I'm so sorry this is late. But I was in a fairly creative mood while writing it, so I didn't want to stop. I considered ending the chapter roughly halfway through what ended up being the current chapter, but I've been rather cruel about cliffhangers lately. So you got a trade: a delay for an extra five pages. I thought it was pretty fair…

Enjoy!

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Edward's Point of View:

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I leaned over the warped railing of the dilapidated lookout, cold fingers resting on my temples, as I had often seen humans when they had a headache. The frigid air whispered with dark clarity in my ears, wafting the scents of the city to my sensitive nose.

Emmett would be waiting for me, I knew, as well as Jasper. Neither would be pleased to be kept under the city's piers for any longer than was strictly necessary; the docks were the cesspool of the city.

But neither could have possibly anticipated what a fiasco this night had become.

And the one person who could have possibly predicted how the night would unfurl stood next to me, her thoughts flying chaotically through her head.

Should have Seen… Was it a snap decision? I don't understand… At least Isabella will be fine. But she'll have questions when she wakes up… He won't be able put off telling her the truth any longer… But why didn't I See?

"Alice, enough," I growled, feeling as if I might truly get a headache. I turned to glare at her, my hands clenched tightly at the rails. It felt as if the twisted wood should snap under the pressure I exerted, but it held firm under my stone grasp.

The sky was still fully dark, stars shining weekly through the thin shroud of clouds wiling the velvet heavens. It was even darker here, past the outskirts of the city. In the distance, I could clearly make out the glow of the lights, the sharp outline of structures against the horizon. But everything had a curious edge of numbness, making me view the world through a hazed image. Even Alice's pale face seemed dimmed, muted in the cold gloom.

You need to go, Edward. Emmett's already annoyed with you. Not to mention the insignificant fact that this won't work as effectively in daylight.

I straightened, preparing the leave. "Did Jasper and Emmett take care of… the details?" My voice sounded peculiarly rough, but I didn't pause to think on it.

Alice didn't need clarification. "Yes," she sighed, soprano voice uncharacteristically somber. Carlisle isn't going to be pleased though…"

"Carlisle knows the situation, he knows what's necessary" I snapped, nerves already frayed. I flinched almost imperceptibly when I heard the responding melancholy thoughts of my sister. Pausing, I drew in another breath of fresh air. My temper was dangerously close to the surface, far to close to deal with a night like this one would be. Releasing my iron hold from the railings of the balcony, I strived to control my temper. Emotions raged within me like a dark tempest, each warring with the other for dominance.

Anger, hatred, guilt, regret, depression… and love.

For a moment, I wished Jasper was here. I yearned for the serenity his presence always conveyed. But I knew that a brief period of blissful calm wouldn't dampen the torrent of emotions held within me.

"I'm sorry Alice. I just…" I didn't have the words I needed to explain.

Alice's thin face broke out in a bright smile. Her teeth flashed in the dull moonlight, her dark eyes sparkling. "I know, Edward." I never had to explain to this sister, at least.

I turned towards the doorway. The high room was perched on the withering frame of the ancient tower perilously, the creaking wood seemed to be too weak to hold one person's weight, let alone three. But Alice had assured me the lookout wouldn't collapse, at least not during our short tenure.

It was cold, even inside the room. The faded brown walls were bare of any adornment, save for thin fractures that stretched across the wooden planks. All of the weapons, the other equipment that had once stood here had been removed in ages past.

The moonlight lanced through the doorframe in a soft, silver glow, vaguely illuminating the stark room. A pile of thick, woolen blankets lay in a neat, makeshift mattress in the corner of the room. Buried securely in that pile of cloth lie my angel.

My eyes fell over her prone form, and I felt my dead heart tighten and loosen simultaneously.

I had been so scared tonight, far more scared than I had ever let on. If my heart hadn't already stopped centuries ago, it would have surely when that… man held that cold metal against the smooth, tender skin of her throat.

I had been dark to her eyes, though not to mine. Even the murky, fetid alleyways of the city hadn't fazed my euphoric mood. Even the fact that my angel was too weak to walk hadn't overly concerned me. She was in my arms. Where for once, she could be held, could be cherished, could be protected.

Sometimes, I would look into her deep, guileless eyes, and see deep shadows. Sometimes I would wonder how much she had truly endured. How aged she really was. Not in years. Time means little, in some senses. I speculated how old she was mentally. How old she was emotionally.

And sometimes, I felt afraid of the answer.

Young humans going through traumatic experiences could be scarred for the rest of their life. I had seen it happen far too often for one lifetime. Even for one eternal lifetime.

And I felt my heart twist when I wondered if my angel felt an age greater than her years. I wondered if she would heal, in time.

I dared to hope I would be the one to help her heal. That I would be the one to hold her, to comfort her.

But until tonight, I had been petrified of voicing that thought aloud. I hadn't wanted myself to feel the disappointment of rejection; for rejection was surely the only thing I could receive.

But she loved me as well.

Oh yes, tonight had held a glorious, almost ephemeral beauty. But it was also marred by the dark shroud of what else had occurred.

She had still been vaguely conscious when I had ran her to the rendezvous we had determined earlier. Still coherent enough to be startled by my seemingly impossible feat. But that didn't matter; all that mattered was her safety, getting her to Carlisle as quickly as possible.

A part of me rejoiced at the thought of no longer having to deceive her, no longer having to lie. For her to know who I truly was… I longed for that release. And I feared it.

What if she couldn't accept me? What if she couldn't accept what I had done?

I reached out, quietly, in the darkness. Isabella's hair was splayed around her head like a glorious halo, gleaming softly in the moonlight. Dark eyelashes framed her closed eyes, her full lips parted slightly in sleep. Isabella's skin held an unnatural pallor, nearly as white as my own. I felt a twinge of anxiety as I compared her appearance now the rest of the times I had seen her, all catalogued in crystalline clarity in my memory. I frowned apprehensively as I realized her skin was a shade or two too pale. Though, she had lost a great deal of blood…

The thought wrenched me back into my brooding.

Her blood….

Oh, it had smelled delicious. So terribly appetizing, almost as much so as it had when I first smelled her… Floral. Lavender, almost freesia… Even the thought was enough to make me clench my hands tightly together, blunted fingernails digging into my palms. It was enough to make my stomach twist in horror, while at the same time made my throat burn with an animal frenzy, a primal desire…

Even now, I hadn't perfected my control. Even centuries after my rebirth, I wasn't immune. I had considered myself strong, almost infallible. But never as in control as Carlisle. Before I had met Isabella, I had begun the feel the feral urges within me fade, recede.

But the scent of her, that first time, was enough to shatter my hopeful illusions and leave me reeling. I, who had spent centuries of tortuous effort to control myself, thwarted by a mere human girl.

My first sight of her had left me reeling in shock and confusion, in more ways than one.

And my feelings had grown for her since then.

I allowed my icy fingers to trace the lines marring her milky throat. It had been smooth, flawless, just a few hours ago. But I had let go of her, had left her unprotected. That simple response, that seemingly innocuous action, had almost taken her from me permanently.

There had been two men in the gloom of the alleyways. I had picked up the thoughts of one, had stalked his vile scent through the darkness. The resemblance to the life I had once led, years and years ago, had come back to me with an uncanny force of déjà vu. The scene had so resembled my rebellious years, it had shocked me.

But not enough to let my guard down.

The man I had stalked through the gloom had been disposed of easily, so easily. His silent death disconcerted me slightly. It had been a long time since I had taken human life, and the ease of which I now did it startled me.

But even the thought of him being a threat to Isabella… It had been enough for me to push aside any moral convictions. Had been enough for me to allow the predator within myself resurface enough to deal with his presence silently, efficiently.

I would do anything to protect my Isabella, my angel.

Even break her heart.

My cold hands passed over her throat, tracing the cuts lightly. Isabella inhaled deeply, her full lips curling slightly, as if in a smile. I felt my heart melt. And harden.

Will she forgive me, once she awakes?

Looking back, I realized that I had possessed no other options. But it had broken my heart, perhaps even more thoroughly than hers, as I had lied. Had allowed the most vile untruths to flow, seamlessly, from my lips. Had died inside as I acted out my charade.

I Had felt the hurt when I saw her eyes. Had felt the blow as if it had physically stricken me.

And I wondered if I could possibly bear to do the same thing again.

By the time I had disposed of the first man, the other had the knife pressed against her vulnerable throat. I had been short sighted, incredibly foolish, not to sense the other man's presence. And it had cost me, and my angel, so very dearly.

So I had quickly picked up the dagger the slain man lying crumpled with a broken neck at my feet had carried.

By that time, it was too late even to risk using my superhuman speed. I would have, would have in an instant; regardless of the fact that Isabella had no inkling of my darker side. It would be worth any consequence to spare her life.

But I had picked up the thoughts of her captor. He was nervous, though he put on an incredibly good front, almost as good as my own. Even a twitch from my direction, he would have slit her throat. I was fast, faster than any in my family. But I had been petrified with an icy fear.

What if I wasn't fast enough? What if my overconfidence cost Isabella her life?

I had known then that I would never forgive myself, not if I lived for another hundred thousand years.

And so I knew what I had to do.

Her captor's twisted thoughts were full of assumptions, correct assumptions. That I cared about Isabella, cared deeply. Which wasn't far off the mark. I loved her much more than he suspected.

But he was banking on the fact that I cared.

So I couldn't care.

Or at least, I had to pretend I didn't.

So I had broken the heart of an angel.

But at least I didn't have to see her, cold, lifeless. Though the warm tears running down her smooth cheeks crashed into my body like a chilling tidal wave, at least I didn't have to cradle her lifeless body in my arms. At least I didn't have to bury her: as I had for so many others.

And even if she wouldn't, couldn't, forgive me, I wouldn't have any regrets. Her life was far too precious to squander in the dark alleyways of a godforsaken city like this one.

The scent of the warm, horribly appetizing blood running fresh from her throat, had almost thrown me into sheer instinct. Had almost been enough to obliterate all sense of logic, all sense of any shreds of humanity I still carried in my dead body. I had been close. I was so very close to snapping.

But I hadn't.

And every moment, I thanked any higher power was out there for that much of a blessing.

It would have been torture for me to see Isabella dead. To have known I could have protected her, could have done more. But if I had killed my angel myself… it would have been so far past the worst pain of the worst torture that I shuddered to even think of it. Shied away from realizing, that if I had killed her, I wouldn't have survived myself.

My fate was entwined with hers now. For better or for worse.

It had shook me, rattled me, how unprepared I had been. How shortsighted, how blind. And it terrified me, chilled me with a peculiar intensity as I fully grasped the fact how close my foolish shortcomings had very nearly cost. And how much they did still weigh on my shoulders.

Even now, I felt a strange cascade of despair, guilt, and hatred as I softly caressed Isabella's throat, lightly traced the scars that marred the milky skin. She was just as beautiful as ever. But now I had to see the physical manifestations of the price she paid for being involved with me; for even being near me.

Watching her, so peaceful in sleep, was heaven and hell simultaneously.

"Edward, she'll be fine. Carlisle already checked her over, the cuts are shallow. You have a doctor's diagnosis and a clairvoyant's second opinion. What more do you need?" Alice spoke softly, glibly. Her eyes were dark, holding the same fire of life I usually found there. "Emmett and Jasper could always knock some sense into you… literally. And Emmett isn't far off from seriously considering that option at the moment…."

I straightened, wincing as the ancient floorboards creaked in protest. I turned towards my sister, her slight form blending in with the drab shadows. "You'll look after her?"

Alice rolled her eyes in exasperation. "You already know I will, Edward. Besides," she continued with the ghost of a smile, "what are sisters for?"

"Besides reminding me, rather rudely, to leave?"

"There's that too."

I sighed in defeat. There was no use postponing the inevitable. The future would eventually catch up to your present. I would know more than most.

"Very well." I shot one last glance at Alice, now folding herself gracefully to the dingy floor. Her eyes flashed quickly to mine, filled with annoyance. Not waiting for another rebuke, I exited the lookout that had become a haven. Her irate thoughts followed me on my way out.

The night was chilled, even to my icy skin. Chiding myself for the absent thoughts that stalked me, I forced myself to pay attention. Tonight wasn't a good time to pick for a distraction.

Even if I hadn't known the exact location of the docks, I could have very easily followed the smell to its source. The city was dim, the majority of its citizens safely asleep.

They were in for a rude awakening.

Slipping noisily through her shadows with the ease of long practice, my sharp eyes discerned every detail laid before me through the oppressive gloom. My senses seemed hyperactive, even for a vampire.

At last my solitary trek through the alleyways came to an end. The ocean spread out before me, its dark waters melding seamlessly with the black horizon. The gentle crash of the surf and the pungent odor of salt reached me long before I reached it.

My forehead wrinkling in distaste, I slowly lowered myself below the pier, almost at the same location Emmett and I had convened so long ago. Of course, it really wasn't that much time, not for two people who had lived for centuries. But somehow, it seemed an eternity separated myself from that night's dark watch.

Perhaps it was simply my altering perception.

Or perhaps because, this time at least, the crushing feeling of despair didn't hover over my shoulders. Perhaps it was because something shone brilliantly through that blanketing dark.

The waters were frigid, a sharp reminder of my motive. Scanning the area with my thoughts rather than my eyes, I grimaced. Alice hadn't lied about my brother's being… disgruntled.

"He showed up. I think we should commemorate the occasion." Emmett's bass voice sounded through the rumble of the water, his thoughts warring between annoyance and amusement.

I glared in Emmett's general direction, ignoring the mental thought processes rather distinctly aimed at myself. Deliberately paying no heed to his irked presence, I turned towards Jasper. "Is every thing ready?"

He nodded mutely, eyes flashing inquisitively to me, not bothering to answer aloud. Hearing the mental query, I answered without him voicing the question.

"I was… held up," I responded, voice clipped. Scowling at both of their candid mental responses, I turned to inspect the withering wooden framework above me. "I'll explain later."

The boards were dark and faded, their surface smoothed in the face of brutal storms. Nestled at the joints where the pylons met the walkways were small packages. They carried a very distinctive smell. One that jolted me to the past. Gunpowder.

"It's dry?" I asked, voice a mere whisper.

Emmett snorted, not bothering to conceal his tone. "Yes, no thanks to you. We already ran all of the fuses between each." I winced slightly at the concealed delight in his voice. My bear-like brother was very much anticipating seeing our final act of vandalism concluded. Though, in his thoughts, he phrased the situation with the expression finale.

Though I suppose, in a twisted way, it was.

"Alright. Emmett will take care of the pier on the left of this one; I'll take the one of the right." Jasper spoke for the first time tonight, his eyes flickering uneasily in the general periphery of the city. "Let's get this over with."

"Let's get this over with?" Emmett repeated verbatim, his deep tone incredulous. "You can't seriously say you aren't going to enjoy this. Either of you," his dark eyes flashed in my direction. "It's not every day even we get to do something like this."

"Emmett," I growled, my voice muted by the roll of the surf. "This is a job, we have to be careful. No evidence."

"I know my orders as well as you, dear brother of mine." Emmett turned, his hulking form dimming what slivers of moonlight reached us here. I shifted uncomfortably, not at all relishing the grating feel of brine against my skin. "Trust me, there's not going to be enough left for evidence."

Jasper and I cast corresponding glances at each other, both silently amused with our brother's peculiar sense of humor. I watched as both moved to their positions, fighting through the frigid undertow.

The sound of the sea slapping against the wharves was the only melody. The entire world seemed muted around us. "Careful," I hissed, my comment aimed at Emmett.

He turned to me halfway, broad face cast into shadow. "I'm the soul of discretion, Edward."

I snorted, not deigning to reply.

Briefly, I allowed my mind to wander. To one person in particular.

Despite what Alice's reassurances, it was difficult not to spend every moment brooding of Isabella, and whether she would forgive me. The thought of her rejection slashed a ragged hole through my heart. Of course, I deserved anything she would say to me.

I brusquely rebuked myself, sternly urging myself to think of only the present. It wasn't an easy task.

Swiftly, I reached inside of my shirt, drawing out a match. The sharp scent of sulfur helped clear my head.

"On the count of three," Jasper's tenor voice carried clearly through the dominating gloom.

"Demolition of the docks commencing," I faintly heard Emmett snigger, in glee and anticipation emanating from his thoughts. "When was the last time we destroyed something this big?"

Neither Jasper or I condescended to answer.

"One," his voice rang through the night. I shifted, holding to match near the wooden pier. Squinting, I eased myself closer to the fuse.

"Two," Jasper called, voice rising to be heard over the growl of the waves. Two points of light abruptly illuminated through the gloom, contrasting sharply with the former blackness. Quickly, I struck the match, the thin object immediately bursting into a brilliant flame.

"Three." Quickly, I lit the fuse, backpedaling the moment I reassured myself it had caught fire. Following my brothers' examples, I streaked through the water, reaching the shore before the fireworks began. Literally.

A loud boom and earsplitting crunch had me wincing. Suddenly, the horizon was etched in a brilliant light.

"Awesome," Emmett crowed, face exultant, deriving some kind of perverse pleasure from the sight of the entire docks in flames.

Almost immediately following the blaze and the ruckus, alarm bells began to toll throughout the city.

"We should go," I warned, faintly catching the tenor of the Guard's thoughts.

Jasper nodded, following me quickly into the darkness.

I had gained a faint amount of pleasure from our demolition. Of course, I would never admit anything of the sort to my incorrigible brother.

But now, I only had one thought predominant in my mind.

We quickly made our way through the city, passing by the dodgy outskirts without comment.

After another few moments of complete silence, Emmett couldn't resist speaking again.

"Even you, Edward," Emmett flashed a wide grin with his flawless teeth, gleaming menacingly in the moonlight, "had to admit that was the best act of civil destruction we've committed in ages."

"Nothing beats blowing things up, huh Emmett?" Jasper's tone was sarcastic, but I caught more than a faint trace of amusement and consensus.

Sometimes, I couldn't help but appreciate Emmett's raw enjoyment of life; even this existence of eternal darkness. Despite all else, I was typically unconcerned to listen to his thoughts.

"Well…" Disturbing images of Rosalie flashed briefly through his mind.

I swiftly took back my earlier, kinder, sentiment.

"Emmett!" I snarled, voice piercing through the soft darkness like a whip.

"Well, okay," he conceded, another round of mirth rising to surface. "But blowing things up is definitely a close second."

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This had a bit more fluff than most of my chapter do; I just couldn't resist putting Emmett into the scene…

What will Bella's reaction be when she awakens? Of course, we might assume she'll be understanding. But how will she take being lied to for almost an entire year? Or how will she react when she realizes that Edward was lying; and that he's a bloodsucking mythical creature?

Not so many chapters left, I'm sad to say. Of course, an Edward and Bella scene, and a bit more action concerning Bella evening the score for her rough treatment from her former masters….

I might be able to update by Monday, but I'm currently swamped in applying for course schedules for next year. (My school really seems to have issues with letting people into their A.P. programs… Oh, well…)

Until then,

Lon-Dubh