Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. But Starched Shirt Edward, Jugurtha, the O'Sheas, Sister Claire, Horatio, Grace, Jericho, Skeevy, Violet Gorgon, Eve, FitzCarrion, FitzCorpse, and FitzCadaver, FitzSinister, FitzLuck, Young To Me Old Power, and Aaron are mine. So there.

Many thanks to VJGM for being my validating beta. And a generally amazing person. Starched Shirt Edward is blowing kisses at you.

Thanks as well to Fantasy Mother for her beta skills. Jugurtha gave you his best leer.

This goes out to : Mutt N. Feathers, Pamela J. Austin, Cullen Pearl (ZOMG), Miss Poison, Gwen69,PurpleMadDragon, Queen-Cocaine, Codelina, Mizra, Forest Sentry Koneji, Belle10108, CindyWindy, Virdis73, Angelbach, Luv4edwardcullen, Fanfictionreader83, pomme_de_terre, pillowbiter, redsoxlove, June, oncebitten, Cullen Concession, Chloe9, dellatwi, Sariedee, Notmself, pclo, Elphabacy35, crackupmonkey, Bella S, Sheeijan, Sunshinemommy, Disney Vampire, Robs_Muse, Merrisol, Sweetswirlypop, lisamackb, twimomgina, and Bkwrm. Thanks for being my muses and supporting this story.


Heart of Darkness Part Twenty-Five: Technically I Did Not Sleep With Her on the First Date

Starched Shirt Edward seethed in a steely voice, "You just gave away your location. Move. And be silent."

Jugurtha did not like someone stepping in on matters of predatory prowess and gently said, "With our dear little one in his arms he's already giving away his location. That's why you're going to place her in that crevice right over there using your wolf powers and top vampire speed and shield it. Now. No one would expect you to leave her."

I descried a crevice in the wall behind me to the right. I appreciated and followed his counsel and literally stuffed my sleeping thanks to me girlfriend into what appeared to be a hand-carved crevice absent of algae like a rag doll.

For a brief moment, her body warming the stone resembled a mortal interred in a mausoleum. I thought it would irritate the enemy to act unaffected, despite the mental histrionics. And I most definitely added in an extra invisible rampart or two to her already existing ones. I had intended for them to be invisible - my powers that is. Well invisible for all of thirty seconds before my temper got the best of me and they roared to life, before I quashed it again and went into wolf stealth mode. Moving constantly, quietly by immortal standards, I blasted my way seven feet to the left and forty feet to below on ground level.

Starched Shirt Edward began to grate, although he did have a point and as her welfare was at stake, physical and spiritual, Jugurtha and my two votes overruled Starched Shirt Edward's having a role in the battle planning. He babbled, "You're using our dear little one as a mortal distraction." And he was totally right and I had absolutely no problem with it. War was hell. And so was I. And no one was going to touch her anyway because I had control.

Starched Shirt Edward was fore with ordered to pray to Saint George, the patron saint of soldiers. Post haste. He and I had pettifogged for years about whether or not I should have fought in the Great War. He preferred violence only be used in religious contexts primarily for the removal of Satan, and occasionally for the protection of our little bottle cap. Personally, I didn't think praying to Saint George would prove beneficial since he was also the patron saint of archers, boy scouts, farmers, field workers, butchers, horses, those who enjoyed riding horses, those who made saddles for horses, and sufferers of plague, leprosy, and syphilis. Saint George was a busy dead man. Particularly with all the victims of syphilis. Not to mention 4,411,903 current members of the Boy Scouts in America that chattered at him. But it kept Starched Shirt Edward mumbling in Latin leaving us in peace to fight for our lives. And that of our dear little one.

But. This was so not fair. Wasn't I supposed to be chained to a log with a circular saw cheerily chomping through a tree trunk getting closer to my feet every second while the black garbed top hat adorned villains twirled their mustaches and rubbed their palms together in glee? I could handle peril like that. But threatening my singer twice in but a few days? And sticking her in a cave with fungi? And dust mites? And glow in the dark algae that had God knows what effect on her after being tinkered with by Liam - her definitely demented Great Uncle? When I was only just now getting myself resituated in the not passing out or vomiting department and being able to tune out the raging migraines the power use generated? The world was certainly not overrun with justice. As the beleaguered anti-hero in this scenario, I was officially filing a complaint with the cosmos, I thought, as I frantically scanned the darkness around me.

In Ancient Rome when legions mutinied, the military leaders executed every tenth soldier, hence the term "decimate" came to be, an orderly sort of permanently firing disgruntled employees in the fullest sense of that term. As time had passed, its meaning evolved from killing every tenth man to merely wiping all of them out, leaving not a trace. I had every intention of using the new context of decimate, although the first one wouldn't hurt in a pinch. Finding someone to slay in the middle of all that glowing business proved challenging. As my appropriately masculine and, might I add, intimidating sounding roar of outrage ended, I could sense their presence. I reached out with my senses to see if I was surrounded by the not smelling but physically present and ready to slaughter me red-eyed people. Or the normal smelling but still prepared to mete out mayhem red-eyed people. But I couldn't see them or locate them by scent. Their spiritual presence was an entirely other matter. I had felt something. And now my vocal cords hurt. Along with my head. Although neither really mattered at present. Only she did. It would be bad if I had accidentally channeled Starched Shirt Edward and become a petrified paralogizer. He was so scared he didn't give his usual, "I heard that."

Initially, I had sensed another presence. Then my powers had triggered, and I had given the aforementioned masculine enough to be intimidating roar. Yet I stared around a dank multi-colored glowing cavern and failed to find legions of red-eyed or any-eyed immortals. Lovely.

It would be mortifying if I interrupted my first date with this stunning woman by whining for my family to come assist me in battle against, well, nothing. And if that happened, it would be awkward explaining to my singer once I woke her up that she was fine despite that whole losing consciousness due to her over-reactive rat bastard of a boyfriend part, and we should continue on with our romantic excursion so I could gather more data for the committee I'd dubbed the Grouchy Geezers and Geezerettes. She could sleep later. And I could not detect the distinct energy signature of the Violet Gorgon's presence. So that was one thing in my favor. I spoke too soon. I felt this push as an invisible barrier tried to yank me forward away from her.

Extending my senses, Grace and I scoured the cave. We'd all felt two spirits. They felt "old" like the Gorgon, even worse. I'd managed to mentally contact my surveilling siblings simultaneously from down here without using Hezekiah's stick although not with anything beyond the mental yelp that signified I'd run into a wee bit of trouble. I could hear their thoughts but my head hurt too much to try to respond which worried them even more. And I'd have to remember to laugh later at how they had all shrieked and turned hissing and spitting because I'd put a bit too much energy into that thought I'd directed to them and had unintentionally electrically shocked them all. Oh the fun I planned on having. If I lived through the next thirty seconds. Mike Newton would never see me coming. And Jacob Black would find an entirely new appreciation of the term magnetism. His father, too. The fun I could have since he sat in a metal wheelchair.

There was nothing to be panicked about, just because I couldn't find the spirits I'd sensed earlier. I knew my family was on their way, storming Liam's security system. Mordantly, I wondered if Jasper keyed in the wrong digit in that ridiculously long entry code if a huge spiked ball would come out of the ceiling, or better yet, a trap door appear at his feet sending him to a pit filled with crocodiles. He'd love that. And he'd eat the crocodiles. He was whining the other day about needing a new pair of cowboy boots.

Jugurtha said, "Hey hotshot! Snark later, focus on staying undead and perspiring at present, grasshopper." I did not perspire. Much. I sniffed just in case. See? No sweat. Not from me.

"We need to get our dear little one last rites! And have her recite an Act of Contrition! Why couldn't I have found a vampire priest sooner!" Starched Shirt Edward had decided we were going to die. Jugurth open palm slapped him across the face for me as I was presently occupied not sniffing myself but most assiduously sniffing my singer above me. That seemed to do the trick.

"Old ones." Grace pronounced through our mental link. See, I wasn't out of my head.

"Malevolent?" I asked her staring into the inky crevices around me; the only sound the crackle and pop of the Quileute flames in my right hand, my girlfriend's respiration, and the languid dripping of water. Perhaps Liam was right to have all those weapons handy. Not that they'd actually helped him at all, the Achilles of Forks. But still. I felt something probing at the edges of my power. Cautiously.

"Not know." Grace sounded mournful.

I tried to reverse the tactic I'd done with the Gorgon, when I'd stared at my girlfriend's body – not in an improper sense, mind you, to discover the spirit within – the possessed spirit within. Only this time I took in the space before me, rather than the woman snoring like a vacuum cleaner above me. Behold, two souls hovered warily; one to my far left the other to my far right. The Far Right column faced my snuffling singer's den. Far Right Spirit would have to get through me to reach her, however, so I didn't mind his or her regard. My singer was supernaturally attractive. I understood their appropriate from 25 feet away appreciation of us both. They didn't appear to be angry, but they were poised to strike, and acted unaware of my observation. Cruel wench Lady Fate then decided I didn't have enough to do already and piled on more entertainment. My wolf senses discerned others coming from the narrow cave to my left that led to the Pacific. At least six by the feel of things. I couldn't hear physical feet falling or clothes moving through air or detect any unique scent. But somehow I knew they were there. My wolf powers said so. And Grace said they did not realize I saw them. Increasing my draw of power from the earth around me, I concentrated further and peeling back a layer of power managed to see what the closest ones looked like in physical appearance.

A dark blonde female with long plaited hair crouched on one side and was the Far Left Spirit. She wore a grey tunic and pants and boots that appeared hand made. Not the Italian-cobbler 3,000 a pair type of hand made. Her spirit flared and I couldn't tell her eye color as blindingly white rays were in its place. On the other side of the cave skulked a thin short-haired Asian male, wiry in build but definitely one to watch, attired in an identical outfit with the same eye glowing problem. How curious. Both were armed. With swords I could only see using my gifts. Neither had drawn a blade although both had their hands resting on the hilts, like a gunfighter in those trite movies filmed in Italy Mary Alice adored.

"Grace, I can see them." My headache started pounding and I decided it wouldn't be a fierce show of force if I vomited into the pool of non-odorous plant life. Their bodies disappeared to reveal columns that were almost as black as Jasper's soul. Far Left was the lightest in color and Far Right Mr. Rabblerouser most definitely came close to matching my brother in the darkness of his soul. Both of them unlike my brother were without the portion of white that he had possessed. And that wasn't good news for me if Starched Shirt Edward's theory about the white representing goodness. Fine. They had a few white specks here and there. Nothing like his white area. Which made them scarier. And for half a second I confess I wondered if I was going to see him get beat. I worried for him. Just not for me. I had, after all, triumphed over the prissy manner-challenged Violet Gorgon. How hard could this be? The six sets of feet silently stomping in the distance at vampire speed suggested I had two seconds to gird myself for unexpected immortal spiritual guests. Didn't anyone call anymore? Show manners? Supernaturally speaking, of course? What were they going to do, hurl insults at me in Oscan? Threaten my family? Criticize my wardrobe? Demand I get a haircut? Give me a worse headache? Wait. Scratch that.

I asked Grace through our link, "Do you sense more company arriving?" The Eight we had to deal with presently was going to be an unfair fight, after all. I was going to wait for them to have comrades to feel they had an even shot at glory. The spirits seemed to be sniffing at me and apparently I stank. And when they took note of my glowing scarred palms they recoiled. I couldn't capture the images of their physical bodies any longer. I was stuck with the colored columns. I reached out for Grace to see if she understood why I couldn't detect faces. That irritated me. I'd definitely seen the sneer of Violet Gorgon after considerable effort that caused nosebleeds and vomiting. I should be able to do this again since Hezekiah said my power increased with use and practice. Right?

"Talking." She indicated she was busy now.

I thought it only polite to allow my minion to converse with them provided my girlfriend was protected before I spiritually sand-blasted them from this plane of existence. It seemed fair.

"Guarding cave and room. Want know what want." That was about the time both of them started tossing balls of purple flame from hand to hand after craning their columns at my burning hand and backing away. Oh, like that was supposed to scare me? Amateurs. I decided to give them something to think about. I permitted more of the energy in my frame to show. And I might have been guilty of letting my head explode into a loadstar. Or two. The female leapt back hissing. The male appeared annoyed and I detected by the flicker of his spirit that now he was going to have to ruin his day by attempting to dismember me. As if. Then the six spiritual dwarfs came whistling into the room, minds worrying about their friends. Fine, they weren't dwarfs. But they scurried in formation just like them on the movie that Rosalie liked to watch with my girlfriend. And since I now had a larger audience I called from the earth more power and made sure to have the flames crackle and look like waving snakes with spitting venom, sharp fangs, and appropriate looking forked tongues. I could do Violet Gorgon better than Violet Gorgon could. Just watch me. Wench. Her, not you.

All that I needed to do was spit in that weirdly-accented Oscan and behave like an outraged artist in the middle of a hissy fit. Glancing at her from the corner of my eyes, the fireflies of power were acting like an upright mattress for my singer. She snuffled and shifted in her sleep. Which caught everyone's attention. Particularly the scrunching her nose and feeling around the ledge with her palm as if she searched for me. That was about the time they saw her palms, too shining like a watchtower.

Jugurtha asked if I would be taking that garish light display to Las Vegas with a roll of his eyes. He said we needed to appear meaner not like Liberace, as the man wasn't frightened. How he could compare me with a gaudy pianist who hid his mediocrity behind jewels and sequins was beyond me. Snakes weren't jewels. So I turned the power to stealth mode grumbling about critics.

Now I had the aggrieved party standing in formation in a semicircle before me. The columns that had come in were pitch black with a few blotches of white here and there. One had no light whatsoever and seemed to have paranormal smoke coming from it. Whatever that one had done, I didn't want to know, because he was far darker than Jasper. And all of the columns swayed like the tulips Mary Alice collected in a breeze. That's about the time they commenced to zig-zag around the room. I suppose they thought that would visually divert me.

I hated talking. So I kept quiet trying to think of the best thing to say beyond, "You're stupid. Or 'Go away whoever the blazes you are and blaze elsewhere I'm trying to do some research here. Scientific research. On algae. Seriously. And they were interrupting my attempts to engage in ground breaking in immortal history scent-antic research as well. And that was unforgivably rude. I was on a date. With her. At long last. And she was snoring through it. I didn't mind the snoring so much as the lack of quality pressed against the flesh time I could have been enjoying.

That's about the time they decided to attack me from both sides, ignoring Grace who I thought had been advocating on my behalf. I recall with a wave of each hand, creating shields that shook with the impact of each blow. Truth be told, that smarted. A lot. Particularly when they pulled out the knives and started brandishing them so close to her and sending fireballs of something painful at my blockage. The one that soared in the direction of her body aiming at my shield hit the barrier and she jumped in her sleep as if shocked before rolling over. I believe I lost my temper and let it do the talking for me in the minor key of rant. It was Violet Gorgon part two time. I shut my eyes counting to ten for patience and then threw that out the metaphorical window and bellowed, "How dare you throw power that close to my mortal bride after what you put her through! Vituperrious Animals!" I completely ignored that Grace was not human and spun from wolf power with that last taunt. She didn't seem to hold it against me. I called out to my minion requesting her to summon five or seventeen of her disreputable spirit friends to this the veritable biker bar of bad energy. And my howl of outrage sure lit a fire under my family's already fleet feet. It had felt like eternity but only thirty human seconds had passed since I'd uttered that warning. And for a single second, I could hear them.

The first of the grey tunic attired six dwarves, let's baptize him 'Dopey' argued with 'Sneezy' over whether or not I had a proper Oscan accent as it sounded too British to one of them. 'Doc' and 'Grumpy' wondered what weird being stood in front of them holding Liam's unconscious niece metaphorically speaking and now they were going to definitely have to kill me for laying a hand on her because no one had told them she was getting married or hanging around vampires considering Liam and Genevieve had made sure she didn't know their secret. 'Happy' and "Bashful" appeared to be too stupid for cognizant thought.

I was primed to strike as the doorway above me sounded and I heard the clarion calls of my rambunctious family quarreling over whether or not the lack of a keypad was a secret trap. Emmett worried I'd been hurt. Rosalie feared for me and my human. Mary Alice was irritated over that "didn't-see-this-coming" issue of hers not to mention that my first date was being interrupted which had her mad as a wet hen on my and my girlfriend's behalf. Jasper didn't think at all. He moved radiating menace. Good old-fashioned menace. Jasper didn't bother taking the ladder. Neither, for that matter, did any of my other siblings. Using safety equipment designed by a madman apparently was for sissies. They simply hurtled feet first into the dark. Emmett landed in the center of a pond of algae with a huge splash that covered the eight spirits in honey like goo. Make that molasses in January like glue. I could hear the crackling as their auras dimmed before brightening again. And four of them dropped their blades. Although not for long.

I have to admit, Jasper really did have that standing and looking scary routine down pat. He wore this mask that suggested he could sit on your throat with a vampire blade held to your neck and yawn. That worked on the spirits. And that was without him using his power. When he and I both added in our gifts we met with strong resistance, but at least it was a respectful one. Fine, they respected him more. But I confused the hell out of them so I should get points for at least that.

I couldn't seem to control my anger. I kept remembering what it felt like to have her dead body in my arms and my rage soared with no end in sight. Feeling like a thermometer that exploded when it became too hot to register, the powers in me started to hum, the earth to shiver. Then I started to shake feeling as if I was going to seize. Jasper started to say something along the lines of "knock it off," in Vano, that dialect from the Soloman Islands when it happened. My powers simply became more than I could handle. Only this time, instead of the earth moving as Jasper clapped a massive paw of tranquility across me, they simply winked out of existence. I slumped like that pasta Mother planned to cook tonight to the ground to be caught by Rosalie as Mary Alice leapt for my girlfriend. I was only out for seven seconds. And woke up with a gentle slap or five from my lovely sister who looked anything but angelic at the moment. Unless of course you compared her to Lucifer in a snit.

My nap lasted six seconds too long for Grace. As the dripping with algae crew prepared to jump like pirates boarding a sinking ship, she did the unexpected. Angry that they had not understood her messages spoken earlier, she decided they needed to learn a lesson. With a dark green explosion, she took spiritual form hovering between the gooey dwarves and me. In 1824, one scholar labeled it cephalopterus vampyrus. Someone not particularly creative had changed it's name to Manta Ray. A forty foot wide projecting cephalic fins flapping in ire Manta Ray that was a deep blue radiating surrounded by golden fire. Her whatever it was that noise was, I must confess, was far better than anything I could ever produce in terms of intimidating the enemy.

I recall hearing Emmett surface, spitting out seawater and glowing gunk repeatedly from his mouth, "Dang, that kind of tasted completely disgusting. Don't make me have to bite you to get the taste out of my mouth." Craning his neck and treading water and algae, he let out a low appreciative wolf-whistle. "Um, not you Edward's pet, I mean Miss Grace ma'am. I'd never try to bite you." He turned to the now most definitely intimidated gaggle of gogglers and said, "How do you possibly stand around here guarding something that tastes worse than a mouthful of motor oil chased by skunk blood? This is more disgusting than human food." Emmett's sense of humor and better accent than mine seemed to actually make the snarling spirits stop tossing flames and bend over laughing. With our refined sense of smell, there were some odors that bothered us more than others. We had discovered through trial and error that skunk blood was the most vile type out there. And from their laughter, so too, had these immortals.

Rosalie tapped her foot dismissively; relieved her mate was alive, yet furious that he'd lost his vampire blade in the muck. She scrunched her nose delicately and declared, "I'm so not kissing you when we get home." Then she glared at our audience. Who laughed even harder.

Grace said, "Wait. No fight." I repeated her words out loud, and introduced her, "Other Immortals meet Miss Grace, Miss Grace meet Other Immortals in Spirit Form." I emphasized that last part to my family who couldn't see a thing paranormally speaking. Grace decided to help out with that and with a flap or two lit up the spirits like rockets for all to see. Then, Grace nodded her head at them. And bless their not a thought in their brained minds, they bowed back.

"Is cold boy wonder well?" She repeated their thoughts. Fantastic. Now my enemies were checking on my welfare before dispatching me and my bride. And mocking me. And my family. Who knew? My head hurt too much to beam her thought to my family. Instead I said in Vano, "Grace is talking for and to the powers. She has requested we not fight."

Jasper said, "What are you leaving out? It could be important."

"They inquired as to the health of 'cold boy'."

Fascinated Jasper canted his head to one side and said aloud, "If this is your territory we apologize for trespassing. My brother's bride invited him to come down here. It was important to her that he see this."

"Leave sweet girl here." I said Grace's translation of their wishes in an incorrectly flat tone.

I didn't care if it appeared like I was having an argument with imaginary voices in my head. Because I kind of sort of was. In Oscan, I bellowed, "The Devil you say! She's mine!" I snapped hands twinging with now apparently fine operating power on the cave wall behind me. I wanted to fling a bolt or fifty. I must admit I felt positively twitchy, like my skin was on fire and covered by peckish ants at the same time. "And entirely too many ancient Oscan speaking immortals are drooling over her these days. That ceases now." I have no idea what motivated that to spring from my lips. Stupidity? Primitive territoriality? At the wary look from Jasper, I leapt up to her ledge and sat on it by her side, legs hanging out barrier firmly in place. I touched her to ensure her welfare, taking her hand in my own. And let my brother assume leadership as was proper.

Then like a typical woman, she had to go and upstage everyone. A shimmer of energy started at her neck at my first touch. That dratted medallion flared and lit up the entire room. The six dwarves ducked. And the bracelet around her wrist started to play a tune. I kid you not. It was a little sharp for my taste, the melody too moody. I caressed her hair, and gathered her against me, my back to the spirits.

Everyone, burning pillars of enemy spirits included, stopped menacing each other to stare at the two of us.

Rosalie muttered under her breath that she was shocked I hadn't whipped out my…..and urinated on my girlfriend to mark her as mine. That was not only disgusting, but alas, theoretically impossible, seeing as immortals did not have that particular bodily function. Besides, her current system wouldn't hold any odor so that would be not only an appallingly crude display of the manners I hadn't been raised with, but more importantly a waste of energy. Although we had other bodily functions and fluids I certainly wouldn't be showing them off for a floor show in front of my family. Again. I mean ever. I pushed away the mental image of Mary Alice finding me curled up on my girlfriend's floor the day of that unfortunate incident. My eyes stayed away from Mary Alice's.

"Bella is part of our family. We are very protective of her. Are you trying to protect her as well?" Jasper said.

All the Other Immortal columns nodded. We heard a hissed, "Yes" in an oily boom that filled the cavern, followed by the final judgment sounding, "Belongs."

"With. Me." I said firmly from my perch. "And that was not Miss Grace," I informed my family.

"What do you here?" another spirit, 'Doc,' rumbled. I tried but couldn't see what he looked like. My head hurt too much.

"She said she wanted to show this to me because she thought it had to do with her Great Uncle's murder. I intend on taking nothing from here but a sample of the algae and study those vampire blades, if I may. I have uninvited dinner guests coming in a few days after my kith and kin. Angry ones that want her, too, and Genevieve, Jericho, and Liam." I answered in Oscan, eyes focused on my girlfriend. The spirits did not like the news I imparted. They stiffened. And rumbled. Emmett was proud of me for speaking. Rosalie, too. Jasper felt irritated I'd stolen his thunder, but liked what I'd said. And he wondered where he could get an awesome minion like Grace. She made the perfect battle accessory. Go Grace.

"They want her dead family's remains?" 'Happy' sounded shocked.

Rosalie said, "They saw a picture of them when an immortal power took possession of her body the other night in her bedroom. They said we had to produce 'them' within seven days or they would destroy our kith and kin. We thought you were with them."

"Why?"

Jasper smoothly asked, "Aside from the fact we haven't encountered any other immortal spirits lately?"

"Point taken."

My venom scarred brother appeared to fascinate the spirits as much as my singer did, "The soul scars on Bella and Edward match the clan mark on what we assume are your blades." The ones that Jasper and Emmett had grabbed on their way down. The ones that Jasper displayed to the formation before him casually, like showing off a baseball card. Emmett had dropped his weapon for three seconds in the sludge. I was going to kill Emmett if there was anything left of him for being so careless. 'Dopey' walked to the edge and stared at the water. The blade levitated up from the depths and came to rest at his feet.

"The mark is ours, and we never marked her. Or you."

"Did so!" Unfortunately Emmett thought that came out sounding like a child's "na-uh". Great.

"We would never hurt Liam's get. Name your coven leader." 'Doc' said.

"Carlisle Cullen. We are his children. I am his eldest." I answered. That seemed to have their undivided attention.

The female spoke. "Borrow blades. Fine. Must return swords when done. Bring results of tests on algae."

I nodded my head. Apparently I'd entered the Supernatural Weapon Library. I wondered what they did for overdue fines. She looked like she'd impose a hefty fine.

"Agreed. But the dagger than Liam wanted her to have and the short sword will not be included in that. I hope you understand. They are hers and we will not discount Liam's will."

"Noted."

"Are you sick again? Father told us he treated a lost coven once which I assume you are."

"No." That didn't answer my question. And then they changed the subject.

"When will the enemy force arrive?"

"They said we have seven days, we have five left if they hold to their timeline which I doubt they will. They had her scent and ours. I fear they might come here, too. Or the reservation," Jasper proclaimed.

"We will deliberate news. Ask sweet girl leg make promise. Leave now. We'll find you." That last part was said hurriedly and we didn't require a second invitation to depart. Considering I was walking away with the better part of the deal, an intact girlfriend and family, I didn't linger to quibble. 'Happy' made the sword tip facing away move towards Jasper, who took it by the hilt with a flourish and a bow. Rosalie snatched the other sword from him. Mary Alice scraped some algae into a Petri dish, I grabbed the sweet girl, and we all but flew up the ladder, Grace guarding my feet. As we passed through the door she became invisible. Emmett was disappointed because he found her lovely. Me, too. Lovely, deadly, and protective, a wondrous combination in an associate.

As soon as Jasper slammed shut the trap door, my siblings turned to me and shouted various versions of "What in Hades' name is going on?" followed by "Are you ok, you seem to be having performance issues." With a touch of "You resemble malodorous residue," added by Emmett.

"I'm fine. Those were spirit guards." I clutched at my head and lay on the ground, once I had properly placed my singer at my side. Pulling her against me took the edge off. And it just wouldn't do to vomit on her. I repeated that several times like a mantra.

Mary Alice said, "I noticed we couldn't smell anything aside from the sea and the rocks and minerals."

Rosalie said, "It wasn't like that with the Gorgon. I clearly smelled birch coming from her. And they seemed shocked by the marks on you and Bella."

I snorted.

Jasper said, "Father said that many clans split up into factions and joined others. We don't know that this is not the case. I did not read deception coming from them when they said they did not mark her. They were angry, upset, and confused. And since they were in spirit form, my power could read them only slightly."

"Well, a bunch of immortal spirits murdering the owners of the land and guarding a pit of algae definitely sounds like we're on the right track to that source of power secret." Mary Alice said.

"Agreed." Jasper granted.

It had been several hours since my girlfriend had eaten. I had an organic granola bar kept in my jacket pocket for human blood sugar emergencies. That would provide as good an excuse as any. I lay her on the rug and hovered over her, calling her name. My siblings vanished from view. Emmett sloshed into the bathroom. Jasper found a towel and cleared the floor of slime before nodding at me. Since all of them were sopping wet and dripping water from the rain, this was not good. Fortunately the algae didn't reek well, of anything. At worst she'd smell water. I'd have to grab her attention to get the information and make sure she didn't realize we weren't alone. That would totally ruin that whole first date business. I adopted a frantic expression as she awoke.

"Bella?"

"What happened?"

"You fainted when we were on the ladder and scared the life out of me." Well, that was partially the truth. Although I didn't have any life in me to be scared. And so I forgot to put a few words in the last part of that claim like "the spirits" before that "scared the life out of me" part. Sue me.

"Does your head hurt? Are you seeing any lights?" Please say 'no.' Listen to Nancy Regan for once.

"I feel fine." She tried to sit up and I leaned over pushing her to the ground.

"New rules. No moving without food after fainting." I held out a granola bar in Apricot and nut like food before a baited bear. Having her consume 160 calories sounded appropriate.

"Edward, can you eat flat on your back?" She quirked an eyebrow at me. Well actually little girl, I could. I could definitely eat….Never mind. I lifted her so she leaned with her back against me and toyed with a lock of her hair as she nibbled at the bar. And for the record, I was not aroused. Physically at least. Not with emo-boy standing there, I vowed as I blocked my feelings and maintained my façade of panic and inexperience.

I remembered the words of the spirits. Reaching out with my gift, I could still sense them down in the pit in a supernatural huddle, but I could not hear their thoughts.

"Grace?" I asked in my mind, "Are those the spirits of the land? The ones Hezekiah said were cursed?"

"Think so."

"Have they been watching Bella?"

I took by her silence that meant, 'yes.'

"How long?"

"Long."

"Do they bear harmful intent towards her?" my mental voice rose in alarm. This could be a set up for a dual-pronged attack. I reached out with my power to seek for spirits lurking above us and found only Grace and rain. Lots of rain. And three spirits outside standing guard.

"No harm. Worried."

"About her?"

"You. Her. Sweet Girl unlearned supernaturally." I see.

And I still couldn't think of a way to get my siblings that hid behind a counter down here comfortably able to gather data that didn't require her to be unconscious again now that I'd ascertained her welfare. So that's how she ended up splayed on the floor once again after one touch sent her sinking against me. But at least I'd fed her something before I knocked her out, so that was chivalrous of me. And totally fair. This was for us. Sometimes fate didn't hate me after all. What other vampire could put his woman on 'pause'? Perhaps this whole talking business might not be so hard after all. I could just get her alone without her watch and knock her out if she discombobulated me.

"She'd sleep the entire time." Jugurtha smirked. True. So true.

We now had four vampire blades – three short swords and a dagger - we'd never known existed. And two of them much to my family's shock, had the exact same gyrfalcons shrieking on the blades that burned on my palms. Mary Alice held it up to my palm to check as they all gawped. Truth be told, they were the same, but ours were more detailed. Jasper started nattering about the balance and workmanship of the weapon spinning it expertly in his hands, totally overlooking that I was frantic here. Insensitive Pseudo Emo Bastard. "Three upstairs," I gestured in their direction.

We waited a tense two minutes until we'd decided that we weren't going to be supernaturally attacked from below.

Mary Alice said, "Edward I see you in the house so you need to head toward there. We'll see what else we can find here."

"You can't"

"What?"

"We're sealed in here." I nodded at the trap door that had hissed shut. "And knowing Liam if you typed in the wrong code. . ." I did not even need to finish that sentence. Like perhaps a three ton moss encrusted boulder chasing us through the lab like a possessed by Genevieve bowling ball. They'd seen enough to realize that Liam had passed from eccentric to stark raving nuts on the Cullenary index of psychological disorders.

Speaking of Cullens, I had them crowd into the bathroom and woke my singer up again after hiding traces of their dripping all over the floor.

"My Queen?"

"Yes, Chess Man?"

"I'm going to have to insist," I breathed on her a time or two for good measure, "that you tell me the codes so I can get you out of here and take you to the farmhouse so you can nap, and feast on granola and orange juice."

"You sure know how to spoil a lady, Edward Cullen."

I had a piece of paper and an ancient Bic pen in hand as she recited the sequence. The ink was dry and I thanked God my vision allowed me to read the scratches. And to be on the safe side, I kept her slightly drowsy. My siblings had heard the numbers and wouldn't need to have aid in leaving as long as they avoided the mud. Women, not a practical bone in their body, I thought, as I lifted up mine, and carried her over my shoulder into the murky light above-ground away from dratted dust mites and glow in the dark fungi and sentinel spirits. I moved as fast as I could to carry her from the bowels of the earth into the storm that serenaded us above testing with my power that I wasn't followed by anyone other than Mary Alice. There were three different spirits outside the barn. I hissed to Mary Alice, "We have."

She cut me off. "Three. I know. We'll be fine. They are with the others."

As I climbed the skid proof staircase to the barn, I scoffed at the crash barrier that stalked behind me. Although I had to admit, in her case it was a brilliant idea. If only they'd thought to do something practical like install an elevator while they were inventing all those ingenious traps I would have been considerably more satisfied that they had half a brain.

"Liam designed this to keep her from falling didn't he?" Mary Alice said. "Look, they have two sets of hand rails. How sweet." Indeed.

"She told me he made her climb down that ladder in that pit in the dark and practice fleeing to the Pacific without breaking her neck." I said that in a tone of voice like he'd thrown her out in the forest and abandoned her in the cold. Which he kind of sort of had. Just in a dark cave instead. With increased chances of death.

"Something must have frightened him badly to do that, Edward. I think he loved her very much."

The very idea of Liam making her scramble down that cold metal into that dank pit as a child and stumble in the dark without a light to guide her given her balance issues…. It was a good thing he, too, was dead. I wanted to kill him all over again. Without the benefit or assistance of bee venom. And even worse on his list of transgressions against my girlfriend, what normal human tried to traumatize a child with organic chemistry at ten? I'd seen the class break 18 year olds like crushed pinecones under a bored bear. She must have pretended to understand those books to make him happy. As I entered his window dressing lab and passed the irritated at being ignored ferns, I had never been so cheered to hear lightning and thunder.

I stopped to feed her arms into Mary Alice's coat that we'd put on my girlfriend this morning. With my sister's assistance, I tossed my dear little one over my shoulder like a half-pound sack of barley, and opened the golf-sized umbrella. To my distress, rain was blowing at us from all sides due to the wind, so I ran at full speed. Arriving at the house, I typed in the 50 numbers Liam had created for the alarm and found myself, muddy boots and all with the not so surprising mudroom greeting me like a bored waiter in an empty restaurant and a convenient bench to deposit my singer. I let Mary Alice go first. Then I handed my precious cargo to my sister and blasted the mud from my boots as quickly as I could while passing for human, while she drowsed. The pounding rain would hide our tracks in the mud. Liam hadn't thought of everything.

"Bella? Do you want to lie on a sofa or do you want me to take you upstairs?"

"Bed." She mumbled falling asleep. Yes ma'am. Following the footsteps from all those years ago, I walked into the room that Genevieve and Liam had been born in and found it completely changed.

"You're startled why?" Mary Alice whispered.

To my eyes, the room was cheery. "It's changed." Because it certainly hadn't been this way when Liam and Genevieve had been born. Liam didn't strike me as the blue comforter with dainty flowers type. Then again, he was stark raving mad.

"Liam gave her the master bedroom. Humans use size to show status, which means that he should have the largest room. But he gave it to her," Mary Alice observed. Which, again, meant nothing.

That had to mean something, provided he didn't live 24/7 in his bunker – pardon me I misspoke – lab - sharpening his machete collection, rubbing his hands together in glee. She had stuffed animals, teddy bears much like the one she had lost as a child that I'd found for in the attic not so long ago laying on the bed, like abandoned children. I checked them for hidden zippered compartments. In the corner sat a prim rocking chair with carved spindles, one that had belonged to her Great-Grandmother. A white afghan that I'd bet Genevieve had crocheted due to that complicated weave, draped across it. In its intricate web lay the leavings of millions of dust mites. I didn't have to ask Mary Alice to remove it from my sight.

I set her slumped form in the chair and removed the bedspread that had a layer of dust coating it and the teddy bears. There was a plastic encased heavy blanket in the closet that appeared free from allergens. I removed her boots and put her to bed and covered her with the blanket. We found cleaning products in of all things the laundry room and proceeded to dust the room from top to bottom. She slept through that vacuuming part as well. So Mary Alice decided the entire house needed cleaning at supernatural speed since she thought it was fun. I wasn't going to get in the way of her obsessive compulsive disorder.

The pillows were usable, as they were still encased in plastic, as were the mattresses. Someone had their thinking cap on when they'd designed the room for her. Mary Alice and I both agreed. When there wasn't a surface left to torment with unboiled vats of lemon oil, My sister left to join her mate in the lab now that she was assured we didn't have demons lurking in the farmhouse. Demons other than us. We still had those three demons lurking outside the farmhouse, which explained why Mary Alice had her mate's escort back to the barn from the farmhouse.

All of my siblings except for Jasper, the intellectual snob, had earned hard science degrees at one point or another. They were frolicking in the lab with blitheful abandon studying dinoflagellates to their non-beating heart's content, so texted Mary Alice. I waited for an hour before waking my girlfriend, and to make sure she didn't have any bad dreams I held her in my arms and tried to deep breathe away my headache. I wasn't the type to sleep with a girl on a first date, you know. I had standards. Some. First, there would be none of that sleeping business. I had better things in mind. I halted that train of thought when the mirror in the dark room rattled. Fine. Be that way. Second, this wasn't our first date. This was the second part of our first date so that had to mean something as well. Besides, I'd been sleeping with her for….never mind.

She woke, and after handing her three boxes of orange juice and watching her consume two more granola bars, I decided the best defense was a superior offense.

"Bella?" She had left unsaid that she came down to that hole in the ground often. And that needed to get cleared up right this instant.

"You've told me you always keep your promises."

"That I do."

"I need you to make me one."

"Ask away." She sounded groggy. Drugged. And I didn't care a fig. About the drugged part. And cuddling against me with shut eyes was not going to sway me from my course no matter how adorable she looked or smelled.

"Bella, you can not come to the lab, and most especially the cave, by yourself without company. If you fell, you could die in there and no one could reach you." It wasn't hard to make my voice earnest. I meant every word. Her being dead was entirely unacceptable. My voice even broke on the word, "die." I had visions of Poe's "The Cask of Amontillado," my singer buried alive superimposed over Hezekiah's grinning skull and withered flesh.

She hedged, "Edward, I've been coming here for years on my own."

I remembered the words the guardian spirits had sent about her leg. It seemed that they and I were in agreement. "So when you fell and broke your leg when you were fourteen, where did that happen?"

"How did you know about that?"

"I read your chart in the hospital while you slept. I was bored." And I was not sorry. Although I knew I probably should be. This was about her health. Us.

She adopted that mulish expression. "Seth knows the codes. He found me when I didn't come home. I always tell him before I come." Seth seemed responsible, and had to have been terrified for a 12-year-old to have to carry her up all those rungs without dropping her. And it was unlike my dear little one to be so insensitive.

My temper flared. "How long were you down here alone?"

"I don't remember," she hedged.

"That's not good enough. He was twelve, Bella. Twelve. You're lucky he could maneuver you, because I'm presuming he didn't call the ambulance until he'd hoisted you upstairs in the window dressing lab with all the trap doors sealed shut." She flushed guiltily. I marked it away for further study that using her brother most definitely worked in an argument.

"Do Sue and Harry and Leah know about this place?"

"No. Just me and Seth."

"What if he were busy? He's now old enough to have a social life." Like exploding into mythical beasts at random moments.

She had that stubborn look to her that I knew meant I was in for a battle. Did I mention I didn't mind fighting dirty? My face melted and I donned a haunted expression and interrupted her when she said my name. I rolled her to her back and leaned over her my face inches from her own.

"Edw---"

"Three minutes and seven seconds." I made up the number.

"What?"

"That's how long your heart was stopped when we performed CPR on you the other night." I rubbed my fingertips against her rib cage. Not the bare skin, mind you, I wasn't completely depraved, although definitely liberal with the truth. I touched the sweater and kept my fingers devoted to her sides tracing the cartilage. Not of the breast touching nonsense. Although she was due for her annual exam to monitor her for breast cancer, "I was afraid I was going to break your ribs. I will never forget that sight as long as I live. I thought you'd never start breathing again. I've been waking up at night just to make sure you're still breathing." That was totally untrue, but it sounded good so I ran with it. And talking that much made me nervous so my voice quavered sincerely. For the record there was none of that waking up business. Either I stared, I mean guarded her, all night or I slept. Either way I got quality pressed against the flesh time so I was content.

"Oh." She stared up at me with wide eyes. And said nothing, damn her. I had no earthly idea what to say next to make her feel worse. My head hurt too much for inspiration of the manipulating kind.

I had my hand to my temple, "You've just acquired a real life lab partner indeed. Promise me you'll give me leave to accompany you."

"Fine," She grumbled. We shook hands on it. I held onto hers longer than was necessary. I needed to take her pulse after all. Well, I didn't but I had to pretend to. For human blending purposes. And I exhaled a sigh of relief. She probably thought I was happy about having won my way. She was right. But I was even happier about not having to talk any further for a little while. I needed a conversational time out.

"You have another migraine, don't you?" she asked.

"It's not a bad one." And that was true. I totally didn't mind her rubbing my temples. She could do that to her heart's content. Now that was first date of my dreams material. Fine. It was low in the list compared to other material. But a vampire, particularly a desperate one, could dream.

Then a question occurred to me thanks to prodding my Mary Alice and Jasper who now waited outside in the trees with my siblings.

"How did Seth know to find you when you fell?" Her fingers stilled for a moment and I forced myself to remain relaxed. Thankfully she resumed all that tracing business.

"Liam asked me to bring him one day. Leah was away at camp."

"What did Liam say?"

"I don't know. He sent me upstairs to feed the plants with Grandmother."

"I'm guessing you fed lots of plants that day." That idea came from Jasper.

"Only thirty-two. And I repotted twelve." She changed the subject, "So how did you get me and the knife out of there?" She stared over my shoulder at the blade I'd placed on the dresser. "And when did you find time to dust?"

"I can't take the chance of your safety if I fell, not that I plan on it. I opened the trap door and tossed the knife above and then carried you." I think I reminded her, suddenly, of my imaginary epilepsy. "And you were out for an hour. I needed something to do."

"God, Edward I forgot to ask," she squeezed her fingers into my flesh. Which actually felt kind of pleasant.

"Ask what?"

Now she had both palms on the side of my head. And those hands were not going any closer to my lips, "Did all the lights in there are they a danger to you?"

"No, they don't strobe. You're fine." She heaved in relief. "But it's sweet of you to care." I rolled her against me so her fingers were safe from my fangs. For now.

"I think Liam was having you do fencing as physical therapy. The exercises all work to improve your balance. He made you do it every day, didn't he?"

"Yes, and he took me for walks in the park."

"Remind me not to make you mad when you have a knife handy."

She snorted.

"With your Grandmother being a doctor, I'm sure they constantly monitored you. I think they did the best with a bad situation." She leaned against me. And we lay in the quiet listening to the rain, the thunder, and the crackling of lightning. I didn't know when I had morphed into Carlisle. I sounded an awful lot like him.

I most definitely planned on coming back here to pay a visit. Liam and his lab and the blades below it had some explaining to do. And Father and Rosalie would be all kinds of eager to help me discover it. And perhaps we could get him and the Other Immortals to converse. Mary Alice was absolutely fascinated so said the thoughts I received at regular intervals.

I noticed that Liam had thick metal shutters over every window. I'd had to turn on the light so she wouldn't wake in darkness.

"So what makes you come here?"

"I always check to make sure it hasn't been disturbed. The security system is pretty good. No one's broken into the house or the barn so far."

"Who designed the security system?" I refrained from saying, "which mad genius," because that was a given.

"Liam and Jericho designed it together."

"But you said that people kept breaking into the land?"

"Yes, they walk all around it digging from time to time, but they can't get in the house or the barn. And they get caught really fast."

"I'd break a window."

"You'd have a hard time as Great Uncle Liam put metal shutters on the inside. You could break every last window and still not get inside the house."

"I could use a blowtorch,"

"You'd have to have a lot of time on your hands and the police would get here, the tribe as well before you could do very much. The alarm alerts several different parties. I set it that way." Smart girl.

Liam had decorated the house with pictures of her taken at every age, professional quality pictures. I didn't ask where the gun rack was. I'm sure he had one, probably a hidden room as well.

"What lovely photographs." I mused looking around the room.

"Thank you," she blushed, "Liam was kind of crazy about taking pictures." The words "Liam" and "crazy" definitely belonged in the same sentence.

"Liam took these?"

"He did. My favorites are the ones he took of the park." And she was absolutely right. He was every bit as good as Ansel Adams, perhaps better. I knew why I hid my light under a metaphorical bushel, being immortal and preferring the anonymity. Why someone of this kind of talent hid it away though, was beyond me. Further proof of that insanity part.

"Why didn't he display these at a museum? These are astonishing, Bella."

"Liam wouldn't ever have done that. He wanted me to see why he loved the outdoors so much. These were his gift to me."

"That's a magnificent legacy."

"I know. He was a brilliant man. If I could be half as smart as he was, I'd be happy." She had a wistful note in her voice.

The last time I'd walked it, the stairs had been unstained. Since 1940, the house had undergone a transformation. The entire wooden interior had been polished to perfection, wainscoting had been added, paint as well. Liam had kept an immaculate house. I stared at the queen-sized light blue comforter covered with tiny purple tulips that I'd folded and tossed on the far corner of the floor. There were photographs of the park and of the Clearwaters on the walls. One taken of Seth, Leah, and my singer in particular had them all laughing. Liam may have been stark-raving howling at the moon off his rocker, but he didn't strike me as the collecting teddy bear type.

"Is this your room?"

"Yes." I didn't want to ask why he kept a room for her here. And considering she hadn't cleared out a thing from his lab, I doubted she'd changed a thing in here as well. I had intended on sitting up by her, but something in her eyes froze me in my tracks, keeping me on the bed. She appeared frightened. It took half a second for me to realize that I wasn't the source of her fear. I let out a shaky breath, but kept meeting her glance.

"I had planned on moving in with him when I was twelve. Grandmother decorated the room for me." She waved to the paint on the walls and photographs that adorned them and shifted to sit straighter, moving away from me.

"We were so excited. Grandmother went out and bought me a wardrobe sized big enough for me to grow into." I followed her gaze to the open closet. It held five pairs of jeans coated with dust, two dresses, and seven shirts. They hadn't been touched by the tags hanging from them. Mother had explained they had to be removed or they scratched human's skin, so I could tell she'd never donned them. Somehow, I didn't think she wanted to know if the Sunday shoes at the bottom of the closet that were still in their open box with balls of paper inside the toes fit her feet after all these years. And her hatred of shopping now made complete sense.

"Did your Mother object?"

"Liam had said he would take care of talking to her about it. Living with her was. . . Liam understood me. He was the best friend I ever had. He taught me everything I know." My poor little bottle cap. She seemed mentally healthy to me, which made me worry about the deviousness of her demented relations. They'd fooled my naïve girlfriend into thinking them sane. Recalling the image of her hugging his tombstone bothered me. And Billy most definitely had an appointment with karma. She was so grieved over her family she couldn't even let go of clothes that she'd never worn. They hung like the vestiges of her dreams unused.

"How did that work if Genevieve had told you they were going to die?" I asked apologetically.

"We had made the plans at Christmas the previous year. Liam had been angry because Mother had lost all the gifts that he had sent for me. And I missed Liam and Grandfather and Grandmother and the Clearwaters. I asked if I could live with him. I didn't plan on leaving that summer. Ever."

I winced at the mental image of that child spending the summer believing she was home only to be told that she had to return to Phoenix because her family planned on being murdered. That must have scarred her for life. Even I knew better than to ask. I decided to focus on something that would make her happy. And Liam seemed to do it.

"I didn't realize you two were so close. I had thought you were closer to your Grandmother."

Her eyes lost focus and she swiveled away from me toying instead with the edge of the nightstand, trailing the carving of the wood, leaving a slight path through the thick dust. The thick dust that I had managed to miss and my sister had managed to miss. It took all my strength to avoid leaping on it and beating the dust to death. And in a remarkable feat of self control I did not lift my singer up and take her to the bathroom to wash the dust from her hands to save her from dust mites. Although Jugurtha had to slap me six times to keep me in place. He had a good right hook.

"Liam and I could sit for hours without talking. I never felt like I had to be someone else for him just to be loved." She put her hand over her mouth like she had said too much. Suddenly, I think I understood a bit more about her father Chief Swan. The words echoed her uncomfortable demeanor. I didn't want to embarrass her. So I changed the subject. That was the polite thing to do.

And Emmett had an informational request, "So you think the algae your Uncle made might have been why Billy killed your family? How would he have known?"

"I can't think of any other reason why he would want to kill them that has anything to do with power. And the algae qualifies as powerless. Aside from that, nothing else makes sense. Seth didn't know about the algae until after they were dead, and I've never told him what it does. He couldn't have told what he didn't know."

Well I could. And it made perfect sense. But she didn't need to know and Billy would soon not be bothering her, I hid a smile.

Seth showed promise. I had particularly liked the part about him trying to eat Sam. Leah had texted her happy news to my girlfriend this morning with hysterical bursts of stupidity. I didn't have to be the messenger of doom again. Thank goodness. The lovebirds managed to burn up the cellular waves with texting and email every second Sam wasn't being beaten into a pulp by his pack mates. Apparently, Leah had attempted to defend their fornication once her Mother had ascertained how far along her daughter was. Mrs. Uley was most definitely not pleased to be a grandmother at her age and had roared her ire at her caviling child when she'd come to visit the guest cottage. The rest of the pack had been entertained. As had I.

"Harry and Sue know. Billy won't be bothering you ever. Of that I can assure you."

"Bella, tell me again, just to make sure I understand, how do you think the results of his work related to his death?" It took three minutes for her to answer. She spoke it so quietly a human would have had a hard time hearing. I leaned forward and crouched at her feet, pretending to need the closer distance to hear.

"He was working on a new form of energy that fed off of itself. He found a type of algae growing in a few locations across the globe and managed to breed a new strain. The algae produced byproducts that fueled more. It gave off light and energy." Why did she say that like she'd just admitted belonging to a Satanic cult and sacrificing virginal chipmunks by moonlight?

"Where did he find the algae?"

"Some tiny little town called Lake Arthur in Louisiana, and the Mekong Delta.

Frankly, it sounded like she'd been related to the mad scientist. I'd never heard of such nonsense. And who cared about algae energy? It's not like it would power my car. The only type that glowed in the dark, or was bioluminescent as the appropriate terminology warranted, came from deep in the ocean, not Louisiana. Although there was a type that grew in freshwater. But that was in dark slimy patches of underwater caves. Maybe Louisiana. Drat. Now I really wondered about that phone number he'd called as he'd died. That phone that lived in Lake Arthur.

"Edward, I know he was very secretive about his research. I wasn't allowed to tell anyone about the work he did."

"But didn't he publish?"

"Yes, work about ferns."

"So he faked the studies?" I sounded confused although I felt scandalized. The nerve of that man. Lying in the name of science.

"No, he really did all those. I helped him with a few."

"So why keep his real work secret?" Didn't that mean he was doing two entirely different lines of research? That had to be confusing. No wonder Liam was nuts. Even his scholarly mind couldn't stay on track. Brilliant chess player, my foot.

"He told me that it would be dangerous, that people would kill for what he was making. I wondered if Billy somehow figured that out. I never told." She sounded so lost on that last line. I wondered if this was a dream tale spun to boast in front of an impressionable child, but then again, she did have spirits lurking in a cave below the barn and a necklace that glowed the color of one of the algae's I'd seen. Currently beaming around her neck, I could feel heat off of the pearls. And that wasn't heat that came from her.

In the lamplight, she looked weary. I think all the excitement had finally caught up with her. I leaned over and turned out the light. "You look tired. Let's go home, shall we?"

I didn't know what to say. Because she could be right for all I knew. I had only seen in my dream that Billy wanted the land. And guessed about wanting her ovaries thanks to Paula. And that part, I didn't think she needed to know. She was scared enough; I could see from her face and smell from her blood. I didn't even want to think what would happen if I said, "Pfft, that's nothing to fret over. Let me really give you something to really worry about, silly little girl. A gaggle of vampires, you know, the ones that haunt you in your sleep, are coming to chew us out, nibble at our nerves, and dismember us all and then set us on fire - thanks to your meddling imbecile of a Grandmother. Here, have a flower, and stop worrying. Contemplate world peace." Besides, it's not like I'd ever let that idiot Billy Black within spitting distance of her ovaries. Instead, I awkwardly sat down by her in the dark, waiting for her to decide what she wanted to do. I didn't touch her. I simply sat.

I wondered what her life would have been like had she moved here and her family had lived. Somehow it seemed like she would have flourished. That was another reason why Billy had to suffer. Although that would have to come later. Plans were being made. And I had my hands full at present. Not full in the way I wanted them full. But still. I held out my hand and she took it. I used it to pull her to her feet. "Have you seen everything you wanted?"

What a loaded question. It made her sad as she met my eyes and said, "I think so. We can go now."

"I have to hand it to you, my Queen; you definitely know how to surprise a man."

She smiled at me and said, "You have no idea how that pleases me."

We drove home in silence.

I didn't even ponder driving her to her domicile and she never suggested otherwise as I returned back to the sanctuary of my house, discreetly shutting off my phone. Wait. That was our house. Soon. I had taken a long route home permitting my siblings to arrive and put on dry clothing at vampire speed. The storm hadn't abated. So driving back took time.

Father met us at the door. His thoughts told me he'd been studying the venom and saliva samples, and that my siblings had informed him of our trip's success. He all but danced from foot to foot as much as a man turned in the 1600's who still carried all that British gravitas would, he was so eager to share his news with me. "Edward your venom has changed," he said in Saami at vampire pitch. Then he froze imperceptibly when he saw what was hanging from my belt. Apparently he'd been so absorbed in his lab and my brothers and sisters so excited with their discovery that neither side had conferred. Oops. Mother took the opportunity to engage my girlfriend in a conversation about our day and cluck over her, taking her inside to see that she ate properly. Showing how amazing she was, she'd created enough fake dirty dishes in the sink to make it appear my family had already eaten and only the two of us had yet to dine. How fantastic was that?

"There are two more that the others have and they're stamped with gyrfalcons on the blades. We encountered a group of immortals who projected their spirits but left their forms elsewhere."

Father looked at my girlfriend with alarm.

"She slept through it all and they never laid a spiritual finger on her. Unlike the Violet Gorgon, they didn't try to seize anyone's soul, and acted more like ghosts."

"What were they doing there if they weren't after you?"

"Guarding a pit of algae in a cave below the barn." They apparently know your name and they allowed us to borrow the blades when I mentioned our problem. One of them was a blond female."

"Tell me more."

"I thought the Violet Gorgon was the only example we found of immortals that could leave their bodies. This afternoon we found a whole roomful of them and they are all from the same unscented clan that I suppose hails from Vancouver." I asked.

"Did they have any relationship with Bella?"

"A protective one. They tried to convince me to leave her there with them."

"I'm sure that demand was not received well." He had a hint of a smile.

"Once we made it clear she was family, they asked me to talk to her about her leg."

I recounted the tale of her broken leg and Seth's rescue, and my convincing her to acquire a new lab partner.

"Excellent work, Edward. I'm very proud of you." Father beamed.

Aloud we had a mundane conversation about the weather as the storm picked up it's pace. Mother reminded us at vampire pitch that normal humans would not stand out there under the porch as rain lashed at us. She was right, as usual.

I whispered back at him at vampire pitch, "What do you mean? It looks the same to me," I blinked at him. "I can smell my human blood in it, and a bit of the shaman power, but that's all."

"It's green in testing as time passes, although it takes over an hour for the effect to occur. The same green the air turns around the wolves when they phase. The same green that your power shows when you use them. And it's quite dark. It's darker than any of the venom from the Volturi." Take that Miss I'm so scary coming for your kith and kin Gorgon. It would have been rude to preen. But I did it anyway. Inside. Like I always did. Keeping a blank face to the world.

"What do we know about her saliva?"

Father sighed smiling at Bella as he saw Esme eating lamb stew with her and chatting with her about her asthma medication. She had been drained by our trip and leaned back against her chair, "Nothing. It looks perfectly normal. Except it has no scent. Whatsoever. And I can't add scent to it," he thought to me. I couldn't even begin to imagine the world without her scent. Or her.

Jugurtha said, "It really doesn't matter why. We can figure that out later. All we know is that she does not smell to them. And only Alice can get a faint whiff of her. I wonder if that has to do with Mary Alice's visions? What we need to find out is if we lose our scent in proximity to her."

"No one has said so thus far."

"Yes, but it could take time for it to manifest, like her marks did."

I scowled at the idea. I didn't need to hide behind her skirts, the unscented ones. I had power enough to protect us all. That and a vampire Father who apparently could lull people into oblivion. But in the name of "scent"-antic science, I would screw my . . . will to the sticking point and force myself to spend more quality pressed against the flesh time with my droopy-eyed singer.

Hating to be parted from it, I handed Father the slides I'd swiped and the sample I'd gathered that resided in my coat pocket. He acted like he took my coat from me all the time as he walked back to his study, whistling. I joined Mother and my girlfriend at the table for a brimming bowl of sour-smelling stew. I didn't mind sheep's blood every now and then. But this eating little lamb business was highly over-rated. Mountain Lion was far superior.

My little algae lover did not need any encouragement from me to go to our bed change into her pajamas, and sleep. And none of us were eager to take her to the questionable safety of her Father's house. Paula agreed to keep him occupied for the foreseeable future, leaving us to guard the wailing pack at night. Training them kept Jasper amused. He was the only one of us that could tolerate their scent without wanting to spew blood. He managed to wear them out so that all of them crawled whimpering in supernatural muscular agony into their cottages and fell soundly asleep. A little help from me ensured they wouldn't awaken and disturb us with their howling contests. Unfortunately, I could identify with that whole muscle twinging business.

Then Rosalie let out a piercing shriek, "Emmett, honey, look at me. How many fingers am I holding?"

"One, Rose, why are you so scared?"

Using Grace's gift I examined my brother as the rest of the family ran into their bedroom. He blinked at us in befuddlement. With light green eyes.

After Emmett had been thoroughly examined by his wife and our Father and pronounced fit and healthy, Jasper turned to Father and said, "I'm guessing we just met the Vancouver coven. And their food source."

"Father it's horrible tasting. Vile." Emmett stressed. Then he had to go and really scare us by losing his scent.

We gathered in my room, Rosalie sniffing her husband like a bad habit every few seconds. My girlfriend slept undisturbed and we conversed at vampire pitch in the dialect from Africa we'd been using, Kung-Ekoka. Jasper sat on the sofa facing me, as I reclined on the floor, her arm in its usual place hanging down my chest from the bed. The rest of the family filed in. His wife sat beside him. Rosalie and Emmett leaned against the window wall, shoulders touching. Mother and Father sat on the edge of the bed nearest me.

Father said, "What did we learn from the lab? Did he leave records?"

Jasper answered, "He had a computer in there, an old model, and it's encrypted. I haven't broken the code yet. I'll go back later tonight and try." By his voice, Jasper now was officially irritated. He'd taken hunting Liam as a personal challenge.

"I went into the records for the water, sewer, and electric companies and found that Bella has been paying for all the bills with money from an off shore account. She set the arrangement up by the internet so that it automatically bills and deducts every month. That's why we didn't find any evidence on her computer. She must have done this years ago."

"Where was the bank?" Mary Alice the family financial expert asked.

"Bank of N. T. Butterfield & Son Limited," he answered.

"That's a good one. I have used them in the past. They're also exclusive about who they take from out of the country. It took me three decades to get an account. How much is in the account?"

"Which one? She has three."

"All of them." Mary Alice asked.

She had over 10 million dollars spread out in three bank accounts. Humans were absolutely bewildering. She had ten million dollars and she drove a rusting jalopy and had no clothing. "Why wouldn't she spend money on herself?" Emmett asked.

"Because she doesn't see it as her money. She sees it as their money. And she sees it as money that should only be used on household matters. She doesn't think she counts." I said. Then I shifted when all of them stared at me.

Jasper most definitely planned on looking into Liam's finances further. Just as soon as he returned from picking up his friends.

Rosalie said, "I've not had time to run any more tests. But from what I can tell, the algae is unique. And it does produce heat. And green eyes."

"So why would a bunch of immortals stand around guarding it? Why not just grow it?"

"That's a good question." Jasper pondered.

Emmett and Rose were going to add the goo to their ever growing list of things to study. As was I. While she slept I could bring the lab equipment into my room for a little while. She'd never know. Algae needed company, too.

Mother raised the subject I hadn't wanted to mention. Mary Alice had told the rest of the family of her dream and fear of sleeping. "Jasper, do you think Bella dreamt of your house?"

"Yes. I don't believe in coincidences. Maybe Rosalie can work with her to sketch the woman who is on fire. That's the only way we'll know."

"Jasper, could you draw a picture of your sister Susan like you remembered her?" Rosalie asked. "I won't look at what you sketch until I've talked to Bella," she promised.

"I have colored pencils in the top desk drawer and an artist's pad in the drawer below," I told him as he collected the supplies.

Jasper sketched as he said, "I believe if Genevieve thought I failed to understand her message she would persist through any means at her disposal."

I quite agreed, which is why I had ensured it wouldn't happen. No more spiritual sock puppet for my singer. "With my new gift, I've blocked Genevieve from contacting her. So she couldn't be sparking these dreams."

Mary Alice said, "I don't think she's having a dream. I think she's having visions. That's why she's so exhausted. Hers work differently than mine. I don't have any memory of having them when I was human; so I don't know how difficult it would be on her body. I think she's having them while asleep and then her body is taking whatever time it has left over to recover. I don't think she's obtaining restful slumber unless you're near her." This greatly disturbed both Grace and I as we both had been monitoring her vital signs and she had certainly sounded asleep. Since Alice didn't need to breathe, and did not have a heartbeat, Grace suggested we had snookered ourselves into thinking our dear little one was well. What baffled me was that if she experienced a nightmare I knew by the change in her vital signs – a vision? Nothing. Odd. Very odd.

And if I were blocking Genevieve and any other spirit from reaching her, then how was she having visions? I thought I had covered all my bases.

From staring at my face, my sister ascertained the direction of my thoughts and said, "Her visions might feel like they last hours, but could only really last seconds. You know how that works very well, Edward." I remembered the mental pit of perdition that had been Jasper's first vision. It had felt like it lasted hours.

Father added, "That could explain the vital signs not raging out of control while she sleeps. You can't prevent them from happening. This is a natural talent she already possesses Edward." Jasper and Alice had natural talents I could prevent. But only in regards to me. Curses.

Mary Alice continued, "I don't think that my visions are sent to me by anyone. Why should hers be?"

Mother pointed out, "She's so quiet like you, Edward. We really don't know if this is an emergent talent or if she's just now confessing she's had it all along." Jasper finished his sketch and put it on the desk. Rosalie went to her room and returned with the portrait she'd drawn of Violet Gorgon. Jasper's portrait was decent, Rosalie's piece leapt off the page. She'd captured the image much like I remembered, with one difference. Violet Gorgon wasn't snarling. She appeared frightened and angry with a touch of hauteur. She passed it around the room and the last to have it was Carlisle. "She's lovely, but I've never seen her." Emmett took the drawing from his hand and placed it on the desk by Jasper's sister. Jasper had sketched a woman with hair lighter than his own, almost silver-gilt. She had eyes that matched the unique blue of his human ones, and dimples. Considering they hadn't had access to dentists in those days, her teeth were crooked. She had a slight tan and chapped lips. His mate stared at the drawing and said, "You could have been twins."

"I know. She was tall like me and teased by everyone for it. Aaron never cared that she was taller than he was." Sensing his discomfort, his wife changed the subject.

Mary Alice told the family of her "might possibly be married to another immortal," vision. Thankfully, Peter and Charlotte had texted while I'd been occupied with my date. Based on an exhaustive by immortal standards search, they'd concluded that she had never been wed. They had searched every archive they could get their hands on in the area, even finding ones that Jasper didn't know existed. They also located a record of the death of her parents and her younger brother. Mary Alice's death notice indicated she was single at the time of her turning. Her parents died the night that Mary Alice did apparently in the fire at the asylum, her brother two days before. The records weren't specific as to Jeremy's cause of death.

She said, "I did not expect them to be alive after all these years, but I feel like even though my hand didn't do it, I killed them all." Her mate took her hand and squeezed. Unfortunately, he could identify. I heard her think, "And if my family dies now because I can't see anything it'll be just like old times." I snorted in her direction. She offered me a ghost of a smile and a, "Thanks."

"Alice, I'm sorry but you can't bear that burden. That minister killed your family and he threw aside all those religious principles he preached to do it. You did not force him." He didn't have to add the part about "take it from me I've killed scores of people, I'm your nearest expert."

"I know. Thank you. Well, at least I know thanks to Peter and Charlotte where they died. Hopefully I can find their graves." Peter and Charlotte were very thorough, and they were on their way. Jasper planned to fetch them from the Forks airport. Peter has his own plane and Charlotte was an expert pilot. Mary Alice's sister's name was Cynthia, and of her they could find no trace beyond a record of her baptism at the local church.

She showed me her vision of the smooth talking liar that claimed to be her spouse. I'd already seen it but pretended as if it were new. "His voice does not sound overjoyed to me because of affection. It sounds practiced, rehearsed."

"You think? I've been sitting here too scared to pay attention to it."

I had hidden Hezekiah's stick under my bed. I reached for it and used it like I was taught to send her vision to the awake inhabitants in the room. I felt the connection in my mind as the energy surged from me as Alice mentally re-lived her vision. I conveyed everything but the first part, but seriously, she could simply tell them she was running. The voice at the end seemed more important. My head still hurt doing it, but not as much as last time. And I needed to shave again. And my muscles hurt even more all of a sudden.

Mother said, "Alice, I was still legally married to my first husband when Carlisle and I found each other. I would have never returned to him for any reason. And I know that your love for Jasper is true. What are you so afraid of?"

"The red-eyed people want me and Bella, and to get us both they'll have to take Jasper, too. Maybe Edward. I can't see anything beyond that vision. But I haven't seen us dying, either."

"Well, that's positive, at least. It helps if we can figure out what they are after so we can defend it." Emmett said. "What else do we have?"

I showed them the bracelet on her wrist and the pearls that hid under her collar. Apparently only I and the Other immortals had heard the music. Father took the pearl necklace off of her to test the green glowing part with an exclamation of, "My word." We had no idea what to do about the bracelet that produced music and we left it on her for now.

Emmett joked, "So Edward was alone with Bella for an awful long time. We want details." I ignored the impudent bastard.

Rosalie said, "I've been researching the gold necklace we found inside Liam's casket with Mother's help. The design is unusual. From what we can tell it dates back to the Etruscan era. The bracelet they brought back from the bank is from the same time period although it belongs to a woman." Considering the voice spoke Oscan that was no big surprise. The Oscan language used the Etruscan alphabet to write. Maybe the voice was after the gold necklace? Or the bracelet? Or both? I hadn't really paid attention to either. I had visions of Violet Gorgon in a snit sending minions to scour the world to find her misplaced jewelry. Except she had said, "What have you done with her?" not "What have you done with my gaudy jewelry?"

Rosalie cleared her throat, capturing my attention, "I can tell you the gold necklace belongs to a warrior by the fighters that are shown on each disc." She held it out in her hands. I put my senses out towards it, and felt nothing other than it was a necklace like any other necklace. Then again, the necklace on my singer had felt that way before it awoke. "What would her family be doing with a piece that old? They didn't seem that wealthy." Rosalie asked the obvious, admiring the workmanship of the metal on the bracelet.

Jasper said, "The medallion she wears around her neck is equally as old. And I've been researching the one that Alice had. We know that the medallions were in different colors and slightly different in shape although both were round. We also know that their styles were hard to classify as belonging to any particular era. Have you taken a good look at Bella's?"

Reaching out gingerly as if I lifted a landmine I picked up the medallion again and felt its power surge through me and hoped it wouldn't wake my human. I had certainly stared at the face of the necklace long enough. It felt quite light considering the metal and jewels and all should have added weight. Jasper watched my singer like a cobra while I held her arm ensuring no "accidental swiping my brother and sparking another vision in her sleep" occurred. He tentatively reached out and touched the metal.

"I can feel that this is something of power. I don't know how, but it radiates it. And you glow when you touch it."

"Haven't I been glowing all along?"

"For the past few hours, yes, but it surges, and the aura around you turns white."

I had no answers for him.

They filed out of the room as my heart started. I changed into my pajamas. I didn't have to pretend to need her at my side. I acted calm while inside knew I had to come up with something to save everyone in a few days. I decided I'd sleep on it. Hezekiah would help me, I hoped, as I surrendered to the pull of the wolf power.

Hezekiah had us back in his grove, a serious expression on his face. We didn't begin with our usual joking. There wasn't anything funny about that dying in a few days business. "I'm proud of you Edward for doing the ceremony and creating the wolves. You did good, son."

"The power didn't work for Paula."

"I know. I don't know why. Give her time and be patient. I imagine she's worried enough."

"It failed on me, too, for a little while today." I felt mortified, "She could have been hurt."

"You lost control of your temper son. And your power is so new it basically short circuited. We'll have to work on that temper of yours. And your little missy is just fine."

"Did you know about the spirits?"

"Well, I knew they were there. I've never seen or met them."

"How long do you think they've been guarding the land?"

"It's been rumored to be cursed for generations, Edward. They could have been there hundreds of years."

"Why kill the humans that lived there?"

"Good question. The only thing I can figure is that they couldn't seal the cave and feared discovery. So they kept up killing folks to scare people off the land."

"Did you ever watch Liam?"

"Only a time or two. I didn't know about that lab business. I only saw him playing chess outdoors in the park."

"They weren't physically in that cave, and yet there were there. And no one had taken

possession of Bella's body."

"Which means they are spirit walking and incredibly powerful at it. I think the ones that have been chasing after Bella in her dreams have done the same thing."

That was every bit as frightening as them scouring the earth for her. The idea that they'd been sending out their spirits scrying for her…..I changed the subject. "Can you explain to me about how the pack communicates? Seth doesn't sound in my mind like he's able to talk to them. Or Paula. Although I can hear them both."

"I noticed. The only thing I can guess is that it's a flaw in the gene. When they are all in wolf form they can link minds. There's also the uncomfortable issue that anything that is really emotional that a wolf has on the mind the others can read."

"So does that mean they can read every thought the wolf has the second they phase? That would be awkward." Not to mention I want to make sure they can't read every thought of mine that I've ever had. I'd have to kill them all. And that, too, would be awkward.

"Oh no, nothing like that. And putting aside the fact they can't read Paula's mind anyway, they can't read the shaman's mind unless the shaman wants them to. And they definitely can't read your mind unless you send them your thoughts on purpose. Let's say that Sam had just found out that Leah was pregnant and was excited about it before he phased. They'd know that if they all phased. They wouldn't know what that jerk did to that poor girl to put her in that condition unless he was thinking about it at the time. It is hard enough having the burden of being a wolf without walking around with everyone's secret hopes and dreams in their minds. The pack would end up killing each other over it." Good think I didn't need to breathe. I didn't need to let out that mental sigh of relief.

"Great. What happens if she can't communicate with the pack?"

"They might not agree to follow her. Although somehow with what we've got going on I can't see them rebelling immediately. And the way you did the ceremony with having them off alone and having Paula talk to them before hand was inspired."

Why they hadn't thought of that was beyond me. I held my tongue.

"The committee would like to congratulate you, Jenny especially, on your sojourn with Bella." I smiled. "Now you have to actually try to court her, son."

"I just did."

"You started the process. You did good. But she needs more courting. Jenny says you should talk to her more about her family. No one else seems to. And Jenny thought it was a big deal that she told you her Great Uncle's secret."

"What do you think about all that algae business?"

"I think her Great Uncle was a mighty smart man, and if he said he'd succeeded, then he had. The question is why he hadn't put word out to anyone." Hezekiah scratched at his chin.

"Indeed. It suggests one of two things."

"What would that be, Mr. Smarty Pants?" His eyes twinkled at me.

"Either he didn't because he couldn't prove the worth of his work and feared the mocking of his peers. Or, he had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams and feared the consequences of releasing the knowledge. The only thing that would have kept him quiet was fear over his family. He didn't strike me as the sentimental type. Or the type who was after money."

"President Roosevelt thinks you are on to something. Sitting Bull says that you should put all that useless white man book knowledge to use on Liam's scribblings and learn his secrets."

"We don't have much time for me to do research."

"If you can find out what the power source is Edward it would be an awful big help in dealing with whoever plans on attacking."

"I know."

"There's a skill we need to work on tonight."

"What would that be?"

"Hiding the lights that come from your power use from other immortals. You need to work on that more. I'm going to show you how. If they can't see you reaching for the power, you have the option of surprise if they aren't sensitive to feeling it. Not every vampire has a sense of how powerful someone is, unlike the wolves. This way, they won't see you coming."

"Won't they see my hands?"

"Not unless you want them to. I think if you do it right, you can hide those marks from immortals. But only for yourself."

His words reminded me of Carlisle. I had trouble focusing on our lesson. But I managed to hide the green fire on the fifth try."

"It will take a while to learn how to do it consistently. If you get irrational, the ability to mask it goes out the window, just so you know."

"I see." I stared off into the distance and heard him sigh. Ordinarily at realizing this level of inattention he would have smacked me across the forehead by now. Instead he simply called my name, "Edward."

"Yes, Hezekiah?"

"We need to talk about Carlisle."

"Yes?"

"You need to give him a break."

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"He never used his gift on you."

"How would you know?"

"I just do. You need to know that as well. Even Quanah Parker agrees, and he hates just about everyone." I didn't even get a chance to ask him my next question before I was yanked from his side.

I felt like I floated on the ceiling watching the scene unfold before me. I sat inside the parlor of my human house in Chicago. My parents were by the window conversing. I saw Carlisle introducing himself to Grandmother Grace. She wore black, with lace at her collar. Her hair was thick and silver-white in an elaborate pile on her head that I could not figure out how she had done, or had the time to fashion, regardless. She took one look at Carlisle and said softly in an older form of Gaelic, "I know what you are, and that you are blood. What is it that you want with the likes of us?"

He appeared shocked before he smoothed his features and stammered, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to intrude. And I would never hurt you. I don't harm humans and live off of animals instead. That makes me a pariah with my kind. I cannot live among beings that kill mortals. And I cannot tell mortals what I am for fear of them being harmed by my kind. I am lonesome. I missed my kin. I'm hoping you'll accept me." I'd never seen Father appear so distressed. And he certainly did seem desolate. Desperately so. I recognized the look. I knew how he felt. It was like looking in a mirror of my spirit.

His face transformed when he Grandmother Grace said, "Look at me, son." She reached out and took his cold hand in her frail one and gave it a firm squeeze. "You are and always shall be welcome."

Father appeared ready to weep for a moment before mastering himself with a choked, "Thank you."

Grandmother nodded. "Families need to stick together. Of course." Then she leaned over and took him to her breast embracing him like a child. "Welcome home, dear child." I couldn't see her face. But I could see his. And I'd never forget the sight.

The vision skipped to them having tea over a period of time where he explained family history and she took copious notes in a leather bound book. When her arthritis bothered her, Carlisle took over and wrote at vampire speed for her after making her take her medication. She teased him when she saw he'd forged her handwriting. Something about the spine of that book seemed familiar. I let it go for now. The dream shifted and moved forward in time to the hospital where we'd died.

Carlisle sat in a crowded room filled with terrorized victims, desperately ill. The smell alone was enough to turn my stomach. I don't know how he held onto his gorge. My Mother's bed was beside mine, and she clutched onto my hand. Fever Me noticed it not, tossing from side to side, muttering incoherently. I could not tear my eyes from her ravaged face. She looked like her world had ended right before her. Actually, it had. But it tore at me to see her so devastated. She should not have had to die like that, I raged at the universe. No one should. No one innocent. Father told me later that 8,500 people died in Chicago from that outbreak, 675,000 nationwide – which surpassed the number of soldiers who died in all the wars recorded in the 20th century combined.

Starched Shirt Edward walked up to my side and patted my shoulder. "Twenty-five million humans died, too. If Fate hated us, it also hated 24,000,999 other souls." I snorted. My Mother shifted uneasily on her cot. She was but thirty-eight years old.

And this pandemic, unlike others, didn't aim for the young and the elderly. It struck a knockout punch between 20-40 year olds: yet again another way my misfortune occurred. Apparently, I couldn't even die at the right age from the proper disease. I had to be special. I had to be an outlier. I must have seriously angered someone in a past life, or lived countless nights of debauchery. Because surely if I'd been that wicked as a 17-year old Carlisle would have told me? Right? Somehow I couldn't see him saying, "Edward, before you died you seduced young women of gentle breeding with regularity, spat in the street in public, stole horses, drank spirits, frequented low-class bordellos, and fathered nine sickly children you refused to support or acknowledge as your own. Oh, and on that thought, we're related. Nice to meet you."

"Cousin Elizabeth, I'll do my best to care for Edward. I'm afraid he won't last much longer." Carlisle's voice sounded formal yet soothing. He hadn't lied to her about her chances. You could see from her face she realized death was coming, and she did not intend to go gently into that good night.

"I know." Mother whispered through a wet wheeze and cough, having recently vomited. Carlisle cleaned her mouth and had her drink water. I could see from the expression on her eyes that she was not talking about her death. So, too, from his stiffening shoulders did Carlisle. He tried to divert her attention, "You should drink more, Elizabeth." She said nothing.

"You do?" He answered quietly.

"I've known for," she never finished that sentence, closing her eyes as her stomach started cramping, hands clutching her abdomen.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He sounded cautious.

I wondered why he wasted her last moments. But couldn't interrupt them to play conversational police.

"I feared you'd leave. Mother accepted you. You are family, no matter what. You are blood." I knew she couldn't last much longer by her symptoms. Her fever was so high I marveled that she'd even been lucid. And no one in the immediate vicinity cared enough or was in a state to hear. They had all been either dead or dying.

"Make Edward your own."

"With the severity of his case, he's not going to survive, Elizabeth, long enough for me to adopt him; he might not last half an hour. Would that I could. He's a fine young man," he said simply.

"Your own kind," her voice quavered as she whispered.

"Madam, do you even comprehend what you are asking?" Even Carlisle sounded shocked.

"That I do."

"I do not even know . . . the process is excruciating. Elizabeth, he would be in considerably more pain than he is now. He's so shy. He'd probably be the quietest vampire ever. And he would struggle every day with craving things he should not. And if he had the choice, I believe Edward would elect to be with you."

Mother argued, "You have managed to master yourself. You can teach him. He is such a strong man. Please, I beg of you; he is the last of your blood. Save it."

"Why? Why not let him die? You'd be together for eternity."

"He's meant to do good works in this world. I've seen him in my visions living with your family, so this must be the only way."

"Elizabeth, aside from the two of you, I have no family."

"You will. I see him in it. Please? In my Mother's name?"

Carlisle's voice turned firm, "Look at him now. You see his suffering, do you not? Imagine that a hundred times over for three entire days. And I can not undo it once it starts or relieve his pain." Mother refused to break eye contact with him. Instead with her free hand she blindly reached out and placed her fumbling palm against my cheek, cupping it. I saw my face glimmer a smile briefly like a contented child before dissolving into pain as Mortal Fever Me moaned. The sound made Mother clench her teeth as chills rattled through us both.

"It is not his time yet. Because of him, you will find your wife, and your children." Teeth chattering, with a jittering hand she clutched at his sleeve and groveled without words. He took her hand and removed it from his arm, cupping it in his palms. The few memories I'd experienced of her in my dreams had shown me a dignified and graceful woman. Comparing the memories, Mother now appeared broken, with desperation greedily seizing ground in her haggard mind like troops at an ambush with the advantage. Seeing the tears coursing down her enervated face, Carlisle hung his head, his features inscrutable and simply continued to let her clutch his hand.

"You would die alone. I'd have to take him now."

"So be it." She tried to caress me and was too weak to lift her arm, having expended what little strength she had. Carlisle lifted her hand and brought it again to my cheek. I can not even describe the expressions that traversed her face. That's about the time Fever Me started seizing. It lasted but seconds.

Carlisle never said, "Yes." And in the chaos of the room, he could not stay by any one patient longer than a few minutes without calling attention from the harried staff and volunteers. Finally he squeezed her palm and kissed her brow, and said, "God be with you," as I heard Fever Me mutter, "Do not fret Mother, all will be well. I feel better." Without a word, he rose and walked to my body with his façade of equanimity crashing. The vision ended with the anguished air in his visage that flashed only long enough for an immortal to observe. Equal parts hope and misery and guilt flickered to life as he lifted me from the cot and carried me away from my life as if he merely moved a dead body. "Cot 73 is open," he said to a doctor as he passed. An old man carried an almost dead child in its direction. Over the wails and screams and gasps in the fetid room, Carlisle earned not a second glance. He never looked behind him.

Carlisle took Fever Me into a room where his own cot contained a covered corpse of a woman similar in height to my Mother. He laid me on a nearby stretcher. Fever Me awoke and vomited blood.

"Dr. Cullen?" My eyes were bright with my temperature. I blinked in confusion at the covered body on the cot near my left side. He mopped at my lips without a qualm. "Why is there a sheet over my Mother's face? Won't that be difficult for her to breathe?" Fever Me moved to remove it.

"Edward, I'm sorry," He grabbed my hand.

"Mother?" My century old eyes saw the grief blossom like a corpse flower in the room.

He did not answer.

"Father?"

"Gone to his eternal rest seven hours past, my child. I'm so sorry." Fever Me took a heaving sob, and turned my face away throwing myself into the blessed arms of delirium. Thinking this would all be a bad dream when I woke.

Carlisle looked up at the doorway as an exhausted nurse said to him, "We've just lost eight more," She offered us both a sad glance and left, muttering about how sad it was to see him lose his family.

"Make that nine," He said as he took a clean sheet from a pile and covered my body with it and carried me from the building. Immortal Me could still hear my human mother's heartbeat as it ebbed and flowed with the disease's tide as I observed Carlisle carrying me away. I realized at that moment that I'd been mistaken earlier when thinking about that time. In actuality, I never witnessed her death. I never said goodbye to my human Mother. Even in my dreams. I didn't watch him take the first bite. I didn't want to see how painful it must have been for him to break my flesh so quickly he could not taste blood. Or how he had to literally drool venom across me.

As I had aged past my post-lapsidarian in more ways than one epoch, my memories of the feelings I'd encountered at the time of my death had faded, although the sensation of pain had remained in place. Intellectually I had known that I had "loved" my parents. But I did not know what that meant because I could not associate a distinct feeling with love. I'd certainly felt horror when I'd realized its absence, knowing that the fiend had truly stolen away something I imagined had been immeasurable.

When the very touch of her had sparked more visions of my family, this nagging sensation at the back of my mind had grown. From the visions, I had come to appreciate that they had felt pride in me, that they had cared for me. I had felt pleased at seeing them, overjoyed at now at long last, having a memory to treasure that my vampire nature couldn't rip from me. The overriding emotion that I could identify experiencing, however, hadn't been what I thought love would feel like: guilt, happiness, grief, loneliness, mixed with joy. Shakespeare had never written about anything like that. And I had felt bereft in the privacy of my mind later when reliving them; like I appreciated I had been robbed without taking an inventory of what the light-fingered Lady Fate actually had purloined.

My shoulder was being shaken and I blindly grabbed whatever poked at me and yanked it forward, irritated and disoriented and territorial and somehow irrationally pleased having been metaphorically torn yet again from my human mother's side by Fate's witchery. I did not have to bear witness any longer, selfish ingrate that I was. Observing her suffering discomforted me so. A human son, a good son, would have wanted to stay and see it through to the end. Ignominious Me scurried away like Starch Shirt Edward racing towards his prayer bench at full speed nipped all the way by sin's pull.

Speaking of sin, something soft yet stirring came against my fingers, like a blade of grass traced against my face: a tantalizingly warm commodity drawing me away from the misery of yesteryear. A puff of air blew against my closed lids, and I found myself holding my wide-eyed singer in my arms, my lips millimeters from hers, my fraudulent fingers encircling her waist. Oops. Like the thief caught red-handed in the town square, I almost dropped her then and there, gulping back a mouthful of venom. Somehow, reason kicked in as Jugurtha pointed out, "If you did so she's simply splatter on your chest breasts first. Unbound breasts first. Which would totally be hot."

"Which couldn't be all that bad," I perhaps smirked.

"It would for your penis. Her left kneecap would land right on it. I don't recommend that move."

I couldn't cause my girlfriend discomfort any longer, or discomfort in a delicate region for myself. This was a two-for-one win. Maybe.

Starched Shirt Edward, in full callow careening canon misfiring mode, bellowed, "We just saw our dearly departed mortal mother dying and you're have puerile and, might I add, disgraceful thoughts of the most sacred thing left in our life? At once, you need to place our dear little one back on the bed where she belonged, and for heaven's sake do not manhandle her." Frozen in shock, stuttering in shame, I probably had the deer before the vampire descends expression on my face.

In a quieter voice he said, "And we must contemplate on what we witnessed. And confer later." Jugurtha clapped a hand on his shoulder and nodded at me. I heard my girlfriend clear her throat and wheeze.

"You were having a bad dream about…." She stopped as if she feared hurting me, and traced my forehead with one hand tentatively, her other still touching my shoulder brushing lightly against the cotton of my shirt. "It sounded like you needed to wake up." I placed her to my left and clutched her to me, and pulled my fingers through her hair.

"Please accept my abject apologies. I hope I didn't frighten you." She required comforting after the fright I'd most assuredly given her. I required it even more at the thought of almost hurting her. Mary Alice had apparently seen this and had warned our Parents that I'd be just fine she whispered at vampire pitch when I glanced around the room wondering why they haven't prevented this. Mary Alice deserved bouquets of flowers. Too bad she couldn't eat chocolate. I'd have sent her boxes and boxes at that moment. I'd add in a fern or two to add to her collection by her porch.

I needed to exercise more control even in my sleep. I sighed as I felt her drift away against my chest. I'd had everything that mattered ripped from me on that day in 1918. I was not going to allow that to happen again. Not on my watch. I couldn't help but pull her closer into my arms than usual. I needed her touch like the selfish beast I was. I craved it. She'd become my spiritual food. And it kept me from wondering at how my human mother could be so wrong and so correct about the future. I certainly had failed to live up to any vision she might have had. I didn't blame her for asking me to be turned. Her only failure was in having faith in me. And that was not her fault. Humans were sentimental, and sometimes erred because of it, I've read.

Patting my side, my girlfriend called me back into our bed, "You're not even remotely scary, Edward Cullen." The demented woman seemed to have no sense of self-preservation as she patted my chest and snuggled against me. Her heart rate had returned to normal. She relaxed bonelessly against me. If I was really good, maybe she'd slobber a time or five on my shirt. Or my neck. Or my….never mind. There was nothing immoral about an innocent fantasy or fifty. One could dream, you know. Thank the stars Almighty, her skin stayed un-bruised.

"We'll have to work on that, my dear little algae lover."

She snorted against my shoulder. "Guilty as charged."

Me too, little girl. Me too. Honestly.

AN: The last line of this chapter is Edward responding to the "guilty" comment, not the "lover" part. I liked the endearment "dear little algae lover." It has a certain ring to it. He's falling harder, that Edward. You will know with 100% certainty that he's a goner when he mentally refers to her as "my Bella".

So Edward and his family met some Other Immortals in a non-physical kind of way. Grace decided to school the Other Immortals in manners. Emmett acted like a wet glow in the dark algae filled blanket on that whole conflict dealio. The Other Immortals permitted the Cullens to "check out" library vampire weapons provided they returned them.

Part of this chapter was inspired by an awesome story by Edgar Allen Poe. I've posted a link to it on my profile.

Starched Shirt Edward wants me to tell you that Saint George is also the patron of England, Aragon, Catalonia, Georgia, Lithuania, Palestine, Portugal, Germany, Greece, Moscow, Istanbul, Genoa and Venice.

I've posted links on my profile for this story. If you go to their official web page, there actually are records for how many Boy Scouts were members in the US in 2006. Scout's Honor.

Grace became a little defensive and decided to play show and tell. She won. Fins down. Anyone interested in Ichthyology (the study of fish - not praying to them) can learn more about Manta Rays on my profile. And I wasn't kidding about that Cephalopterus vampyrus part. Honest.

Edward's powers misbehaved in all the wrong ways. Kind of. Sort of. He is tapping me on the shoulder and insisting that I tell you that he is not a premature power user. Nor does he need supernatural spiritual Viagra, thank you very much. Edward suspects he knows why the people kept dying on the O'Shea land, having met the spirits who-dun-it. Edward learns more about Bella's past and manages to sleep with her on the first date. Sort of. Technically. Edward dreams about his family and the circumstances of his turning, and has an important chat with Hezekiah, and receives more advice from his committee. The Cullens deliberate over the state of the chaos in their lives. The Vancouver Coven has not called. Or emailed. Or written. Or sent flowers. Or dairy products. And that last part really irritates Carlisle because he gave those bastards money. He wants his stainless steel Temp-Plated © double-walled built to exacting standards milk cooler. Lots more Edward and Bella fun coming up.


Dream Edward is feeling neglected lately since Genevieve has been muzzled. He'd appreciate some attention.

Main Edward is snorting at the inglorious bastard and says he doesn't mean to brag…..but he's far more interesting.

Please review and show him some love. It might inspire me to post the next chapter early.

Because what I've written is just so wrong on so many levels.