A/N: I am a woman of my word.
Black Swan
Chapter 38
Over the next month, we cross twenty-five state lines, from Wisconsin to Alabama, and Florida to Maine, and visited close to one hundred vampire bars and nightclubs. During which time, I relearned to turn my shield off and on as well as stretch it to roughly thirty feet in diameter.
The anniversary of my human birth also passed without consequence, making me now ninety years old. My seventy-third birthday as an immortal passed as I slept, and sleep is something I realize I now need as a matter of survival. I require no less than five hours every two weeks, and while Rose envies me over it, I have never taken for granted a vampire's inability to sleep more.
I don't have one minute of time to spare, let alone five hours.
We were forced to lay over in a hotel room one night as I recharged. Rose and Jane watched over me, but it did nothing to lessen my anxiety over Edward. After all, who was watching him while he slept—while he was so vulnerable?
I constantly wonder whether other vampires are aware that he needs sleep. It appears his only weakness, but whether they are or not, what I quickly realize is that almost everyone we encountered has seen Edward at some point, and while few even spoke to him, most avoided him like the plague.
Still, we continued on, meeting immortal after immortal, newborn after newborn, human after human.
In one bar in Tennessee, Emmett got into a fight with an immortal in his first year of life who wanted to compare his strength. It was over in less than a minute; Emmett practically dismembered him. In another, a several-decades-old vampire made a move on Kate, and for one moment, Garrett almost lost his mind. A similar thing happened to Rose but ended with a lot less drama the instant he saw her mate.
Not one approached me to talk, let alone came onto me, and it was for one reason, and one reason only. They all fear Edward, and with good cause; he's killed more than his fair share of immortals. From what I could ascertain from the minds of those we crossed, Edward is quick-tempered and for the most part acts on impulse.
He's still a newborn I'm forced to reconcile, and while he's immensely strong and gifted, he's still so incredibly reckless. Still, he's only killed vampires who were unmated, so while he's angry, heartbreak is the predominant emotion he exists by.
That alone terrifies me, but he's keeping himself occupied. I soon found out that Emily's story is not an exception, and over the last couple of years, Edward's become something of a vigilante in our world. He helps anyone brave enough to approach him, and will appoint himself judge, jury and executioner. He can also track a human and vampire better than any who has ever been created, so there is absolutely no hiding from him.
While most vampires are born with one dominating attribute—Emmett and his strength, for example—Edward is exceptional across the board.
Aro has taken certain measures to ensure the knowledge of passing along gifts is kept to a select few. He fears he will come redundant in the event a new generation of gifted vampires is created. Outside of my family, the circumstances behind Edward's turning is only known among the high ranking members of the Volturi. As far as Jane's aware, Edward has not divulged any details of his creation, and is seen as nothing more than a very rare anomaly among our kind.
Even still, Valentina took Jane's blood for several months before she was turned and was born into immortality with average strength and senses and no special ability other than that which Jane passed onto her. Edward being my singer is the paradigm, and Carlisle believes had I been the human and Edward the vampire, my blood would have also sang to him.
"You look tired," Jane notes after returning from the bar and placing a vodka A-negative on the rocks before me. Edward or not, beer makes me want to vomit.
I shrug dolefully and tug the plastic straw into my mouth. I've slept twice already and the novelty has well and truly worn off. "I'm fine. Where's Rose?" I enquire.
She left a few minutes ago without explanation and hasn't returned. Emmett went with her.
Jane glances over her shoulder before back to me with a quick grin. "She should be coming along soon."
I sigh heavily and look up, my eyes locking with the naive awe of a newborn who's heard the rumors about me. I scowl deeply at him before centering my focus back to Jane. I'm no closer to finding Edward than I was at the beginning of this Mecca of immortal nightlife and I'm beginning to feel wearied.
But then that could be the encroaching fatigue.
We're in Philadelphia, on our way back home, in the most ridiculously-named vampire bar to date—Raise The Stakes. Its patrons are even more ridiculous. It's filled to the brim with newborns and humans all dressed like they're heading to an audition for a cheap theatrical play about Dracula.
"Get away from me, you idiot!" I snap at the clueless human boy who approaches with the intention of asking me to bite him. He's obviously watched more movies than Edward because he actually believes that's all it takes to become immortal.
Jane inflicts pain on him and he promptly faints and falls face-first to the floor as blood spills from his broken nose. The newborns swarm him and that's when I'm officially done. I pull myself to my feet abruptly, shoving my way roughly past them on my way out.
Rose meets me on the sidewalk at the entrance—a Tim Horton's façade.
"That was Carlisle," she says with a sigh, raising her phone in emphasis. "We need to go home."
"Why? What happened?" I ask suspiciously and a little too desperately, but I'm more than ready for this to be over and to have my mate back.
She shakes her head even as she subtly avoids my gaze. "He didn't say."
"Edward called," Emmett discloses matter-of-factly, and by the monotone of his voice, nothing good came of it.
"And?" I utter, almost choking on that one word.
He mirrors his mate and bows his head. "Let's just head home."
Not satisfied, I turn back to Rose and yank her to me by the front of her silk dress, but before I can tear off several buttons, Emmett intercepts me. "Rose, tell me!"
"I don't know any more than that," she replies a little too beseechingly, and with a gushing sigh, I release her.
"Let's go then," I murmur, my head bowing into my outstretched palm. Exhaustion is inundating me and I'm uncertain whether it's physical or mental.
While Rose, Emmett, Garrett and Kate decide to drive back in Rose's Merc, Jane, Leo and I run.
I don't have the patience for a five hour drive right now, even if it is three times over the speed limit.
I arrive home in just under an hour—well ahead of Jane and her mate—a mud splattered, disheveled mess; my clothes hanging from me like rags.
"We've had a setback," Carlisle informs me, expelling a heavy breath, and placing his hands on his hips, he lets his head hang.
Edward, Sweetheart, I'd never do that to you. Please just listen...
It was Esme who spoke to him, and Carlisle's mind is still fresh and overrunning with it. He's troubled by it. More than troubled. Edward was yelling at her. Threatening her.
"Your mother's in the next room," he says quietly, well aware of what I just saw before his gold eyes motion to the right of him.
Walking past him, I push against the swinging door to the kitchen where Esme is leaning against the island bench with Alice and Jasper beside her. Even with my shield up, I can still feel the effects of my brother's calming aura prickling the air like static electricity as tears spill quietly down my mother's face.
I will fucking kill her, Esme—and then you! Even through the phone, his voice was like pure venom and he wasn't even remotely bluffing.
"That stupid, stupid, idiot boy—I'm going to kill him!" I burst, the words flying out of my mouth before I can stop them, but I'm suddenly burning with anger.
Edward threatening to kill Esme? I cannot fathom it, nor can I even begin to tolerate it.
"Bella, he's not thinking clearly. He's in pain, that's all," she promises, taking a step toward me even as she continues to project Edward's words back to me. "He—"
"He saw your mother's mind through the phone," Carlisle interjects, following me into the room and placing a protective arm around his wife's shoulders. "We didn't anticipate it, but he evidently couldn't see as clearly because he completely misconstrued the situation. Bella, he thinks you're an imposter, a lookalike, and we're attempting to replace you in his life. As you can see, he didn't take it well."
"Bella, I'm so sorry." Esme continues to quietly weep, and turning to her, Carlisle presses his lips gently to her temple.
"It wasn't your fault, darling," he soothes her tenderly.
How dare you do this?! It's only been five years—five fucking years, Esme! Edward's irate voice continues to rage through her mind as she buries her face into her husband's shoulder.
At that point, Carlisle snatched the phone from her hand. "Edward, you will not speak to your—"
Do you think this is a joke, Carlisle?! I don't know who the fuck you even are anymore, so get rid of her before I do!
I clamp both my hands to my ears in a futile attempt to shut it out while fighting the urge to not tear my own hair out. Not in all my seventy years as a sullen, disrespectful teenager have I ever reduced my mother to tears like this, and to know Edward is the result of it is no consolation.
"But...but h-he saw your visions of me, Alice!" I blurt, stumbling over my own words as I struggle to comprehend it.
"He's accepted your death now, Bella," she replies with a discernible edge of resignation behind her voice.
"But..." I attempt a second time when my father softly breaks in.
"Bella?"
I turn to meet Carlisle's pensive gaze beginning to feel almost unbalanced. "What?" I whisper.
He opens his mouth to reply, but appearing to abandon it, he turns back to his wife to comfort her. I only watch them for a moment; at the gentle, responsive interactions between a vampire and his mate.
Inhaling a deflated breath, I release it and allow my shoulders to slump, before turning back to Alice. "Where is he?" I ask flatly, but what I really want to ask is whether Edward has any redeeming qualities held over from mortality that I'll recognize.
Will I know my human boy at all in the immortal he's become? It's a question I've asked myself more than once now, but this is the first time I've ever really feared the answer.
"He's just made it to Alaska from Russia," she answers quietly. "He's coming down through British Columbia."
Her vision of him is clear, but I immediately squeeze my eyes closed as a defensive against it. I can't see him.
"Perhaps he will stop and visit Carmen and Eleazar," Carlisle ventures as Alice immediately shakes her head to the contrary.
"He won't. He's not sure who to trust right now. Bella," she directs her attention squarely to me, "you're going to have to track him yourself—alone." She's serious as far as I can tell, but I still scoff out how pointless and completely ridiculous that is.
"How do you expect me to do that? I'm not a tracker," I remind her. My senses might be sharper, but tracking has never been my forte.
She's before me in the next instant, her small hands clamping around my upper arms. "You don't have to be. You just have to make him aware of your presence. He'll sense you from a few miles out and he'll find you. Once he's within a certain distance he'll not only hear your thoughts but recognize your scent. I'll keep you posted on his whereabouts."
"W-here? I mean, when?" I stammer. I suddenly feel like the floor is dropping out from under me. For the first time since I woke, I realize I'm reluctant to find my mate. I'm afraid of what I might see when I do, and what I'll be forced to confront.
"Two days, maybe three."
"You mean to tell me I exposed myself to every vampire on the eastern half of the country when Edward's entering from the west?" I laugh once, dryly and completely without humor. "Fantastic."
"I didn't see him reacting to Esme like that, either. I'm sorry," she mumbles, her voice bleeding with guilt as she severs my gaze and turns to Jasper.
"It's not your fault, it's mine," I admit, as my voice hitches softly with shame, and just as she opens her mouth to question me, I quickly explain myself. "I ignored your call that day, Alice. This is all my fault."
"Bella..." she begins softly, her brow furrowed over deeply afflicted dark amber eyes.
"That kind of thinking isn't conducive, Bella," Carlisle says quietly. "We have to look forward."
I clear my throat hastily and lightly shake my head. "What about when I need to sleep?" I put my question back to Alice.
"Nothing bad is going to happen," she assures me. "Just keep your shield down – at all times! I'll need to read you as well as Edward. Just remember that Edward will keep his shield up. He never lowers it."
I scoff again at her assumptions. "I won't need to see into his mind to know him."
"But you won't know what he's thinking," she clarifies as her eyes dart fleetingly from me so fast I almost miss it. She's attempting to block me with I'm Henry the 8th, I am, like she once did with Edward, but it's not enough; she's seeing him with black eyes and an expression of pure murder of his face.
My back immediately straightens, my mouth falling open, as something akin to alarm simmers in the pit of my stomach. "What are you saying, Alice? Will he attack me?"
She shakes her head, but the way in which she does suggests she's unsure of it herself. "Just keep your shield down."
"Alice," Carlisle speaks up, breaking from Esme to approach her, "is Bella in danger?"
Alice frowns deeply, her expression becoming as indecisive as it is certain. She opens her mouth to answer when a grainy image of Edward cradling me in his arms passes rapidly through her thoughts. "No. No," she repeats, cementing it, or convincing herself of it, for all I know right now.
But Edward openly attacking me? It doesn't exist in any realm of possibility for me, and I refuse to even entertain it.
. . .
I sleep wrapped in Edward's hoodie, taking my human boy and the scent of him that once drove me mad into my dreams with me before I rise again four and a half hours later.
Alice left out clothes for me to wear, neatly piled on my chaise. Clothes durable enough to survive the speed I'll be traveling.
Rubbing the lingering confusion of sleep from my eyes, I pull them on and tie the laces of the shoes before grabbing my phone from the nightstand and turning to leave. That's when I catch my reflection in the mirror on the back of the bedroom door.
"Good god, I look like Daisy Duke," I mutter to myself.
I'm wearing skin-tight denim shorts that barely reach the top of my thighs, a black tank and hiking boots, and I wouldn't be at all surprised if this was Alice's intention.
"Remember, Bella, keep your shield down and your phone charged," she reminds me as my family line up in a row to send me off in the foyer of the house.
I glance down at the bright pink leather case that's keeping my almost-antiquated iPhone strapped to my arm. It's close to three am. "Promise," I say after looking back up and flashing her a rueful smile, and by her returning smirk, she knew exactly what she was doing when she planned my outfit.
I leave before I'm forced to suffer through my mother's repeated apologies—and memories of the boy I no longer recognize—and reach Washington State by sunrise where Alice assured me he's heading.
He's planning on visiting my grave, or more accurately, where an empty coffin was put in the ground at the Ocean View Cemetery in Port Angeles in honor of my human life.
Rose accompanied me as far as Great Falls Montana before turning back. She was reluctant to let me go, but Alice warned her that if Edward sensed anyone else with me, he'd flee.
He's lost trust in the family he always considered his own.
"Mine and Em's Cabin at Forks, we still own it," she said passing the brass key into my hand and planting her lips to my cheek. "Don't be gone for too long. Five years was long enough," she spoke softly against my ear before pulling back and smiling, but she was unable to conceal the pain my absence caused her.
Before I could open my mouth to speak, she was gone.
"I'll be back soon, Barbie," I replied, disregarding the panic that skipped in my heart as I watched her leave until I could no longer detect her mind.
I make my way to Seattle—traveling a lot slower this time—to hunt. In the back streets, a few blocks south of the Space Needle, I kill a middle-aged rapist who reeks of cigarettes and stale beer, and a mid-twenties drug dealer who has more than enough cocaine running through his bloodstream to immediately affect me.
After, I head, almost subconsciously, to Eclipse, the vampire nightclub on 9th Avenue beneath St. James Cathedral, where we once took Edward. It feels like only a few months has passed when he was that wide-eyed human I adored long before I ever admitted it, when in reality, it was several years ago.
It still seems so ludicrous to grasp.
"So, the rumors are true," Jerome greets me at the entrance as I tune into his mind. If Edward's ever been here, he hasn't admitted him, nor has he ever laid eyes on him as an immortal. His mind is brimming over with projected images of the last time we were here, and the human Edward in his memories is too much for me to bear.
"They're true," I reply, my voice small and flat, before making my way inside and turning in the direction of the bar.
I take a seat and order an eight ounce glass of pure A-positive to clean my body of the drug humans are so fond of, while I attempt to ignore the fray of voices all around me, both mental and audible.
She's alive! She's alive! She's alive! She's alive!
In a perfect world, my shield would automatically shut them out, but it's always been anything but perfect.
"Waves crashing to the shore. Waves crashing to the shore. Waves crashing to the shore," I whisper beneath my breath repeatedly.
It's Alice's call that proves the most effective.
"You're in Seattle—good," she states before I can utter a syllable.
"I'm in Seattle."
"Okay, he's just crossed the US border and is going to stop to feed in Bellingham. He's then going to travel close along Interstate Five to Lake Padden where he's going to head south into the forest between Lake Samish and the Larrabee State Park. There's a creek that runs off the western point of the lake. Follow it for two miles and then head west for roughly five hundred feet. You'll come to a clearing. Tomorrow at dawn, Bella. That's where he'll find you."
"Dawn?" I echo, my voice losing all volume as my heart begins to hammer from the very idea of it. In only a few hours, I'll finally come face to face with my mate.
"Yes," her voice softens and I can hear her subtle smile behind it.
"And off L-Lake Samish?" I stammer, reaching up to place my palm flat over my chest. I'm starting to feel as if I'm swaying, and I'm relieved to hear the uncertainty that plagued her the night before is now gone. I expel my breath, every last molecule of it.
"That's correct. Also, you keep slipping, Bella. Remember to keep your shield down, okay?"
"I'm rusty," I explain wryly.
"I know. I'll keep you posted if anything comes up."
"Thanks, Alice."
"See you soon."
She hangs up and it suddenly occurs to me that I could not detect anything of her mind through the phone.
It can only mean one thing; Edward's telepathy is far superior to mine.
But then he is the original source.
"Dawn, " I murmur to myself, closing my eyes as the energy coursing through me ignites those same impulses and desires I once had to suppress. "Edward..."
. . .
Restless and impatient, I leave early. I exit the bar and pass Jerome in a blur of grayscale and neon light as a buzz of anticipation spreads out from the pit of my stomach.
After borrowing a Subaru I came across in the underground parking, I immediately head north along Interstate Five, and reach the southernmost tip of Lake Samish less than half an hour later. It's only ten miles from Bellingham, and my flesh is beginning to ignite with the knowledge that Edward is so close.
He's so close his presence is almost tangible.
It's not quite half-past five in the morning and still dark out, and like any typical day in Washington, it's raining.
After abandoning the car along a graveled elbow of road, I step over the barrier and move into the dimly shadowed cover of large hemlock, fir and cedar trees toward the eastern point of the lake. The near-glowing snow-capped peak of Mount Baker is thirty miles to the east, visible through the canopy even in this pre-dawn morning devoid of moonlight, and the chilled air is so clear my lungs practically burn with each intake of breath.
It's early October, and the lake is still but for the ceaseless raindrops that ripple the surface and lap against the banks. At human speed, I make my way around it, my clothes becoming soaked, and my hair plastering to my scalp.
After locating the creek that branches off to the west, I follow it, keeping beneath the cover of trees to protect myself from the weather that's threatening a storm.
I am no more than a mile out when I feel him.
Sunrise is still an hour away; the timing of Alice's vision is slightly off. He's early and I'm not yet at the clearing.
The sound of a tree branch snapping echoes in the near distance, scaring a flock of birds into flight. I spin toward it so fast I almost trip over my own feet.
"E-Edward," I stutter, unable to raise my voice behind my bated breath.
He's near. He's so near, I can hear the faint beating of his heart and detect the trace of his scent.
Not one hundred feet before me, he drops silently to the ground. I feel the slight vibration of the earth tremor beneath my feet even as he remains obscured by the thick cluster of trees.
"Edward?" I repeat, my voice remaining only a few decibels above a whisper and immediately drowned out by the hissing rush of rain all around me.
My heart is pounding in my ears and a sense of vertigo is beginning to overtake me. It feels as if the very world is slanting and my mind is not only flooded by disorientation but déjà vu; it's exactly how I felt that first day in biology class beside him.
Catching myself, I hastily scan my surroundings, searching for the smallest break in the forest. To my left is somewhat of a clearing created by a fallen tree and no more than ten feet in diameter. Without turning my back on him, I clumsily make my way toward it, my hands behind me, the tips of my fingers running over mossy, hollow trunks and wet foliage.
Edward has yet to show himself, but he's within sight and following me closely. I know this instinctively.
I check and recheck that I'm not shielding my mind, but it's racing, my thoughts disjointed and incoherent. I shake my head, squeezing my eyes momentarily closed in a flimsy effort to pull myself together, and when I open them again, there he is.
My breath draws sharply and I freeze, unable to move or speak. He's standing bare-chested and as drenched as I am not twenty feet from me. His hair is redder than I have ever seen it and sticking to his brow as his slate black eyes fix to mine.
He hasn't fed. I can smell the lack of human blood in his veins and see the hue of his eyes even though the first rays of morning are not yet over the horizon.
But he's beautiful.
My perfectly beautiful mate; I barely recognize him, and it's not only from the flawlessness of his face. His beauty is as infinite as it is terrifying, but that's when I understand. As he stares down at me with a ferocity that immediately heightens my senses and puts me on guard, I realize not only doesn't he recognize me either, but he's hunting me.
He's the predator and I'm his prey.
"Ed—"
"Why do you have her face?" His speaks so lowly it's practically a growl, and it's not a question so much as it's an accusation.
"I am her, bucko," I reply, but my emotions betray me and the quiver to my voice is a contradiction that makes Edward immediately start and pull up short as something fractures behind that intense stare.
In reaction, I jump slightly in my skin and step awkwardly backward as the first stirrings of panic expand inside me.
I'm afraid of him and he knows it.
Again I expand my shield and attempt to unscramble my muddled thoughts to reveal my memories. With my heart echoing the growing sense of urgency, I let everything from the first day I saw him in the cafeteria at Forks High School to waking up in the Volturi crypt pass through my mind, but if he can see it he's giving away no clues.
In stark comparison, his mind is completely blank, sealed shut, and leaving nothing but a hollow vacuum of emptiness in its wake. There is the faintest knot of confusion creased into his brow, but as his dark eyes again capture mine, his glare hardens.
"Edward..." I appeal to him, dangerously close to tears even as the rain continues to beat down on me relentlessly, but how can he not recognize me?—not feel me like I feel him? "It's me."
He doesn't move to speak, and remains just as still and detached. I can't read his expression, but the fault line of pain cutting through it is making him appear very volatile.
"You're not her," he murmurs so softly I barely catch it.
Without severing his gaze from me, he takes a single step in my direction and in the next instant he's against me, his palm squeezing around my throat like a vice.
Before I'm aware of the next second, he's forced me violently to the ground, flat on my back on the forest floor, as I hear the distinct sound of my vertebrae severing. Blood fills my lungs behind my fast-healing body, as I gasp and fight futilely against him. My back arches and I thrash and claw desperately at his fingers imbedding deeply into my flesh. He's steadily crushing my airway and cutting off blood supply to my brain, and his strength is nothing like I have ever encountered before. Bar Emmett, I am one of the strongest vampires in existence, but he is easily overpowering me as if I were a mere human. His one-handed grip on me is immovable and I'm completely helpless beneath him.
"Ed—Ed..." I continue to struggle against him, but I cannot draw a breath of oxygen to speak.
"What have they done?!" he demands enraged and revealing a glimpse of his extended fangs. "WHAT HAVE THEY DONE?!"
I flinch and attempt to shake my head but am unable to, and removing my hands from around his, I slap his face and attempt to gouge his eyes. But my strength is rapidly fading, and my vision is becoming clouded behind a thin layer of red film.
"Tell me!" he seethes, his dead black eyes boring into me, before securing both my wrists easily with his free hand and anchoring them above my head.
That's when I realize he's trying to pluck the answer from my mind, but I'm moments from unconsciousness, and together with the blind panic overrunning me, my thoughts are at best unintelligible.
My message alert tone suddenly beeps; a high-pitched ping that's so incongruous to the sounds of the forest, it briefly breaks Edward's momentum. I can't see it, but he can, and as he glances toward it, his grip on my neck loosens enough for me to move my head.
My phone is lying a foot from me, face up in the wet underbrush, its message lit up across the screen.
Bella, put up your shield—NOW!
A/N: I mean this chapter had to end on a cliff, right? Right?