Edward and I pass the familiar first two floors quickly, chatting absently about our cover story for tomorrow in class. I spot Carlisle's cross from down the hall, slowly stopping a few feet away. My mind knows his age, and about him. But I still can't get over it. Get over how much he must have seen. I don't realize I stopped in front of Carlisle's office until Edward taps my shoulder.
"Hey, c'mon, let's get to your room before it gets too late." He looks to the door for a moment, brows furrowed. He whispers under his breath, and glances down at me.
"It's open," Carlisle's voice calls. Edward opens the door to a high-ceilinged, with a tall, stained-glass window illuminated by fairy lights and a rather antique looking lamp on the desk. The walls are paneled in a dark wood where visible, most of the space taken up by towering bookshelves that reach high above my head, and hold more books than I've ever seen outside a library. The majority look original, all in mint condition.
Carlisle sits behind a huge mahogany desk in a leather chair, placing a bookmark in a massive tome. Though Carlisle appears far too young to even be a teacher, the air of authority cannot be ignored. It's like I'm in the presence of a Harvard professor.
"I heard you two gossiping about me earlier," he says pleasantly, rising from his seat. "You do realize it is rude to talk behind someone's back." The curl of his lip makes my heart calm slowly, and Edward chuckles.
"I was just showing Bella some of our history," Edward says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well ... your history."
"We didn't mean to disturb you," I apologize, looking down.
"Not at all." Carlisle waves his hand, a soft but sad smile on his face. "Though Edward got some of the details wrong. I'd be happy to correct. Where shall I start?"
"The sewers," Edward says, placing one hand lightly on my shoulder. I look over at him and notice one wall out of place. I turn to the doorway and gasp. There are no shelves on this good, but framed paintings and photographs of all shapes, sizes, and colors. I search closely for a connection between them all, and find only one. A baby-faced young man with blonde hair. Carlisle.
Edward guides me toward the far-left side, standing me in front of a small square oil painting in a plain wooden frame. This one doesn't stand out among the bigger and brighter pieces; painted in varying tones of sepia, it shows a miniature city full of steeply slanted roofs, with thin spires atop a few scattered towers. A wide river filled the foreground, crossed by a bridge covered with structures that looked like tiny cathedrals
"The London of my youth," Carlisle says a few feet behind us. I flinch; I hadn't heard him approach. Edward squeezes my hand. "Azrael, the vampire who changed me, hid an entire coven under these sewers." He runs his finger over the lower part of the glass cover. "When the mob responded to my cries, he let them to slaughter."
"What happened then?" I finally ask, staring up at Carlisle, his age visible in the depths of his dark eyes. "When you came to terms with … what you became?"
He glances away from the paintings, away from Edward and I, his shoulders sagging. "I knew what I was right away. And I couldn't stand it. I did everything I could think of to destroy myself. Jumping from cliffs, drowning. And then, starving myself. I didn't drink a single ounce of blood, hoping I would wither away."
"What?" I don't mean to say it aloud, but the word breaks through my shock. "Is that even possible?"
"No. I was weakened, but we can only be killed, I learned, by fire, or by something harder than our skin."
I open my mouth to ask, but he raises his hand, cutting me off respectfully.
"I'm sorry, I can't continue. Our nomadic companions have sent another body to the morgue, and I need to be there to intercept Chief Swan and the investigation." Carlisle shakes his head and brushes a stray lock of hair from his face. "The sooner we get rid of them the better. Have a good night, Bella."
"Best of luck, Carlisle." Edward says somberly, a trembling hand at my good wrist. The good doctor nods and flashes away, his vehicle starting out in the distance. I slide my hand to Edward's fingers and lace them. "What are you thinking?"
"I want to hear the rest of it. Please." He nods and gestures to the paintings.
"His entire life is documented here. After decades of hiding from humans, of trying to kill himself, of a fear of burning in Hell after so many years of senseless murder before his soul was - in his mind - condemned, he just kept on walking. Kept on hiding. And then his willpower snapped, right as an unfortunate herd of deer fell into his sight." He lays his hand over a small landscape, the shadows on the ground showing the shape of unseen shapes - deer? "And so, he started the philosophy we all follow. He fed on animals, and became a doctor to repay the world what he had stolen for so long.
Edward sighs, leaning against the wall. His face is somber, his eyes downcast. I squeeze his hand and speak softly.
"Is … is something wrong?"
"I'm still anticipating it. For something is going to be too much, and you'll run away. Screaming as you go." He gives half a smile, but his eyes stay serious. "I won't stop you when it happens. As much as I want to be wi … around you, I'll completely understand if you don't want to be around me..." He trails off, staring at my face. Waiting.
"I'm not running anywhere," I stay, crossing my arms.
"We'll see..."
I nudge him. "So, go on. What happened next?" He looks down at me, and I can see the reflection of my face in his eyes. Wide eyes, and an excited grin. Like a child waiting for grandfather to tell them a story.
He bites his lip, eyes wandering the room before stopping on the largest, most ornate painting in the room. Twice as wide as the door, the canvas overflows with bright figures in swirling robes, the cloth dancing around the pillars and draping down a marble balcony. I can't tell if this is Biblical or Greek Gods in inspiration, but the four men depicted are angelic.
"I can't describe the struggle of working with human blood, but after two centuries of forced will, he can. Two centuries, and not a drop touched his lips while he fought bloodlust. And now, he can barely smell it. But he wasn't the only vampire in medicine. He found a similar soul with similar ideals."
He touches the sedate quartet of figures painted on the highest balcony, looking down on the mayhem below them, the slaughter of innocents and maiming of animals. I examine the grouping carefully and realize, with a startled laugh, that I know the golden-haired man at the far right.
"Solimena was greatly inspired by their appearance, treating them as gods," Edward sneers, terrifying anger flashing through his eyes. "Aro, Marcus, and Caius Volturi," he says, pointing to the two with brown hair, and one with icy white. "Nighttime patrons of the arts, of medicine, and veritable vampire royalty."
"What happened to them?" I wonder aloud, my fingertip hovering a centimeter from the figures on the canvas.
"They're still there." He says, an edge to his voice. "Residing in Volterra, Italy. He stayed with them for a few decades, thinking they would become family. But they tried to make him kill humans. They treat the entire race as something below them, as if they weren't human at one point. Something to herd and abuse and devour. He came to America not long after that, began traveling and practicing medicine." When Edward turns back to me, a gentle angel's smile lights his expression. "And so we've come full circle," he concludes.
"Have you always stayed with Carlisle, then?" I ask softly, my lips trembling. He hesitates, hugging himself and shaking his head.
"Almost always. I did mention a rebellious phase, didn't I?" He leads us from the office, doors closing quietly behind us.
"You did mention it, yes." He swallows hard, not at all wanting to answer. "You don't have to..."
"Yes I do. Ten years after I was created… born … whatever you want to call it, we had a falling out. I wasn't sold on his life of abstinence, and I resented him for curbing my appetite, and for creating me at all. I went off on my own for a time."
"Whoa, really?" I feel intrigued rather than frightened, the logic center of my brain taking a back-seat to the curiosity that builds. We start up the stairs to the third floor, my eyes trained on the floor just to be safe.
"You aren't repulsed?"
"Nope."
"Why?"
"You said yourself that even the strongest fall off the wagon. And I know that from experience. Besides, like I said before, I trust you." He barks out a laugh and flicks my nose.
"Since this second life began," he says guiding me down the light blue halls of the third floor, "I had the advantage of knowing what everyone around me was thinking. That's why it took me so long to defy Carlisle. He was always so sincere, even when under the ruse of a young, American doctor.
"It took years, but I returned. On my knees, begging for forgiveness. I thought I wouldn't feel guilt. But I did. I could hear their terror when I killed them." His eyes hit the floor, and he takes in a shaking breath. "I didn't recognize myself. I saw the monster Carlisle feared as a child. No matter the justification, I felt cruel. And they both welcomed me with open arms, crying and hugging me for a solid day. It was more than I deserved."
Edward stops at the end of the hallway, a white door with the words "Bella's Room" written in green on the front. Around my name are hearts, flowers, and a butterfly. My brow raises and I squint.
"Alice?"
"Esme." He opens the door and grins triumphantly. "Me."
I cross the threshold, my jaw dropping. A four-poster queen bed with green curtains draws me in, the deep brown wood marbled with age lines. To my left, two hold walls of bookshelves and a little nook tucked against a round window. To my right, a work desk, a set of beanbag chairs, and a fuzzy purple rug. The walls are a warm golden brown, with photographs of Phoenix sprinkled around them. I choke up, feeling warmth run down my cheeks.
"Did we do alright?" I nod, hugging Edward tight, squeaking as pain shocks through my broken wrist, and go deeper inside, launching myself on the bed. Pillows shoot up, flopping at my sides and on my head. "Oh my god, you're 12."
"You shut your whore mouth, Edward."
A second voice joins Edward's in laughing, and I sit up, making my glasses straight on my face. Alice is standing beside him, shaking her head. She's in a massive t-shirt and sweatpants, looking almost nothing like the fashionista she is everywhere else.
"I'm glad you're settling in," she says, looking incredibly small next to Edward. "I got some clothes for you, I hope that's okay. Edward helped, since we've got different tastes." She zooms to a dresser and pulls out a shirt, sitting next to me on the bed and spreading it out. "I got Freddy, Jason, Michael, and Leatherface on one shirt for you!" Alice bounces in her seat, fingers drumming on her legs.
"Alice, this is amazing! Thank you," I lean over and hug her, and she hugs me back, making my spine crack a bit.
"Ah! Sorry, sorry." Her eyes flicker around, cheeks flushing red. "I uh … don't really touch humans that much. I'll be more careful, I promise! Don't forget to ride with Jasper and I tomorrow - we're going to go over the plan in the morning." Alice ruffles my hair and heads to the door, hopping and giving Edward a quick kiss on the cheek.
"Lively little pixie, isn't she?" Edward grabs the knob, backing outside. "My bedroom is just down the hall should you need me. If anyone gets too loud, I wholly recommend using your headphones. Especially with Rosalie and Emmett." He shivers in disgust. "Hard to get those thoughts out of my nightmares. Goodnight, ma belle."
"Sweet dreams, Edward." I turn off the lights and roll myself up in the comforter, hoping that everything will be easy, be quick, and that my dad will be safe from the vampire we're after.
Almost as if acting on script, Jessica approaches me at the school with a wide, confused look in her eyes. I smile and wave, going off to the side with her so the other cars can pull in.
"Were you at Edward Cullen's last night?"
"Yeah, at my dad's insistence. He's leaving town for a few days, and he knows the Cullens will look after me. We talk to each other before bed, he keeps me updated. It's pretty chill."
"Leaving town? But what about the animal attacks? Shouldn't he be leading the search?" Jessica's solid point makes me jolt inside. I force my face to stay straight, brow twitching from the lie I have to pull from my ass.
"He's going to other towns with similar attacks," actually true. "And gathering other police officers to go with him into the forest down here," not at all true. "He said something about establishing a kill pattern to figure out what the animal is. My money is on a pissed off bear."
From the distance, Emmett starts cackling like mad, Edward having to wack his shoulder with a book to calm him down. Thankfully, Jessica didn't notice, her lips pursed together. This has to be her thinking face, she makes it so often during our Trig tests.
"Anyway, how did the dance go? Was Tyler a gentleman?" The change in subject makes her face brighten.
"It was amazing! We actually got voted King and Queen. You should have seen Mike's face when we got on stage, he was so mad." We laugh, my mental image likely not the exact expression. Though I'm also imagining him pouting like a toddler the entire time.
"I'm happy for you Jess, truly." We head to our first classes together, and from across the hall I see Edward and Jasper, nodding and winking in my direction. Okay, she believed me. One step down. I'm not looking forward to part two.
[Leave out all the rest]
His room faces south, with a wall-sized window showing the upper layers of the forest. The whole back side of the house has to be glass. I haven't seen anything else this way. I spot the Sol Duc River, winding around the untouched forest and toward the Olympic mountains. They are much closer than I imagined them.
With music playing softly in the background, Edward and I try to focus on our assignments - though I'm pretty sure that his is for show, the page seems filled out from my angle. We're settled on a worn-in couch, him on his back, legs resting against the wall, and me curled on the other end, books stacked beside me.
"How is it I need to know the exact date of Napoleon's death, but there isn't even a Home Ec. extracurricular in this school?" I set another book on the history text, scanning for key vocabulary words.
"Because the principal thinks the failing football team is more important than actual life skills. You know, some people think Napoleon died in South America? Yeah, it was a huge conspiracy ages ago. I think it's shit, but he was way before my time."
"You gotta be younger than something, Edward." The music changes to classical and my head shoots up. "Hey, Linkin Park! Nice choice. How the hell is your music organized?"
"First by year, then genre, then preference." He holds up three fingers. "It's completely randomized on my phone, but the walls of CDs and vinyls is pretty much everything I have on it." He lowers his work and rolls his eyes to the side, "I may even have some 8-tracks somewhere." We look around the room, walls draped in dark, heavy cloth and a simple single bed tucked into the corner. And on the floor? Evidence that he is as messy as every other 20-year-old on the planet. "...yeah, somewhere."
"It amazes me that, for someone as old as you are, you're less organized than I am. And I lost two of the three Jane Austin essay copies I made." A pencil makes contact with my cheek. "Hey, don't attack the impaired." I hold up my braced arm and he sticks his tongue out.
"Don't mock your elders." I close my books and flop onto my side, cheek landing on Edward's chest. "I am not your pillow."
"My head hurts and your body is like an ice pack." I remove my glasses so the arms won't bend. "Besides, if we're really going forward with Jasper's bait plan, then I should probably be in decent condition. Can't run for my life with a throbbing frontal lobe." I close my eyes, blocking out Edward's constant poking of my forehead. I roll on my face and grumble at him.
The door opens, and Esme's twinkling laugh hits my ears. "Edward, did you tire out the poor girl?"
"She did this to herself, cross my heart, Esme." His cold fingers run through my hair, no doubt he has his crooked smile on full display for her. A smaller hand fluffs the hair on the back of my head and sighs.
"Carlisle is going to be home in an hour, he's taking the others hunting before we go to the field. Do you want me to watch her so you can go?"
"No, but thank you. I went last night, you go right on out. We'll be fine here. Besides … I'm pretty comfortable as I am." There's a heavy silence. I hear cloth shift, and Esme's voice is a little closer.
"You should tell her before this all goes down, Edward." I hear a kiss and she walks from the room. "Tell her to call Charlie before we leave."
"No problem, Esme. See you in an hour." The door closes, and after a couple minutes of nothing Edward flicks my head. "It's rude to fake sleep when someone visits." I reach over and cover his mouth, shushing him. His tongue hits my fingers and I yelp, jumping backwards. "Gross but effective."
"You're lucky I already broke my hand, or I'd break it slapping you." Edward chuckles smuggly, handing me my phone from the end table. "Thank you." I dial Charlie's number and hold it to my ear. "John Harker to Dr. VanHelsing. Come in, VanHelsing."
"This is Abraham VanHelsing, how are things out in Dracula's castle?" I can hear the food in his mouth, the semi-gross popping makes my stomach churn.
"If you don't swallow that bite…"
"Ah, sorry!" A dramatic gulp. "Sorry, I've been noshing like crazy since you left. I have no idea how many of those little cakes I've eaten today. How was school? How's the plan?"
"School was fine, boring as always. Save the volleyball game, which is always Hell. Jasper and Emmett snuck in a recorded me falling on my ass repeatedly." My eyes narrow at the resounding snickers from the other end of the line. "I'll get you for that. And uh, Jasper said we're going to go forward with it on Friday. According to Alice, the blonde guy is still debating killing me, which is …eehhh." I hear something snap and see that Edward has bitten a metal pen in half. I have a feeling this represents his current mental state.
"So what is the plan?"
"Get their attention during the thunderstorm. We've thrown a few ideas back and forth, from the girls wearing my jackets to Edward and the guys playing hot-potato with me in the forest."
"The Fantastic Flying Girl."
"Yeah, really. Not a fan of that one," I glance at Edward who is avoiding my eyes by checking my homework, his lips curled together. "We could always make a ton of noise no animal could do." Charlie laughs at that, and I hear the crunch of gravel. "Are you driving? Should I hang up?"
"You're on my speaker, don't worry. Y'all should do something stupid, like playing football or something up there. Can you imagine the look on their faces, spotting Emmett with a pigskin two seconds before Edward and Carlisle knock him on his ass."
"Oh man, I'll have to take my phone to record it. How's the traveling?" The couch shifts behind me, a cool, slender hand playing with the fluffy friz on the top of my head. I glance up, not seeing a thing with the combination of sightlines and my lack of glasses.
"It is what it is. Do I like it? Ha! No. But if Carlisle and Jasper think it's the smart move, and you're on board with it, then I'm not quite as afraid as I would be. You just … work on your blocking, okay? Have one of them work with you. For your old man's sake."
"For your sake, and mine, Dad. I'm gonna get something to eat and then get some practice in. After homework. Vampire attacks don't delay high school."
"You bet your ass they don't. Alright, I'm gonna get back to driving. I just passed a patrolman and I'm in your truck. Better safe than ticketed."
"Drive safe, don't piss off any cops."
"I'll do my best, hon. I love you."
"Love you too, Dad. Bye." He hangs up first, and I drop the phone beside me. Though fuzzy, I manage to spot Edward a couple feet in front of me, with his phone out. Snickering like mad. I reach up, meeting a tiny, cold hand. "Alice?"
"Yep! I heard what your dad said. What does he mean by blocking?" She leans over, her fake glasses falling on my lap. "Is it like the mind thing you do to Edward?"
"Well, yeah. I can make my shield a physical thing. He thinks it'll help with keeping the vampire off me."
"That's a good idea!" She squeaks, rising and clapping just out of my line of sight. "Edward, can I help her with that? Can I please?"
"Well, Malice, that isn't up to me. That's Miss Swan's choice." I pick my glasses up and regain my sight, Alice sliding down and sitting beside me with her bottom lip out. "Aww, she's begging."
"I am not!" She picks up a throw pillow and fulfils the first part of the name, hitting Edward with enough force to make him fall back on his bed. He bounces and settles, feet somehow still on the floor. "It is very dusty up there."
I reach over and pat Alice's hand. "Hey, if you wanna help, then can you get a few things and find somewhere where we won't break a window?"
"Oh, I know the perfect place," she bounces, clapping her hands. "Jasper uses the basement to practice combat techniques every evening. And since he'll be okay with us borrowing it," she says while texting, "I'll go down right now. What will we need?"
"Projectiles." I see Edward shoot up from his bed, face blank.
"I need to get Esme's camera," and off he goes.
The self-described combat room is pretty well what I assumed it would be. Steel walls, dented heavily, with sealed cracks on occasion. Pushed out of the way are semi-destroyed models of animals and people, none of them showing the animalistic instinct I've come to expect from a vampire.
Alice is standing at the far end, bouncing on her toes and singing to herself, at her hip two sacks I can only pray have no rocks in them. Jasper is sitting on a set of bleachers with Edward and Emmett, who look extremely entertained. Emmett, who arrived just moments ago with Jasper, is giddy as a schoolgirl, eyes darting from me to Alice like it's a deathmatch. And maybe it is? I have no idea how hard the pixie just ten yards away can throw.
I close my eyes, let out a breath, and feel my shield manifest at my hands. The crowd of three oo's and aah's, and a clap echos through the room.
"Go Bella!" Emmett calls out.
"Okay, please don't try and knock me out, Alice," I say in a normal tone, knowing she can hear me just fine. "Aim toward me, don't use all your strength. Oh, this is more nerve wracking than with my dad."
"You can do this. Head's up, Bella." The first projectile comes hurdling at me, a simple baseball that look worn out. I swing my hand out, sending it sailing into the wall. I feel my left arm throb sharply and hiss, my shield wavering.
I straighten my posture, raise my right hand and shout "Again!" She nods and sends something shiny headed my why. I step forward, punting it with the side of my forearm, the glass figurine shattering and cutting into my sleeve. I don't feel a sting on my skin, and I ready for another one, watching glass crystals dance around the air and land all around me.
Someone starts shouting to Alice, but I block them out, eyeballing her bag and reaching for it. The bag starts rising, and before I realize what's happening, it slams against the wall, everything inside busting out and either rolling around or breaking into pieces.
All eyes fall on me, all mouths agape in shock. I look at my hand and blink. Edward's hand envelopes mine, his fingers checking me over for knicks of any kind. I look at him, feeling the stupid grin on my face.
"Did you see that?" I grab his shirt, shaking him. "I picked up the bag. With my brain! Did you see that?"
"Y-yes, I did. Are you feeling okay? I haven't seen you do something like that since…"
"Dude, fuck those guys. They're not a problem anyway," I look at Emmett and Jasper, who are flanking Edward. "I moved the bag! With my head!"
"You sure she's human?" Emmett asks Edward, his brows furrowed.
"She doesn't smell like anything else, Em," Jasper cuts in, his face hard set. "But she doesn't act like one, that's for damn sure." He pats my shoulder and smiles, his eyes wrinkling like an old man. "Well done, Bella. But uh, you should get some sleep. We all should. Day after next is the big day. And we still need to decide how to draw them in before they leave."
"Wouldn't it be better to just … make a huge, unnatural racket?" I ask. "I dunno, we could play baseball in the middle of a field or something." The three guys exchange a look, and I take a step back. "Hey wait no, I was joking!"