A house reaches out from the ground, covered in moss, vines, and flowers, with a deep porch that encircles the entire first floor. It's an amalgam of both my expectations and what I never would have imagined. Definitely a century or more old, Victorian in style perhaps at the base of the house. But there are additions, the top two floors no doubt being the biggest, that come straight of the modern era. Smoke rises from a brick chimney, and I can only take that as a sign that at least someone is home.
With the average age of a vampire being Old As Shit, any one of them should be able to set my arm.
We exit the car, my ears pricking at the sound of a nearby stream. Charlie takes my good hand and we start up the walkway, surrounded by well cared for wildflowers.
"Wow…"
"Yeah, that's about what I said when I first came here."
"It's amazing!" I gawk, keeping my pulsing hand close to my chest. He chuckles.
"C'mon, before someone rushes us." Charlie stops at the door and moves to knock. It slides open to my surprise, Alice Brandon greeting us with wide eyes. "Told ya."
"Oh my God, Bella! I'll get Carlisle, get in here. Emmett, I told you someone got hurt!" She's gone before her sentence finishes, so we let ourselves in.
It's even more spectacular than the exterior. It's bright, open, with books and papers scattered across various surfaces. The seating varies vastly, from truly antique fainting couches to a La-Z-Boy that Charlie no doubt envies. And in the center, a sunken-in meeting place with two half-moon couches and a fire pit. But nothing seems extravagant. Yeah, a little cluttered - I haven't seen so many knickknacks in one space - but it looks collected. And the artwork isn't anything I've seen before. Beautiful, flowing abstracts and florals in bright colors. And the furniture is either original vintage, judging by the wear-and-tear, or from an Ikea catalogue.
On the far wall, just beyond a small kitchen, is a massive wall made of glass, melting the forest into the interior of the house, creating the illusion of being in the trees. Along the top of the walls, fairy lights gleam, lanterns hang, and photographs dance in the light air conditioning breeze. This place … it must look like a dream at night.
A pair appear from the corner of my eye, and my breath is caught. I've seen Carlisle Cullen before, both in person and in dreams, but his youth continues to strike me. He's relaxed, clothing loose and body language hanging. His blonde waves kiss his shoulders, and his lips kiss the cheek of the beautiful woman beside him. She must be Esme. Her face is older than his, with a divine grace that only an angel could possess. Her skin, dark as night, contrasts with the paleness of Carlisle to a near extreme. On her clothes and face, various colors of paint. And if it's in her hair, I can't tell. The cloud-like curls haloing her face is every shade of the rainbow.
Carlisle's face, unlike Esme's warm grin, has become severe.
"Isabella, this is unprecedented. What happened?" I bite my lip and look at Charlie, who has tensed visibly. Carlisle looks between the two of us and shakes his head. "Ah well, we'll take care of this, and then discuss the details. Come along, Ms. Swan. My beloved can keep Charlie under control."
Esme giggles, her voice light, like windchimes. "Of course, darling. It's good to finally know you, Bella." Carlisle taps my good hand and nods for me to follow, and we leave the warmth of the family room, and tuck away into a little infirmary hidden just under the stairway. He closes the door and crosses his arms.
"I know Edward said you were clumsy, but if Charlie brought you here, well, I can only assume the worst." His accent grows thicker with every word. He takes down a kit from an upper cabinet - the entire room full of antique and modern medical equipment - and sets it on the worn pine desk. "But at least he isn't here right now … he would be in a panic if he saw you injured."
"He uh … he really does worry about me," I chuckle, looking at the freckles growing on my hand.
"Aye, that he does. Now, lemme just.." He takes the injured hand and I wince, every little touch feeling like needles under my skin. Carlisle offers a sympathetic chirp, and lightens his grip. "I have bad news. It is definitely broken. 20 of the bones have some form of damage. Good news, it isn't your dominant hand, so schoolwork will be normal. And I can prescribe painkillers."
"How is it I'm never hurt enough to miss school?" He snorts and lets out a soft laugh, but as he starts setting my hand, his face falls into sorrow. And fear. "Is something wrong?"
"...what you and Edward are doing concerns me. It's not that I don't trust you, or him, I just … being close to humans is always a risk we take. And this level of closeness is unheard of in any vampiric circle. I just want to be absolutely sure you know what you're getting yourself into."
"I do, Carlisle. I actually hurt myself learning how to fight - or, well, not fight. It's weird …" I glance around, avoiding his rather fatherly stare. "My dad can explain it better than me."
"I see … well, so long as you keep this hand immobile and in the brace, you'll be good to go." He turns and grabs a very new bottle of pills. "A single 800 milligram ibuprofin, until I can write you a script." He places a large, white pill in my hand and gives me a metal bottle of water. I swallow it, the aftertaste making me shiver.
"Thank you, Doctor Cullen."
"Carlisle, please."
"Bella." Carlisle smiles and bows his head slightly.
"And Bella you shall be."
We emerge from the office when a crash and a curse fly from the kitchen.
"Bloody Hell!" Carlisle turns and flashes around the small dividing wall. I approach the wall and peak around. A little argument catches my attention, and I snicker.
"Is she even Italian?" Rosalie, whose hair seems more pink than blonde in this lighting, asks Emmett, a bowl of salad in her hands. She thunks it on the marble island, pulling her hair back into a bun.
"Her name is Bella after all," Emmett rationalizes, shrugging his shoulders. He starts cutting up what seems to be chicken with ease, his dreadlocks pulled back into a high ponytail. I feel a warm hand on my shoulder, Charlie's amused face just above mine. Emmett looks up in time to see our eyes just staring at him. "Oh look Rose, humans."
"Get in here you two, before he drops another pan." Rosalie calls us over, fully acknowledging me for the first time since we met a few months ago. Charlie races forward first, standing beside Emmett to get a closer look. I follow slowly, standing away from the cooking space. Sharp objects and vampires? I'm not risking it.
"Gordon Ramsay here is making a chicken cordon blu he picked up in culinary school. I hope you're hungry." Rosalie smiles, a little forced, feeling the same awkward tension as me. I clear my throat, not knowing how to make my dietary needs known to them. After all, it would be rude if I just … said I didn't want it. The air shifts around me, and I turn in time for Jasper to make his debut appearance in the kitchen. He looks down at me, and smiles.
"Well hello again. Have we uh, have we had a proper introduction?" He taps his lip, thinking.
"If by that you mean I know your name, and you know mine, then yes." I say shrugging my shoulders. Jasper shakes his head slightly, and then nods in agreement.
"That is a valid point. Still, good to see you're in once piece. I've been placing bets against Malice to see if you'll keep breathing, and so far I have lost quite a bit of dignity." He leans down and stage-whispers, "pequeña diabla makes me be her sewing dummy. Beware bets with Alice Brandon." Jasper's head perks up, and every vampire looks toward a set of stairs. "When did Edward get home?"
Music, lighter and more beautiful than I have ever heard fills my ears. While the others chatter, I follow the sound, around the wall and down a hallway, to a small door hidden beside the massive bookshelves. Sure enough, there's Edward, his upper body rocking slightly. His eyes are closed as they dance effortlessly on the baby grand piano, and from his lips, a voice to entrance.
"Ne me quitte pas," a breath, "Il faut oublier. Tout peut s'oublier. Qui s'enfuit déjà. Oublier le temps." I shouldn't want him like this. I'm intruding, I'm violating his privacy. If there's even a small chance he doesn't know I'm here...a large hand lays on my shoulder right as the music shifts. Carlisle leans down and whispers;
"He wrote this for you." He gestures to a couch on the far wall before pushing me in gently, closing the door at my back. Injured hand on my chest, I lay across the couch, my eyes closed, and listen to the song … to my song … closely.
The air shifts around me, warming. It caresses my cheeks and flows through my hair. I'm enveloped in the soft sounds of the piano, and the sweet emotions that echo through the music. After a few minutes, the music stops completely. I open my eyes and smile up at Edward, who is standing over me in shock, hands shaking.
"Bella … I uh … do you like it?" I nod, sitting up and patting the space beside me. "I shouldn't, Carlisle said that Charlie needs to speak with us...about that." He points to my hand, eyes pained for me. Still, he sits, and he takes my good hand in his. "...they like you, you know. Esme and Alice especially. Jasper is warming up to you, though. He's not much of a talker."
"I can tell. Do you know where in the house they are?"
He closes his eyes and nods. "Kitchen still, all of them. Your dad is helping Emmett make dinner. Oh," Edward snorts, "he just told Em about your diet. Poor sod was so excited to see you try the chicken. We shouldn't keep them waiting much longer."
"What do they all uh .. think of me?" I squeeze his hand, my lips pursing. "I know you said they like me, but … I don't know."
"Alice adores you, but she's known of you for a while now. She saw Charlie deciding to fix up your bedroom, because you chose to move in, and she proudly announced the opportunity for a new friend."
"That's kinda cute." Edward shake his head.
"Except Alice has a hard time understanding limits. There is a lot about our potential future that I'd be better off not having shoved into my brain at 3 in the morning." I laugh, not really paying attention to the slight bit of pink on his cheeks. "As for the other three, Rosalie thinks you're very sweet, and Emmett likened you to a Hobbit. Jasper is … anxious, but he's been on our diet for the shortest amount of time, only a few decades."
"Esme and Carlisle?" His face lights up.
"Esme wouldn't care if you had a third eye and webbed feet. She's happy to see me talking to someone that isn't one of us. Happy to see me so …" He chokes on his words, and scrambles to form a sentence. He's honestly adorable when he's flustered, I just wish he'd clue me in to what's on his mind. "And Carlisle, being the old bastard he is, threw a box of condoms at me when I mentioned the trip to Port Angeles."
I snort, cackling and falling against Edward's arm. He rolls his eyes, mockingly mimicking my laugh until he pushes me onto my side.
"Alright, alright, let's go see the others before you pee yourself." We stand, and I instantly go over to a collection of photographs and cameras on the wall. "Typical …" He stands behind me, leaning down and resting his chin on the top of my head. "Not what you expected, is it?"
"Not exactly."
"No coffins, no piled skulls in the corner. I don't think we even have cobwebs. What a disappointment this must be for you," he continues, sarcasm leaking into his tone.
I ignore his teasing, only acknowledging it with a roll of my eyes. "I expected either totally stereotypical, or completely against the grain. This house feels so eclectic, and alive."
He sighs. "It's the one place we never have to hide."
The song I heard him playing, my song, drifts in the back of my mind. The final chords, a more melancholy key, the last note hovered poignantly. I feel tears in my eyes, and I dab at them, meeting Edward's now concerned gaze with a smile.
"Sorry, that song you wrote is still playing in my head. It's beautiful."
"Thank you..." He murmurs, embarrassed. He touches the corner of my eye, trapping one I missed, and wipes it on his shirt. "Do you want to see the rest of the house? It'll be super quick, I promise."
"No coffins?" I verify, the humor in my voice not entirely masking the happiness. He takes my hand, leading me away from the cameras.
"No coffins," he promises, holding up crossed fingers.
We sneak around the kitchen, heading up the main staircase with light steps. I've no doubt that the others know we're there, but Charlie doesn't, and we can enjoy a bit of time alone before Charlie drops the atomic bomb on our peace. I slide my hand along the satin-smooth railing, taking in the warm honey-colored wood of the flooring.
"Jasper's room... Carlisle's study... Alice's room..." He points as we go past the various doors. He turns to go to the right at the end of the hall, but I stop in place, eyes locked on a massive ornament. My hand rises automatically, one finger extended to touch the large, wooden cross.
Edward's gentle grip on my wrist holds me back.
"Don't … it's older than anyone in this house. It belonged to Carlisle's father. Carved it for his church 400 years ago."
"400 years …"
"It hung on the wall above the pulpit in the vicarage where he preached. Carlisle managed to save it before the church collapsed from age about fifty years ago."
I gaze at the simple, ancient cross. I quickly do the math - and jolt from shock. The silence stretches on as I struggle to wrap my mind around the concept of so many years … and one man who lived through them all.
"Bella? You alright?" He taps the top of my head.
"How old is Carlisle?" I ask quietly, ignoring his question, still staring up.
"He just celebrated his three hundred and sixty-second birthday," Edward says. I look at him, a million questions in my eyes. He watches me carefully as he speaks. "Carlisle was born in London, in the sixteen-forties. Or so he thinks. Time wasn't marked as accurately for the common people. It was just before Cromwell's rule, though."
I stay composed, aware of his scrutiny as I listen. It's honestly easier if I pretend, at least for now, that Edward is telling me a fairy tale.
"He was the only son of a Protestant pastor, an intolerant man. He was … enthusiastic in his persecution of Catholics, and other religions. He also believed very strongly in the reality of evil. He led hunts for witches, werewolves, vampires. They killed a lot of innocent people - there are nights I can hear Carlisle begging for their forgiveness in his sleep. Pastor Cullen forced Carlisle to murder even as a child. Once he took over, they happened less and less often. But then he found a real vampire in the sewers."
His drifts to near silence, and my skin chills close to ice.
"They must have been ancient, and weak with hunger. Carlisle was young, just turned 23, strong and sturdy. He could have overpowered them, had he been fully aware. He says he remembers falling over a corpse, and then the pain of the vampire's fangs in his neck. And the venom in his blood." He pauses, editing. Honestly, I don't want to know what.
"He crawled away from the alley while a mob followed the fiend. Carlisle's father had taught the town what to do with anyone infected - he would have been burned alive. He hid in a cellar, buried himself in rotting produce for three days. It's a miracle he was able to keep silent. He realized he had become what he was taught to fear most."
I let out a soft breath, my hands going over my mouth. The change, it must have impacted Carlisle's entire view of the world, of himself.
"So, he believes he is a monster? Wholly evil?" I ask, my voice cracking.
"Not anymore." He leaves it at that, squeezing my shoulder I nod, wanting only to find Carlisle and hug him tight. It won't fix anything, but it's the best I can do. Edward boops my nose. "Let's get back to the others. Charlie has been eating his thoughts since he got here. Whatever caused this," he points to my arm, "must've been pretty big."
"And fast …" He squints at me and opens his mouth when -
"Edward, Bella, first floor; now." Charlie's voice comes out of nowhere. I yelp, loudly, falling against Edward's side. He laughs, pushing me up.
"Intercom, ma belle. We've had one for a while. C'mon, I know where they're at." We turn on our toes and go back down the stairs, Edward with an impressive pace of leaping all the way down and waiting for me with a smirk. The temptation to slap him silly arises, but a throb in my left hand tells me I'm smarter than that.
Everyone is in the living room, the couples paired off on the couch, my dad pacing in front of the fireplace, and Alice chatting with Jasper about something in her sketchbook. She catches sight of me and shoots up.
"You're okay! Good. And here Edward had already decided to -"
"Zip it, Malice!" He snaps, leading me to where Charlie waits expectantly. "Your panicked thoughts have me a bit on edge, Chief Swan." Edward admits softly.
"Well, Jasper's helped a bit. I feel like I just got done with some good reefer. But still," Charlie takes my good hand and nods for me to stand beside him, "things have changed. Greatly. Sit down, you're going to want to." He nods stiffly, and takes up the last bit of free seating - an ottoman in front of Jasper's recliner.
" … I already don't like this." I say, lips pursing. Emmett nods, shaking his head.
"Just rip the bandage off, y'all." He says with his big, goofy grin. "I'm already heartbroken that Bella won't be able to taste my amazing cooking." Rosalie swats his arm.
"I uh … I was attacked. By a vampire." The room grows still. Edward's eyes lock on me, on my arm, and he looks at Carlisle. His shoulders relax, no doubt Carlisle told him that it wasn't a bite, or that the damage isn't so bad, but his eyes stay huge. Stay angry. "Dad and I were working on my powers and he just … come from nowhere."
"It's the one that killed those two workers in Mason county, Carlisle. He and his pack are getting closer to town, and aren't backing down like we thought." Charlie wraps an arm around my shoulder and squeezes. "I wasted a diamond on him, but the bastard set his sights on Bella straight away. If he's like Alice has been saying, I don't think he'll back down."
"The tracker?" Alice asks, blinking. "I hadn't seen him decide to come to Forks. Where were you when he attacked?"
"My grandmother's cabin, between Forks and La Push. They haven't bothered the Quileutes yet, but I don't think we should take the risk. We need to draw them out, and get rid of them before someone gets killed, or worse."
"Turned." Jasper says flatley, his hand rising to his neck. "I'll need a couple days, but I can devise a trap no problem. The only trick will be to keep you away from it, Charlie. If he's got his sights on Bella, then her scent will be needed. But yours will keep him and the others in the forest."
"I'm not letting my daughter be used as bait!" Charlie looks at Carlisle, who doesn't make a move. "Carlisle, talk to that boy of yours."
"Jasper knows what he's talking about, Charlie. I do agree that the situation isn't … ideal, but we have to remember this isn't our choice to make. For now, we'll keep Bella here, with us. We have plenty of room, and our scent will block hers."
Charlie turns to Edward. "Talk some sense into them, please. I want to keep her safe."
"Dad," I pull away from him and look at the chorus of red eyes. "I want to help. I'm okay, I got away. The next girl might not be so lucky. He seems to like them … young." My stomach churns, remembering the scent of his breath, the feel of his hands on me. "I'll do whatever it takes to stop him. Like you said, it isn't the first time a Swan had to put down a rogue vampire."
"Ooh, we got a badass over here." Another slap for Emmett.
"We'll go home, I'll pack up a couple bags and I'll go to school with the Cullens for a while," I smile up at Charlie and hug him tight. "I'll call every night, and every morning. We just have to put on a show for Mom, and things will be okay. I promise."
"Bells, I don't…"
"Do you trust me?" I ask, not daring to look up. He lets out a shaky breath.
"Okay … okay. But Emmett is driving."
"Team Emmett!"
The drive back from my house is long, and tedious. I sit in the front seat of Emmett's personal vehicle - a silver Jeep, old model, with a cassette player instead of CD - legs curled to my chest. Edward tried to come with us, but Carlisle found him something else to do at the last second - making me a bedroom.
Never did I think I would find myself staying in a house full of vampires. But up until a month ago, I didn't think they existed. Imagine what I'll know exists by the time prom hits. God, have I really only been here since January?
"Penny for your thoughts, Bella?" Emmett says, turning onto the offroad.
"I just … feel guilty is all. I guess."
"You guess? Guilt is a pretty heavy feeling, darlin'. If you need to hash some things out, I'm all ears. An unbiased third party is always best for getting emotions off your chest, and I've spent less time with you than Edward has."
" … it just … because of me, so much is changing. My dad is worried I'll be killed, Edward is no doubt panicking, thinking the worst, and my friends at school are going to be giving me the third degree about coming to school with you guys tomorrow." I press my forehead to my knees and sigh. "I'm not … worth all this trouble."
"Now hold up. First of all, I never wanna hear that come from your lips again. Understood?" I hesitate, but I nod. "Not very earnest, but I'll take it. Secondly, none of us would be doing this if we didn't think you were important. Bella, you're practically family at this point. I'm pretty sure Edward would never recover if something happened to you. I've never seen him so in …" He swerves and looks behind us. "A goddamned squirrel came outta nowhere…"
We pull into the driveway, Edward and Esme waiting for us on the porch.
"I'll take these to your room, Bella." Emmett says, grabbing my backpack and suitcase.
"I can get …" and off he goes, "...them. Thank you, Emmett!" I approach the giggling woman on the porch, shaking my head. "Is he always like this?"
"You get used to it," Edward chimes in, shaking his head. "How's your arm feeling?"
"Like it's been shattered by Dracula himself." Twin deadpan expressions make me glow with pride. "You're welcome."
"Alright," Esme pecks Edward's cheek, and then mine, sending a shock of cold through my skin, "I'm off to bed. Remember, you have school tomorrow. Any homework is done by midnight, and snacks are always available in the kitchen."
"She came up with these on the fly, just so we're clear on that. Normally, the only rule is not to knock on their door when there's a sock on the handle." Esme smacks the back of Edward's cackling head before vanishing into the house. "C'mon, I'll show you to your room."