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 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. She chuckles.
"C'mon, before someone rushes us." Charlie stops at the door and moves to knock. It slides open to my surprise, Alex Brandon greeting us with wide eyes. "Told ya."
"Oh my God, Beau! I'll get Clarice, get in here. Emma, I told you someone got hurt!" He's gone before his 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 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 Clarice Cullen before, both in person and in dreams, but her youth continues to strike me. She's relaxed, clothing loose and body language hanging. Her blonde waves kiss her shoulders, and her lips kiss the cheek of the beautiful man beside her.
This must be Ezra. His face is older than hers, with a divine grace that only an angel could possess. His skin, dark as night, contrasts with the paleness of Clarice to a near extreme. On his clothes and face, various colors of paint. And if it's in his hair, I can't tell. The braids tight on his scalp are in every shade of the rainbow.
Clarice's face, unlike Ezra's warm grin, has become severe.
"Beaumont, this is unprecedented. What happened?" I bite my lip and look at Charlie, who has tensed visibly. Clarice looks between the two of us and shakes her head. "Ah well, we'll take care of this, and then discuss the details. Come along, young Swan. My beloved can keep Charlie under control."
Ezra giggles. His voice is light, like wind-chimes. "Of course, darling. It's good to meet you, Beau." Clarice 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. She closes the door and crosses her arms.
"I know Edythe said you were clumsy, but if Charlie brought you here, well, I could only assume the worst." Her accent grows thicker with every word. She 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 she isn't here right now ... she would be in a panic if she saw you injured."
"Yeah... she really cares about me." I chuckle, looking at the freckles growing on my hand.
"Aye, that she does. Now, let me just..." She takes the injured hand and I wince, every little touch feeling like needles under my skin. Clarice offers a sympathetic chirp, and lightens her grip. "I have bad news. It is definitely broken. 20 of the bones are damaged to a severe extent. 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?" She snorts and lets out a soft laugh, but as she starts setting my hand, her face falls into sorrow. And fear. "Is something wrong?"
"... what you and Edythe are doing concerns me. It's not that I don't trust you, or her, I just ... being close to humans is always a risk we take. A vampire and a human paring off isn't exactly common. In fact, this is the first I've ever seen. I just want to be sure you know what you're getting yourself into."
"I do. I hurt myself learning how to fight — or, well, not fight. It's weird ..." I glance around, avoiding her rather motherly stare. "My mom 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." She turns and grabs a very new bottle of pills. "A single 800 milligram ibuprofen, until I can write you a script." She 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."
"Clarice, please."
"Beau." Clarice smiles and bows her head slightly.
"And Beau you shall be."
We emerge from the office when a crash and a curse fly from the kitchen.
"Bloody Hell!" Clarice turns and flashes around the small dividing wall. I approach the wall and peak around. An argument catches my attention, and I snicker.
"Is he even French?" Roland, whose hair seems more pink than blonde in this lighting, asks Emma, a bowl of salad in his hands. He thunks it on the marble island, raking his hair from his eyes.
"His name is Beau, after all," Emma rationalizes, shrugging her shoulders. She cuts up what seems to be chicken with ease, her dreadlocks pulled back into a high ponytail. I feel a warm hand on my shoulder, Charlie's amused face just above mine. Emma looks up in time to see our eyes just staring at her. "Oh, look Roe, humans."
"Get in here, you two, before she drops another pan." Roland calls us over, fully acknowledging me for the first time since we met a few months ago. Charlie races forward first, standing beside Emma 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 bleu recipe she picked up in culinary school. I hope you're hungry." Roland 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. It would be rude if I just ... said I didn't want it. The air shifts around me, and I turn in time for Jasmine to make her debut appearance in the kitchen. She looks at me and smiles.
"Well, hello again. Have we, uh, have we had a proper introduction?" She taps her lip, thinking.
"If by that you mean I know your name, and you know mine, then yes." I say shrugging my shoulders. Jasmine shakes her 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 Malex to see if you'll keep breathing, and so far, I have lost quite a bit of dignity." He leans down and stage-whispers, "pequeño diablo makes me be his sewing dummy. Beware bets with Alex Brandon." Jasmine's head perks up, and every vampire looks toward a set of stairs. "When did Edythe get home?"
Music, lighter and more beautiful than I have ever heard, fills my ears.
Roland's smile becomes beautifully genuine, and he leans against the wall. "She's playing again."
"God, I missed that." Emma hums along with the song, Jasmine joining in with the harmony. Eventually, their small musical number turns into talking about the meal, but the music itself continues on.
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 Edythe, her upper body rocking slightly. Her eyes are closed as they dance effortlessly on the baby grand piano. And from her 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 watch her like this. I'm intruding, I'm violating her privacy. If there's even a slight chance she doesn't know I'm here... a hand lies on my shoulder right as the music shifts. Clarice leans up and whispers.
"She wrote this for you." She 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 Edythe, who is standing over me in shock, hands shaking.
"Beau ... I uh ... do you like it?" I nod, sitting up and patting the space beside me. "I shouldn't, Clarice said that Charlie needs to speak with us... about that." She points to my hand, eyes pained for me. Still, she sits, and she takes my good hand in hers. "... they like you, you know. Ezra and Alex especially. Jasmine is warming up to you, though. She's not much of a talker."
"I can tell. Do you know where in the house they are?"
She closes her eyes and nods. "Kitchen still, all of them. Your mom is helping Emma make dinner. Oh," Edythe snorts, "she 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 her hand, my lips pursing. "I know you said they like me, but ... I don't know."
"Alex adores you, but he's known of you for a while now. He saw Charlie deciding to fix up your bedroom, because you moved in, and he proudly announced the opportunity for a new friend."
"That's kinda cute." Edythe shakes her head.
"Except Alex 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 her cheeks. "As for the other three, Roland thinks you're very sweet, and Emma likens you to an Ent. Jasmine is ... anxious, but she's been on our diet for the shortest amount of time, only a few decades."
"Ezra and Clarice?" Her face lights up.
"Ezra wouldn't care if you had a third eye and webbed feet. He's happy to see me talking to someone that isn't one of us. Happy to see me so ..." She chokes on her words, and scrambles to form a sentence. She's adorable when she's flustered. "And Clarice, being the old bastard she is, threw a box of condoms at me when I mentioned the trip to Port Angeles."
I snort, wagging my brows. "Should I have made a move?" She rolls her eyes and flicks my nose. I cackle, wrapping myself gently around her.
"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. "You nerd." She stands behind me, leaning down and resting her cheek on my arm. "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," she continues, sarcasm leaking into her tone.
I ignore her teasing, only acknowledging it with a roll of my eyes. "I expected either stereotypical or completely against the grain. This house feels so eclectic and alive."
She sighs. "It's the one place we never have to hide."
The song I heard her 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 Edythe's now concerned gaze with a smile.
"Sorry, that song you wrote is still playing in my head. It's beautiful."
"Thank you..." She murmurs, embarrassed. She touches the corner of my eye, trapping one I missed, and wipes it off gently. She bounces of her heels, considering something, and then grins. "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. She takes my hand, leading me away from the cameras.
"No coffins," she 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.
"Jasmine's room... Clarice's study... Alex's room..." She points as we go past the various doors. She 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.
Edythe's gentle grip on my wrist holds me back.
"Don't ... it's older than anyone in this house. It belonged to Clarice'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. Clarice saved 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 woman who lived through them all.
"Beau? You alright?" She taps my cheek.
"How old is Clarice?" I ask quietly, ignoring her question, still staring up.
"She just celebrated his three hundred and sixty-second birthday," Edythe says. I look at her, a million questions in my eyes. She watches me carefully as she speaks. "Clarice was born in London, in the sixteen-forties. Or so she thinks. Time has erased much of her memory, and some smaller towns records. It was just before Cromwell's rule, though."
I stay composed, aware of her scrutiny as I listen. It's honestly easier if I pretend, at least for now, that Edythe is telling me a fairy tale.
"She was the only daughter of a Protestant pastor, an intolerant man. Pastor Cullen 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 Clarice begging for their forgiveness in her sleep. Pastor Cullen forced Clarice to murder even as a child. Once she took over, they happened less and less often. But then she found an actual vampire in the poorest part of the city."
She drifts to near silence, and my skin chills close to ice.
"They must have been ancient and weak with hunger. Clarice was young, just turned 23, strong and surprisingly healthy. She could have overpowered them, had she been fully aware. She says she remembers falling over a corpse, and then the pain of the vampire's fangs in her neck. And the venom in her blood." She pauses, editing. Honestly, I don't want to know what.
"She crawled away from the alley while a mob followed the fiend. Clarice's father had taught the town what to do with anyone infected — they would have burned her alive. She hid in a cellar, buried himself in rotting produce for three days. It's a miracle she was able to keep silent. She realized he had become what she feared the most."
Her entire world view flipped on its head in an instant. I can't even imagine how terrified she must have been, and not even of the people who would have wanted her dead, but... of herself.
"So, she believes she is a monster? Wholly evil?" I ask, my voice cracking.
"Not anymore." Edythe leaves it at that, squeezing my shoulder I nod, wanting only to find Clarice and hug him tight. It won't fix anything, but it's the best I can do. She boops my nose. "Let's get back to the others. Charlie has been eating her thoughts since she got here. Whatever caused this," she points to my arm, "must've been big."
"And fast ..." She squints at me and opens her mouth when —
"Edythe, Beau, first floor; now." Charlie's voice comes out of nowhere. I yelp loudly, falling against Edythe's side. She laughs, pushing me up.
"Intercom, darling. 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, Edythe with an impressive pace of leaping all the way down and waiting for me with a smirk. The temptation to slap her 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 mom pacing in front of the fireplace, and Alex chatting with Jasmine about something in his sketchbook. He catches sight of me and shoots up.
"You're okay! Good. And here Edythe had already decided to — "
"Zip it, Malex!" She snaps, leading me to where Charlie waits expectantly. "Your panicked thoughts have me on edge, Chief Swan." Edythe admits softly.
"Well, Jasmine'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 her, "things have changed. Greatly. Sit down, you're going to want to." Edythe nods stiffly and takes up the last bit of free seating — an ottoman in front of Jasmine's recliner.
" ... I already don't like this." I say, lips pursing.
"Just rip the bandage off, y'all." Emma says with her big, goofy grin. "I'm already heartbroken that Beau won't be able to taste my amazing cooking." Roland swats her arm.
"I uh ... I was attacked. By a vampire." The room grows still. Edythe's eyes lock on me, on my arm, and she looks at Clarice. Her shoulders relax. No doubt Clarice told her it wasn't a bite, or that the damage isn't so bad, but her eyes stay huge. Stay angry. Stay scared. "Ma and I were working on my powers and she just ... come from nowhere."
"It's the one that killed those two workers in Mason county, Clarice. She and her 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 her, but the bastard set her sights on Beau straight away. If she's like Alex has been saying, I don't think she'll back down."
"The hunter?" Alex asks, blinking. "I hadn't seen her come to Forks. Where were you when she attacked?"
"My grandfather's cabin, between Forks and La Push. They haven't bothered the Quileute 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." Jasmine says flatly, her hand rising to her 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 she's got her sights on Beau, then she will need his scent. But yours will keep her and the others in the forest."
"I'm not letting you use my baby as bait!" Charlie looks at Clarice, who doesn't make a move. "Clarice, talk to that girl of yours."
"Jasmine knows what she's talking about, Charlie. I agree that the situation isn't ... ideal, but we have to remember this isn't our choice to make. For now, we'll keep Beau here, with us. We have plenty of room, and our scent will block his." She sighs, rubbing her temples. "You have to remember, Charlotte, that Jas is a war veteran. Working with Pancho Villa taught her much."
Charlie turns to Edythe. "Talk some sense into them, please. I want to keep him safe."
"Mom," I pull away from her and look at the chorus of red eyes. "I want to help. I'm okay, I got away. The next kid might not be so lucky. She seems to like them ... young. Younger than me, even." My stomach churns, remembering the scent of her breath, the feel of her hands on me. "I'll do whatever it takes to stop her. Like Ma said, it isn't the first time a Swan had to put down a rogue vampire."
"Ooh, we got a badass over here." Another light swat for Emma.
"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 down at Charlie and hug her tight. "I'll call every night, and every morning. We just have to put on a show for Dad, and things will be okay. I promise."
"Beau, I don't..."
"Do you trust me?" I ask, not daring to meet her expression. She lets out a shaky breath.
"Okay ... okay. But Emma is driving."
"Team Emma!"
The drive back from my house is long and tedious. I sit in the front seat of Emma's personal vehicle — a silver Jeep, an old model, with a cassette player instead of CD — legs curled to my chest. Edythe tried to come with us, but Clarice found her something else to do at the last second — making me a bedroom.
Never did I think I would stay in a house full of vampires. But until a month ago, I didn't think they existed. Imagine what I'll know exists by the time prom hits. Or what I'll be. God, have I only been here since January?
"Penny for your thoughts, Beau?" Emma says, turning onto the off-road.
"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 Edythe has."
" ... it just ... because of me, so much is changing. My mom is thinking daily about my death, Edythe 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 mouth 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. Beau, you're family at this point. I'm pretty sure Edythe would never recover if something happened to you. I've never seen her so infatuated." She swerves and looks behind us. "A goddamned squirrel came outta nowhere..."
"Do you think... that we're stupid for this?"
"What? Dating? Nah. Well, okay yes. Yes, I do. In fact, when Edythe came home, raving under her breath about you, my first thought was to have her tear you to shreds and get it over with. But lord was I wrong." Emma chuckles, her shoulders bouncing. "That girl would be lost without you. Kinda reminds me of how Roland and I met."
"Oh? C-can I ask about that?"
"Sure you can! In case the accent didn't clue you in, I'm not from this coast. I'm from Tennessee. My folks and I lived in the woods, away from those who would see my Paw and Maw and think 'wow, they need to die'." Sadly, I don't even need to ask why. "They both died before I turned 19 – my forever age – and there was no one around when the bear came. No one but Roland."
"A bear?"
"A goddamned bear, yes'ir. At first, I thought I was seeing the ghost of my mother, but then, after some excruciating pain, my vision cleared. I was a vampire, and my eyes fell on him. I know it took a decade for us to become a couple, but I swear to you, Beaumont," she puts on her turn signal, "it was love at first sight. I ain't never regretted becoming a vampire because of him."
We pull into the driveway, Edythe and Ezra waiting for us on the porch.
"I'll take these to your room, Beau." Emma says, grabbing my backpack and suitcase.
"I can get ..." and off she goes, "...them. Thank you, Emma!" I approach the giggling man on the porch, shaking my head. "Is she always like this?"
"You get used to it," Edythe chimes in, shaking her head. "How's your arm feeling?"
"Like it was shattered by Dracula himself." Twin deadpan expressions make me glow with pride as I examine my freshly drawn bone arm on the cast. "You're welcome."
"Alright," Ezra pecks Edythe's cheek, and then mine, sending a shock of cold through my skin, "I'm off to bed. Remember, you have school tomorrow. All homework should be done by midnight, and snacks are always available in the kitchen."
"He 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." Ezra smacks the back of Edythe's cackling head before vanishing into the house. "C'mon, I'll show you to your room."