Sorry, I've been buried under vast quantities of Neil Gaiman and Sherlock Holmes books, and have only recently been able to pull myself out. And, good news, I have another story idea which I have been working on!

Two people have brought up that in chapter seven I said that vampire had three syllables. Now, I have been racking my brain for a way to try and pronounce it with only two, but cannot. I apologize if I confused any of you, but where I'm from, we say it like vam-pie-er. Blame my accent.

Disclaimer: Clap your hands if you don't own Twilight or Phantom of the Opera. And if you strain your ears and listen real hard, you can hear a very reluctant pair of hands going clap clap. Yea, that's me.

Unfortunate Discoveries

Paris, 1870

Edward had been watching Jacob for the past two and a half hours.

Shortly after the masquerade guests had been hurriedly shoved out the front door, wondering if Forks could ever go a night without some sort of catastrophe, though wanting to stay and find out, the vicomte came back on foot, in normal clothing for he did not wish to attract suspicion, and snuck into the opera house. Since he knew where Bella's room was, it was easy to find it in the often times confusing maze of hallways. Because of the late, or somewhat early, hour, Jacob decided to pull up a chair and wait outside her door, determined that he speak to her as soon as she got up.

Edward had been checking on Bella, which he found himself doing more and more these days, when he heard the vicomte's thoughts. Though they were mainly dominated by regretful and repentant ways of apologizing to Bella, there seemed to be a strange undertone that Edward didn't trust. It was like he had a split personality with each side wrestling back and forth for control. One was the sad but hopeful optimist that Jacob had been his whole life, but the other…

Being in the vicomte's mind while the latter had supremacy was like lying in a pit of writhing snakes knowing that any second one of their poisonous fangs will sink into your skin. It was possessive and cruel, thinking of Bella as a prize to be won from the unworthy hands of another. And to Edward's growing fear, it was desperate.

Desperation can make people do crazy things. They see no other possible way of overcoming a situation and often resort to dangerous and ruthless ways of achieving what they want. Edward had seen many desperate people barrel through ravaged lives and turn everything they touch to ash, not caring who became twisted and caught in their way. Edward felt uneasy when dealing with people of this persuasion, and with Jacob, he saw it as unavoidable. He couldn't do anything about it, but he could keep a wary eye and prepare for the worst.

Jacob, though unaware of the man scrutinizing his every action, knew that something was wrong with him. Thoughts that sounded entirely unlike his own came to him unbidden. He felt half terrorized and half empowered. This thing that inhabited his brain was confidant and sure and so terribly convincing in its ways. He knew that it was wrong, but if he clung to it and followed what it said, he believed that he wouldn't have to deliberate and worry over a decision. He would be free of his self pitying and sullen thoughts. The thing would take over and actually do something about the mess he was in. Jacob found comfort in this pressuring voice.

As the night dragged on and the vicomte's head dropped lower and lower, his concentration dwindling, he slowly fell deeper and deeper into sleep, glad of the peace from his warring mind.

When Edward was positive that the vicomte was fast asleep, he stepped out of the shadows where he had been hiding and quietly entered Bella's room. He found her tangled up in her sheets and mumbling unintelligible things. He paused a moment and stood admiring his love. She looked almost too beautiful, like such exquisite features should only belong in the halls of heaven.

Snapping himself out of his reverie, Edward leaned down and gently placed his hand on the side of Bella's face, sure that she would wake up from the shock of cold skin. But she didn't. She only snuggled her head closer into his palm, seeming to savor the iciness. Somewhat puzzled, he whispered, "Bella? Bella, it's time to get up. We need to leave."

She slowly opened her eyes and, when she saw through the window that the sun was only just starting to rise, promptly closed them again. "No," mumbled her half wakeful voice. "I'll get up when it's actually daytime. Bella has to sleep…" the last part was somewhat slurred by a yawn that looked as though it was tearing her face in two. There was a pause for several moments until Bella opened one of her eyes again to glare at Edward. "I can't sleep when you're watching like that."

Edward chuckled and lowered himself to his knees, right beside her bed. "Watching you how? Can't a man appreciate the stunning perfection that is his fiancée?" He leaned in closer and placed a kiss on her lips, enjoying the way her heart sped up.

"Edward," Bella groaned when he pulled away, "you are much too charming for your own good. I can't even think of something that can make me angry with you now." She paused a moment in thought, then added, "You said we were leaving. Where?"

"It's a secret," he grinned. "Now, hurry, I want to be there by the time it's fully light out. Just be quiet, it seems as though your admirer," Edward couldn't hold back the grimace and distaste that snuck through at the word, "has fallen asleep outside your door while waiting to apologize to you."

"Jacob?" Bella gasped. "Oh, I don't want to talk to him now. Maybe later, but not now." She seemed so suddenly distressed that Edward decided not to press her on the issue.

"Of course," he soothed. "I'll be in the hallway while you change." He exited without noise and closed the door firmly behind him, turning to face the quiescent vicomte. Edward felt an unwelcome pity wash over him for Jacob. He had mocked, embarrassed and stolen the girl of his dreams from the clueless boy, and now he felt guilty about it all.

In a flash, Edward was gone and back, placing the vicomte's sword that he had taken at the masquerade in his lap. It wasn't much, completely miniscule in comparison to what he had already done, but Edward saw it as a peace offering; a small gesture of contriteness.

He would come to regret it.

000

When the sunlight touched Jacob's closed eyelids, he awakened with a start. Bella! was the first thing his mind screamed, and he swiftly was on his feet, stumbling to her door. He stopped as suddenly as he began when he felt something drop from his lap and heard the sound of a metal object colliding with the wood floor. Pivoting on his heels he turned and saw the ornate decorations of his sword, which lay glittering in the morning sun.

Jacob could distinctly remember the cold and taunting face of the phantom at the masquerade, then the defeat that overcame him as he made contact with nothing but air and a fluttering, crimson cape. That scoundrel had jeered and heckled toward him for the last time! He thought he could insult a vicomte, but Jacob would bear it no longer! He would use this sword to make that Opera Ghost a true ghost indeed! Revenge would be his and so would Bella!

Fired by the thought of retribution, he stomped meaningfully to Bella's room, giving the door a fierce and sharp knock. After four moments of unwilling waiting, he opened the door to find her…gone…again.

That slimy and conniving man had taken her away once more! Jacob ran out of her room and sprinted to the stables, the awful but supremely welcoming part of him had taken over and it had an intuition that seemed unstoppable and never failing. The vicomte threw himself completely to the guessing and speculating thing inside his mind, glad that he would no longer have to think about Bella in the arms of another.

He asked a stable boy where the singer Isabella Swan had gone to, and if she were with anyone. The kid had only responded by saying that she had been with a very tall gentleman, and, though he couldn't see his face because of the high collar on his cape, he could have sworn the man had been wearing a white mask. Then the boy had lifted his bony arm and pointed west, where the city gave way to the wilderness, saying that they had rented a carriage and started off in that direction. Jacob jumped on the first horse he could find, ignoring the indignant cries of the stable boy, and followed headed toward his Bella.

And his insanity grew just a little more, fueled by the anger and hurt Jacob was feeling.

000

Bella marveled at the wonder before her. Edward, who was sitting up in the front of the carriage with the horses' reins in his hands, was miraculously sparkling so brilliantly that it rivaled even the pristine diamonds on Bella's ring wherever the sunlight that filtered through the surrounding trees hit his pale skin. He had told her about it weeks ago, but it hadn't exactly set in until now. Bella supposed that seeing really is believing.

"You know," Edward laughed musically while casting Bella a sly grin, "it would be prudent to close your mouth before an unfortunate insect wanders in."

Automatically, her mouth closed with an audible click and she blushed furiously. Even after knowing him for this long, she still was not used to the other-worldliness that was exuded in his every movement and action. Most times, like now for instance, she was only able to stare and gape much too obviously. "Can you," she changed the subject to hide her outrageous embarrassment, "tell me where you're taking me now?"

Edward only laughed and shook his head in response. She gave an impatient huff, mostly for his benefit, and settled back down in her seat, admiring the rainbows that bounced and shimmered off of Edward's exposed skin.

They continued down the dirt trail in the blossoming spring parks, the path becoming rockier and less traveled as they went along. Eventually, the wilderness thickened and the carriage was gliding on in only the dense, dew covered grass. Bella had never seen so much foliage and the never ending rows of trees and plants made her head whirl with its unfamiliarity. She had expected to hear birds and see animals, but none ever came. The seemingly empty woods echoed silently with only the sound of the horses' hoofs hitting the ground. Bella wondered distantly if this had something to do with Edward's presence, but she immediately dismissed it. How could they possibly know?

"There," said Edward, pointing a long finger ahead of them. "You may not see it now, Bella, but our destination is dead ahead."

Bella strained her eyes, but saw nothing. The carriage lurched as Edward goaded the horses to quicken their pace, and, after several minutes, Bella could see a blurred grey shape in the distance. It slowly came into focus and she saw that it was a stone wall. It grew in height and width as they approached, making an enormous kind of fence, for as time passed, Bella could see a corner and an elaborate black gate.

Bella's interest was so piqued she felt that she might implode if she didn't see what lay behind it. When the carriage came to a stop a yard away from the massive walls, Bella jumped out of it and jogged to the large onyx gate. Edward, who was only a step behind her, chuckled and made a comment that Bella didn't quite hear. Seeing her impatient smile, he took a key from his vest and turned it in the rusty keyhole. As the gate swung open and Bella saw what was beyond it, she gasped.

There were roses. Hundreds and hundreds of roses. They climbed against the stone walls, wound their way around the baroque legs of the marble benches, stood tall and proud in bushes of unimaginable size. There were porcelain whites, soft pinks, yellows and oranges as bright as the sun, delicate lavenders, purples so dark they looked black, and the crimson roses that made Bella's heart speed up. She turned to Edward and, in a voice so subdued in her amazement, whispered, "Where did you find this place?"

Edward guided her over to one of the spacious benches, this one surrounded by red roses, and answered, "It's been here for ages. Many years ago, there used to be a wealthy family that owned a vacation home in a clearing close by, but due to a fire, all their property burned to the ground. This was only saved because of its distance from the manor house. I found it while hunting some time ago and like to come here to think." He reached over to a rose bush beside them and plucked one of the scarlet roses from it, carefully and deftly removing the thorns then handing it to Bella. "It's also where I get the flowers I send you."

She took the rose and looked at it in something like awe. "I had always wondered where one could lay their hands on something as impeccable and without flaw as the roses you send me. I suppose I know now." Setting the flower down on the bench, she held his hand in her own and studied it closely, tracing her finger along it as if trying to find a seam or loose thread that would show that it was all just a clever trick. An unexpected disappointment clouded over her pretty features before she said, as if she were admitting a great failing, "It is all too perfect, Edward; the rose, this place, you. I can't help but feel unworthy. You can have anyone you want, but you chose me." She looked into his topaz eyes in utter seriousness. "Why?"

He held her face in his hands and met her gaze. "I love you because every time I look at you, I feel as though my heart is beating once more. You're the inspiration and muse I have been searching for as long as I can remember and you give me hope for a future I have dreaded and feared my whole existence." He stood up from his seat on the bench and turned his back to her, facing the roses, before continuing, "Since we are both of the impression that we are not good enough for the other, we must remind ourselves that either would be completely miserable and most likely catatonic without the other." Edward turned back around and pulled her to her feet by the hand, winding his arms around her waist. Studying her seraphim features, he whispered, "And, really Bella, how could you not think you are as beautiful, if not ten times as much like I think you are, as the roses around us? I do believe that your insecurities are clouding your judgment."

Seeing the utter sincerity in his golden eyes, Bella found her mind agreeing with him; that she was pretty, that she was actually wanted, not for only a moment, but forever. His need for her was finally portrayed to Bella as the same as her need for him.

She smiled and nodded her head, making his beaming face turn wonderfully adorable with his open admiration for her. They shared a moment of understanding then, forming a promise that required no sound, but made both of their hearts soar with what it entailed; they would be together no matter what, letting nothing separate them.

Unfortunately though, by the sound of an approaching horse, something – or someone – was coming to do just that. Above, the clouds covered the sun, as if they were shielding it from the scene that was about to play out beneath them.

000

Jacob had been following the deep ruts of the carriage on the soft spring ground. Here and there he would become confused when there was an abrupt turn through the thickening foliage, but he remained determined. His legs and back ached because he hadn't even bothered to steal a horse with a saddle, but he would obtain what was his.

On seeing the high, stone wall, he dug his heels unmercifully into the horse's ribs, making it go from a gallop into an outright sprint. As soon as they reached it, he jumped off its back and pushed open the large gate, his heart pounding so loudly he thought he would go deaf with the sound of it.

The sight the greeted him made his purposeful stride slow to a halt. In the heaven and splendor of roses, Bella was being held by the man Jacob was sure he hated with every fiber of his body.

This jarred the madness from the vicomte and once more brought him to the painfully feeling sanity he was now furiously wishing away. His body seemed too gangly and uncertain, his heart too heavy to bear. He only stood in the gaping entrance of the garden, that deceiving and treacherous organ in his chest breaking all over again.

The phantom, who had protectively stood in front of Bella when he entered, as if the vicomte were a dangerous plague, uttered a short, hard "Leave." Jacob was only too tempted to run with his tail in between his legs, but he wanted – no needed – to speak to Bella.

The lady in question had gently put her hand on the ghost's arm and appeared to say several calming words into his ear, for he relaxed his aggressive stance and stepped back. He still had his eyes trained coldly on Jacob's every move, and he seemed to have shifted his weight forward like he was ready to take action at any given moment, but he had still listened to her.

Looking as if she were regretting every step she took, Bella approached her childhood friend. She had tried to compose her face to one of careful indifference, but Jacob saw the fear in her eyes. Fear of him. A deep sorrow wound its way in his chest and he found himself babbling out an apology before his mind caught up with his mouth.

"Jacob," Bella interrupted, "I'm going to marry Edward," she didn't notice the grimace, "and if we are to be friends," or the wince, "you need to accept that," or the clenched and angry jaw. "He's a good man; kind and sweet and he loves me." She continued on, trying to erase the disbelieving expression on her long ago friend's face, trying to make his see that she was truly happy. "Edward's been perfect to me. He even wrote me a lullaby! He made me a beautiful music box, Jacob, and it plays such a lovely song; so sad and hopeful it would make your heart break to hear it. And…"

As she was speaking, Edward was slowly and inconspicuously edging his way to her side. Bella may not have seen, but the vicomte de Black was growing more and more livid. His russet skin was flushed, his hands were shaking, and his mind was reeling. No! it screamed desperately. No! She cannot, will not, be with him! He's a trickster, a liar, a murderer. She's mine, she's mine, she's MINE!

Jacob moved to hit her, slap her, push her down, anything, to make her stop speaking such nonsense. The vicious carelessness seized him and he lunged forward to make her come to her senses. But as he aimed for her soft and easily damaged skin, he was lifted into the air and brought to the furious and snarling eye level of the phantom.

"You," he growled and seethed, "will never touch her again." Jacob felt a brief moment of weightlessness before he made rough contact with the ground. Framed by the thinning clouds above, the ghost looked more like a rebel angel than a spirit. He stood over the vicomte and shoved one foot painfully onto Jacob's chest, bruising several ribs. "You will not look at her, you will not ever be near her again." To prove his point he dug his boot deeper into Jacob at each emphasized word. "The only reason I'm not killing you right now is because it would hurt Bella." His eyes were coal black, Jacob noticed with growing fear. Deadly black. "You may not care for her well being, but I do. If I ever see you again, I will gladly have your blood on my hands."

The phantom removed his foot from the vicomte's chest, gently put his arm around Bella, and started to guide her toward the gate. Edward didn't look at the boy lying on the ground, but Bella cast her pitying and betrayed eyes toward Jacob. How could he have fallen so? her confused mind questioned despairingly, but she didn't have the answer.

Meanwhile, the vicomte had picked himself off the ground, ignoring his sore ribs and bruised ego, and watched the love of his life walk away with a man she wanted to spend eternity with. Incensed by the humiliation, and his utterly useless attempts to stop it, Jacob acted on an instinct without even thinking about it. He ran toward the phantom and drew his sword, meaning to plunge it through the skin he had missed at the masquerade.

It was so sudden, so without warning, that Edward only had time to turn around.

The sharp and strong blade made contact with Edward's chest, right at the heart, but it didn't sink into the soft flesh as Jacob had imagined it would. Instead, the blade was sent flying out of the vicomte's hand by the force of impact, bent slightly at the tip.

As if the heavens were trying to prove a point to Jacob, it was this time, this awful time, that the clouds parted and the spring sun came shining down on the inhabitants of the garden. There was an irruption of light so brilliant that Jacob had to cover his face. When he lowered his arm he saw what Edward really was.

A monster.

Though he looked like an angel as he stood glowing and shining, Jacob knew it. He didn't know exactly what kind of monster this man was, but anyone exhibiting such inhuman behavior had to be one. His mind whirled to try and find logical reasons as to why any of this was happening, but every theory his brain threw out was quickly rebuffed at the nonchalance that both the ghost's and Bella's faces displayed at seeing this supposed to be spectacular phenomenon.

The vicomte bent down and retrieved his sword, seeing the part that should have killed or mangled the phantom was dented. The man's clothing was ripped and torn were the sword's point had met them, but the skin underneath was untouched and pristinely gleaming.

A great fear took hold of Jacob's heart. If the man he had been planning to kill was in fact invincible, and a devil of some sort, then he could never have the revenge he was now centering his life around. He would be forever mourning his lost love and know, deep in his heart, that they are still together, still in love.

When the vicomte raised his eyes to meet those of the beast, he saw that this Edward was amused. The man took several steps in Jacob's direction, who in turn stumbled blindly backwards upon the cobbled pathway. "Oh!" laughed the phantom, throwing out his arms as if displaying something to an unforeseen audience. "How he trembles! Now you can truly look at me as an enemy, can't you vicomte? You wished to merely run your sword through me, but now that you see it is entirely impossible, what will you do now?" In a moment, he was behind Jacob, whispering in his ear, "Surely you can't hurt me! I am too quick," he was now in front of Jacob, "too strong," the ghost had one of the marble benches hoisted above his head with one hand before setting it down again, "too smart for you to even think of getting rid of!"

"Edward, can't we just leave him be?" pleaded Bella from the gate, some desperation clouding her clear voice. "He has been through enough."

"See what angelic saintly hood she has!" continued the cruel yet musical voice. "Even after everything you have done to try and ruin her life, she defends you! She may readily forget, but I know you will be cursed to remember, with perfect clarity, the wrongs you have done. Take a long look at what your festering mind has made you commit, Jacob Black. Before we leave, let me give you some advice: let this all go. Leave Paris and find a new life, one without memories to mar your future. Forget Forks, forget me, and definitely forget her, or else you will have many a sleepless night ahead of you. Trust me in nothing but that."

Then he was gone, pulling Bella through the gate. Jacob could only stand there as he heard the carriage rattle away, pondering over what the man had said.

No, he thought, I will find a way to kill him. I want him to be on his knees, pleading for death, when I am through with him. But I'll need help.

And he knew where to find it.

000

"So-"

"Shh."

"But-"

"Shh."

"Alice-"

"Shh."

Giving up, Jasper stopped pacing and sat in one of the chairs in Alice's room. For the past half hour they had been in complete silence, and the sense of quietly growing dread Alice was radiating had been taking over his mind, making it impossible to even think of anything else. Every time he tried to start a conversation, she would silence him with one of those infuriating "Shh"s and close her eyes just a bit more.

Another quarter of an hour passed before Alice jumped up from where she had been sitting on the carpet with a cry. "Oh, Jasper!" she turned to him with fear in her eyes.

He was holding her in his arms in a flash, rocking her slightly and smoothing her wild hair. "What is it Alice? Are they alright? What happened to the vicomte?"

"For a moment I thought Edward was going to kill him, he almost did, but something changed and I just saw them leaving Jacob in the garden. But now something worse is going to happen. The future I've been fearing… the one with that man… has only become more concrete than before." She looked up at Jasper, her violet eyes shining with tears, "What are we to do?"

"Whatever we can, Alice. Whatever we can." But he didn't know if what they actually could do was going to help much. Jasper tried to take away as much worry as he could, but found that he himself was just as distressed about their future well-being as she was.

They stayed like that for hours as the sun moved across the sky before sinking behind the buildings, comforting each other as best they could.

…And, somewhere, a man with red eyes leaned back in his chair and smiled as he felt the winds of change shift to his direction.