Chapter Fourteen

I was drowning in fire, and I was begging for death, but I had anchors to this pain. The hand in mine held me here, and a voice that sounded so very far away was murmuring my name. But I didn't want to answer because to do so would keep me anchored to the fire. I wanted to drift, to die.

And there was another pain I knew, but this pain was different from mine, for it was not mine altogether. It was deep in a rear corner of my mind, faraway yet still there.

I should have left her there. I shouldn't have allowed Carlisle to bring her to this life. She doesn't deserve this. It was Edward I heard, but I knew immediately he wasn't speaking out loud. What was echoing through my head was Edward's voice, although it was pitched a half-step lower than usual. It also seemed very distant, as if he were talking from a long distance away.

Then my heart began to beat much faster than it ever had; it was as if it were trying to escape through my ribs. It moved too fast to count the beats, each passing swiftly into the next. This swift new heartbeat of mine only made the fire worse, as if it had added the fuel. The flames made my spine arch painfully until it felt like snapping in two.

"Carlisle," Edward murmured softly, my sprinting heart echoing loudly through his head, "is it over yet?"

Somewhere above me, another familiar voice answered just as quietly, "I think so, but I cannot be sure." There was a soft pause, and Carlisle added, a small smile slipping into his words, "You would know better than I would."

Edward was quiet for a moment. Too quiet, I thought.

Did he hate me in this life as he loved me in our old lives? Was there no room in this new life for the sister he loved? Or did he blame himself for everything that had happened when he was gone?

A wave of anguish washed over me; I hadn't even noticed that the pain was beginning to fade as rapidly as it had come.

My heart thudded loudly and painfully twice, then gave one last throb, and stopped. I slumped back and felt finally thankful that it was over. But there was a strange new feeling that something was missing. And then I realized there was no air in my lungs, and this was unfamiliar; I reflexively took a deep breath, only to understand that my body was unsure how to respond. It didn't need the air in my lungs.

Suddenly a hand was brushing the hair from my forehead, and Edward whispered in a low voice, "Emily, I know you can hear us. Just open your eyes."

I obeyed like a small child. The room was pitch black, but I could see every detail of Edward's face above me, including the bright teeth flashing from the crooked grin I knew so well. It was even more beautiful than I had known it, finally seeing it through my new eyes. There were unfamiliar voices whispering faintly in my ears; even though they sounded very far away, I could understand every word said, every distinction between voices.

But there were two things I noticed more than anything as my eyes opened for the first time in this, my new life. The first was the dry ache in my throat, the painful yearning in my stomach; it felt like I had been hungry for so long. I had never known the pain of hunger such as this, had had the privileged life where three solid meals a day were simply taken for granted, so this feeling of intense hunger was strange and unknown to me.

As were the voices running through my head. The only ones I recognized were Edward and Carlisle's, and they were so much louder than the others, perhaps because they were nearest or perhaps because I knew them better. But the rush of voices was flooding through my mind, blending together so swiftly that I couldn't understand anything.

The strange combination of hunger and confusion made me scream in frustration. The sound echoed hollowly through my head, silencing the voices for only a moment. This was all so upsetting and unfamiliar that I broke down sobbing. Several inches away, Edward's face was twisted with an indescribable expression, one torn with intense parts of disbelief and confusion. Just over his shoulder, I could see Carlisle's face wrought with a similar expression, his marble brow furrowed with apprehension.

Edward, what's going on? What's wrong? It was Carlisle's voice, yet somehow it wasn't but still familiar enough to recognize as Carlisle's. As soon as I heard it, however, the stream quieted to a low rush in the background, a sound that was so easily ignored.

For a moment, all Edward could do was to stare at me in disbelief and shake his head. It's not possible…of course, it's possible…she's already proved that. The confusion in his eyes of liquid gold was not helping me to feel any better, and neither was his silent voice echoing through my head.

"Edward, please, just stop!" I wailed. I hid my face in my hands and began sobbing again, waiting for the tears that weren't coming like I'd thought they would.

Emily, wait. It was patient, soothing but edged with a trace of pain and regret. Edward's long hands looped around my wrists and tried to pull my hands away from my face, but I wasn't going to let him look me in the face. Emily, please, just look at me, he continued calmly. I know nothing makes sense, and I can explain everything, just look at me. I shook my head in protest. Edward sighed softly, wearily. You can trust me in this life just as you trusted me in our last life, sister. Even after everything, I'm still the brother you love.

I slowly lowered my hands and looked cautiously up into Edward's face. He smiled the familiar crooked grin he'd inherited from our father. We look just as identical in this life as we did in the last one, he thought, clearly amused.

And, as I saw my face reflected in his thoughts, I saw he was right. We both still had the unusual bronze hair our mother had given us, and our faces were still so clearly our mother's, even behind the smooth perfection. Edward's face still hinted at the underlying presence of our father's strong features, but mine held the delicacy that our mother's had.

But the biggest and most startling difference was the colors of our eyes. They'd once been the same vibrant shade of emerald as our mother's, but now his were liquid gold and mine were vivid, blood-red.

"Edward," I murmured quietly. I would have continued, but the unfamiliarity of my voice startled me. It was still my voice, just smoother, quieter than I'd meant it, and ringing with soft undertones similar to those of a bell. But as startled as I was, I had to know. So I looked into Edward's eyes and whispered, "What are we?"

Edward's answering smile was dazzling. He turned to Carlisle and queried lightly, "Would you like to answer this one, Carlisle?"

I turned hopefully to Carlisle, only to find him already sitting at my side. The small smile that lit up his face slipped gently as he explained quietly about how the pain in my throat and the yearning in my stomach was the thirst for blood I would always know as a vampire. He explained that in the small world of our existence, there were two types of our kind: those who would sacrifice their humanity to fulfill their thirst, and those who would maintain what humanity they could by abstaining from human blood and sustaining themselves on the blood of animals.

Looking into his outrageously beautiful face, as weary-looking and worried as it was, I knew immediately which he was. A face so marked with compassion could never belong to a being that could so easily kill innocents to satisfy its own thirsts. He would set aside his own pain to prevent others from suffering.

And so I was born to Carlisle's way of life, to the family he'd created for himself and, more importantly, for us.