Chapter 25: 1921
"When do you think she'll wake up?" Edward asked Carlisle, standing next to the older vampire as they watched over Esme's writhing body.
Carlisle flinched with every scream, causing me to stand outside the room and look in on them. I still felt guilty over what had happened, but Carlisle had assured me he was not angry. He understood why I had to do what I did, and neither one of us liked it. Edward seemed to have no feelings except pity for the woman, but I didn't allow myself to get too close to him, not after what I had seen the day before.
"I'm not entirely—" he started, breaking off when Esme released a high-pitched scream. When she stopped for a moment, he tried again, his body tense and shoulders hunched.
"I don't know. The transformation is usually three days, so tomorrow evening would be my guess."
Edward nodded and they went back to watching Esme in silence. I made my way back to the living room again, favoring the ankle I had broken against the vampire's legs the day before, and let myself fall back onto the couch. The wound on my head was gone because of my rune, and so was the actual break, but the joint still hurt.
Edward had asked me about the symbol he had seen on my eyes when he was bringing me to the house. Carlisle had told him of my abilities, but hadn't mentioned what happens to me physically when I activate one of my runes. I told him it was my premonition rune, one of the three permanently drawn on my body, and he had stared in awe for an uncomfortable amount of time. I finally had to clear my throat and turn away to get him to stop, and he quickly apologized. Carlisle had called him soon after, and I hadn't put myself in a position to let him talk to me since.
That vision had shaken me straight to my core, making me question everything I thought I knew about myself and my life, what it could and could never be. I never thought I would ever find someone I would be able to spend eternity with, let alone fall in love. Companionship was all I had ever dreamed of, even with Hermes by my side, but according to the vision, I was going to find so much more . . . so much more in Edward. Not right away, but many years from now, we would be happy and in love, so in love that we constantly spent time with each other.
I couldn't let that happen, not with people coming after me. I had caused too much pain already without letting Edward get too close to me only to leave him behind when the tracker caught up to me again. My visions were taking me all over the country anyway, so I had no reason to believe I would ever—or could ever—settle down with anyone, let alone a vampire. He seemed like a nice young man, but my future was too uncertain to involve someone else.
I decided to leave them behind with my next vision and hopefully avoid them until that time was over. I knew disobeying my visions would lead to something worse for all of those involved, this time myself and Edward, but I couldn't convince myself to take the chance, not after believing it would never happen for so long.
"Isabella, what are you thinking about that has put that look on your face?" Carlisle asked, sitting on the coffee table in front of me as Hermes perched himself on my knee.
"It's nothing, Carlisle," I said with a tight smile. He didn't believe me, but he left the subject alone.
"Edward tells me he saw something happen to your eyes when he brought you back here yesterday," he said. "From what he described, that was your premonition rune. Care to talk about it?"
I shook my head and he sighed softly. I peeked at his face as I hung my head and my heart hurt with the look of disappointment and hurt there. I knew he was hoping I would talk to him like I used to, but the less he knew the better. He already knew more than others I had let myself get close to, and that knowledge could be used against him. Adding to it would only make the situation worse for him.
"How do you know her?" I asked after a few moments of silence. Carlisle looked up at me hopefully, but I kept my eyes on my lap.
"I treated her for a broken leg a few years ago, back in Columbus. It was my last day as an ER doctor," he explained, his voice sounding just as disappointed as before until he mentioned the ER. "Edward and I had been there for a few years already, but when I saw Esme, I was ready to stay just to make sure she didn't get hurt again."
"But you left anyway?" I pressed, trying to distract him from questioning me.
"Yes, I left to make sure Edward would not be in danger. What about you? What are you thinking about that you are trying to avoid talking about?" I gave my lap a small smile. Busted.
"I'm not staying, that's all," I whispered. "I don't want either of you to get the impression that I'll be staying with you from now on. I can't, not with people coming after me like they did yesterday. The less contact I have with others, the safer they'll be."
"I disagree, Isabella," he immediately responded. "We can't help but know you, and we will still know you even if you are not around. You can't undo meeting us, and we won't let you. You might think we will be in less danger, but I know you will be in more. Pushing away those who would fight with and for you will only hurt them and yourself."
I was shaking my head half way through his speech, but I was struck by a vision before I could voice my feelings. The last thing I heard was Carlisle gasping in shock and Hermes squawk and flare up in distress. The whoosh and heat of his flames melted away, bringing the vision from a bright red wall to a street bathed in darkness and the full moon's glare.
The sidewalks were empty but for one tall young woman dressed in a long coat ending just past her knees. Her bright blond hair spilled over her shoulders, and when she raised her sharp blue eyes from the ground, I was floored by her beauty. For someone clearly human, she was inhumanly beautiful.
"Rosalie, what are you doing out so late?" a male voice called from behind me. I couldn't turn around to see him, but from the number of footsteps, he was not alone.
Rosalie's face turned to hatred and anger as she watched the man and his group, but her forcibly straight back and shoulders, as well as her stance, showed the fear she had for this man. She knew him, but I wasn't sure of how.
"What I do is none of your business, Royce," she spat, crossing her arms over her chest.
"It is as long as you bear the name King," his voice rumbled. He walked by me and towards Rosalie, along with two other men. All of them were relatively tall and broad, but not very muscular. The group smelled of expensive alcohol, and their steps showed it. Rosalie was intimidated by them, that much was obvious, but she stood her ground.
"I would gladly get rid of it," she said with a sneer.
"That's too bad because the King doesn't let go of what's his, not as long as he's alive or it is." He stumbled as he stepped up to Rosalie, drifting off to one side. "And you, my little woman, will never be free of me."
The vision skipped from scene to scene after that, but I understood what happened, as appalling as the men's actions were. I was shown flashes of Rosalie, her face scrunched up in agony and terror, and Royce slamming her against the side of a building. The men were laughing in each of the scenes, even in the last where they left Rosalie in an alley. Her body was scratched and broken, a slowly growing puddle of blood by her head. She was barely alive as they walked away, unconcerned with anyone finding out what atrocity they had done.
Another flare of light and heat erased the image of Rosalie's broken form from my mind, but I could feel it waiting to attack me again. My eyes were burning, and my stomach was churning from what I had seen. Carlisle was calling to me, trying to get me to talk, but I couldn't get anything out past my groans and cries of pain.
I felt like someone was stabbing my eyes with something extremely hot. I tried to wipe at them, tried to do anything to make the burning stop, but nothing worked. My hands were suddenly pulled away from my face, but my protest was cut off as freezing cold hands replaced mine with a sharp but painless zap. The heels of Edward's hands were against my eyes, and his fingers covered my temples. At that point, I wasn't worried about him getting too close. I couldn't let him move away, not when he was making the pain go away. I grabbed his hands, covering their coolness with my feverish heat, and my body slumped into the couch with a relieved cry.
"Breathe, Isabella," he whispered. Even his breath was cool, washing over my face as he spoke. "You're okay now, just breathe."
He started humming as Carlisle moved me so that I was laying on my back. Edward sat next to me, not moving his hands from my face as my chest heaved. My breath was finally slowing down, but my mouth was dry from my cries. I could hear someone moving around and a faucet being turned on, but I focused on the coolness of Edward's hands on my face. The temperature difference between his skin and my own was amazing, and a reminder of my previous thoughts.
"Here, Isabella, drink this," Carlisle said, interrupting me before I could spiral into my argument again. Edward shifted as Carlisle propped me up, and I grabbed his hands to keep them still.
"I'm not going anywhere, Isabella. Let us make you more comfortable. Relax," he said, but I didn't let go.
His hands moved over my eyes, turning until his fingers replaced his palms. He then moved from the couch and sat behind me, and Carlisle let me recline until I was leaning against Edward's chest. I tensed when one of Edward's legs ended up between my side and the couch, but Edward hushed me before I could say anything.
"You're feverish, Isabella. Edward will help bring down your temperature," Carlisle explained, something pressing against my bottom lip. "Sip."
The water was cool as it travelled down my throat, but it made the heat in my eyes feel even hotter. I sputtered and started coughing from the sudden increase in pain, and Carlisle immediately took the cup away.
"Breathe, Bella, take a good breath and swallow," he said, and I did. I calmed down quickly as Carlisle wiped the water from my face. I felt a little annoyed that I couldn't do it myself, that he didn't ask, but I kept quiet.
"Are you okay, Edward?" he asked, but I couldn't see his face with Edward's hands still over my eyes.
"Yes, I'm fine," Edward answered, his voice a little tight. His chest wasn't moving with that fake breathing he and Carlisle made a habit of.
"Wha-What happened? What's . . . wrong?" I asked, struggling to control my mouth.
"You started bleeding from your eyes during your vision," Carlisle explained calmly. "I was making sure Edward was okay with being so close to it."
"Oh, you don't have to—" I said, starting to pull his hands away by his wrists, but he shushed me.
"I'm fine, Isabella, really," he said, but I wasn't convinced.
"I'm okay now, Edward. You can let go, and I'll clean up. I don't want you to be uncomfortable in your own home because of me. Someone should probably check on Esme, anyway," I reasoned, and he hesitated before removing his hands and helping me back into a sitting position on the couch.
I could feel his hands hovering over my shoulders as I opened my eyes, and everything in front of me was blurry and bathed in deep red. I closed my eyes again and rubbed them, trying to clear them, and my vision was a little less red when I opened them again. Carlisle appeared in front of me with a small bowl of water and a damp cloth, kneeling on the floor.
"Close 'em," he said softly, with a small smile on his face, and I did as he asked.
Carlisle gently wiped away the blood on my face, one hand holding my chin and the other holding the cloth. He touched my eyelids, cheeks, and jawline before lightly tapping my cheek with his hand. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands before opening them again, groaning loudly when everything was still tinted pink.
"What's wrong, Isabella?" Carlisle asked, his eyebrows creasing in worry as Edward walked back into the room with a cup in his hands.
"Everything's pink," I whined, letting my head fall back. The men were silent for a moment before they started laughing.
"Well, I guess that's okay," Carlisle said amidst his chuckles.
"I hate pink."
"Then maybe it's not."
"Not at all."
Edward handed me the cup, still smiling, and took a step back. He looked a little less tense than before, and his hands were hanging loosely at his sides. He watched intently as I drank from the teacup, closing my eyes for a moment at the taste. When I looked at him again, he had turned away.
"Isabella, if I may ask, what was that vision about?" Carlisle asked, and I sighed softly, looking down into my cup.
"My next victim, I guess. A woman in Rochester, New York, will be beaten and raped by her drunk husband and two of his just-as-drunk friends. They'll leave her for dead in a puddle of her own blood."
"You must be joking," Edward said, and I shook my head.
"These are the things I see, Edward. I saw Carlisle attacked by a vampire and almost killed. I saw your family die. I saw Esme jump. I saw another man stabbed by a bayonet during the Civil War. I saw a young girl thrown into an asylum by her own father because she saw that someone was going to die. I have yet to have a happy or even emotionally neutral vision in the three hundred years I've been alive," I explained, staring at the floor in front of me.
"That's why you won't let anyone in . . . you think you'll see them get hurt if you do," he whispered, and I shrugged.
"See them get hurt, cause them to be hurt . . . You know someone is after me. You saw it yesterday. I don't know who it is, but I won't risk giving them leverage by letting myself get close to people. Being as close to Carlisle as I am is dangerous."
He started to say something else, but I stood up and walked down to Esme's room, sitting down next to her with a sigh. She looked agitated, so much so that I almost didn't want to give her anything else to worry about, but I had to say it.
"I'm sorry, Esme," I whispered, leaning forward and staring down at my hands. "I'm sorry I didn't help you. I'm sorry I didn't stop you. I'm sorry I don't know why this had to happen. I'm sorry I didn't help your son." I paused, squeezing my eyes shut and pushing my fists against them.
"I'm sorry I told the vampire to attack Mary Alice. I'm sorry I didn't stop Jasper Whitlock's fight before he was stabbed. I'm sorry I let Edward's family die of that disease and didn't help him get better . . . I'm sorry I watched Carlisle be attacked before I tried to help him, I'm sorry I had all of them changed, I'm sorry I killed that witch girl in Carolina instead of trying to help her first. I knew it was wrong of me, I knew she couldn't be healed. I know all of them had to be changed. I know it. I regret letting it happen. I wish it hadn't. I wish I knew why it had to happen," I rambled, my hands turning into and digging into my scalp.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
And then I ran.