The bedroom was dark. The only movement other than the slow rise and fall of Ellie's chest as she breathed was the gauzy curtain that rustled delicate as a cool breeze blew in through the window. Christopher, lying on his back with one hand behind his head, his other arm wrapped tightly around Ellie's sleeping form, stared unblinking at the ceiling. Even in the darkness, he could make out every tiny flaw, every particle of dust. Still, the tedium of cataloging these minute details could not fully distract him from the past day's events.
After they'd lost track of the woman, Garrett and Christopher rushed back to the house, surveying the damage and packing what they had come for in minutes. Afternoon traffic had already snarled Boston's surface streets and surrounding highways. Realizing how long it would take them to get back to New Hampshire, Christopher growled in frustration as they prepared to leave.
"Just run, I will drive the car back," Garrett insisted.
Maneuvering through the city was a challenge without a cloud in the sky to obstruct the midday sun. When the cover of trees could finally shield his movements from view, Christopher pushed his legs as fast as they would go. He knew Ellie would be frantic until he returned, especially since he had explicitly asked Edward not to reveal everything Alice had seen. Christopher felt guilty about withholding information from her, even temporarily. Still, he didn't want her to find out from anyone else that her mother didn't die in childbirth six-and-a-half decades earlier. Christopher knew that he should be the one to break the news to her: her mother was a vampire.
Christopher could hear her heartbeat for miles before he could even catch her scent. He guessed that Edward must have alerted her that he was close. Just before she came into view, he slowed, bracing as she flung herself into his arms. Her greeting was a breathless kiss, her palms pressed against his face. When she pulled away, her hands remained, and she scanned his face frantically.
"Are you hurt? Alice said there was a fight?" Her fingers slid down along his jaw to his neck, past his shoulders, and over his chest. Her eyes followed, studying him as intensely as a human patient. He would have laughed if not for the news he had to tell her. With his hands closing around her wrists, he held her still and pressed his lips to her fingers.
"I'm fine, Els. The house has a little damage—"
"I don't care about the house, Christopher. You were attacked," she interjected. "You promise you're okay? And Garrett?"
He silenced her with a soft kiss. "Ellie, I mean it. I'm okay." He kissed her once more. "But, there's something we have to talk about." With one hand, Christopher swept her hair back from her face, stroking her cheek as he struggled to find words. Her eyebrows pulled together as she read the struggle in his eyes.
"Christopher, what's wrong?"
With both of her hands held tightly in his, he told her everything that happened. He forced himself to hold her gaze.
"Ellie," he said, "When I saw her face, I recognized her right away." He swallowed back the venom that roiled in his throat as he remembered his instantaneous rage. "That picture Carlisle gave you, it was different than the one you showed me before. I couldn't figure it out, but something had been bothering me since I saw it."
"Christopher…" Ellie whispered, stepping backward and shaking her head.
"The woman that was in our house today was your mother, Ellie."
Ellie tried to pull her hands from his grip, but he wouldn't let go. "No."
"She's not dead, love. She's a vampire." Christopher watched as Ellie's body froze. It was only her heartbeat that betrayed any signs of life. For several seconds she wasn't even breathing. He released her hands, placing his fingers on her shoulders instead. "Els?"
She blinked, inhaled, and furiously shook her head. "No," she said again. "That's impossible." Turning on her heel, she took several shaky steps away from him. Feeling helpless, he eyed her uneven footsteps. He stayed in place, ready to catch her if she stumbled.
"It's not impossible, though, is it, love?" he replied in a low voice. When she turned to face him, tears clung to her lashes. In an instant, he'd closed the distance between them, holding her against him. "I'm so sorry, Els."
"I don't understand," she whispered, her fingers curling into his chest. She clung to the fabric of his shirt as if she would otherwise crumple to the ground. "If she's not dead, then why…."
She didn't need to finish her thought aloud. Christopher had already gone there in his own mind, having envisioned this conversation a thousand different ways as he ran back to her. Why would her immortal parents abandon her? Was she left in the care of that horrible nun because the alternative might have been worse? He knew the realization that her mother was indeed an immortal would only cast the questions she had just begun to ask in darker and more twisted shadows.
They stood together, frozen in place for hours. They made no move to return to the house until long after the sun had set. When they reappeared in the Cullen's foyer, most of the house's inhabitants had scattered, leaving only Carlisle, Esme, and Kate to greet them. Grave expressions dulled the refined features of their faces.
Ellie nodded numbly toward them and then turned for the stairs. "I'm going to bed," she murmured.
"Do you want me to—" Christopher was cut off when Ellie sharply shook her head.
"No." She turned and climbed the staircase, disappearing from view.
No one spoke until they were certain Ellie had fallen asleep.
"Christopher," Esme said softly, "How is she?"
Christopher leaned back in the armchair positioned next to the sofa where she and Carlisle sat together. Garrett and Kate sat together on the chair opposite from Christopher, silently watching his expression.
"She's…" Christopher began, but he didn't know what to say. Even as they made their way back to the house, Ellie had been deep inside her own thoughts. "I'm not sure," he finally said with a long sigh.
"The news must have been a terrible shock." Esme exchanged a look with Carlisle that was heavy with meaning that Christopher didn't understand. Garrett noticed the wordless exchange as well, and he flashed an inquisitive glance toward Kate.
"Carlisle," Christopher said, "Did I miss something?"
Now, alone with nothing but his own thoughts and his sleeping wife, Christopher struggled to wrap his mind around everything that Carlisle had explained. The idea that gifts like Edward's mind-reading and Jasper's mood alterations actually hurt Ellie troubled him greatly. He tried to focus instead on Carlisle's encouragement that such an ability could be strengthened and even used for defense. By the time Christopher and Ellie had returned, Kate and Garrett had already spoken to Eleazar in Alaska. The former Volturi talent scout agreed to come to New Hampshire as quickly as possible to help expedite the process.
As if on cue, Christopher's phone buzzed against the nightstand on his left. He picked it up before the noise could disturb Ellie, reading the text from Garrett.
Flight's confirmed. Eleazar, Carmen, and Tanya take off in two hours.
There was nothing to be done now, but wait. Christopher sighed and tossed the phone back onto the nightstand. Sliding down beneath the covers and rolling onto his side. Lightly brushing his fingertips over her cheekbone, he smoothed away a few strands of hair from her face. He found himself wishing again for the ability to sleep, or, at least, to know what was in her head as she slept. As Ellie's muscles began to tense and twitch, reacting to a dreamscape that Christopher could not share with her. Careful not to abruptly wake her, he reached for his wife, tucking her against his chest.
Ellie was falling.
She had never liked heights. She never felt any desire to try anything that required free-falling: no skydiving, no bungee jumping. Christopher always teased her for wanting her feet firmly on the ground, thank you very much. Ellie kept waiting for the falling to stop. She expected to hit the ground or to hit something, but she just kept dropping. She realized at some point the plummet wasn't altogether unpleasant on its own. It was the darkness that scared her.
Suddenly there was stillness, but it was still too dark to see as she finally found a foothold. She blinked, trying to force her eyes to adjust - her vision worked perfectly fine in the dark. Why couldn't she see anything? Holding her hands in front of her, she felt something flat and hard, a wall? She followed it, carefully shuffling her feet along, following the wall with her hands. She wished she could find some light.
Muffled voices echoed somewhere in the distance. Ellie could hear Christopher talking to someone; he sounded so close, but there was so much black space in front of her. She tried to call out to him, but her throat was dry and hoarse, no sound would come out. She was so thirsty.
With a sudden lurch, something yanked her away from the darkness. Now everything was bright; it was too bright. Her other senses kicked in while she waited for her eyes to adjust. A familiar musty smell filled her head. She ran her fingers across the back of a smooth wooden bench. She could still hear Christopher's voice echoing in the open space, but she couldn't see him anywhere. Looking around, she realized she was in a church. She knew this church.
A woman dressed in an old-style habit walked by. Her long skirt swished gracefully along the floor as she moved toward the confessional. Her fingers clutched a set of rosary beads.
"Sister Catherine?" Ellie forced her vocal cords to obey though her throat ached with thirst. "Sister Catherine, wait!"
Diving forward, Ellie landed on her knees as she reached to grasp the end of the old woman's dress. The nun stepped away, dodging Ellie with an inhuman swiftness. Ellie fell forward but didn't hit the dusty church floor; something soft broke her fall. She pushed herself back up, only to find a woman's body, mangled and bloodied, under her hands.
Ellie pulled her hands away and crawled backward until she ran into the side of one of the pews. Her arms were covered with the woman's blood, and to her horror, so was her face. She could taste the blood as it coated her throat.
"No," Ellie cried, hurrying back to the woman to examine her. She frantically felt for a pulsing artery in her neck, but there was no heartbeat. Her bloodied hands leaving streaks across the woman's skin. Ellie turned the dead woman's head so she could see her face. Her mother's lifeless eyes stared back at her. Ellie screamed and tried to stand and run, but Sister Catherine reappeared.
"I thought this is what you wanted," the nun said quietly, staring at the body as she gripped her rosary in hand. "I tried to warn you. Some things are better left alone, child."
Ellie shook her head, stepping backward and slipping slightly on the blood-slicked floor.
"No," she whimpered. A pounding erupted in her head, and her arms started to shake uncontrollably. Her stomach twisted as she turned away. She felt like she was going to be sick. The odor of blood swirled around her. Ellie felt something tugging her this way and that, though she wasn't moving at all. When she turned around again, Sister Catherine had disappeared. Instead, in front of her stood her mother, flashing a sickly smile with blood smeared across her mouth.
"Did you figure it out?"
Her mother's voice echoed through the empty church; the tone was melodic and almost trance-inducing. She stepped toward Ellie with a slight sway in her walk. Ellie could practically feel herself moving in sync with her. "Do you see how easy it is to get inside your head?"