Chapter Five

Blood

In the end, Edward couldn't keep away. He came by before Emmett returned, undoubtedly wanting to see Lena morph into the same beast he saw out in the field, just so he would have an excuse for killing her.

Or trying to kill her, anyway.

While she was certain it was impossible, the look in his eyes was undoubtedly vicious.

She glared back at him, and hoped she matched him.

He brought his wife with him, but not the girl. Lena would have preferred her company, though she cried too much.

Bella Cullen was short, brunette, and pale. Probably passed as pretty, though she was starting to suspect all monsters like her did. But something wasn't quite right about her eyes, something about her gaze irritated her. It was unsteady, she thought, in a way that the others' weren't.

Afraid, as if she believed Lena to be the cruelest monster on earth.

The thought pleased her inexplicably.

She was aware of Edward's eyes on her. He moved closer to his wife, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Protective, like a real husband, just as he had been protective like a real father to the girl - his daughter, she was told.

The ache in her throat returned as she thought of her. Of her pulse thrumming away in her neck, of the warm paper-thin skin she longed to tear into, of the blood pulsing through her veins. She could taste it, almost, on the tip of her tongue. Tangy, bitter with terror. Her skin would give so easily beneath her teeth, and her windpipe so quickly to her grip.

Her mouth watered.

A low growl echoed across the kitchen. Lazily, she looked over to Edward, whose dark eyes were set on her face. The muscle in his jaw fluttered. Odd. It was as if he knew exactly what had been on her mind…

Maybe he could see it on her face.

"Edward," Carlisle warned, still sitting beside her at the kitchen counter.

He dragged his gaze away from her, and turned to Carlisle. "This is a terrible idea."

"Alice disagrees."

"Alice has limits," he said.

A sigh. The simple action confused Lena. It was unnecessary. Carlisle was dead, didn't need oxygen, and he lacked the complex emotional processes now to feel the frustration needed to justify the short exhale.

He was so human.

An ancient ghost within her stirred at the thought. She might have been fooled, if it weren't for the silence filling the room - the absence of heartbeats, or of breaths.

Lena pressed her hand against her throat and swallowed. The pain remained, intensified even. How much longer could she sit here and wait for a meal she wasn't sure was coming? A meal she wasn't sure was worth the wait?

It would be so easy to leave. So easy to find someone now, in the dead of night - Edward's daughter, for instance, tucked up in her bed somewhere not too far away…

"Look at her," Edward said. "She's a monster."

He said the word as if he were not one himself.

"She's a newborn," Jasper said.

"Then you should be perfectly aware of just how dangerous this entire situation is."

"Edward," Carlisle said, but this time his voice was heavier.

A thickness hung in the air, a demand for respect Lena had never witnessed her mother exercise. Was this what they called discipline? She sensed it in the tone, the pitch. All of it a threat, all of it controlled masterfully, so well that the entire room stilled, quietened, as if it weren't already occupied by the deceased.

The feeling didn't last, dissipating in a matter of seconds.

"You know what she is," Edward said, "and she is far more than a newborn. She tried to hunt her own kind! Surely even you can see that this is a risk we can't accept."

Carlisle drew a breath, needed in his current state only to speak. "She has tortured herself. Have some empathy."

"She nearly-"

"She's starving. She hasn't fed in weeks. You almost did the same-"

"That is nothing like this."

A cool chill spread over Lena, as if a light mist settled over her skin. The feeling was refreshing, and yet she shivered. Strange. She glanced at the others, curious if they experienced the same thing, but already they were looking away from each other, at nothing in particular, sitting silently.

A few moments passed, in which nobody spoke. Then, Edward stood a little straighter, and looked Lena directly in the eye.

"Emmett's coming," he said. "Two minutes. Can you wait that long?"

"Edward."

He didn't respond to Carlisle.

In exactly two minutes, the door by the kitchen opened, and a man - Emmett - came in. It was the first time she saw him in real life, and she was shocked by his sheer size. He was tall, and broad, and Lena wondered briefly if he was some sort of professional sportsperson. Of course, the boys in her village back home were toned after hours of heavy labour, but nothing like this.

He blew a lock of curly dark hair from his eyes as he moved to stand in front of her on the other side of the counter. A large deer was slumped over his shoulder, and he dropped it onto the work surface in front of her with a toothy grin.

"Still warm for ya," he said. "Eat up."

Lena looked at the animal in disgust. She sniffed the air hesitantly, hoping for something similar to the spicy warmth she craved, but was heavily disappointed. The animal smelt wretched, though not yet of rot and decomposition.

"Go on," Emmett said. "It's not so bad. Tastes like chicken."

From the way he was grinning, she supposed he had told a joke. From the way nobody else laughed, she supposed it wasn't very funny.

She looked over to Carlisle, who was watching her closely. He smiled.

This was a test.

Suddenly, she was very aware of her current situation. She was in a stranger's house, with five other vampires, and while she was strong and fast, that did not mean she could not be overpowered. Renesmee's hallucination had proved that - provided it were true. But how many would it take to bring her down? Was five enough?

She decided she didn't want to find out today.

She turned back to the deer, and bit into its jugular. Its skin gave way to her teeth, just as easily as a human's. The taste was terrible, as if she were drinking mud. It didn't quite satisfy the burning pain in her throat, but it muted it, made it more bearable. She wondered if the Cullens lived with this constant aching all the time, and if they thought it was worth it.

With the back of her hand, she wiped her mouth clean of blood. Sat, unmoving for a moment, as she tried to make sense of it all. She felt ill, like she had eaten something she wasn't meant to.

Emmett handed her a wet rag. "You got a little something." He gestured to his own mouth.

Lena scrubbed at her lips, ignoring the weight of Carlisle's hand on her shoulder.

"It gets easier," he tried to assure her.

She didn't believe him at all.

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