Chapter 7- A vampire's real diet is humans.
It's morning when we reach the house. Edward is no worse for wear beyond a little dust, but I'm a disaster and as he goes into the living room I head around the back to the laundry room. I've found it and stripped my shirt off when Esme comes in and takes the bundle of cloth from my hands.
"I can do that for you."
"You don't have to do my laundry," I say awkwardly. "I messed it up…I don't know if it'll clean up but I'll try."
Esme begins filling the sink with water. "We'll soak it and see. I'm quite good with bloodstains you know! And I don't mind doing it at all. I don't expect you did the laundry at home."
I scratch my hair, which is matted with blood. "I did all the laundry for everyone for about six months last year," I say diffidently. "My Ma…there was going to be another baby and she had to go to bed. Hannah and Maggie did most of the house stuff, but the laundry was too heavy for them and someone had to do it. So I learned how. I'm pretty good with a mop too."
Esme laughs at me. "I'll be sure to remember that Emmett. Your mother recovered though?"
"Yes ma'am…Esme," I say. "She lost the baby in the end, but she was fine after a bit."
"Oh, I am sorry," she says, and she does look sorry. She frowns as she looks down at my knees coming through the pants and the blood spatter on them too. "Give me your pants too, and I'll soak those as well," she says. "I can patch them…if that's okay. I mean, we don't usually do that, and of course we can go out and get new ones if you prefer, but perhaps…well perhaps while you're getting used to things we could patch them and keep them for hunting? Only if you don't mind, as I said I'm happy to buy new, you mustn't worry about the money…"
I can't help but laugh at how anxious she is not to offend me with her suggestion that I wear patched trousers. "Esme, I was fourth in line for clothes in my family," I say earnestly. "I've worn clothes that were more patches than pants…I don't mind, really! It's a good idea."
"Okay then, off with them and give them to me," she orders, and I sit down on an upturned bucket and start unlacing my boots.
"I lost a child too," Esme says after a moment, as she stands and stares out the small window.
I glance up at her. "I'm sorry."
She smiles. "He lived for two days, the sweet little thing. I was heartbroken when he died. My husband was not a good man, and after my little wee boy died I thought I didn't have anything to live for. So I tried to kill myself by jumping off a cliff."
"I'm sorry," I say again, which doesn't seem like quite the right thing, but I haven't had anyone tell me they've tried to commit suicide before and I don't know what else to say.
"Carlisle changed me after that. I'd met him, years before, but lost touch with him and was quite surprised to see him when I awoke from the burning!"
I pull off my boots and awkwardly wriggle out of my trousers, handing them over. I can't even offer to fix them myself- I might have done the laundry and some housework to help my Ma when I wasn't working, but I drew the line at sewing.
"Thank you. So you see, I rather like taking care of all them," Esme goes on. "I didn't get to mother my own little son for very long, so all my maternal instincts are being spent on Edward and Rosalie! It would mean a great deal to me if you'll allow me to take care of you as part of the family too." When I nod she gives me a big smile, and then points to a tiled shower recess. "Now, I think it would be best if you just showered in here and cleaned up a little before coming into the house, if you don't mind."
Before I can do anything, there's a noise in the hall and then Rosalie comes through the door, holding a catalogue in her hand. "Esme, there you are! I've marked what I want…" She comes to an abrupt stop when she sees me. "Oh! I didn't know you were in here!"
Damn it. Why do I always look such a fool around this girl? She's all dressed up like she's ready for church and I'm sitting on an upturned bucket in nothing but a pair of socks and my drawers, with more blood on me than if I've been out in the slaughterhouse. Very smooth, Emmett!
Rosalie's lips twitch, and then for a moment there's a smile, and I give her a wink and don't care what I'm wearing, or not wearing as the case may be.
"Oh, Rose," Esme says. "I was just sorting out Emmett's laundry. I'll come and have a look with you now. Emmett, there are towels in the press, help yourself." She heads for the door, pushing Rosalie out ahead of her, leaving me to shower alone and hope desperately that Edward's not listening in on my thoughts as I do!
We all go out later that afternoon, to test my resistance to the scent of humans and I feel ridiculous having the four of them with me as some kind of guard. They've told me they'll stop me by force if they have to though, and after seeing a demonstration of my strength in the yard earlier neither Carlisle nor Edward are confident that they can do it without extra help.
"Vampires are always strongest in their first year or so after the change," Carlisle tells me. "You won't always be quite this strong, but even for a newborn you've got more power than anything I've seen. It will be interesting to see how you end up."
We move through the forest. The Cullens' house is very isolated, but they tell me there is farmland to the north and it will be better to test my resistance on an individual or small family basis rather than deal with a town. I go along with it, since they've done this before and I've got no idea and nothing else better to do.
It's hard to concentrate though, out in the forest. The sensory input is still so overwhelming that it's hard to stay on one thing. I find myself distracted by my own skin, by the reflection of light off leaves, by a spider web swaying in the breeze. At one point I stop, transfixed by a bustling ant hill, and don't even move until I hear a shout and see that they're all a hundred yards further on and waiting for me.
Then there's Rosalie. She comes too, a little reluctantly I think, and I'm surprised at how at home she looks out here in the forest as she walks lightly along. She's barefoot and her hair is in a braid and she looks young and pretty. I walk next to her, wishing I could reach out and take her hand the way Carlisle is clasping Esme's just ahead of me.
"We're getting close," Carlisle says, dropping Esme's hand and walking backwards so he can look at me. "Just be ready Emmett."
I shrug, wondering how I can get ready for something when I don't know what it will be like, and half disbelieving that it will be as difficult as they say it is. And of all the foolishly arrogant thoughts, that's what is in my mind when the first scent of it drifts by on the breeze and I nearly come undone.
There aren't even words. The scent disappears as quickly as it came, but I know where it came from and I'm moving in that direction, fast and purposeful.
"Emmett, steady on," Carlisle says anxiously, but I don't listen. The smell comes again, and my mouth is flooded with venom and I can't think of anything except how much I want it.
Edward places a hand on my arm but I only want one thing now and I hit back at him, hearing his muffled curse words and then the slightly panicked tones of Esme. Carlisle shouts at me to stop, but none of it reaches me until she speaks. Rosalie. All she says is my name, but it's enough.
I don't stop, but I slow down and a moment later she's beside me. She reaches out a hand but doesn't touch me, and when our eyes meet she says my name again, softly, and this time I do stop.
"Rosalie, be careful," Carlisle says quickly.
"It's fine," she says to him calmly. She's still not touching me, but she's looking into my eyes and her gaze is keeping me with her, even as the rest of my body is twitching and rocking from foot to foot, desperate with want. "It's fine, right Emmett?"
"I want it," I say hoarsely. "I can smell it…sweet Jesus, I want it." The wind picks up and the scent intensifies and I rake my hands through my hair and squeeze my skull and moan. "I can't…fuck, fuck, fuck…" I know I'm swearing like a sailor even though the ladies are right there, but I can't help it. In fact, as the scent swirls around me and I stumble down on to my knees, I think I'd swear in front of God himself if he expected me to go through this torment.
I'm on my knees, whimpering like a baby, thinking that I can't do this and I'm just going to have to go after that blood and to hell with it all, when Rosalie drops down beside me and leans her head close. Her hair swings forward, and for a moment all I can smell is her and my head clears.
I catch her eyes, desperately ashamed of how little control I have. "I can't," I mutter. "I can't…I want it too much."
"You can," she says, and it's the bossy angel back again and I laugh kind of hysterically. "You're doing it now, Emmett. Feel the thirst…it's burning, I know that, but you're fine. You're here, you're resisting."
She's right, and I grip her hand for a moment and try and steady my breathing. I can do this.
"That's good Emmett," Carlisle says encouragingly. I notice that he and Esme and Edward are standing behind Rosalie, between me and the source of that blood that I'm still so incredibly thirsty for. "You're doing fine."
I shut my eyes and try to breathe it in and breathe through it. It's probably about the hardest thing I've ever done, but I focus on the touch of Rosalie's hands and a few moments later I get unsteadily to my feet. "I'm good."
We move closer until we're on the edge of the forest, and across a small field I can see two men working on a fence. The burn of the thirst is acute, and Carlisle and Esme and Edward are bunched close ready to grab me, but it's Rosalie's hand in mine that is keeping me here.
I can't handle it very long. I become aware that I'm rocking up on my toes and every exhalation of breath is coming out in a moan, and I yank my hand out of Rosalie's and turn away. "Fuck this…I'm done."
I run on the way back. I want to get away from it, far away from that temptation. It's worse than I thought it would be, and any confidence I had that I'm going to be able to do this is shattered. I get back to the house and sit on the step, waiting for the others, dreading what I'll see in their faces.
To my surprise, no one seems in the least bit upset with me. In fact they're smiling as they come up and sit beside me.
"That was fine, Emmett," Carlisle says. "It's difficult, we know, but for a first time you did fine." I look up at him, but his eyes are clear and honest and he nods at me. "Really…you should be happy with that."
I frown. "But I wanted it so much. If you hadn't been there…"
"It gets easier," Esme says comfortingly. "Truly, it does. You'll know what to expect next time and you'll be more prepared for it, which makes a big difference."
Edward grins at me. "You didn't kill them," he points out. "And any contact that results in humans being left alive has to be counted as a success at this point."
I shrug, a little bewildered. I was whining like a baby out there, and they all thought it was fine? My brothers would have mocked me from here to kingdom come for being such a little bitch about anything. I sigh and lean against the porch railing, not saying anything else as Carlisle and Esme and Edward go inside.
Rosalie perches on the other end of the step. She doesn't look at me, instead she wraps her arms around her knees and looks out into the forest, but we sit together in silence for a time and after a while I start to feel better, just because she's there.
"Thank you for stopping me out there," I say quietly.
She shakes her head. "You did it yourself. I couldn't have stopped you if you'd really made up your mind to go after it."
I wish she'd keep talking. Her voice is as smooth as caramel and as clear as bells. I'm suddenly so tired, not physically but emotionally, that I wish I could just lay my head down in her lap and listen to her talk until I fall asleep and could forget about all this.
"Do you ever wish you could sleep?" I say plaintively.
She looks at me, and for just a second that controlled and aloof mask she always wears cracks and she looks impossibly sad. "Every single day," she says in a voice so quiet I can barely even hear her. "I wish for it every single day." And rising to her feet she walks back into the house, but as she passes by I would swear I feel her fingers brushing across my hair.
Alone on the step I think about what they've all said, and wonder how long I'm going to be able to hold out against that temptation.
