ignited in other human men. Their feelings were always soiled and perverse. Carlisle's eyes were just as fierce in their fire, but the flames felt like silk instead of knives...
"Do not speak like that," I chided through my teeth, weakening as his arm wrapped around me to keep me from leaving. I could not let myself give into him, but in that moment I truly felt as if I hadn't any choice.
"Do not recoil in fear at my words," he admonished me right back, his stance strong. "The truth should not frighten. It should bring comfort..."
I barely managed to mutter one last, feeble "please" before he deftly captured my unwitting mouth in a sudden kiss. The sensation was stronger this time, his lips no longer as shy in their delightful dance. I clung to him as he kissed me, surrendering for a few precious seconds even as I knew I would have to let him go. The thought was bittersweet enough to force a tear to my eye.
"Do you feel nothing when I kiss you?" he whispered, an underlying challenge buried beneath the sadness in his voice.
His innocent question was a curse.
I felt everything when he kissed me. His heat, his strength, his irrational love for me, all melding together in one overwhelming touch as his lips brushed against mine. It had the power to render me crippled, but at the same time, it seemed to lift me up to heights I never imagined I could reach on my own.
I burned from the inside, wishing I could speak the truth of my feelings for him as I lingered in his arms. I could not even catch my breath out of fear that I would break from the temptation.
He stared hard at my face, his blue eyes fierce, his jaw tightening with regret the longer I remained speechless.
"This was not what I had intended to happen tonight," I finally spoke, forcing the emotion to fade from my voice.
Bright, glossy tears glistened in the corners of his eyes, washing away the hope from his gaze.
"I am sorry," he whispered pitifully as he let go of my arms and stepped away. I felt a sharp, bitter coldness replace the sweet warmth of his grip.
My instincts begged me to reach out to him, but I stopped myself just in time. I could not encourage him no matter how tempting it might be...
"There is no need to be sorry," I told him. "You are a man of reckless passion, Carlisle. You let your heart control your mind."
"But I know that my heart is right."
He was hopeless.
"You know nothing about me – only what you remember from seven years ago," I emphasized, trying desperately to keep a grip on my patience. "I am not right for you. Not in that way."
He looked pained at first, but then a new frantic hope filled his face.
"Then I shall contain myself if you promise to stay, Esme. Please, I beg of you. Let me prove myself to you. I will do anything."
His insufferable eagerness was beginning to wear on me. It was too beautiful for words, the way he became so set on something, so devoted, and so engrossed in that devotion. It frustrated me and angered me, and made me feel so fully, utterly loved.
"You don't understand, do you?" I whimpered, clawing the ends of his baggy sleeves with my fingers in frustration.
"You are right, I should not have moved so quickly with you." He rushed frantically through the words, seeking instant redemption from me. "Forgive me, and we can begin again—"
"It is too late, Carlisle." I all but stamped my foot down. "We have fooled ourselves into thinking this was possible, when it simply isn't."
"Why? Why is it not possible for there to be something real between us, Esme? What obstacle can we not overcome together?" His eyes raised to the moon as he considered all the possible hindrances to our relationship. "Is it your family? Our age differences? My...circumstances...?"
His face dimmed with immediate regret as he whispered the last reason. His gaze was like stone when it came back to me, his lips hanging open, a deeply hurt expression coloring his lovely features.
I panicked, worried that I had offended him. "No! No, Carlisle. It has nothing to do with—"
"Do you think because I am only a poor apprentice I have nothing to offer you?"
"I never once thought that, Carlisle," I refuted fervently. "I am thinking only of my own shortcomings. You must believe me when I tell you: I am not good for you."
I was growing tired of saying it that way. It was too vague, and it would never satisfy him as a reasonable excuse. But it was the only way I could say it without revealing what I was. It would ruin his memory forever if he were to find out that the woman who saved his life was really a monster.
"Please do not let it end this way," he begged, his voice suddenly soft and helpless. "We've only just met again after seven years. We deserve this second chance."
"I wish I could say I felt the same," I whispered gravely.
His face went from passive to lovingly aggressive in a matter of seconds.
"I think that you do. I see it in your eyes. But you are afraid of something. You don't want me to see, but I can see it."
His breath came steady and strong as he stared boldly at me, unwavering in his intense gaze. Feeling the pressure to cave and confess, I gritted my teeth and stepped threateningly back toward the shadows.
"Do not make me run away from you again, Carlisle."
He stepped right back into my circle of safety, one solid leather boot nudging the foot of my delicate white slipper as he claimed the territory as much his own.
"You rescued me, Esme. I want to spend my life fulfilling that debt to you. I want you to be in my life, whether or not we choose to become something more one day..."
I swallowed my venom and pressed a quelling hand to his chest. "I cannot let you do that."
His heart fluttered in frustration beneath my palm, and I let my hand fall away. Under the moon, his eyes sparkled like dewy blue diamonds in the night. He looked so lost, so heartbroken, so hopeless.
"At least give me peace of mind," he pleaded, a soft sob piercing the word 'peace' as he spoke it. A tiny teardrop clung desperately to his lashes, fighting to keep from falling. "Allow me to see you again...?"
I felt as if the ground were caving in slowly beneath me. I deserved to be swallowed whole.
"I cannot make a promise that you will see me again. But I can promise that I will always do what I believe is right, in order to protect you."
Even the promise in my words was not enough to reassure him. I did not blame him. It did not even bring comfort to my own heart. I could only imagine how awful he must have felt.
It was with lead in my stomach and thirst mercilessly stinging my throat that I gave him my last, bitter parting words.
"Please do not follow me. Do not look for me. Carry on with your life, Carlisle, and do not linger in the past. Bask in the blessings you have been given."
His face was enough to make me change my mind. His raw, masculine beauty, the brightness of his eyes, the trembling of his lips. His scent, like a tenacious silk ribbon, wrapping itself around me every time I breathed.
I did not know what I believed I could accomplish by bringing him here tonight. Looking back on my decision to come here and meet him again, I could not even fathom why I had encouraged him in the first place.
It was so unfair for me to twist my every promise to him, only because I was unable to commit to my control. I feared more for his life than for my sanity. One day, he would thank me for leaving him when I had the chance to.
I took one step away from where he stood, and he could do nothing but watch me with the same empty look on his face. He was numb, in shock, frozen still as a statue in the shadow.
I could not believe that I had left him lost and alone in the gardens that night, with no way to contact me and no hope to see me again.
But somehow I knew with all my heart that I had done only what I thought would keep him safe. Sometimes it was safer not to pursue love if it meant risking life.
In my heart I knew that I had not abandoned him; it was my faith in myself that had abandoned us both.
The strong, faithful beat of my sailor boy's heart faded behind me as I ran off into the night.