A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts.
So, Muse actually Zoom-called me today! With a white-sand beach as her background, she kept me on our call long enough to provide me enough material for not one but TWO more chapters to this story! Therefore, there will be one more chapter tomorrow, and then the epilogue Saturday. :)
What follows and tomorrow's chapter, are totally brand new to the story, but they're what I imagine would've happened at this point in the tale. Had I not been limited by word count, lol, this would've been part of the contest entry.
As for whether this will be HEA…if you really want to know, read my bio on fanfiction. If you're along for the ride, no matter what, don't read my bio. :)
Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest belong to me. All mistakes are mine.
Chapter 8 - Burn
I burned.
I burned for an eternity.
For more than an eternity, if such a thing were possible, but it seemed more was possible than I'd ever imagined. It was an everlasting agony, pure torture so utterly exacting and exquisitely unbearable that I was sure this punishment was meant for the world's most wicked. How I – an average young woman from a small, northwestern town, and someone who hadn't lived long enough to be that wicked – qualified for this punishment, I didn't know. But I knew that I burned.
And I knew I wouldn't survive it; or, more accurately, I prayed I wouldn't survive this fiery hell, these scorching spasms of introduction into a new existence – an existence I'd never wanted. The pain I felt was made even worse by the concurrent fury I held within me. However, paralyzed by the scathing inferno charring my insides, I couldn't even express it. Although I could barely think amidst the blazing throes of torment, in some weak though still functioning corner of my mind, I knew I hadn't chosen this. Even more than not choosing, with my dying breath, I'd pleaded against it.
Yet, the burn continued, and I neither died nor lived but remained lodged in a limbo of scorching flames.
"It's been thirty-six hours. How much longer will she sleep?"
I recognized that voice, even amid my excruciating pangs. I hadn't heard it for…a while. Although he spoke of time in easily measured, comprehensible terms, in something as commonplace as hours, I was sure he was wrong. Either wrong or lying because there was no way it had been mere hours that I'd been in this corner of Hades. It was indeed eons.
However, the shaky, thick, and mournful voice that answered him was unfamiliar to me. And though I didn't recognize it, it sounded too honest to carry on any form of deception.
"It's different for everyone, Edward. Don't forget that the venom must make its way into every corner, into every extremity, and reanimate her limbs and her mind despite a heart that no longer beats, lungs that no longer draw breath, and a brain that no longer functions in the physiological manner it once did." The voice paused. "It took your body three days, Emmett's six…" here, the voice broke before continuing, "…and Rose slept for eight days. Since Jasper and Alice were already turned when they came to us, I'm not sure about them."
Another agonizing eternity transpired before I heard their voices again.
"Edward, I heard from the Denali sisters." The voice sounded anxious.
"And?" In turn, he sounded distracted, as if he cared little for these sisters and even less for the significance of this conversation.
"They wanted to…they wanted to apologize again for the part they played in this. It seems they've heard that the Volturi has sent Jane, Alec, and a few others to take care of the situation. Jasper, Alice…and the rest," the voice said shakily, "knocked out the lights first, so those few who managed to take pictures and upload video…I'm told the images were grainy, too shaky to make out much beyond people screaming and running around in confusion. The news outlets are calling it a natural disaster, some sort of mudslide."
"Do the Volturi expect that explanation to stand?"
The other voice sighed. "Although it doesn't happen often, this isn't the first time a coven has…lost control, and to this magnitude. While it's only recently with the development of cameras, video, and social media that it's become more difficult to cover up such…transgressions, the truth is that humans don't want to know the truth. They don't want to know that we exist in the world with them. They'll see a natural disaster," the voice said with quiet confidence. Then, it paused. "But the Volturi want the Denali sisters to present themselves, and…and I'm sure they will want to speak with you too."
"Carlisle, I'll deal with the Denali sisters and with the Volturi and with anything and everyone else later. Right now, my only concern is Bella."
More time passed. I couldn't determine its length before I heard voices again. I had no clue whether this conversation was part of the first or one that took place years later. But I knew the speakers were the same – him and this Carlisle person.
"Carlisle, I had no choice! They wanted to kill her, and then they turned on me! It was self-defense and defense of my mate!"
"I understand that, son, and I don't blame you for defending yourself and your mate. But had you not burned their remains, we might've-"
"We might've what – all lived happily ever after? Do you really believe they would've reanimated and been ready to make peace?"
"No," the other voice – Carlisle – breathed after a long moment. "No, they wouldn't have."
"Carlisle…Dad…since the moment we all left Washington before Bella's arrival, Jasper made it clear he was unhappy. He engendered confusion and distrust among us and blamed it all on my need for Bella. You heard his spoken complaints, that of our lives being upended for what he termed 'a stupid, mere mortal.' But you didn't hear his thoughts, the ones Alice continually asked me to ignore."
"What were his thoughts, Edward?" Carlisle asked.
"He was tired of our diet, tired of our non-combative way of life, tired of denying himself what he saw as our true nature, tired of rejecting what he believed the only benefits of being immortal."
"My God. Did he truly think those things?"
"Yes, he did. It was why he would've been the one to bite Bella…to kill her, had we remained in Washington when she arrived. When Alice saw that vision, she begged me to keep it to myself, to lie about it and say that we were leaving because Alice saw me killing Bella. We left to protect Bella, but it was also to protect Jasper's fragile ego."
"Dear Lord."
"And believing as he did, once I left our family and returned to Bella, he took matters into his own hands. He manipulated the Denali sisters' emotions regarding our…relationship; he encouraged their rampage, and he showed up at that field convinced and having convinced the rest that the only way to fix things, to fix everything he believed to be wrong, was by killing Bella."
"How did I not see this?"
"Because you're a good man, Carlisle; a trusting man. And because you can't read minds the way I can. Unfortunately, things escalated quickly on that field, and the fury ignited by Jasper quickly morphed into bloodlust, and…and I had no choice. She's my mate," he hissed.
"I understand, son." Despite Carlisle's claim, his voice sounded strangled by anguish. "I do. Although my dead heart feels as if it's shattered to pieces, I do understand."
"It's painful for me, too. I loved them, and I've lost them by my own hand," he hissed. "And Esme…my own mother can't even be in the same room with me."
"It's not that she can't be in the same room with you, Edward, but she's mourning, son. Give her time. It's only been a couple of days since…since it all happened. Edward, don't ever forget that you were our first son. You're our beloved son, and we will always be here for you. And now, for Bella. Always."
The burn went on and on.
However, though time occurred immeasurably, I abruptly noted that things felt…different. Though the fire was as savage as ever, I realized I was either becoming acclimated to being burned alive…or else the furnace no longer seared as hotly.
What's more, the sounds I became aware of around me grew to include more than just voices. Though one specific scent constantly surrounded me, I recognized when someone new walked into the room by their own unique scent, by their specific way of walking…by the number of times their eyes blinked in a minute. I could hear birds chirping somewhere in the distance, the gurgle of a waterfall, the pitter-patter of tiny feet scurrying as an animal scaled a tree.
"Edward?"
The voice which spoke, sounding urgent and anxious, remained by the door. I recognized it as that of the female…Esme. Her scent, soothingly sweet and calming, had surrounded me a few times by then. She wasn't alone. The scent of her mate and Edward's adoptive father, Carlisle, comingled with hers by the threshold.
"What is it?" Edward replied, his tone detached and apathetic.
They approached on quiet yet inhumanly brisk feet.
"Caius has reached out," Esme said. "He wants us to let you know that you're to…" Esme's voice broke, "Aro expects you to present yourself to the Volturi as soon as possible."
"I'm not leaving her."
"Damn it, Edward!" I heard Carlisle bang an open palm against a wall, followed by the sound of drywall slowly splintering and sending a jagged crack running from top to bottom. "I've lost four children! I refuse to lose you too!"
"Or Bella," Esme added. "They want to see the both of you," she clarified, "as soon as Bella wakes."
He…Edward said nothing, but I could hear his heavy breaths, breaths which I now knew were unnecessary, merely an innate remainder from our previous lives. I could even hear the tautening of the skin over his knuckles as his hands fisted where they rested on my stomach. In my mind's eye, I pictured the frustrated flare of his nostrils, the irately squared jaw…the black eyes.
"We don't have a lot of time," Esme went on. "They will likely use this to their advantage…to try to get something out of it."
"That's the only thing that may…that may save you." Despite the evenness of his tone, Carlisle's deep-set fear betrayed him.
In turn, Edward spoke with a deadly calm. "They always wanted me…and Alice to join their guard. Had we become a part of them, with my gift for reading minds and Alice's gift of prognostication, their power would've been almost limitless."
"You can still save yourself, my son. Edward, my heart is broken for the rest of my children," Esme said tearfully, "but you…you are Carlisle's and my first son. And if we have to give you up to the Volturi for your life to be spared…"
"Esme, think of what you're saying?" Carlisle said, horrified. "You know what they'd want from him."
"I don't care, Carlisle! He's the only son I have left!"
"And what about Bella?" Edward asked after a pause of moments or days. "What would happen with Bella?"
"The Volturi would see a regular newborn vampire as a distraction to you, to the duties they'll give you," Carlisle said.
"I won't leave her behind, Carlisle. I'll kill them before they force me to-"
In a flash, Esme's scent washed over me as if she'd rushed over. I knew, by how I'd heard a pair of small yet formidable palms smack against skin, that Esme held Edward's face caged between her hands. And I knew, by the way she hissed her words, that she was done with his bullshit.
"Edward, listen to me. Listen to me! The Volturi – Aro, Caius, and Marcus – are not your siblings! They've been around for more than centuries; they've been around for millennia because they don't play fucking games! You won't see them succumbing to the fury of a lovesick, hundred-year-old ankle-biter anytime soon, no matter how fast and strong he believes himself to be!"
"Mom, I won't allow them near her!"
"Edward, you brought her into this world by returning to that town," she spat. "The time when you could've protected her from our ways is long gone. Now, you must ensure that she can protect herself."
"How?" he seethed. "Yes, when she wakes, she'll have the strength of a newborn vampire, but once that extra strength wanes, without any special gifts-"
"What makes you think she won't possess additional gifts?"
"What makes you think she will?" he retorted.
Carlisle cut in, sounding thoughtful. "Edward…I'm sure you fought like hell to keep Bella alive during that melee, but…let's examine this. You alone against your four formidable siblings...it would've been next to impossible for you to get her out of there in one piece."
Esme took over. "From what you've told us, the four of them tried to rip her to shreds. I love you, my son, and I know you're strong, and I know you've always been the fastest of us all. But Alice was almost as fast as you, while Jasper was wily, and Rose was doggedly persistent. And Emmett…Emmett was the strongest vampire I've ever met. I'd say it took more than your speed and desperation to keep Bella from being torn apart."
There was a pause, and now…somehow…I knew this pause didn't last centuries or years or even hours.
"What are you saying," Edward said quietly, "that she…protected herself with some sort of shield?"
"Even now, when I hook up our equipment to her, I sense a resistance, as if she's putting up a type of wall."
"A shield to keep her mind if not her body concealed," Esme mused. "And a shield to protect the Volturi from attack would be as invaluable to them as Alice's premonitions would've been."
"As my mind-reading would be."
"A shield would keep her alive…and by your side," Carlisle suggested.
"What if you're wrong? What if she's not a shield?" Edward asked.
"Then, God help us all because I won't let them end the last son I have left without a fight," Esme said decisively.
After a while – a short period measured in a handful of hours at most – Esme and Carlisle left to hunt and left us alone.
Hunting was something my new set of instincts told me involved actions very different from what it would've involved in my old life. There would be no shotguns, no taking aim, skinning or cooking, and a considerable amount of blood.
Blood.
My mouth watered.
However, I knew he was watching me intently. I could feel his breath on my face, smell the delicious scent of it…remember the addictive taste of it. It was yet another temptation making me want to swallow or open my eyes. But I resisted.
He spoke again a short while later, sounding despondent.
"God, my love. Why won't you wake up? You look…perfect; unfathomably beautiful, even more so than I could've ever imagined. You look healthy. Yet your eyes remain shut. Why?"
I remained as still and silent as a- well, as a corpse.
"Did I do it wrong? Did I not feed you enough? Did I overfeed you? Dear Lord, what did I do wrong? So much pain, so much…sacrifice, and I'm not even sure I did it right. I don't doubt I made the correct choice; I doubt I performed the transformation correctly."
'…don't doubt I made the correct choice…'
I wondered at that strange phrase, that particular choice of words, and the question in my mind instinctively brought a frown to my brow.
Edward's breath caught in his throat.
"Bella?"
I allowed enough time to elapse where I knew his existing doubts would force him to question his eyes. I could almost read his mind, pick up every thought and fear in it the way he picked apart everyone else's thoughts – everyone except mine: Did he see me frown, or was it merely wishful thinking on his part? Dear Lord, did he really and truly allow me to die?
I allowed him his pain, let him stew in it for a bit. And all the while, I enjoyed his warm breath on my face.
Then, I lunged.
A/N: Thoughts?
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