Deştepta
Pairing: E/B endgame
Rating: It's about a goddamn succubus, do you have to ask?
Setting: College AU vaguely following the Twilight storyline
All standard disclaimers apply
When Bella slumps into the gritty mud of the forest floor, her eyes drifting shut and that dangerous mouth finally, finally falling silent, alarm slams through Edward like Emmett's fist to his chest. The agonizing euphoria of experiencing orgasm for the first time in his vampire existence dies violently as panic overtakes him. This is...shit. Edward never swears, but he does so now. He rights her clothing in a blur of motion, accidentally ripping the button from her shorts in his haste, and staggers to his feet with her negligible weight in his arms. Her presence is so big and vital that he's shocked by how tiny she is when he gathers her close to his chest and holds her. Such a little package for so much trouble.
He needs to get her to Carlisle. That much is abundantly clear. There's venom in her system, and he has no idea what that means for her. He managed by the thinnest thread not to bite her but he licked and sucked at the nicks in her skin, and how much got inside her when she kissed him he can't say. All he knows is that she's now unconscious, and he's pretty sure that's not normal. At no time during his medical education did any doctor ever claim a woman should pass out like this after sexual activity. She's not a human woman and he's a monster, so he blames them both equally for his panic now. He spent over a century abstaining from sexual contact of any kind, and the moment his resolve is tested, look what happens.
She shifts in his arms, a small, satisfied moan falling from her parted lips. Edward's jaw clenches hard, his mouth setting in a firm line as her breath touches his skin, liquid sugar and burning spice. She's so hot, and he can feel her heat lingering on his skin, everywhere they touched. Hot and moist. The words of the spice merchant in Seattle taunt him. Good for a cold and dry constitution.
The man may not have been wrong. Edward is a vampire, cold and dry by nature, but everywhere she touches him he burns. They're incompatible, utterly opposite in every way—she's heat personified, tropically lush, and he's Antarctica. He's always preferred himself that way, but now, holding this fiery little body tight against his chest, he's not sure what to believe anymore.
It doesn't matter, he tells himself resolutely. And it doesn't matter how embarrassed he is, how much he really, really does not want to take her home and admit to what he's just done. He needs to get her to Carlisle.
For a moment he hates her—truly hates her. He's always prided himself on his control over his baser urges, but today she broke him. She makes him vulnerable and he does not want to feel this way. He rejects the way his heart twists when he sees her face pillowed on his shoulder, flushed with heat and life, so fucking beautiful. He's Edward Cullen, he feels this way about no one, and this isn't the sort of girl for that, besides. They're incompatible, and also strangers. He's spoken to her what, twice?
And now he has to save her life. Gritting his teeth against the fireworks he knows will come when he returns to the house, he adjusts his arms around her still body and runs.
Alice meets him at the back door, her arms folded over her narrow chest and her mouth set in an expression of severe displeasure. "I distinctly remember telling you to take your jacket with you when you left," she snaps, lobbing a towel at him. He has no extra arms to catch it and he shoves his way past her with a grimace.
"Aw, did poor Ed get caught out in the rain and have to come back for his jacket?" Emmett guffaws, but then he spies Edward angling through the doorway with Bella slumped in his arms. "Oh shit, man."
Edward has no energy or desire to deal with his brother right now. One sibling at a time is usually his limit and Alice has already taken that slot. "Where's Carlisle?"
"I called him when you made the decision to circle back for your coat. He should be pulling up any minute." Alice retrieves the towel and tucks it over Bella's curled form. "Let me take her. You're not decent."
Edward snarls at his sister, his fierce growl shocking them both. Emmett jogs close protectively with a gleam of warning in his eye. "Chill, man."
"This isn't a time for chill." The words grate from his throat, rough and unsteady. Did he snarl at Alice instinctively because she insulted him, or because she wanted to take Bella from him? He's not sure, and the implications of that have him reeling. "She could be dying. She needs Carlisle," he snaps, focusing on the most immediate danger.
"Would you stop being so dramatic?" Alice rolls her eyes. "She's not dying—she's going to be fine."
"Then why is she unconscious?" he barks back.
At the angry bite in his voice, Bella flinches. Her body contracts, but a moment later she slips groggy arms around his shoulders and stretches languidly in his grip. A low giggle escapes her lips.
Emmett's eyebrows rise and his nose lifts to deliberately whiff the air. "You fucked her." He grins broadly. "Congrats. Didn't know you had it in you."
Edward scowls viciously. "I didn't."
Rosalie rounds the corner just as Edward hears Carlisle's key in the front door. "Her scent's all over you, and I can smell your stink, too. Not even a human would believe you didn't fuck her."
Edward's low, animalistic growl rumbles out of him. Lovely. Is his entire family here to mock the mess he's made of everything? "I didn't," he insists, sticking with the Bill Clinton defense for the sake of his own sanity. He didn't have sex with her—he devoured her. She broke his willpower so far, but no further. He ejaculated unexpectedly in his clothes, not deliberately within her.
"Edward?" Carlisle calls, his footsteps swift on the polished wooden floor. "Alice said you needed me."
"Bella needs you," he corrects as his father enters the kitchen.
"No, you do." Alice tugs lightly on his sleeve. "I told you, Bella will be fine. Give her to me or put her down somewhere and go clean up. Rose is right, I can smell exactly what happened all over you."
Carlisle takes in his bickering family and the unconscious girl with admirable calm. His nostrils flare ever so slightly; he makes no comment about the scents of bodily fluids, save one. "Is she still bleeding?"
"No," Edward says tightly, grateful beyond measure for Carlisle's ability to focus on the salient point rather than the mortifying details. He shoves his way past his siblings into the living room just as Esme darts down the stairs.
"Towel!" she snaps as Edward moves to place Bella's muddy form on one of the brand-new snowy white sofas. Alice already has one in hand and lays the midnight blue fabric over the cushions. "Edward, what's going on? The last I heard Bella was coming to meet us, but I didn't expect it to happen like this." She eyes the girl's slumped body with concern.
"It wasn't supposed to," Alice says grumpily. "The storm was supposed to pass to the north, and Edward was supposed to take his jacket with him so he wouldn't have to come back while she was here." She punches his arm and glares at him below the spikes of her bangs. "I really hate when people just arbitrarily change their minds without asking me first, you know."
Esme hugs her gently with one arm. "I don't think Edward had any control over the weather, anyway."
"How was I to know she'd be wandering around the woods behind the house, that fire of hers going crazy?" Edward growls at his sister. He wants so badly to believe this isn't his fault, to blame someone else—anyone else. Bella. Alice. The storm.
"By asking me, you idiot! Telephones have been around longer than you have!"
"Enough," Carlisle says mildly. He runs a fingertip gently over the swollen knot on Bella's forehead. She moans groggily and her dark eyes flutter open.
"Oh, hi." She blinks blearily at him. "You're not Lestat."
"No." Carlisle's forehead furrows in concern. "Edward, was she conscious after she hit her head?"
"Very," Edward says flatly. Behind him, Rose and Emmett snicker. "Does everyone have to be here?" he demands.
"Jasper isn't," Alice says with perfect calm. "I told him to stay on campus for a bit. Carlisle wants to draw some blood and the timeline where Jasper was here for that wasn't a pretty one."
"I tripped," Bella says, her head rolling languidly to the side, her body moving slowly. "There was a tree." She giggles again, the sound high and sweet.
"Dude, is she drunk?" Emmett stage-whispers.
"I don't smell any alcohol." Carlisle pulls a pen light from his breast pocket and clicks it on.
"How you can smell anything over Edward's reek, I don't know," Rosalie says, pulling a face.
"I do not—" Edward begins.
"Go clean up, Edward, please." Esme cuts him off as she pulls one of Bella's soaked canvas sneakers from her foot.
"Yes, go," Rose agrees, grimacing at him.
"I caused this, and I deserve to know the consequences!" he protests.
"Once you've washed and changed." Esme gently towels the mud from Bella's legs. "She's not going anywhere for a while, not until we figure out what's wrong."
"Where'd Lestat go?" Bella asks, squinting blearily at Carlisle. "You're pretty. He's prettier. Prettier even than Rose. But she's prettier than me. Where do I fit? I think I got the order mixed up." Her eyelids threaten to close again and she laughs, a sweet little burble of sound.
"She is drunk." Emmett howls with laughter.
"She is not," Edward insists, but both Esme and Alice point him imperiously to the stairs and, frustrated beyond belief, he goes. He listens to everyone's thoughts without remorse as he hurtles to his room to wash and change clothes at vampire speed, not trusting anyone to give him an honest accounting of what might fall from Bella's mouth in this state.
"I think I do want that blood sample as you suggested, Alice," Carlisle says. "I must admit I have no idea what's going on."
"Take it anyway, because you'll want to study it, but I can give you the cliffsnotes version of what you'll find."
Edward desperately wants to know, but now that he's away from his family a big part of him also wants to leave. Just...go. Grab his jacket and run for Alaska as he originally planned. Bella's in good hands, and he can barely stand to be around her anyway. It's just his conscience keeping him here, he tells himself fiercely. He feels guilty because his venom has done something to her. Guilt is an entirely normal reaction for him, and it means nothing. She means nothing.
His reasoning doesn't stop his feet from returning downstairs once he's clean enough not to be yelled at. He ejaculated in his clothes, which was disgusting, and Bella's fluids mixed with rain still coated his face when he entered the house, which is mortifying. Any vampire with a nose would have known exactly what was all over him. But he had to get Bella to Carlisle in case there was danger, so what else was he supposed to do?
Her low, sweet giggle reaches his ears as he slinks slowly down the stairs and again he wants to run. That girl is dangerous. She wakes the monster in him more than anyone else he's ever met, and since he trusts neither her nor himself, he needs to keep away. His head knows this but his feet lead him back to the living room, where Esme and Alice now have Bella relatively clean and dressed in what look like some of Alice's summer pajamas and Carlisle is sliding a tiny butterfly needle smoothly into her arm. The tubing attached to the Vacutainer fills instantly with dark blood that looks no different from a human's, but the scent that fills the room when Carlisle pierces her vein is distinct in its clarity—honeyed spice and woodsmoke, the same taste he cannot banish from his tongue. He hardens helplessly even now at the scent of it, balling his fists at his sides.
"Talk about intense," Emmett mutters, and Edward glares at his family—minus Jasper—who have gathered near the staircase, away from the immediate temptation as Carlisle draws blood. Emmett's eyes glow flat black and hungry, Rosalie's a dark echo.
Across the large, open room, Bella's body jerks and she protests. Her bleary eyes flutter open. "Did you bite me?" she drawls accusingly, and Edward isn't sure she can tell from one moment to the next that that's not him sitting beside her. "Thought you said...you wouldn't." She swallows thickly and her eyes threaten to fall completely shut again. "Fair's fair, Lestat. You bit me. C'mere and lemme bite you back."
"Your girl's hilarious," Emmett snickers. "Forget what everyone ever told you about Tanya—keep this one. She's a riot."
Edward gives his brother a dirty look but does not dignify the taunt with a verbal response. He stalks closer to the couch where Bella rests, her legs wrapped in a thick blanket but her body moving restlessly under the cover. "What happened?" he demands of Carlisle. "Will she be all right?" Alice keeps insisting that she will, but gaps in Alice's visions caused this mess as much as he did and he's not willing to trust her word over Carlisle's.
"For the first, I could ask you the same question," his father says calmly as he detaches the Vacutainer and removes the tiny needle from her arm, covering the little pinprick wound with a square of gauze and applying pressure. Edward's nostrils flare at the scent of her blood and the thoughts of most of his family zone in on that vial, but no one breaks. At least Alice's visions seem to hold on that point.
"Lestat." Bella beams as he enters her field of vision and she reaches for him. He stops moving and does not take her hand. Touching her is too dangerous. He was overwhelmed and broke today, but he will not do so again.
"As for your second question, I drew blood just to check but I can't see any of the usual signs that a change has begun." He tapes the gauze to Bella's skin and stows the vial in his bag.
"She's a wreck," Edward protests as Alice returns to Bella's side with a fresh towel, gently wrapping it around her wet hair.
"She's drunk," Carlisle says flatly. A burst of giggles from Bella confirms this.
"Very," she agrees, her head rolling slowly to the side. "Want more. Tastes so good." Her laugh is languid and carefree and sounds almost like an orgasm as the little bubbles of mirth glide from her. "Tried molly. Tried G. This way better." She nods very seriously. "Kiss me again, Lestat."
Emmett howls helplessly with laughter and this time Rosalie breaks and joins her husband.
Edward glares at them all. "Knock it off. She wasn't drinking—can't you see how serious this is?"
"Forgive me, son. I didn't mean it literally. You're correct; there's no scent of alcohol on her."
"And I was with her for hours, until I sent her into the woods," Alice confirms. "She wasn't drinking. I keep telling you, it's not alcohol or the bump on her head. It's him." She nods at Edward.
Emmett's laughter nearly shakes the house. "That's the funniest shit I've heard all week. You—you fucked that girl right outta her mind, bro. I have to say, it took you long enough but when you finally—"
"I didn't f—" Edward can't even say it. "I didn't have sex with her!" Technically, anyway. Did he compromise his morals? Absolutely. But he didn't go quite that far.
"Sorry to bust your little fantasy bubble, but I smelled you when you walked through the door," Rosalie says.
Emmett pretends to wipe tears from his eyes. "I'm so proud. We should really throw you a party."
Edward tenses and his body falls automatically into a fighting stance, about to pounce on his brother.
"Don't," Esme orders without even glancing their way, her voice clipped and firm. "I adore this house. If you damage it you will be rebuilding it for me by hand, do you hear me? Buying me a new one won't work this time." She takes Bella's hand gently and together she and Alice prop her upright, sitting on either side of her. "Sip some water, honey," she urges, pressing a cup into her hand.
"I don't eat," Bella says, pushing the cup away as Alice gently towels her hair dry. She lays her head on the little vampire's shoulder. "Alice. You smell nice," she says dreamily, those lovely thick eyelashes blinking slowly.
Alice chuckles and pulls the towel from her hair. "So do you. You really won't sip some water for Esme?" She brushes damp tendrils out of Bella's eyes, examining her hazy dark gaze. "Wow. You're really high."
"Mm-hm," Bella agrees. "Feels so good." Her banked fire flickers in response to the mild burst of pain as Alice wipes gently at the cut on her forehead with the damp towel.
"Don't," Carlisle cautions. "It could reopen, and that would be bad, considering." He glances at the room full of vampires. "Let it be. She can tend to it herself when she goes home." He studies Bella's eyes as Alice just did. "I would be very grateful if you drank a little water. I'd like to flush whatever's doing this to you out of your system." He touches her wrist lightly, feeling for her pulse. "You're also extremely warm."
"Always hot. Never cold. Don't know what that is." She pushes the cup away again. "No, want to keep it."
"But it may not be good for you."
"She's fine," Alice says, letting Bella nuzzle close. "Trust me, Carlisle."
"Passing out in the middle of the forest is not fine!" Edward protests.
"Not for you. She's not you."
"No," Bella agrees groggily. "Just me. Always only me. You feel so nice, Alice," she babbles. "All prickly-sweet, like Rose and Lestat. Why?"
Carlisle gives Edward a glance he cannot read, and after a century that should not be possible. "I think that's the cold, Bella," the doctor says gently. "You've truly never been cold before?"
"Oooh, really?" Her eyes open wide. "But nobody likes being cold? Feels good to me."
"You'll get over it," Edward says darkly.
"She won't," Alice sing-songs.
It's at times like these that he really hates having an oracle in the family.
"Who are you?" Bella squints at Carlisle. "Did you bite me? Or did Lestat? I can't remember. 'Sokay. You can have my blood, but fair's fair."
"I'm Carlisle Cullen," the family patriarch tells her gently, "and nobody bit you. I told you before, but your mind isn't processing signals clearly right now. Nobody bit you. I'm a doctor, and I drew some blood with a needle so I can check to make sure Edward's venom didn't harm you."
"Venom? What, are you snakes now?" She cuddles close to Alice as she giggles. Alice smirks at Edward and cuddles back. His jaw clenches. That is not his girl and he has no reason or right to feel jealous to see her snuggling with his sister like schoolfriends, but he does and he can't help or explain it. "Vampire doctors...snake doctors...snakey vampires…" Her voice trails off as she loses what little train of thought she had.
"Derailed," Rose mutters, settling herself smoothly on the arm of the deep white leather chair where Emmett flung himself, apparently both prepared to watch the antics to the end.
"How come you're so pretty?" Bella babbles, admiration in her voice as she glances at Rose, whose golden hair shimmers like a halo around her head as a beam of sunlight gleams through the window behind her. "I'm the succ—the succu—" She gives up quickly on the word. "The sex demon. But you're the goddess. 'Snot fair."
Her prattle immediately catches Edward's attention. "What are you?" he demands, hopeful she may answer him in this state when she would not before. "Bella, concentrate. Tell me again what you are."
"Lestat." She beams at him. He really wishes she'd stop calling him that. The movie wasn't even good. Alice told him the book was better; he refused to read it.
"If I were the jealous type I'd be worried about the way she keeps complimenting you." Emmett licks the shell of Rosalie's ear. "As it is, it's kind of hot."
Rose looks like she doesn't know what to say to that, which...doesn't happen often.
"I'm me," Bella says simply, which is the exact answer Edward did not want.
"Okay, but what are you?" This may be more than her brain can process depending on the chaos inside it right now, which he could easily judge if he could, you know, read her mind like he does every other sentient being in existence. But of course he can't, the one time it's most important.
Whether she understands the question or not is a moot point, apparently, because she doesn't even try to answer. "Kiss me, Lestat."
"No," he says firmly as Emmett and Rosalie cackle and the rest of his family attempt to keep straight faces. "Talk to me instead," he urges, kneeling down in front of the couch, turning his head to catch that hazy dark gaze. "Help me understand." That's all he wants from her, all he's wanted from her from the start. Once he has these answers, he's positive her power over him will end. He can move on with his life; the draw to her will cease to haunt him.
"Okay," she agrees, "but, just...nobody ever just wants to talk to me." Her cheek nuzzles Alice's sharp little shoulder where it rests. "Only Alice wants that."
His sister smiles. "Only all of us, Bella. Well, except for Edward. He wants to talk to you, but he wants to fuck you, too."
"I cut my office hours short for this?" Carlisle mutters, packing up his bag.
Edward wants to die.
"He can fuck me," Bella says, her voice languid and dreamy. "Mmm...he tastes really good, Alice. But he doesn't want me. Tried to beg him." She swallows. "He wouldn't."
"You'll think differently once your head clears." Alice strokes her drying hair away from her face. "Carlisle, before you leave, look at Edward's eyes. Then tell me you rushed home for nothing."
"I won't say it wasn't amusing but I have a responsibility to my students and—" Carlisle's words cut short as he gives Edward a good look.
"What?" Edward demands, delving ruthlessly into his father's mind. He sees instantly what Carlisle sees, rejects it, and wrenches himself away to find his reflection in a mirror instead. Under the streams of sunlight breaking through the cloud cover, he catches a glimpse of color in his irises that should not be there.
There's no yellow to be found, which doesn't surprise him—when Bella's around, all he feels is the empty black hunger of the predator. He craves everything she's capable of giving him, everything he refuses to let himself take—her blood, sexual gratification, all of it. The angry black does not scare him, but the thin ring of brilliant poison-bright green circling the pupil? Yeah, that does. It's just a thread of color, a tiny lime-bright vein, but he does not like whatever this may mean.
Carlisle's reflection appears behind him in the mirror a moment later, a firm, supportive hand falling on his shoulder. "Calm down, son," he says quietly. "There may be nothing wrong."
"How can you say that?"
"Answer me very honestly—did you bite her?"
"No," Edward snaps, but he drops his head and breaks their mirrored eye contact. "But I did drink," he admits quietly. "Just a little." He lapped at the trickle of blood from the wound in her forehead, sucked the two tiny nicks his teeth left in her skin, one on her lip, one on her labia. And he feasted like a glutton between her legs, as he never—never—envisioned himself doing to anyone, ever. She was so wet, and her arousal flowed so sweetly. There was more of it than he expected from his medical education, slippery-slick, melting-sweet on his tongue. It didn't sate him as blood does, but it calmed the monster inside just the same, allowing him to lick and suck and drink her down without piercing her flesh. He glutted himself, the richness of her flavor intensifying when she came, the spice of her burning on his tongue. He barely suppresses a low growl remembering that savor.
"Mm." Carlisle does not touch him, does not request that he lift his eyes for inspection again. "A little may have been enough. I wouldn't worry too much just yet. Our eyes change depending on our diet, and she is neither human nor animal. It makes a certain amount of sense that you might react differently."
It might make sense, but that doesn't mean Edward has to like it. Or ever do it again. He wheels, approaching her once more. He's going to Alaska in another moment, but first he needs answers.
"Don't push her, Edward," Esme says, tucking the blanket around Bella's shoulders as she cuddles annoyingly with Alice, still riding whatever high he inadvertently gave her. "She's not in her right mind right now."
No, she isn't, and that's what he's counting on. She likes playing coy, playing games, and he does not tolerate that. "Bella," he says, kneeling before her.
She huffs. "You gonna kiss me again?"
"No."
"Then go 'way. I feel good. Don't harsh it."
He grimaces. She doesn't feel good, she's artificially high and he's to blame. "Bella, I'm sorry. I did this to you."
"Yeah," she agrees. "It's great."
"It's not," he insists. "Listen to me, Bella. We need to know what you are so we can maybe fix this, and keep it from happening again." This is somewhat of a lie: he's already vowed never to put so much as a fingertip on this girl again, so there's no risk of a second occurrence. But he still needs to know.
"Nothing to fix," she says happily, snuggling into Alice who pets her hair and snuggles back.
"If you want answers, you'd better offer her something she wants in return," Alice says smugly. "Otherwise you're not getting anything from her, high or sober."
"That's how this works, Eddie," Emmett agrees from across the room. Rose smirks and tosses her legs over his lap. "And knowing your girl, I can guess exactly what she wants."
Bella giggles, and Edward hisses as her banked fire flickers in response to Emmett's innuendo. Every time that fire shifts it feels so intense, the heat like velvet rolling along his skin though he's not even touching her. "He's a really smart giant," Bella approves.
"You should really keep this one, Ed," Emmett urges again. "No one's ever called me smart before."
"Quiet," Rose hisses. "I'm watching this."
"They're not a rom-com, babe."
"No, they're a fucking soap opera, which is even better. Shut up."
Edward hates them all. Not his parents, but the rest of them, and he's leaving just as soon as he gets some answers. "Bella."
"You like me," she sing-songs, lifting her foot to poke his chest with her bare toes. She's wearing bright red nail polish and the ball of her little foot shoves him harder than he expects, harder than any human girl could. He reels back slightly on his heels.
Alice and Esme dressed her in a clean tank top and tiny boyshorts that he does not want to imagine his sister wearing or even owning. That's underwear, not something to be seen in around the house. As her foot moves he glimpses the cotton between her legs, the material dark with the wetness he can smell lingering in the air.
"I don't know you," he corrects, struggling to remain calm. She's pushing his buttons again, both irritating and arousing. He tries to tell himself she's so high she doesn't know what she's doing, but it's difficult to believe. She pushes the same buttons sober, too.
"But you like me anyway." She giggles again and moves her head from Alice's shoulder, tipping it back to rest against the cushion behind her. "You want answers? I got answers. Some. Make it worth my while."
"What do you want?" Edward knows this is a mistake the moment the words leave his mouth. He's just begging for trouble with this girl.
"To suck you dry," she says immediately, baring her little human-looking teeth at him before dissolving into laughter. "Shouldn't say that. Your mom's right here. Sorry, mom."
Esme's low, amused chuckle is somehow even worse than Bella's drunken giggles. "I live with Emmett and Rosalie. Nothing you say can shock me, dear."
"They do look like they could be fun," Bella agrees. She rubs her face with her hands and Edward hopes that means she's slowly beginning to come down.
"We're lots of fun," Emmett agrees. Edward begs to differ. Listening to them carrying on at all hours is not his idea of fun, though it might be Bella's. Unless, of course, she gets upset that she's not invited to join.
"Pick something else," he urges her. He needs the answers to these questions, especially now that his indiscretions in the woods have had consequences for them both. "What are you, Bella? A succubus?" This is what he suspects she was trying to say earlier but couldn't get the word out. It was his suspicion from the beginning, but he needs confirmation. Also some detail about what that actually means, because he and his family are proof that legends have no bearing on truth.
"Mm-hm," she agrees readily, apparently forgetting she wanted to trade for this information. Her toes tease his abs before he jerks roughly out of reach. "I think so."
"What do you mean you think so? How would you not know?"
She scowls at him. "You're messing with my high, Lestat."
"I'm the one who gave it to you," he argues, which is kind of a low blow since he didn't mean to do it and would have prevented it if he could.
She huffs a breath of air upward, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. "I don't know anything for sure, okay?" she says, irritation beginning to lace her tone. That and her more complete sentences tell him she is, indeed, beginning to come back to herself. "My earliest memory was waking up in a stinking ditch near a Dust Bowl refugee camp." She digs her fingers into her eyes, rubbing as if they burn. "I looked just like this—I've never aged. I was never a child; I was always just me."
"You don't remember anything before that?" Esme's brow furrows with concern and she places a hand on Bella's shoulder. Edward's stomach sinks as he watches. Not Esme, too. Not with this girl. This is the last person Esme needs to adopt. Bella is perfectly capable of taking care of herself.
"Now you know why we're destined to be best friends," Alice tells him smugly, squeezing Bella's hand.
No, actually, he doesn't. Just because they're both clueless about their origins doesn't mean they have to be friends. Plenty of humans have gaps in their histories and they don't bond about it. They just go on with their lives.
"You've never met anyone else with your...peculiarities?" Carlisle asks delicately.
"No." She yawns and her head shifts restlessly against the back of the couch. "I'm tired; I'm sorry. When I eat too much I crash. It shouldn't have been too much. But it was."
"Like a human after Thanksgiving dinner." Alice chuckles. "It's all right. You just stay right here with us, Bella. Edward is going to run, like I told you, but I'm here. Esme's here."
Bella cracks a warm dark eye open. "You told me he'd be back when I needed him. You were right." A low burble of laughter leaves her.
Alice grimaces. "I didn't actually mean today. He changed his mind and took me by surprise. I can see the future, but I didn't foresee what happened today. I'm sorry. I would have given you a choice if I had. Of all the options I saw once the storm came and he circled back toward home, sending you out into the rain to meet him was the best."
"I love you for it, Alice," Bella says sleepily, the whole part about Alice seeing the future apparently not registering. "He's the best," she mumbles, her verbal filter still out of order. "Moody sonofabitch, but he tastes so good." She moans deep in her throat, a sound of feral wanting that wakes his cock and makes him wince. "Is that really what cold feels like? Want to suck him like a popsicle."
On their chair, Emmett and Rosalie choke with laughter.
"I love you, too, Bella," Alice says calmly. "Just sleep now. You'll feel more like yourself when you wake up."
"Sleepover," Bella agrees. "Pretty sure I'm doing it wrong, but whatever."
"We can do it right next time," Alice promises. "Makeovers, games, karaoke, gossip, whatever you want. We'll even make Rosalie join us and pretend to have fun."
"With this one around I might actually have fun," Rose says dryly.
"You're on." Bella rolls herself into the throw blanket, tucking her body into a smaller ball than Edward would have imagined possible. He watches as her body relaxes into sleep, incredibly envious of this ability. He hasn't slept in over a century and he never will again, not for eternity.
His mouth sets in a very displeased line as he glances up at Carlisle. "So that's it. She doesn't know anything." He's still incredibly irritated with her, but as his eyes rake over her body balled up on the couch, her head pillowed in Alice's lap, he's shocked by the hit of warmth he feels.
"She knows she's a succubus."
"She's just guessing!" Edward protests, rising to his feet.
"I knew nothing when I awoke to this life, but I understood what I was," Alice says quietly.
"The thirst makes that pretty clear," Edward says, dark sarcasm dripping from his tone. "She's different."
"She knows her diet as well as we know ours, and she's had a long time to learn the quirks of her existence," Carlisle says calmly. "The label we choose to define ourselves is no less arbitrary than the one she's chosen."
"We have a community," Edward argues. "You told me what I was when I awoke. You learned from others, including the Volturi. We have a system. She has none of that."
"She's all alone, Carlisle." Esme's big golden-yellow eyes find her husband and Edward knows exactly what she's thinking even without delving into her mind.
"No," he says, swiftly attempting to nip that thought in the bud. "I know what you're thinking, and no. This is not a stray puppy in need of a home. She has one already—with the wolves, remember?" His family may not remember this, but he sure does. She belongs to Sam and they do not need to incite a supernatural turf war over one little girl. Especially a girl Edward cannot stand.
"Sam doesn't own her," Rosalie snaps. "Christ, you're as bad as he is. She's not some chew toy for the two of you to fight over. Let her make her own decisions."
"You don't even like her!" Edward roars. Bella flinches but does not wake, dead to the world as she sleeps off whatever he inadvertently did to her today. "Or are you forgetting how just yesterday you wanted to move?"
Rosalie surges to her feet, Emmett just a heartbeat behind her. The cold fire in her eyes could reduce almost anyone to ashes but Edward has known her since she was a newborn and he refuses to back down. "I'm a vampire. More than that, I'm a woman. I don't forget anything." Her yellow eyes glitter dangerously at him. "I still think she may be dangerous to our family, and I still want nothing to do with the wolves. I didn't want to move here in the first place, if you recall. I didn't think it was a good idea before Bella, and I still don't. But that doesn't change the fact that she doesn't deserve to be caught in the middle of a tug-of-war."
Edward's eyes narrow. "She got to you, too, with that story." He never would have believed it, not from Rose. But he reads it clearly in her mind.
"She didn't get to me." Rosalie scowls at him. "I happen to think she's amusing because she pisses you the fuck off."
"Also because she thinks Rose's hot," Emmett mutters, trying to keep a straight face.
"That's enough," Carlisle says gently. "Edward, Rosalie is correct. Bella's choice of companions is hers to make. You cannot forbid your sisters and mother from seeing her simply because of her connection with the pack."
That isn't his main objection, but Carlisle already knows this so Edward doesn't bother saying it yet again.
"And Rosalie, Edward is also correct. We're technically guests of the board of trustees and antagonizing Sam in that circumstance is not wise."
"What do you want to do, then?" She folds her arms over her chest and sets her weight deep into one hip, regarding her father figure with all the attitude she's cultivated in her long years on this earth. "I told you ages ago that moving here was not a good idea, but no one listened to me. No one in this family fucking listens."
"We listen, babe," Emmett says, touching her gently, which Edward would not dare to do in this moment. He took Esme very seriously when she said she didn't want this house wrecked. "You were just outvoted this time."
"Because you are all a flock of idiots," she grumbles, shoving him away. "She's funny, okay? But she's also potentially dangerous, and I haven't forgotten that. How long is she even going to sleep? Won't Sam expect her back at some point?"
"That's actually a fair point," Esme says, exchanging a worried glance with Carlisle.
"Calm down. Her phone is in her backpack, which is by the door. I'll text Sam for her if she doesn't wake up in a few hours." Alice strokes the long strands of silky hair in her lap as Bella sleeps.
Edward scowls furiously. He doesn't like anything about this situation at all. The girl who breaks his control in a way no one ever has before sleeps sweetly on the sofa between Esme and Alice, looking far too innocent for what she is. His mother and sister seem ready to adopt her and Carlisle isn't stopping them. Emmett doesn't see the problem with any of this, Jasper's being kept away from his own home because there's a bloodbag sleeping on his wife's lap, and the only one making any sense at all is Rosalie. He doesn't like agreeing with Rose about anything, but at least she seems to admit the situation is volatile, which the rest of his family does not.
"Don't do this," he says, staring steadily at Carlisle. He loves Alice, but he's afraid she's a lost cause. She believes with all her heart in whatever she's seen, whatever has made her open her arms to Bella. Edward does not. He knows a single changed decision can alter the future for everyone. "Carlisle. She's dangerous."
"Forgive me, son. You know I love you, and what's more, I respect you. But I have to ask. Is it truly the girl you're afraid of, or yourself?" He tips his head slightly to the side, considering Edward. "Changes are coming. I may not be Alice, but I've been around long enough to know that much. I would be stupid to ignore the signs. You've never dealt well with change, especially change you do not willingly choose. I'm asking you now to please try to accept this one, whatever it is. Not for Bella's sake, but for your own."
No. Edward refuses. Alice is often right, but not always. Today proves it—she didn't foresee his return to the house, the change in the storm, and what happened because of it. She never predicted his lapse of control. To him, that means he still has some measure of power over the situation. His actions, his decisions, can shape the outcome no matter what she says. Bella is dangerous. She's dangerous because of her connection with the wolves, and because even she doesn't really know what she is. Most of all she's dangerous because she gets under his skin like no one else, peeling away his command over himself and his world. Carlisle has no right to ask him to accept that, to embrace it. Resolute, he turns from his family and exits the house. The rain has nearly stopped, only a misty drizzle lingering where the storm once raged. He still lacks a jacket, but he'll be fine. He doesn't enjoy being wet but the cold doesn't bother him any more than it bothers Bella.
The door opens behind him as he prepares to step out into the wet.
"Hey." Emmett extends a hand, a black North Face rain shell in his grasp.
Edward takes it silently.
"Look, I'm not the heart-to-heart guy. I know that. Rosie and I are the last people you ever want to talk to. I never made much effort to change that because you always seemed weirdly happy being miserable, you know? I figured, why bother you when you were doing your thing?" He shrugs awkwardly, his broad shoulders hitching toward his ears. "But around Bella you're...different. I don't know. I'm not Jasper or anything. But you talk more. You watch her. And yeah, I get that she irritates you, but I don't think that's all it is."
Edward jerks the thin waterproof coat over his arms. "If she is what she says she is, she was created to attract attention, Emmett. That's her purpose."
"So do we, but you don't see any of us losing any sleep over it. Figuratively speaking, of course." He grins. "Go talk to Tanya and Eleazar. Hide in Alaska for a while, if it makes you feel better. Eat a grizzly for me. But...just think about it, yeah? She likes you, and she's good with weird, which any girl into you would have to be. Maybe you don't have to be as alone as you always thought."
Edward scowls at his brother before stepping away from the house. Emmett means well, but he knows nothing if he thinks Edward is ever going near that girl again.
I'm judo_lin on twitter and I follow back fandom people as long as you're nice. :)