Edythe and I pass the familiar first two floors quickly, chatting absently about our cover story for tomorrow in class, her remarking on the anatomy of my cast drawing. I spot Clarice's cross from down the hall, slowly stopping a few feet away. My mind knows her age, and about her. But I still can't get over it. Get over how much she must have seen. I don't realize I stopped in front of Clarice's office until Edythe taps my shoulder.
"Hey, let's get to your room before it gets too late." She looks to the door for a moment, brows furrowed. She whispers under her breath and glances up at me.
"It's open," Clarice's voice calls. Edythe opens the door to a high-ceilinged room, with a tall, stained-glass window illuminated by fairy lights and a rather antique looking lamp on the desk. The dark wood panels give a warm feeling, though 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. Most them look original, and they're all in mint condition.
Clarice sits behind an enormous mahogany desk in a leather chair, placing a bookmark in a massive tome. Though Clarice appears far too young to even be a teacher, I cannot ignore the air of authority. It's like I'm in the presence of a Harvard professor.
"I heard you two gossiping about me earlier," she says pleasantly, rising from her seat. "You realize it is rude to talk behind someone's back." The curl of her lip makes my heart calm slowly, and Edythe chuckles.
"I was just showing Beau some of our history," Edythe says, rubbing the back of her neck. "Well … your history."
"We didn't mean to disturb you," I apologize, looking down.
"Not at all." Clarice waves her hand, a soft but sad smile on her face. "Though Edythe got some of the details wrong. I'd be happy to correct. Where shall I start?"
"The vampire," Edythe says, placing one hand lightly on my shoulder. I look over at her and notice one wall out of place. I turn to the doorway and gasp. There are no shelves, 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 woman with blonde hair. Clarice.
Edythe 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," Clarice says a few feet behind us. I flinch; I hadn't heard her approach. Edythe squeezes my hand. "Azrael, the vampire who changed me, hid an entire coven within abandoned buildings." She runs her 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 Clarice, her age visible in the depths of her dark eyes. "When you came to terms with … what you became?"
She glances away from the paintings, away from Edythe and I, her 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 very weak, but I found it only a few things can kill us. Fire, or by something harder than our skin." As if to prove a point, Clarice takes her letter opener and jams it into her hand. The metal doesn't shatter, but folds on itself, and when she pulls it back, it is utterly useless. Clarice, all the while, smiles.
I open my mouth to ask, but she raises her 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." Clarice shakes her head and brushes a stray lock of hair from her face. "The sooner we get rid of them, the better. Have a good night, you two."
"Best of luck, Clarice." Edythe 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 Edythe's fingers and lace them. "What are you thinking?"
"I want to hear the rest of it. Please." She nods and gestures to the paintings.
"Her entire life is documented here. After decades of hiding from humans, of trying to kill himself, of a fear of burning in Hell for murder before her soul was — in her mind — condemned, she just kept on walking. Kept on hiding. And then her willpower snapped, right as an unfortunate herd of deer fell into her sight." She lays her hand over a small landscape, the shadows on the ground showing the shape of unseen shapes — deer? "And so, she started the philosophy we all follow. She fed on animals, and became a doctor to repay the world for what she had stolen for so long."
Edythe sighs, leaning against the wall. Her face is somber, his eyes downcast. I squeeze her 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." She gives half a smile, but her eyes stay serious. "I won't stop you when it happens. As much as I want to be with, I'll completely understand if you don't want to be with me..." She trails off, staring at my face. Waiting.
"I'm not running anywhere," I stay, crossing my arms. Carefully.
"We'll see..."
I nudge her. "So go on. What happened next?" She looks down at me, and I can see the reflection of my face in her eyes. Wide eyes, and an excited grin. Like a child waiting for grandmother to tell them a story.
She bites her 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 women depicted are angelic.
"I can't describe the struggle of working with human blood, but after two centuries of forced will, she could. Two centuries, and not a drop touched her lips while she fought bloodlust. And now, she can barely smell it. But she wasn't the only vampire in medicine. She found a similar soul with similar ideals."
Edythe 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 woman at the far right.
"The Volturi greatly inspired Solimena, and they invited him into their world. He, in return, treated them like gods," Edythe sneers, terrifying anger flashing through her eyes. " Sulpicia, Athenodora, and Marcus Volturi," she says, pointing to two women with inky hair and a young man. "Nighttime patrons of the arts, of medicine, women's rights when it suits them, and veritable vampire royalty."
"Are they siblings?"
"No. Marcus is the eldest, and part of the old Volturi regime. He, with his brother-in-law Aro and their ally, Caius, ruled for centuries. Sulpicia was Aro's mate, and Athenodora was Caius'. But Marcus also had a mate; Aro's little sister, Didyme." Edythe crosses her arms, her face taking a somber expression. "But Aro had her executed for reason's I don't really know. Clarice came too late to learn anything other than his fate. When Marcus learned what happened, he and the two wives decided enough was enough. And so they burned both Aro and Caius alive."
"What happened to them?" I wonder aloud, my fingertip hovering a centimeter from the figures on the canvas.
"They're still there." She says an edge to her voice. "Residing in Volterra, Italy. She stayed with them for a few decades, thinking they would become family. But they tried to make her kill humans. While they are not as abusive toward the human race as their predecessors, they still don't regard them as equals. Clarice was also a little off-put by their desire to have an iron grasp on all vampires. Even so, we still follow some of their laws. Prevent a total slaughter of Forks that way."
"Fucking hell... so, what, would we be killed if they knew?"
"Probably. The Volturi are fearful of humans with magic, though I can't really figure out why. They'd kill to have Alex or me in their ranks. But if a human has a power, or a Gift, they panic." Edythe pauses at a photograph – old, faded, still Clarice. "Anyway, she came to America not long after that, began traveling and practicing medicine." When Edythe turns back to me, a gentle angel's smile lights her expression. "And so, we've come full circle," she concludes.
"Have you always stayed with Clarice, then?" I ask softly, my body trembling. She hesitates, hugging herself and shaking her head.
"Almost always. I mentioned a rebellious phase, didn't I?" She leads us from the office, doors closing quietly behind us.
"You did, yes." She swallows hard, not at all wanting to answer. "You don't have to..."
"Yes, I do. Ten years after I was changed... born … whatever you want to call it, we had a falling out. I wasn't exactly sold on her life of abstinence, and I resented her for curbing my appetite. For creating me at all, really. 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 backseat 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." She barks out a laugh and flicks my nose.
"Since this second life began," she 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 Clarice. She 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." Her eyes hit the floor, and she takes in a shaking breath. "I didn't recognize myself. I saw the monster Clarice feared as a child. No matter the reasons, I felt cruel. I was indiscriminate. I should have been more selective... I was horrible. And yet, they both welcomed me with open arms, crying and hugging me for a solid day. It was more than I deserved."
Edythe stops at the end of the hallway, a white door with the words "Beau's Room" written in green on the front. Around my name are flowers, a couple guitars, and a lamb. My brow raises and I squint.
"Alex?"
"Ezra." She 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, blank canvases of various size and color cover the wall, ready to be marked. An easel welcomes me. 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 Edythe 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, Edythe."
A second voice joins Edythe's in laughing, and I sit up, pushing hair out of my face. Alex is standing beside her, shaking his head. He's in massive t-shirt and sweatpants, looking almost nothing like the fashionista he is everywhere else.
"I'm glad you're settling in," he says, looking almost microscopic next to Edythe. "I got some clothes for you, I hope that's okay. Edythe helped, since we've got different tastes." He 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!" Alex bounces in his seat, fingers drumming on his legs.
"Alex, this is amazing! Thank you," I lean over and hug him, and he hugs me back, making my spine crack a bit.
"Ah! Sorry, sorry." His 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 Jasmine and I tomorrow — we're going to go over the plan in the morning." Alex ruffles my hair and heads to the door, hopping and giving Edythe a quick kiss on the cheek.
"Lively little pixie, isn't he?" Edythe 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 Roland and Emma." She shivers in disgust. "Hard to get those thoughts out of my nightmares."
"So I take it a late-night rendezvous is a no-go."
"Pfft! Well, especially not with your arm completely shattered. Maybe when your life isn't in danger." Edythe winks. "Goodnight, love."
"Sweet dreams, Edythe." I turn off the lights and roll myself up in the comforter, hoping that everything will be easy, be quick, and that my mom will be safe from the vampire we're after.
Almost as if acting on script, Jesse approaches me at the school with a wide, confused look in his eyes. I smile and wave, going off to the side with him so the other cars can pull in.
"Were you at Edythe Cullen's last night?"
"Yeah, at my mom's insistence. She's leaving town for a few days, and she knows the Cullens will look after me. We talk to each other before bed, she keeps me updated. It's pretty chill."
"Leaving town? But what about the animal attacks? Shouldn't he be leading the search?" Jesse'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.
"She'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. "She said something about establishing a kill pattern to figure out what the animal is. My money is on a pissed off bear."
"And she's okay with you staying with your girlfriend? My parents would freak if I stayed at a..." He pauses, glancing down, "at a girl's house."
"We're in separate rooms, and there are five other people living there. Nothing's happening."
From the distance, Emma cackles like mad, Edythe having to wack her shoulder with a book to calm her down. Thankfully, Jesse didn't notice, his lips pursed together. This has to be his thinking face, he makes it so often during tests.
"Anyway, how did the dance go? Was Taylor a lady?" The change in subject makes his face brighten.
"It was amazing! We got voted King and Queen. You should have seen Michelle's face when we got on stage, she was so mad." We laugh, my mental image likely not the exact expression. Though I'm also imagining her 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 Edythe and Jasmine, nodding and winking in my direction. Okay, he believed me. One step down. I'm not looking forward to part two.
Her 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, Edythe and I try to focus on our assignments — though I'm sure that hers are for show, the page seems filled out from my angle. We're settled on a worn-in couch, her on her 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 Economics 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, Edythe." The music changes to classical and my head shoots up. "Hey, Linkin Park! Nice. How the hell is your music organized?"
"First, by year, then genre, then preference." She holds up three fingers. "It's completely randomized on my phone, but the walls of CDs and vinyl are pretty much everything I have on it." She lowers her work and rolls her 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 she 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've lost three copies of Smoke on the Water sheet paper within a week." A pencil prods at my cheek. "Hey, don't attack the impaired." I hold up my braced arm, and she sticks her tongue out.
"Don't mock your elders." I close my books and flop onto my side, cheek landing on Edythe's stomach. "I am not your pillow."
"My head hurts and your body is like an ice pack." I face the ceiling, counting the tapestries she has strewn around it. "Besides, if we're really going forward with Jasmine'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 Edythe's constant poking of my forehead. I cover my face with hair and grumble at her.
The door opens, and Ezra's twinkling laugh hits my ears. "Edythe, did you tire out the poor boy?"
"He did this to himself, cross my heart, Ezra." Her cold fingers run through my hair. No doubt she has her crooked smile on full display. A larger hand fluffs the hair at my forehead. I hear a sigh.
"Clarice is going to be home in an hour, she's taken the others hunting before we go to the field. Do you want me to watch him 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 comfortable as I am." There's a heavy silence. I hear cloth shift, and Ezra's voice is a little closer.
"Are you sure you're comfortable with this, sweetie?"
"I don't have a choice...I trust his judgement, I'm just..."
"Scared of losing him?" Silence. "Edie, that's love."
"But we haven't known each other for long... it took you and Clarice years to fall in love."
"You two are not us. There are things in this world that we don't understand, including this. Maybe you two were destined. Maybe you knew each other in another life."
"Ezra, you know I don't believe that sort of thing..."
"Always good to have your options set up."
"I suppose you're right. You have a good hunt, okay?"
"I will. You just...mind yourself." I hear a kiss and he walks from the room. "Tell him to call Charlie before we leave."
"No problem, Ezra. See you in an hour." The door closes, and after a couple minutes of nothing, Edythe flicks my head. "It's rude to fake sleep when someone visits." I reach up and cover her mouth, shushing her. Her 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 smacking your shoulder." Edythe chuckles smugly, 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. Van Helsing. Come in, Van Helsing."
"This is Abraham Van Helsing, how are things out in Dracula's castle?" I can hear the food in her 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. Jasmine and Emma 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, Jas said we're going to go forward with it on Friday. According to Alex, the blonde dude is still debating killing me, which is … eehhh." I hear something snap and see that Edythe has bitten a metal pen in half. I have a feeling this represents her 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 guys wearing my jackets to the coven playing hot-potato with me in the forest."
"The Fantastic Flying Boy."
"Yeah, really. Not a fan of that one," I glance at Edythe who is avoiding my eyes by checking my homework, her 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 Emma with a pigskin two seconds before Edythe and Clarice knock her on her 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 frizz on the side of my head. I glance up, not seeing a thing thanks to sightlines. But I have a feeling I know who it is.
"It is what it is. Do I like it? Ha! No. But if Clarice and Jasmine 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 ma's sake."
"For your sake, and mine. 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 patrol officer 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, Mom. Bye." She hangs up first, and I drop the phone beside me. Though slightly fuzzed, I manage to spot Edythe a couple feet in front of me, with her phone out. Snickering like mad. I reach up, meeting a tiny, chilly hand. "Alex?"
"Yep! I heard what your mom said. What does she mean by blocking?" He leans over, his fake glasses falling on my lap. "Is it like the mind thing you do to Edythe?"
"Well, yeah. I can make my shield a physical tool. She thinks it'll help with keeping the vampire off me."
"That's a good idea!" He squeaks, rising and clapping just out of my line of sight. "Edythe, can I help him with that? Can I please?"
"Well, Malex, that isn't up to me. That's Mr. Swan's choice." I pick his glasses up and wipe the blurring sleep out of my eyes. Alex slides down, sitting beside me with his bottom lip out. "Aww, he's begging."
"I am not!" He picks up a throw pillow and fulfills his teasing nickname, hitting Edythe with enough force to make her fall back on her bed. She bounces and settles, feet somehow still on the floor.
"It is very dusty up there."
I reach over and pat Alex's hand. "Hey, if you wanna help, then can you get a few things and find somewhere where we won't break a window?" I hand him his fake glasses and he nods vigorously.
"Oh, I know the perfect place," he bounces, clapping his hands. "Jasmine uses the basement to practice combat techniques every evening. And since she'll be okay with us borrowing it," he says while texting, "I'll go down right now. What will we need?"
"Projectiles." I see Edythe shoot up from her bed, face blank.
"I need to get Ezra's camera," and off she goes.
The self-described combat room is pretty well what I assumed it would be. Steel walls, dented heavily, with sealed cracks Pollocked around. Pushed out of the way are semi-destroyed models of animals and people, none of them showing the animalistic instinct I expect from a vampire.
Alex is standing at the far end, bouncing on his toes and singing to himself. At his hip are two sacks I can only pray have no rocks in them. Jasmine is sitting on a set of bleachers with Edythe and Emma, who look extremely entertained. Emma, who arrived just moments ago with Jasmine, is giddy as a schoolgirl, eyes darting from me to Alex like it's a death match. And maybe it is? I don't know just 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 ahh's, and a clap echoes through the room. Well, it's at least visible to vampires.
"Go, Beau!" Emma calls out.
"Okay, please don't try to knock me out, Alex," I say in a normal tone, knowing he can hear me just fine. "Aim toward me, don't use all your strength. Oh, this is more nerve-wracking than with my mom."
"You can do this. Head's up, Beau." The first projectile comes hurdling at me, a simple baseball that looks 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!" He nods and sends something shiny 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.
Didn't I ask for shit that wouldn't break?!
Someone shouts to Alex, but I block them out, eyeballing his bag and reaching for it. The bag rises, 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. Edythe's hand envelopes mine, her fingers checking me over for cuts of any kind. I look at her, feeling the stupid grin on my face.
"Did you see that?" I grab her shirt, shaking her. "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..."
"Babe, fuck those guys. They're not a problem anymore," I look at Emma and Jasmine, who are flanking Edythe. "I moved the bag! With my head!"
"You sure he's human?" Emma asks Edythe, her brows furrowed.
"He doesn't smell like anything else, Emma," Jasmine cuts in, her face hard set. "But he doesn't act like one, that's for damn sure." She pats my shoulder and smiles, her eyes wrinkling like an old woman. "Well done, Beau. 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 women exchange a look, and I take a step back. "Hey, wait no, I was joking!"