A/N: Thanks for the reviews, guys! They keep me motivated. Let me know what you think of this chapter; I'm not sure how much I like it and your input matters to me.

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Chapter Six

When we pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, the red Jeep was already there, waiting in a spot nearest the room at the far end of the building. Edward pulled the Volvo into the space next to the Jeep and shut off the engine. He was about to leave the car when I grabbed his hand.

His eyes locked with mine. "What?" he asked, his voice still hollow. It was starting to frighten me; I had never seen him this detached before.

"We'll figure everything out," I said.

His gaze penetrated mine and I felt like my mind was open to him. I didn't like the feeling, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from his. He didn't say anything as he took my hand off of his wrist and opened his door, sliding out of the car gracefully.

I sat in the car, staring at my hand, wondering what had just happened. I didn't have much time to think about it, as my door was being pulled open. I stepped out of the vehicle, Edward took a hold of my hand, and I followed him into the hotel room.

The decorations hadn't changed a bit. The room was still a hideous shade of yellow and orange, caught between the color of cat vomit. My eyes flickered over to the television and I held back a smile at the brutal letters of the blaring advertisement of special television channels. I was surprised to see that Esme hadn't come along with Carlisle. In fact, I had been expecting someone to come with him, but he was alone.

The door closed behind us and I sat down on the bed. Edward sat beside me, still holding fast to my hand, and Carlisle took the only armchair in the room, pulling it closer to the bed.

"Alice told me that your hand was almost severed off," he said conversationally.

I nodded. "Yeah, it was."

"May I see it?" he asked and I extended my hand. He took it between his cold fingers, inspecting the wound. An ugly, white scar ran thick around the diameter of my wrist. The scar was paler than the rest of my skin and a few degrees colder, resembling the five bites in the shape of crescent moons on the rest of my body. Carlisle was careful in his prodding of the wound, in his gentle examination of my almost amputation.

After a few minutes of inspecting my hand with the precision of a most skilled doctor, he released my hand. "It looks like it healed properly. It might be more receptive to the sense of touch, but other than that, it should be fine."

I nodded my head in understanding and I returned my hand to my lap. Edward squeezed the hand he held within his own.

Carlisle turned his amber gaze to Edward. "Tell me everything that happened starting from the beginning."

Edward cleared his throat, let go of my hand, and began to pace around the room as he told the story. I thought that he would skip some of the unimportant details, but he told Carlisle everything, just like he had requested. I watched with rapt attention as Edward spoke; he put it in such poetic terms that I couldn't pretend that I wasn't interested in what he had to say, even if I had lived the event.

By the time he got to the attack, he was wringing his hands frantically, pushing them through his thick hair and gesturing wildly with them. It seemed that Edward's attacker had been much better trained in the arts of combat than the one that had fought me. Unbuttoning the cuffs of his dirtied black button up, he rolled back the sleeve and showed Carlisle the crescent shaped scars that ran up the length of his arm to his elbow at various intervals.

My eyes widened at the sight of them and I leapt off the bed, rushing over to him and taking a hold of his arm. "Edward!" I cried. "You didn't tell me that he bite you!"

Edward pulled his arm out of my grasp and rolled his sleeve back down. "It's nothing."

I glared at him, my eyes stony. He returned my stare, his eyes vacant and blank. I wasn't like what was happening before my very eyes. This was the exact thing that I had been trying to avoid. I dropped my hands to my side and returned back to my position on the bed; I could feel Carlisle's eyes on me.

"So," Carlisle began. "After you…decapitated them, did you burn their remains and scatter the ashes?"

"No," Edward answered, his jaw locking into place and his eyes flashing with self disappointment; his nostrils flared slightly as he exhaled deeply. "There wasn't time to do that. I would've, but I was afraid that there was more of them watching and I wanted to get Bella out of there as soon as possible."

"Did you see any others?"

"No, if there were any, they were not in plain sight." Edward sat down on the bed next to me, a good ten inches of space between us, and rested his elbows on his knees, burying his hands in his hair. "I'm not sure if they were defending their territory or if…" he trailed off.

"If what, Edward?" Carlisle pressed gently.

I was suddenly glad that Carlisle had come alone, that he hadn't brought Jasper like I thought he would've; aside from Carlisle, it seemed that Jasper was the only one that could talk some sense into Edward. However, it was easy to see that Carlisle was obviously the best one for the job, even if Jasper could manipulate the emotions of a room. Carlisle was the one who could get Edward to talk without having to use any sort of special power.

Edward picked his head up and I saw, for the first time, a glimmer of fear in his onyx orbs. "If they were sent by Victoria or worse."

With a lump in my throat, I asked, "Who or what could be worse than Victoria?" A shiver ran down my spine as I spoke the name. I reached out and grabbed Edward's hand for comfort, lacing my fingers through his.

His hand was limp in mine. "It could be the Volturi, for one, but I highly doubt that they would send anyone to eliminate us. After all, we have met their demands in changing you and they would have known by now that you were a vampire. Unless someone from the Volturi guard is rebelling against the rest of the Volturi, but again, I highly doubt that's a possibility."

"Who else could it have been then?" I regretted the question as soon as it left my mouth.

"It could be the werewolves," Edward answered, his eyes going hard, his tone of voice cold and distant.

It had been the exact response that I hadn't wanted to hear. The werewolves had chased us around for nearly four months, running us all around the country to try to escape them. I thought that they would have been over the broken treaty. I had thought that they had come to realize that my life had been saved when Edward delivered the fatal kiss, that they would be happy that I was still a part of this world.

But I had been wrong and naïve for thinking so. I knew deep within my heart that I didn't believe what my head was telling me, what my head was trying to convince me. I knew for a fact that I hadn't fully believed the words my head had repeated time after time. It was stupid of me to try to convince myself that the werewolves to relinquish their vendetta against us.

"But how would they have known we were coming?" I asked. "You said it yourself in the car, someone knew that we were planning on coming to Forks and planned the attack. Besides, why would a pair of newborn vampires be working for the likes of werewolves. We both know its impossible for vampires and werewolves to coexist in peace; we've seen enough of that in the past."

Edward had sprung up from his position on the bed beside me before I had the time to register what was going on. He had picked up a lamp and thrown it against the wall before Carlisle or I could stop him. His chest was heaving as realization struck him. He sat back down on the edge of the mattress, leaned over his legs, and buried his hands in his hair again, drawing deep and steady breaths.

I exchanged a glance with Carlisle and he nodded his head, rising to his feet fluidly. He laid a hand on Edward's shoulder, gave it a brief squeeze and left the room. The lock in the door clicked shut behind him as he went.

"It's just so frustrating not knowing what's going on," Edward murmured, his voice thick with emotional constraint. "I hate it." His voice had dropped down to a barely audible whisper at this point.

I scooted closer to him and wrapped my arms around him the best I could in his hunched over position. I rested my cheek against the top of his head of dark auburn locks and held him close to my body. It was the first instinct that had come to mind and, somehow, it seemed right.

He didn't respond to my touch and I hadn't expected him to. His chest continued to heave as he drew deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. I could feel the muscles in his upper arms stretch and pull as he clenched and unclenched his fist. Edward didn't speak and neither did I.

I wasn't accustomed to assuming the role of supporter, not when it came to Edward and I. I was used to being the supported one. I wasn't used to being the stronger of us; I was used to being the weaker one. I was the one who always needed to be held in hopes of getting myself under control, not Edward. I knew that everyone had a breaking point, that everyone's exterior mask faltered at one point in time, but I guess I hadn't been expecting it from Edward. I wasn't used to seeing him so vulnerable, so completely…helpless.

I found myself wishing that I knew what to do. The only person I was used to supporting was my mother, Renee. She had always needed guidance and sometimes, after she got dumped by a boyfriend, I would have to hold her while she cried. I never had a chance to play the heartbroken daughter in her presence; I had played the role of a zombie-esque daughter, but that's as far as it went. But when it came to Edward, I didn't know how to handle the situation. Besides, it wasn't like chocolate would mend the situation.

When he sat up, my arms slipped from his lanky body. He pushed a hand through his hair once more, disheveling it before he released a hefty sigh.

Neither of us said anything as he rose from the bed, stretched his arms over his head, and walked toward the bathroom, where I assumed he was planning on taking a shower. We were, after all, completely filthy. My hair was matted down with dust and dirt, mud was smeared all over my alabaster skin and clothes. Edward's shirt was torn as were his black slacks. He, too, was covered with dried dirt and clumps of mud, but unlike me, he still managed to look inhumanly attractive. I shook my head to myself, a small threatening to upturn my lips as I rose from the bed and followed him into the bathroom, locking the door behind us.

X - X - X

Carlisle came back to the hotel room three hours later. The dark circles under his eyes looked considerably lighter, as did the shade of his eyes; he had gone hunting. He smiled tightly at me as he took his seat in the singular armchair in the room, where he had been sitting in the first place.

"Where's Edward?" he asked.

"He's outside talking to Alice, I think."

I saw his eyes scan the room and stop at the wastebasket. The remains of the broken lamp were stuffed into the trash can haphazardously. He didn't say anything, however, just leaned back in the chair. The silence that hung in the room was not uncomfortable, it was quite the contrary actually.

A few minutes later, the door swung open and Edward walked into the room, slipping his cell phone into his pocket.

"So?"

I said nothing, but turned my eyes to Edward. He smiled forcefully at me as he took a measured breath.

"Jasper and Emmett are going to go back to Forks-,"

"No!" I interjected immediately, shaking my head firmly. "They can't go down there! It's too dangerous! What if something happened to them?"

"Bella," Edward said, his voice gentle and musical in my ears. He took me by my shoulders and steered me back toward the bed; I hadn't even noticed that I'd stood up.

"There's no need to worry," Carlisle soothed. "Emmett and Jasper are more than capable of getting a thorough job done and coming out unscathed. They know what they're doing."

I knew I should've felt comforted by his words, but I wasn't. Just knowing that they were in Forks, that they were willingly putting themselves in the path of danger, made me nervous. If something happened to either of them…

"They're going down to Forks to see if they can pick up any unfamiliar scents," Edward continued, as though I hadn't interrupted. "I told them to start with the cemetery first and go from there. If they get any leads, they're supposed to call me. And Alice'll know if something is going to happen to them."

"Unless the wolves are involved," I muttered under my breath bitterly. As much as I was trying to prevent myself from pinning the blame on Jacob, I felt a stab of revulsion ripple through my body before I could stop it.

Edward sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose as he nodded. "Unless the werewolves are involved," he repeated, a note of dread in his tone.

I turned my eyes back to Carlisle. "Do you think the werewolves are involved?" Everyone seemed to value Carlisle's opinions and I found myself amongst that particular group of people.

"There's a distinct possibility that they are," he said, a worried expression momentarily flashed across his face before he regained his composure. Never the weak one, Carlisle. "Or this may be the workings of Victoria."

We were back to square one, the exact same place we had been when we had come to this hotel in the first place. I tried not to feel bitter, but I couldn't help it. I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the headboard.

"Rosalie, Esme, and Alice are packing things up as we speak and have arranged for movers to pick up all the furniture and move it to our storage lockers in Montreal," Edward said suddenly, breaking the awkward silence that had settled over the room. "You know, just in case it escalades to that level again."

Something in the pit of my stomach told me that things were going to be worse than they were last time. I moved my arms so they were resting over my stomach and sighed heavily, stirring the strands of damp locks that hung in my face. I didn't want to close my eyes, for I feared the images that might appear behind my eyelids. A shiver crept down my spine.

Suddenly, Carlisle rose from his position on the armchair.

"Where are you going, Carlisle?" Edward asked out loud.

I knew the only reason why they weren't having a mental conversation, at least on Edward's part, was because I was in the room. Ever since they had told me about Charlie's death, every time it was just the three of us in a room, they communicated verbally. The odd thing was that, even though Carlisle couldn't read minds, whenever he and Edward exchanged in silent conversation, one could swear that he could. It was one of the oddest, yet interesting things I had ever witnessed.

"I need to make a call," he said, smiling gently at me. "It might save us some time." His eyes locked with mine. And get us some help.

I nearly jumped at the sound of Carlisle's smooth, soothing voice in my head. My eyes must've bugged out of my skull because the line of Carlisle's brow pinched together and he stared at me like I had spoken in a foreign, long forgotten tongue.

"What is it, Bella?" Carlisle questioned in concern.

I shook my head hurriedly. "It's nothing. I-I just thought I saw a spider on the wall." I offered a weak, pathetic smile. He stared at me for another pregnant moment before nodding his head, a look of subtle disbelief in his ocher eyes.

The door clicked close behind him and I rolled my eyes; I knew that was going to come back and bite me in the ass sooner or later.