Disclaimer: Twilight and all its Twi-ness? Not mine.

Happy March!

My apologies for disappearing in February. I had a double wisdom tooth extraction on Valentine's Day—SUPER fun!—and the recovery was long, intense, and painful. Now I'm fighting that weird body ache/fatigue thing again, but the first draft of my second novel is with my prereaders, so I've got about a month to do nothing but Fic.

Which gives me time to write the last chapter and epilogue to this story.

This has been a wild, exciting ride for me, and this story is my second-favorite thing I've ever written (Black Ice is still first...I think). So sharing this final chapter is difficult and bittersweet. But it's time to let my precious RedEyedEd go, so I will do so now... trembling, uncertain, and terrified.

Much like my precious Edward is right now.

Longest chapter so far, I think. I hope you enjoy it.


(Oh, and here's the end of Ch27 to jog your memory)

From the end of Chapter 27:

"Do you see what I have become?" I scream into the silence. "Is this the man to whom you planned to return? Or was that too a lie?"

I wait for her previous apparition to return and defend her, but once again, she disappoints.

"Nothing to say? No snarky comments or platitudes left to share? Or are you simply too busy with Charlie to care about what you've done to me?"

My voice cracks, and I shut my eyes against the returning sting of sadness.

"Isabella..." I cover my mouth, ashamed of my neediness. "I can't...I cannot do this. I don't know what you wanted from me, why you insisted on learning me and wanting me..."

"You are so beautiful," she whispered. "Like a work of art...Those soulful eyes and strong jaw..." Her lazy gaze ghosted over my face, dropping to my lips. "And, God, that mouth..."

I drag a hand down my face, brushing my fingertips over my lips. The memory of her kiss burns me there, and I let myself be consumed by the flames, wondering if they could turn me into ash and carry me away.

It would be better than living without her.

"You're not 'letting' me die, Edward." She set our entwined fingers atop her breast. "Whether I live, how I live and for whom I live is my choice. And I chose my fate before I ever laid eyes on you."

"Whether I live, how I live and for whom I live is my choice..."

"My choice..."

That sense of incompletion I felt in Jamie's apartment comes roaring back to mind, and I gasp at its return.

"It is ridiculous that He could let me curse him to the fiery pits of hell and not hold it against me. Ridiculous that someone could love me enough to take my pain and give me peace. Ridiculous that someone could replace my anger and angst about James and replace it with a love that defies logic and eclipses earthly reason."

"At least that part is true."

"Edward, I know this sounds crazy, and well, maybe I am." She met my eyes suddenly. "But do you...do you ever wonder what it would be like to live without that weight?"

I looked at her. "What weight?"

"Your anger at the world, your guilt about the people you murdered, your shame about your current occupation." She came toward me. "Your loneliness and sense of futility, your sadness about those you have loved and lost..."

"No." The word stopped her in her tracks. "It is useless to wonder about things you cannot change."

"But you can change it, Edward! And that...that weight is what He saved me from." That beatific light shone in her eyes again. "Receiving His love lifted all that weight from my heart and let me breathe again, feel something other than wretched and wrecked again. Because hating James didn't change James; it nearly killed me! He is out in the world right now, living his life as if I were never in it. I nursed that rage day after miserable day, and what happened? James lived unaffected, and I was the one drowning..."

James is dead...killed by these very hands...yet am I not still drowning? And though it has been not an hour since his death, am I not already weary of that weight?

I rub my chest, finding no relief.

"But what can I do about it?" I ask aloud. "What could I possibly do about it now?"

With sudden, shocking clarity, a forsaken image rises in my mind, and the weight in my chest noticeably recedes for the first time since Jamie's death. Though confused by its connection to my current situation, I hold fast to the image, allowing the feelings it inspires, and surprisingly the fog clears.

For better or worse, I know what I must do. And I can only hope it will be enough.


The Last Word – 28

My trek is slow and arduous, made doubly so as I am navigating based on memory only. There is no one to whom I might appeal to help me reach my destination, no one with any interest in my whereabouts at all.

But under present circumstances, that is for the best.

My mind whirs and worries about what I will find upon my arrival, and I let it run, seeing little sense in trying to prevent the exercise. The shame of my recent activities comes as expected, bringing with it an avalanche of additional regret from other parts of my past. This, too, I allow, wanting the full measure of mental malaise at work while taking this action.

For if it fails, it will not be for any lack of preparedness on my part.

This area is colder than I remember, the tumultuous terrain less forgiving. Vampires change but rarely, so our ability to detect the slightest shift around us is unusually heightened. And were I to close my eyes, I would see everything here as it once was, everyone who then existed. I swallow hard as the thoughts flood my mind, trembling a bit as the most egregious of the lot linger behind my lids.

No matter. This is why I came.

I come to a stop in the middle of a barren field, my boots sinking into the slushy snow. There is no need to look around—I know she's here. And even if her thoughts hadn't betrayed her a half-mile ago, I can feel her rage as she rushes me from behind.

She pins me to the ground with a sharp knee in the back, pulling my arms behind me for good measure.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" she growls.

"I want to talk to..."

"Your wants, your needs." She presses her knee deeper, and I feel my vertebrae crack. "Have you ever thought about anything else?"

"Irina..."

"Don't you dare speak my name! You haven't the right."

"I'm sorry."

"You should be," she sneers. "But as you'll soon see, you haven't even begun to be sorry."

"Well, well..." The husky voice comes from my right, and I will myself not to tremble. "What have you caught yourself, sister?"

Irina tightens her grip on my arms. "The prodigal pissant has returned."

Kate gasps. "It's a Christmas miracle."

"But it's the middle of the summer."

She cracks her knuckles on a chuckle. "Hence, the miracle."

"Why, sister, where are your manners?" Irina asks slyly. "You have not given him a proper greeting."

"Have I not?" Kate drops to a crouch in front of me, her full lips turned up in a sadistic smile. "How rude of me."

I shut my eyes against the expected onslaught, but the electric shock coursing through my veins is strong enough to make me cry out. My eyes roll in their sockets as Kate grips both sides of my head, the laughter she shares with Irina somehow worth the pain.

"Does it hurt?" Irina asks, her voice curling beside my ear. "Does it make you wish you were dead?"

"God, I hope so," Kate replies for me, as the agony she inflicts allows me only to grunt. "It is the least he deserves."

"Kate!" comes the sharp rebuke above me. "What is the meaning of this?"

Kate does not slack her attack. "Is it not obvious?"

"Tanya!" Irina blurs to her oldest sister, practically dancing with glee. "We've finally got him, sister!"

"So I see." Tanya's voice is startlingly even. "Has he spoken?"

Kate squeezes my head. "No."

"Nor would we care to listen if he did," Irina adds.

Tanya shakes her head. "This is beneath us."

"And beneath us is where he belongs!"

Irina steps on my hand to punctuate her point, and I howl in pain, causing her and Kate to laugh even louder. The plan was to come here and face their wrath in its fullest measure, but as I have not had anyone to drink in days, my resolve to finish what I've started is weak.

And weakening further with every shock Kate sends through my body.

"What is your business here?" Tanya demands of me.

I try to reply, but her sister's assaults render me unintelligible.

"See?" Irina digs her heel into my hand. "He has no words to explain himself."

"And if he did, we could not understand them with the two of you at work." Tanya sighs and looks up. "Kate..."

Shock ripples through Kate, magnifying my pain. "No."

"Sister..."

"Don't 'sister' me! After what he did to the both of you? To our relationship with Carlisle?" The mention of his name causes me a very different sort of pain, and I groan aloud. "He deserves death."

"Tanya, please!" Irina takes her sister's hands. "Do not let him get away with it."

"I am doing no such thing," Tanya replies wearily. "But he knows what he did, and he came here anyway. Do we not owe it to ourselves to discover why?"

Irina and Kate are silent above me, and from the tenor of their thoughts, I fear one of them may just cut off my head and end the matter altogether.

"Kate," Tanya says. "Please."

With muttered curses in their native tongue, Kate shoves me away with a kick to the ribs. Irina laughs, and Tanya can only nod.

As I amble to my feet, I turn slowly to face the three sisters. Though their physical differences make them easily distinct from one another, the look in their eyes is identical.

I need to make my point and fast.

"Thank you for..."

Kate folds her arms. "Spare us the niceties. Why have you come?"

"Did Carlisle send you?" Tanya asks. "Is he the reason you're here?"

I toe the ground with my boot. "Yes."

Irina steps forward. "How is he? Will he be coming too?"

I shake my head. "Uh, no. He won't."

Irina huffs. "I knew it! He's ashamed to face us after what you did and thinks we don't want to be associated with him anymore."

"That is what she said," Kate mutters under her breath.

"But she didn't mean forever, did you, Tanya?" Irina turns to her sister. "You were just mad and doing what was best for us, but it's okay now! So tell Edward that he can tell Carlisle to come back. That he's welcome whenever he wants."

Tanya doesn't reply, and in the silence, I force myself to meet her gaze. And when I do, she gasps, covering her mouth with both hands. "Oh my god."

"What?" Irina asks.

Tanya holds my gaze, shaking her head. "No..."

Kate folds her arms. "Tanya, what has gotten into you?"

Tanya closes her eyes, her hands still covering her mouth. "He's gone."

"What?" her sisters cry together.

"Carlisle." Tanya drops her hands to her sides, her gaze hardening. "He's dead, isn't he?"

I do not blink. "Yes."

Irina falls to the ground. "No!"

Kate's arms are instantly around her sister, her golden eyes watery as she rocks Irina's shuddering body. "I've got you."

"Kate, get her out of here," Tanya whispers.

"Noooo!" Irina howls as Kate's grip locks around her body. "I want to know why! I demand to know why!"

"Now, Kate!" Tanya snaps.

Kate looks at me, her thoughts loud and clear. "Haven't you done enough?"

"I'm sorry," I say aloud, but Kate rolls her eyes and speeds away with Irina. The silence between Tanya and me is messy and thick, but I have no right to break it. Her mind is blank, and I should not be surprised that she would insulate herself from my gift.

I deserve no advantage here.

Tanya tilts her head back and forth, humming a complicated aria. I have seen her do this before—before, in fact, she expelled my sire and me from her sight—so I realize this is her way of taking a deep breath.

"Carlisle is dead?" she asks.

"Yes."

"When?"

The question surprises me. "Um, what year is this?"

She snorts in annoyance. "Really?"

"I have marked the passing of time quite differently of late." I look down. "But I would guess, to answer your question, that he has been... that is, it happened 50 years ago."

"Oh." She folds in on herself but does not break. "How?"

"He was chasing me, literally around the world, trying to get me to change my ways, and I refused. After some time, he found me on the brink of death in the clutches of Crazy Jane and asked her to release me to his paternal custody. And she agreed."

I falter at the end, and Tanya steps closer. "And?"

"And as Carlisle was walking toward me, she announced that someone had to pay for my sins and cho—chopped his head off."

Tanya's voice trembles. "Why didn't you stop her?"

"Because I was too focused on what Carlisle was shouting at me in his mind."

"Which was?"

"That he was here and would always protect me. That all would be well." My hands clench into fists despite my resolve to stay calm. "His words made no sense, and I was so angry with him for wasting them on me that I didn't think about Jane until it was too late."

"I see. So your recklessness killed him?"

I stuff my hands in my pockets. "Is there any other way to see it?"

"Is there not?" She turns away in silence, shaking her head. "Why did you come here?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You could have sent us this news anonymously or via telegram from anywhere in the world." Her back is still to me. "So why did you choose to tell me face-to-face?"

"Because... because you deserve no less."

Tanya nods, but I hear the hitch in her breathing as the first tears fall. I shove my hands in my pockets, knowing I have no right to comfort her. Her shoulders shake, her cries grow louder, and I stand there and swallow her grief.

It is the least I can do.

I expect her sisters to return, but they stay away, and I think that's for the best. Whatever is happening between Tanya and me is controlled, measured, and the addition of her sisters would only complicate matters in a way that would only hurt the three of them.

And I have caused enough discord among them for a lifetime.

She sniffles and straightens her back, facing me with clasped hands. "He loved you."

My shock is so severe she may as well have slapped me. "What?"

"Carlisle." She swipes her cheeks, a leftover human habit. "He loved you."

I shut my eyes and hang my head. "Yes."

"Why?"

I shake my head, unable to form words. Her observation breaks me open—for its truth and impossible mention in this terrible conversation—and I would collapse in a heap if not for the fear of forcing her to comfort me.

"Why is he upright, sister?" Kate soon arrives from the west, and I turn slightly away to hide my face. "Surely you could have felled him by now."

"Yes." Tanya's voice is devoid of inflection. "But I have yet to decide if that is wise."

Disappointment and disgust war in Kate's mind. "He affects you still?"

"Yes." Her tone warms almost imperceptibly. "But not the way you think."

"I think I have had enough of him and that Irina will never speak to you again if he remains here much longer." Kate spits in my general direction. "Please be done sooner than later."

"I will."

"And if he says anything of consequence about Carlisle, do let me know."

"I will."

"Beat it out of him if you must."

"I heard you. Now leave us," Tanya says with more authority. "We are nearly done."

A rush of wind carries Kate away, and I face Tanya with wide eyes. "Why didn't you share the details about Carlisle?"

"Sometimes the truth causes more harm than good." She smooths an errant blonde curl back into place. "And she has encountered enough pain for one day."

"You all have. And it is my deepest wish to end that pain for good."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." I take a tentative step forward, encouraged when she does not retreat. "There is another reason I came today, a question I need to ask, and I ask you to hear me out before you answer."

Her brows furrow, and she folds her arms. "As you wish."

I sigh in relief, closing my eyes. "I was an executioner at a stateside prison when she walked into my chamber..."

*** the last word ***

I tell Tanya everything.

About Isabella, her life, her story and how it intersected with mine.

I tell her how I felt, what I did, and what I have lost in the wake of Isabella's absence.

I tell her about Jamie and Vicki and how I danced in their blood.

And with halting, trembling breath, I tell her what I want.

Tanya listens without comment, eyes widening and hands clenching at turns. I barely meet her gaze as I talk, equally afraid of censure and sympathy. Though nothing matters more than her granting my request, should she refuse, I know there is a more sinister way to secure her cooperation.

But I hope it does not come to that.

"And this..." Tanya swallows past her emotions to finally speak again. "This is what you want?"

"Yes."

She shakes her head. "How can you ask that of me?"

"With all things considered, I suppose I thought you the best person to ask."

"But I..." She turns sharply away, incredulity informing her movements. "I cannot possibly do that."

"Because you don't think I deserve it?"

"Because I'm simply not capable of it." She throws up her hands and faces me. "And I cannot imagine what I would have done in the past to convince you otherwise."

"On the contrary, it is only my conduct I have considered." Shame colors my words. "Surely you can believe that."

Her lips part to reply, but she shuts them again, the walls of her mind dropping in surprise. She wants to talk to her sisters, to get their advice, but fears involving them in so unusual a situation. Their judgment would wound her too deeply.

"I am sorry," I say at length. "Perhaps I was foolish to believe this would be an easy thing for you to do."

"What would he say?" she asks. "What would Carlisle say if he knew what you were asking?"

I meet her eyes. "I think we both know the answer to that."

She holds my gaze unblinking, only looking away when her eyes begin to glaze over with unsheddable tears. "Yes, I suppose we do."

Tanya paces in front of me, her eyes on the horizon. The sun is fading from view, casting her in an ethereal glow. It is as if she is on fire because my words have set her ablaze.

"About a year after you left, I took a permanent lover," she says almost to herself. "Benjamin."

I don't know what to say and am unsure if a reply is even necessary.

"He was kind and gentle and the opposite of you in so many ways." She chuckles. "I thought him the perfect choice and expected us to love and lead together for the rest of time.

"But after only a few months together, his presence nearly tore our coven apart. Kate wanted to kill him, and Irina tried to on several occasions." She looks at me. "And after running him off, I realized I was never meant to mate and need no one at my side to be complete."

I nod, still believing silence is safer.

"You didn't break me," she says. "And despite Irina's reaction today, she is stronger than ever."

"I believe you."

"So I don't need to do this for my sake."

"That's good to know." I chance the truth. "But that's only part of why I ask. And not even the greatest part."

She hides her surprise well. "I see."

Her tone makes me anxious, so I retreat a bit. "You needn't decide right now. In fact, I could..."

"That won't be necessary. In fact, I have already decided."

My heart is in my throat. "And?"

She sighs. "Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, I will do it."

Relief and terror course through me at once, and I drop to my knees, choking on the moment. Tanya neither comments nor comforts me, and I appreciate the emotional space.

"What will you tell them?" I ask at length.

She scoffs. "Does it matter?"

"I suppose not."

"And you're sure she's worth the risk?" The concern in her voice shocks me. "That He is?"

"As sure as I have ever been about anything." I meet her eyes. "It is as Carlisle once said, 'We are nothing without someone to love.' And I wish to be with they who love me."

Tanya stares at me a long time. "I can respect that."

"Thank you. And I..." I hold out my hand to her. "I am sorry for what I did to you, Irina, and your family."

"I know." She looks down at my hand but does not take it. "I would not do this for any less."

I turn and take painful, measured steps away from her, uncertain of where or how far I'm going. I clear my mind of everything but the peace of knowing I have done what I came to do and it will soon be over.

To hopefully begin again.

At long last, I come to a place where I am ready to stop walking. I drop to my knees, clasp my hands in front of me, and hang my head.

"Thank you," I whisper again.

Tanya answers me in her mind. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yes," I reply aloud. "Please."

"Very well." She expels a heavy breath and takes off at a slow jog to catch up to me. Judging by her speed and the time it takes her to reach me, I have walked further than I thought.

As she comes closer, she calls out, "Any last words?"

I look up to the darkening sky, feeling a deep peace settle into my soul. "I am coming to you, My Lord and Father. As I receive your forgiveness, receive me now. Isabella, I hope you're right."

I hang my head once more, and a moment before Tanya reaches me, I hear her say, "Goodbye, Edward."

I wince as her arctic hands cradle my head and twist it clean off, interrupting my final thought.

Then there is nothing.

Blissful, peaceful nothing.

That is, until I open my eyes.

And then, suddenly, there is everything.


Well... that's the last chapter. Epilogue to follow in a week or so. What do you think?