-xii-
Standing at that clearing, watching her fly further and further away had done two things to Edward. The first was it had made him angry. Whether he was angry because she had gotten away or angry because she was no longer with him was still undecided. Second, hearing those thoughts from the others that had made him nearly sick with confusion.
He had no idea if they thought those things because they knew he would hear them, or if what they had been thinking was actually true. He knew very little about mates, not a single member of the guard had one, and only a handful of the vampires he'd ever destroyed were bound to anyone in that way. What he did know, was that if you threatened the life of a vampires bride or vice versus, the other would do anything to spare them.
He'd always been glad he didn't have one, couldn't imagine what having a weakness like that would mean for a man like him. Yet just look at how I reacted when I thought they were going to kill her...He shook that thought from his mind when the others joined him. They all eyed him warily, Demitri no doubt looking for a sign that he felt something for the woman.
Doing his best to look indifferent, he led them back to the car as they headed back to the city while they decided on what needed to be done. The entire drive, thoughts ran rampant through everyone's heads as they tried to understand how everything had gotten so far off track. This wasn't the kind of behavior anyone expected from Edward, it wasn't the kind of behavior they expected from anyone on the guard for that fact.
He'd broken so many rules in so short a time that even he couldn't find a single scenario in which he too wouldn't be destroyed. I've put myself in jeopardy...for a woman...a woman I don't even know. But every time he would think that, the image of her beautiful face would flash into his mind and the feel of her fingers against his cheek seemed to be branded on his skin. I can still feel the way her little hand cradled me.
This was how he spent the drive into the city. He would try to gain anger and would instead recall the way she felt, smelled or looked at a particular moment and it would leave him grateful that she had gotten away.
When the four arrived at the private home tucked away in the hills, they each went off on their own to collect their thoughts about the events of the day. He could hear everyone's unified thought about letting Aro know what had happened and exactly whose fault it was that it had gotten botched. Let them.
Edward was fully prepared to take whatever came his way over this incident. He had been the one to call the shots, he had been the one to halt their progress...all in all, he was guilty of screwing this all up. Heading to the room he would claim as his own tonight, he sank down on the bed and prepared for what he knew would be a useless attempt at sleep. At least that's what he thought.
As soon as his head had hit the pillow and the covers had cooled to his body, sleep claimed him...and with it, so did his dreams...
As they lay in bed together, with her hands lingering touches along his chest and her lips following the same trail, he knew he was in love. Simply waking with her in his arms made him ecstatic, but waking and finding they were both naked made him over the moon. He couldn't seem to stop touching and kissing her. She didn't seem to mind in the least when his hands lingered on her bottom or that his shaft prodded at her belly.
Each time he took her lips he noted how sweet she was. Literally. Her taste was that of sugar or even honey. The feel of her soft curves against his muscles gave him a masculine thrill that he'd never experienced before.
He'd never imagined he could feel this overwhelming sense of completeness, had assumed that that part of life had been forfeited to him because of his change. But here he was, utterly content with all he'd been given, even though he among all men probably deserved it the least.
His eyes were growing greedy to see her deep inviting eyes, so he kissed her pretty little head, gently chucked her chin and when she raised her beautiful face, he was once again lost in the absolute trust he saw so clearly in her eyes. She held no reservation for the fact that as a soft, vulnerable human he could hurt so easily. His little bride believed in him completely.
He hadn't told her that he loved her yet, but his heart ached for her… for his Isabella.
That dream had woken Edward with a start; his body was a mass of tension and emptiness as he rolled over in bed and found that it was empty, except for him. His arms were cold and his heart was aching as he touched the spot where she should have been. She'd fit so perfectly there against him, her body warm and inviting. His shaft was unbearably hard for her, as if his body could still feel her soft hands and lips moving over his skin. I can still taste her sweet lips.
Moving with precision he traced around the room and dressed. He hadn't decided if he'd actually gone mad or if this was in fact a repercussion of her wielding some sort of seduction over him. All he knew was that that dream had shaken him, and if there was even a small bit of truth to any of its content, then he wanted to know once and for all what the hell had happened to make it disappear.
He had no idea where he was going or what this would mean for his place with the guard. He may have even paused to think about it, but in the time it took him to stand still, the way her eyes had looked up to him so trustingly in that dream popped into his head…effectively ending the debate.
Walking out the front door, Edward set off into the dark to find her.
(***)
1830 miles away, in a small town by the name of Forks, Washington, Isabella and her three acquaintances walked through the front door of the Cullen home. When they'd headed up the drive, a feeling of safety had finally washed over her. She knew it didn't mean she couldn't be hurt, but for her, Carlisle and Esme were the epitome of what parents represented. Safety and warmth.
Though the Cullen residence had never truly been her home, it had been Edwards. It reminded her that there had been a time when he was a different man…a different person. She didn't know if he felt any remorse over what had happened to her, but she thought that maybe they had made a connection on that floor earlier that day.
Now more than ever she was confused about what had happened to him three years ago. When he'd changed her, they had just made love. He hadn't been mean or hurtful with her, and looking back with a keen memory; she could recall all the tiny details of care he'd bestowed upon her. She was convinced that whatever or whoever had changed him did a pristine job of wiping all his memories. He may never truly remember me.
When he made it through the foyer, Esme traced to her and pulled her into a hug immediately. Just like a mother who'd been reunited with a child that had been lost, she showered her with kisses and checked her face over to see if she was hurt.
Any signs of struggle had well been healed and she looked precisely as she had when they'd met her years before. But the hurt in her eyes was still there, standing out as an accusation just as much as any bruise would have.
Carlisle was next to hug her. He seemed to breathe a little easier when she hugged him back, and when he patted her back like a child, she began to weep against him. Only Carlisle could understand her loss, at least that's the way she saw it.
He'd been the one to create Edward…and Edward had been the one to create her. Their bond was the same, different in its context, but the same. Isabella didn't mean to suggest that no one else in the room loved him more or less, but it was just different.
When Isabella was calm enough, they led her into the dining room, though it had never been used for eating, and started at the beginning.
"Sweetie, are you thirsty?" Esme stood from her chair before Isabella even had a chance to answer and had filled a mug of blood and traced it back to her. Though she needed to drink, she wasn't necessarily thirsty. Knowing she needed it, she accepted the mug and stared off into the distance, remembering all the reasons it was necessary to do so right now.
Those hit's she'd sustained had depleted her, her body could heal, but it took drinking for her body to do so. Taking her first sip, she recalled the way her head had been slammed into a wall and then held down to the dirty floor by Edward's foot.
Sadness so acute to the point of pain flooded her, more so than what it had felt like earlier. Everyone seemed to gasp, pulling her from her thoughts. She gazed around to see the looks of pain that everyone seemed to be wearing; it was as if they too could feel what she had just experienced.
Alice spoke softly, her tone somber as she explained. "You haven't really met Jasper have you?" When Isabella shook her head she continued. "He has a gift too, like Edward. Except he can feel emotions…and make others feel them too."
That had gotten Isabella's attention. She turned to see the blond one whom she now knew was Jasper and frowned. She didn't want him making people feel that pain, it was bad enough that she had to. He must have felt her conflict, because he was quick to explain himself.
"Sometimes it's overwhelming…the emotions. I don't mean to make people feel them, but sometimes it's just too much for me to keep in…I generally prefer it when it's happiness." He gave her a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes, and just as quickly as the pain came, a feeling of calm washed over her to take its place.
"Thank you" she told him with absolute sincerity. She couldn't have needed that any more than she did at that moment, because she knew she would have to relive every detail that had just transpired in the last 24 hours.
As Isabella recounted everything that had happened, right down to the helicopter flying off, everyone at the table was silent. No one breathed, moved or even blinked. The only sound present was the simultaneous beating of seven hearts. Seven hearts?
Isabella looked around the room and noted how there were only six at the table. Though it didn't surprise her that everyone here had been blooded, it did surprise her that one of them wasn't present. Her eyes quickly darted to Emmett; his eyes were down, his shoulders sunk in miserably. "I'm Rosalie's husband…" that's what he'd said in the car.
Does she really hate me that much? Before she could ask that question aloud, Rosalie herself walked around the corner. Though she was as beautiful as ever, there was something off about the way she carried herself in this moment. Any time before when she would walk in a room, she had this superior air about her, as if she knew instinctively that she was better than everyone around her.
That wasn't the case right now thought. Instead she wore a long cashmere sweater and jeans, her feet were bare and her hair was tied in a sloppy knot at the top of her head. No one except Emmett greeted her, no one even acknowledged her.
Isabella noted how everyone seemed to look even more down trodden, but the oddest thing of all was when Rosalie came to sit beside Bella. Emmett came with her, holding her hand as if he was her life line and support. Isabella could understand that, Edward had been hers.
"Bella…I-I need to tell you something."
It was in the way she said it that made her stomach fall. Bella sat up straighter, her heart beating erratically as she braced herself for whatever news was coming her way. From the look on Rosalie's face…she gathered this was not going to be good.
Staring at her fidgety fingers, Rosalie confessed what everyone here apparently already knew. "Three years ago I was talking with a friend." She paused to catch her breath then continued in the same small voice. "You had just come back to be with Edward in Chicago and things for me were a little…weird."
The mood in the room was heavy, but still no one made any move to leave or lighten it. "I was…jealous of you, of your presence in our family." A sinking feeling began to settle in the pit of Isabella's stomach and she wasn't sure she wanted to hear anymore, but still Rosalie continued.
"I didn't know it at the time, but…when I had mentioned you were Edward's mate and that you had blooded him, that person went back to Italy and told the Volturi."
Isabella was lost. She'd never heard of the Volturi, didn't even know enough to care about who they were, but apparently everyone here knew and hearing the confession aloud had caused a few of them at the table to gnash their teeth.
"It's my fault that Edward left…that he doesn't remember you." Too many question arose in her mind at once, she couldn't comprehend how Rosalie not liking her or complaining about her had caused Edward to forget her or go away for that matter.
"What are you talking about?" Rosalie's face was miserable; her eyes were dark from lack of blood and looked to be holding a lot of grief.
"They'd wanted him for a long time…for their guard…" Bella still didn't understand, none of it made any sense. Carlisle interceded then and went on to explain how the Volturi were a Royal family among the vampires. She learned of the three brothers and the power they wielded among the immortals. She heard of Carlisle's time spent with them early on, then of their interest in Edward when his gift had been discovered.
They'd wanted him for years…twenty to be exact. But he would never willfully join them, not while Carlisle and Esme still lived. They had no power over him, nothing to persuade him…until Bella came along.
Rosalie running her mouth the way she had, finally gave them the information they needed to persuade him otherwise. She saw it all so clearly now, could understand the choice he'd had to make. She still didn't remember her transition, nor the time he'd been there to the time he'd left, but she knew in her heart of hearts that he'd been forced to choose.
He'd loved her so much that the idea of her being hurt would have driven him to do anything. Including leave her to spare her. Wordlessly, Isabella rose from the table and quietly walked up stairs. She didn't bother tracing, her time was pretty much endless. There was no love waiting for her in their bed, no touches or kisses waiting for her on the other side of the door. She was alone…because someone had made it that way.
Walking into Edwards room was like a kick in the gut. She'd stayed here before, when Carlisle and Esme had first brought her to their home. But Rosalie had been so hateful even then that she only stayed for a few days and returned to the brown stone in Chicago.
She sank onto the bed that lay against the windowed wall and tried to take in all the details that Edward had put into the space. He had cd's and albums in pristine condition lining the shelves. Little knickknacks adorned his dresser, and she tried to think of stories for each one. He'd never been here with her…but he'd been here.
Down stairs everyone sat at the table still, each offering an idea on how to try and get Edward home. No one commented on the fact that when he got here, it wouldn't mean he was safe. They would come for him…and forever he would have a target the size of Italy on his back.
Rolling on her side, she wrapped the blankets tight around her body and lay in the dark until sleep could claim her, until she could dream of him…like she did every night.