Alright… So I'm just gonna assume that you all know of my extreme regrets for not posting in recent months…. Haha okay so my regrets aren't that extreme, I just went through a super fanfic obsessed stage over the summer that faded very quickly after a few months. I had intended on posting another chapter a few weeks ago but I didn't. Sorry =). But now I am, so yah.

(oh, and I didn't want to add this detail earlier so u cud kinda imagine whatever u want for it, but, Morgan is from Britain so I picture her character with a British accent…)

Chapter 13

Edward sat on the bed next to his sister, glaring at her. No matter what good she and Emmett saw in that woman, it didn't change the fact that her people had forcefully and violently taken them hostage. He didn't trust Morgan and he sure as hell didn't trust Jonathan, Steve or the thugs. "I'm not talking to her, Alice!" he said. "I'm not talking to her unless someone forces me to, which I'm sure they're bound to do, sooner or later!"

Esme, Emmett and Alice all gaped at Edward, unbelieving. He was the type to please and the fact that he wasn't going along with his siblings was shocking. "Ed," his brother said, "you have to calm down…"

"No!" Edward cut him off. "We've all been put through crap and I'm not going to calm down until you tell me what's going on!"

Emmett was starting to get flustered and didn't know what to say. Shaking his head, he spoke up again, "Edward you're gonna have another attack…"

But, again, Edward cut him off, "Enough about my damn asthma! According to that asshole it's all in my fucking head anyway! What I need now is for you to just freaking tell me what I want to know!" He finished the statement with a heavy breath. He was heaving, hot and frustrated. He had continued pulling on his cuffed wrist and blood was trickling down it just as sweat was trickling down the side of his face. Everyone in the room expected him to start gasping for breath, but, somehow, his breathing slowly got back to normal.

Alice had slid herself away from Edward while he was yelling, but was now leaning in toward him, amazed. "How are you not hyperventilating? You never recover this quickly."

Edward ignored his sister and turned his attention to Emmett. Emmett was unsure but resigned to asking his mother for help. "Can you just… make him understand, Mom? I can't be the one to tell him this… Make him understand that he needs to listen to Morgan."

"You know what, Sweetie?" Esme shook her head, as if realizing something, and directed her comments toward Emmett. "I'm not even sure I understand why you want your brother to talk to that woman." She could see Edward's face contrast the look that Emmett got when she said that. He started to smile a bit, knowing that his mother was finally backing him up. Hearing him scream out his hurt and confusion and not doing anything about it was breaking her heart and she knew it wasn't fair. She also knew that keeping her husband's secret from the kids wasn't an option anymore.

Morgan had probably already told Emmett and Alice, along with God knows what other secret, life-changing information, and Edward was going to find out sooner or later. She had promised Carlisle that when the time came, she would let him tell the kids, but here the time was and Esme was the only one around. Well, Esme and a group of hired psychos.

She was nervous as hell and didn't know how she was supposed to start the conversation, but she did anyway, "I don't know what Morgan told you two," she referred to her two oldest, "but I think it's time for me to tell you what I know."

Edward looked surprised but the other two's looks were almost knowing. Esme continued, "Your father and I have been keeping a very big secret from the three of you." She opened her mouth to speak again but closed it instead, trying to figure out all the best words to use. She wasn't lying when she told Emmett she didn't really understand. Sure, she knew exactly what her husband was capable of and she had a pretty good idea of what her kids might become one day, but as for how, why or any other aspect, Esme had few details.

Carlisle had a few more details, for his father had passed down the information to him on his death bed. Most of those details he kept to himself. All he told Esme and all she wanted to know was what he was and the fact that he passed these genes on to his kids. The other stuff didn't matter to her. Not until now, but without all the information, Esme had to work harder to get her point across . She decided to tell them, to the best of her memory, what Carlisle had told her fifteen years ago.

"When you all were little, something happened to your father. He knew it possibly would one day, but it was the first time I had ever heard of the Nixyns." She breathed in through her nose. Now that she had started talking, she could feel the right words coming to the surface on their own.

Edward shifted uncomfortably, noticing the pain in his wrist now that he had calmed down, some. He wanted to ask his mom what in the hell a Nixyn was, but didn't want to interrupt and risk her not finishing the story. So, he did his best to stop fidgeting and listened.

Esme's mind was somewhere else as she spoke, "Emmett was six and Alice and Eddie were just toddlers. It was the last day of kindergarten and we had left the babies with a really sweet friend from across the street. Darlene, I think it was. Anyhow, it was Emmett's last day and Carlisle and I were driving to the school for his graduation.

We were driving, listening to some awful 80's station, when an animal ran out in front of the car. There wasn't time to stop and we hit it. I was sure it was a deer or an elk, but when we got out and walked to the front of the car, it looked more like a dog. A wolf, really. Carlisle had the same look in his eyes as is he did the day his father passed on. He said 'God, no.' and reached down to see if it was still alive. The animal was bloody everywhere and he got it all over his hands and arms.

The dog should have been dead, but when Carlisle touched its neck its eyes opened. They were bright and glowing and the dog bit Carlisle. My husband screamed something I didn't understand and then he said the blood had mixed. He told me he was sorry but he didn't know what else to do. He got up and ran across the street and into the forest.

I had tried to go after him but he was so fast. When I walked back to the car the dog was gone. I didn't see your father for-" Esme was pulled out of her reverie by a knock on the door. At this point even Emmett and Alice had been locked into their mother's story. Whatever Morgan told them, it definitely wasn't this. They all wanted Esme to continue, but Morgan opened the door and entered the room. "Is Edward ready to talk?" she said.

She and Emmett locked eyes, but Esme was the one who answered, "No, he isn't." Her voice was bitter and commanding.

Morgan's lips were tight, she was quite clearly annoyed, "Fine. We won't worry about that for the moment, then. However, if we are not going to make any more progress here, I must insist we get moving to the hotel."

"What hotel? What are you talking about?"

"Oh, that's right. We haven't formally told you lot where the next step in this process takes place. Unfortunately for you, your knowledge of such things doesn't really factor into our success. The less you cooperate, the less information you will be given." She looked over her shoulder and yelled, "Jonathan, get those idiots of yours to come grab our prisoners! We're moving out."

All four Cullens, even Alice and Emmett, got a strike of fear from the mention of the goons. Trust in Morgan was debatable, but there was no telling what the beef heads would do if they were alone with you.

Within a couple of minutes, each of the four goons had a hold on a Cullen and the whole lot was in front of the cabin, standing by two identical white vans. Jonathan was standing next to the one that Edward and Alice had arrived in and Morgan in front of the one Emmett and Esme had. The biggest goon had a hold on Emmett and Steve was squeezing Edward tight to his body. Throughout the night, he had almost forgotten about the creep. He hated the way he had looked at him when they were taken from the bedroom and he hated the way he kept touching his hair.

Morgan shouted orders, "Okay, Jonathan, we must get to the hotel before sundown. If we don't our other little friend will be able to leave and we wouldn't want that, now would we? It's doubtful the other Nixyn will be there, he's too smart for that, but –"

Morgan kept talking about the other Nixyn when Steve grabbed Edwards bloody (as in bleeding, but yeah I guess as in bloody, too (; ) wrist. Edward sucked in a breath. He wasn't grabbing it to inspect the damage, but to see if he could make him squeal. He squeezed the wrist harder. Edward began to let out a yelp of pain before Steve clamped a hand over his mouth. "Shh… Not while the lady's talking" he whispered into his ear.

Steve was smiling and Morgan gave him a slightly disapproving, slightly amused look. "Now don't try to kill him, Steve. I want that wrist bandaged up. There's a first aid kit in your van." She turned to her second in command and threw him a set of keys, "Alright Jonathan, you take the boys and I'll take the girls. You're going to want to restrain the older one." She looked at Emmett, "Sorry, Sweetie, but you weren't as cooperative as I thought you'd be and I'm not sure if I can trust you when I'm not there." Looking back to Jonathan, she finished with, "The other one shouldn't be too hard for Steve to restrain, but, Jonathan? When we get there, give the boy back his crutches. I don't think he'll be as progressive as you might have liked."

Okey dokey, so no promises about any update times. I kinda screwed up with that in the past saying I'll post when I don't and to be honest, I'm having some serious, serious writer's block when it comes to this damn story! Any suggestions would be GREATLY appreciated and totally taken into account. BTW, I will be incorporating stuff about wolfies and werewolves and such, however, the cullens are not werewolves. I'm definitely planning a Black incorporation (as in Jacob's lot).

Have a Dixie day