Thanks for all the lovely reviews and to those of you who have added me to Story Alert. I truly appreciate your support!

I don't own Twilight, but I do own (by marriage) an awesome muscle car which I will drive to work on Fridays while my husband is deployed. Tomorrow will be the first of many…Firebird Fridays!

Again, non-Twilight characters that appear in this story are real, historical figures…

I have seen Watchmen way too many times (like more than Twilight), and it inspired a tiny part of this story as evidenced in this chapter.

From Chapter 11…

The image flickered for what seemed like hours, but was probably only seconds. Then, it settled into the young blond man. He stood staring at me menacingly, and then he smiled and took a step toward me.

Chapter 12

I stood frozen for only a few seconds and then the danger in which I found myself registered. The blonde man was taking another step toward me when I turned to flee. In my panicked state, my foot caught on the edge of one of the cobblestones. I caught myself on the low wall before I went all the way down, but I wasn't getting away fast enough. I knew Edward was behind the glass door, but I didn't know if he could help me. Once around the wall, I could see the door, but Edward was longer framed within it. Despair began to claw in my chest.

Suddenly, the door to the spa foyer shattered into a million sparkling pieces, scattering out into the courtyard. The shards of glass rained down around me like diamond snowflakes. I barely registered the slight stinging on my hands and chest where the skin was exposed. Stunned, I almost stopped to stare at the now gaping access to the indoors, but somehow found the strength to keep going.

Edward stood in the doorway, seeming to fill it, to shrink it. His expression was murderous, more livid than I had ever seen it, even with Jacob in the tunnel or when I shunned his advice. His eyes were not fixed on me but on the entity behind me, who I now assumed inhabited Mr. Cullen's body. I didn't dare look behind me to see how far away he was, lest I turn into a pillar of salt, like Lot's wife.

I noticed that Edward made no move to enter the courtyard. I remembered that he would not follow me into the garden and wondered if he could not leave the building. The thought was fleeting because he finally spared a glance for me and motioned for me to hurry. Another step, and I was in his arms. He pulled me toward him, mumbling that there was no time. I stumbled, and he pulled to his side, one arm around me with his hand at the small of my back. We shuffled into the tunnel like that, he supporting me and urging me to move as quickly as possible. I was breathing heavily and realized I was bleeding from tiny cuts on my hands, probably on my face and chest as well. Edward seemed winded too, like he was struggling physically, the same as I was.

"We've got to make it back to your room, lock the door. It's too risky for him to try and harm you there," he wheezed. I noticed that he didn't say I was safe in my room, and that Mr. Cullen couldn't get to me there. I felt chilled and hopeless. Then, I heard footsteps behind us in the tunnel. These were slow and measured, as if there was no hurry at all, not a worry in the world.

"Iiii-zaaaah-beeeeh-laaaah!" a menacing singsong called, echoing ominously toward us down the tunnel. I noticed the dim artificial light that normally illuminated the space seemed to have evaporated. The footsteps stopped, and I chanced a look back, although Edward continued to drag me with purpose. The young blond man stood there with his hands in the pockets of his suit pants, one foot crossed over the other, the picture of ease. He smiled at me and continued his taunt. He was letting us go.

"I'm not done with you yet, lovely…" he sang as a parting shot.

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Edward and I continued our frantic pace up the stairs to the main floor and through the lobby. The area was now deserted, the night owl guests I had seen before having returned to their rooms. I heaved a sigh of relief as the elevator doors closed, and it began its groaning journey to the top floor. Edward and I gazed at each other across the small space, having unconsciously backed ourselves into opposite corners. There was so much to say; I didn't know where to begin.

"I need answers," I said finally. "You've got to talk to me." He dropped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. He remained still for a few seconds but ultimately raised his eyes to mine and nodded infinitesimally.

"Why did you come back?" he asked in a tortured voice. I took this to be a rhetorical question and didn't answer. "I guess it doesn't matter. You're involved now," he muttered to himself. "I'll tell you everything," he addressed me in a resigned tone. Just then, our elevator ride ended, and we were on my floor, just a few short steps from my rooms. Suddenly, I was nervous.

I self-consciously used my key card to open the door, fumbling with it slightly and almost dropping it. I pushed the door open slowly and stepped inside, quickly moving aside so he could enter, too. I made a sweeping motion with my hand.

"So, this is my room," I told him hesitantly, but remembered something almost immediately. "You've been in here before," I said almost accusingly. He grinned a little sheepishly and nodded. His grin made me suspicious.

"How many times have you been in here?" I revised my statement into a question. His expression grew guiltier. "How many times?" I demanded again.

"A few," he answered evasively. "You're peaceful when you sleep, and I promised to watch over you. Protective instincts, remember?" His apologetic response turned defiant at the end, and my face burned in embarrassment, thinking about him watching me.

"You shouldn't spy on people," I admonished but, despite the embarrassment, I was secretly pleased that he seemed to care so much.

"I don't sit and watch you sleep like a stalker," he corrected. "I just pop in and out to make sure you're safe." We were dancing around the weighty issues, and as much as I wanted to continue to flirt like teenagers, I needed him to treat me like an adult.

"I appreciate the sentiment," I told him, "but you need to fill me in on the issues here. I may be able to help you, but I'll need all the facts. For starters, how did you end up like this?" I made a waving motion in front of him to indicate his present state. Even though he seemed solid to me, I knew he wasn't. Alice had told me not to call him a ghost, but I didn't know the right terminology.

The smile from our earlier banter disappeared, and he looked at me seriously. He sighed again and took a seat on one of the chairs facing my unlit fireplace. I sat down in the other chair and waited for him to start.

"You've heard a little bit about Edward Cullen's life?" he began. I nodded solemnly and waited for him to go on. He continued to stare into the fireplace, carefully avoiding my eyes. I sensed this was difficult and suddenly realized that I was the first person to hear this story.

"I came to The Homestead just after my graduation from college. I had had a few lucky breaks during the war and earned some acclaim from that." I sensed modesty in his statement and made a mental note to look up his honors sometime. "I think my dad may have pulled a few strings as well, since he had a fair number of business connections. It was unusual to be given the general manager position of such a prominent resort without any experience." He paused again for a long time, and I wondered if I would have to verbally prompt him to go on. Finally, he turned to face me.

"Things went well. I think I was doing a pretty good job here. Celebrities were staying, and the word of mouth reviews were spreading quickly across the region, especially to Washington. We had a lot of politicians in here. One in particular stayed here several times. His name was Harry Byrd, Jr, and he was a senator from Virginia. He became something of a VIP guest." Edward was holding my gaze now almost desperately, like I was a lifeline.

"On one of his trips, he brought his daughter with him from Richmond." Edward's face grew dark, something akin to what I had seen in his face when he confronted Jacob in the tunnel. "Her name was Victoria." I gasped and my hand flew to my mouth with surprise. Edward's lips were pressed into a tight line, and he returned his gaze to the empty fireplace.

"I was very taken with her. She was beautiful and had been brought up with perfect manners. She seemed to be the epitome of a proper southern young lady. I only spoke to her a handful of times, but she seemed interested. She smiled at all the right moments, and I caught her looking at me several times. I knew I was being rash, but I thought I was in love with her. I asked to speak with her privately, and she agreed." Edward was talking now with his eyes tightly closed, a pained expression on his face. I continued to sit silently, but I really did not like where this story was headed. He went on.

"We met in the library, which I thought was a very romantic room. I complimented her, and she giggled and simpered, which I thought was a good sign. I now know that she was just playing a role. I pulled her into the alcove for more privacy." Edward shook his head ruefully, no doubt remembering the moment.

"She misunderstood my intentions. She was so forward; before I could even comprehend what was happening, her lips were on my neck. I pushed her away, determined to be a gentleman, and she laughed at me. I felt uneasy because there was cruelty in her laughter, something I had not imagined in her. I fumbled for words, quite embarrassed. She quit laughing and just stood there smirking at me, waiting for me to get it together."

"Finally, I told her I thought I was in love with her, dropped to one knee in proper fashion, and asked her to be my wife. I knew her answer before she said a word. Her eyes got very big, and she looked at me incredulously. Then, she started laughing in earnest. If I had thought I heard a touch of cruelty before, this laugh was vicious and callous. She laughed for what seemed like hours." Edward paused with his head in his hands. I got up from my seat and knelt on the floor beside him, running my hand through his hair. It felt silky under my fingers, and I wondered at the fact that I was the only one who could feel it. It was a very intimate gesture, and I questioned how he would take it. He raised his face and gazed at me with agony in his eyes.

"Go on," I encouraged. "I need to hear this, and I think you need to tell it." He nodded, agreeing with me.

"I have never felt like such a fool. I can't remember her exact words because I was so devastated by the laughter," he admitted. "Basically, she told me she would never tie herself to someone like me, that I had no imagination and no ambition. She said she had big plans for herself, and I was definitely not a part of them. She left me in the alcove, still chuckling to herself at my cluelessness as she went. I lied down on the bench there and pondered how I could have made such a grave mistake." Edward sighed, staring into the empty fireplace again over the top of my head. I remained kneeling beside him, leaning against his knees.

"I got up and wandered into the tunnel. I'm not sure where I thought I was going, but I was questioning everything about myself in that moment. I admit that I was somewhat cocky prior to that night, thinking that I could control everything in my life. I kept things in neat little packages. I had been very successful up to that point, excelling in aviation and in school. My stint at The Homestead had started well. My failure at love was a blow. I guess I realize that now. I still don't really understand what happened once I entered the tunnel." Edward looked down at me. I decided to ask a question.

"Why can't you go outside?" I asked. He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm tied to the building, I guess. Like I said, I don't really understand what happened, but I can only exist inside the parts of the building that were present in my time. That's why I tried to stop you from going into the courtyard." He said this reproachfully, and I bowed my head in contrition.

"Have you tried?" I asked and felt immediately stupid for saying it. Of course, he had tried; he had been trapped here for fifty years. I shivered. He smiled like he could hear my internal realization.

"Yes, I've tried," he confirmed. "Sometimes, I almost feel like I could do it. I exist for a moment, but then I blow awake like smoke and find myself back on the inside, usually in the tunnel, since that's where I first became aware of my change." He trailed off, raising his hand to smooth my hair away from my face, gazing into my eyes. "I really wanted to follow you into the courtyard, but I just don't have the power," he said this apologetically.

"Finish telling me about that night," I requested, redirecting the subject. "I can tell there's more. I have questions, but maybe you'll answer them," I prompted him. He gazed at me a few more seconds and smoothed my hair again before resuming his tail.

"I never liked the tunnel," he continued. "I always felt negative energy down there, and there were stories about guests who saw things. One woman had a bad fall in the tunnel and insisted that she saw a man just before it happened. I thought it was the usual scary stories that one hears in old buildings, never gave it much thought. I still can't tell you what made me go down there that night."

"I headed down the passage toward the spa building. It was even a spa in those days, although we actually used the original hot springs at that time," he interjected. I wondered if he was stalling but said nothing.

"My humiliation caught up with me anew and a wave of pain and uncertainty washed over me. I leaned against the tiled wall and closed my eyes. I felt a rush of air and opened my eyes in alarm, only to see a blond man, dressed in turn-of-the-century evening attire standing in front of me. His eyes seemed hungry and wild, like he didn't know where he was or what he was doing. I started to shout for help, but before I could do anything, he placed both of his hands on either side of my face and pulled me toward him like he was going to kiss me or bite me. I think I did shout then, but nothing came out." Edward's voice trailed off, and I stared at him in horror. What a dreadful story! I think I could guess the ending now, but I wondered who the man had been in his life or if he was simply a demon.

"I expected to feel his teeth on me or something, but I felt nothing. It was completely silent and dark. I didn't understand the darkness because I couldn't recall the lights going out in the tunnel." Edward was continuing the tale. "Then, I realized that I was nothing, just floating air. I couldn't see myself or my surroundings. The spirit or ghost or whatever he was, was gone. I was delirious and confused for weeks, just existing as wind, never really aware of my surroundings." Edward grimaced with remembrance. I stroked his arm in what I hoped was a comforting manner. He stopped my hand and laced his fingers with mine.

"Finally, I developed the ability to form myself. No one else could see me, but I could at least view my body, hold myself together. It felt like a huge accomplishment, like I was still here." He looked at me questioningly, as if asking if I understood what he meant. I nodded for him to keep going. His eyes darkened and narrowed.

"That's when I realized that the spirit from the tunnel was using my body. I watched myself go about the business of running the hotel, as if nothing was wrong. I learned that Victoria had indeed accepted my marriage proposal, and a wedding was being planned. I was angry and vengeful. I learned to move things and blatantly flaunted this ability. There were a lot of ghost stories about the hotel during those days." He smiled regretfully. He remained silent, so I prompted him.

"What did you do? Why didn't the ghost stories continue?" I asked.

"I came to terms with my new condition," he said sardonically. "I gave up the spectacle. By then, I realized that the entity using my body was called James. I assumed he was the hotel manager killed in the fire in 1901, given the name, but I don't know for sure. He was growing more powerful by the day; he used the energy from the hot springs to maintain his power, and there was nothing I could do. He could see me, and every time he did, he would gloat. I didn't want to end up a bitter, old ghost. So, I just watched and lived my life vicariously through the guests. I tried to stay away from him." He shrugged with a sad look on his face, and my heart broke for him. Then, he squeezed my hand.

"Until the night, that you came into the library," he told me. "I hadn't felt the longing and bitterness in years, but I was so angry that I couldn't talk to you. That's why I brought the book to your room. I knew I shouldn't, but I wanted to be a part of your life. I knew it was silly." He trailed off softly.

"When you were able to see me, I was shocked. When I touched you, I allowed myself to hope for the first time since I became this spirit," he was whispering now, gazing at me intently. I gulped with the tension.

"Bella," he said reverently. I could only nod; my voice had left me. "I can't stay away from you." My throat was dry, but I managed to croak out an answer.

"Then, don't." I whispered back to him. He placed his hands around my upper arms and tugged gently, indicating that he wanted me to stand. I willingly obliged, and he pulled me onto his lap. His face was only inches from mine, our noses almost touching.

"I want to try something," he whispered, and I nodded, my voice having failed again. I only hoped our thoughts were in sync.

He leaned forward slightly, and our lips were just barely touching. I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. He leaned forward more, increasing the pressure, and then his hands were in my hair, pulling me close to him. My lips parted without a conscious thought, and his tongue was in my mouth and mine in his. My arms went around his neck, and I pressed into him greedily. We kissed with hunger for what seemed like hours. I was lost in him and had lost all concept of time.

He lifted me gently and carried me over to the bed, laying me down respectfully. He broke the kiss, and I mewed in displeasure. He was breathing heavily, and his eyes were sparkling. I'm sure I looked the same.

"You need your rest," he said. "There's no telling what you're going to face tomorrow. You're safe in here with me. I don't think they'll come into the room; it would be too obvious. The door is dead-bolted anyway." I acquiesced, knowing he was right about needing rest. I fixated on his words.

"I'm safe with you. Does that mean you'll stay?" I asked needily. I actually didn't care how I sounded. I just wanted him here with me.

"I'll stay," he confirmed. I got ready for bed, and he climbed in next to me, pulling me close to him. I did feel safe. For now.

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A/N: I have procrastinated mightily this week in editing the remaining chapters of this story. I should be able to stick to my every 5 day update schedule, but if I do not, then you can blame DarkBlueBella. I am obsessed with her story, The Selkie Man. I was literally leaving patients in clinic to wait for me while I played on the computer and plugged a trip from LAX to Kirkwall, Orkney into Orbitz. It's not as expensive as you would think, but I still don't have the time to go.