A/N: Thanks ever so much to all who read, rec, review, and lurk this story! RK was up on the TLS fic of the week poll and was in the top five—that's thanks to all my awesome readers. Love you all hard.
I also love my prereaders hard: Keye, Sandy, and Aleea. And huge thanks to my awesome betas, wmr1601 and Katmom, for wielding their Sparkly Reds and cleaning up my little messes. ;-)
Chapter 8
~Hope~
What seems to us as bitter trials are often blessings in disguise ~ Oscar Wilde
Isabella sleeps soundly. Only once during the night does she call out for Hannah—a mother's plaintive cry of anguish. It tears into me, despite the fact that I have no understanding of what it might be like to have or care for a child. I care for this child more than I can express—she belongs to my mate, and her blood saved my life.
I want to do damage to the man that precipitated the nightmare in Isabella's life. I want to slowly break each and every bone in his body, listening to his screams as his bladder and bowels let go. I want to kill James Hunter, first pinching his spinal cord together, paralyzing him. I picture his smarmy face twisting in agony, and I want to tell him before we begin that he's being punished for Isabella and Hannah. I want him to know what sealed his fate.
The molding around the bedroom window crumbles beneath my fingers, my teeth grinding together hard enough to pulverize stone.
Isabella whimpers in her sleep. "Edward . . ." Her heart rate spikes sharply, her body twisting and turning in the sheets. The sharp odor of fear mixes with sweat, creating an unpleasant tang to her scent that disturbs me at a deep level.
Turning away from the window, I wipe my hand on my pants and kneel beside the bed. Isabella is dwarfed by the king-size bed, piles of cream percale and down seeming to swallow her whole. Her lifeless brown hair lies across the pillowcase in thick ropes, but I can tell it would be absolutely stunning if she was in good health.
I stroke her forehead with the tips of my fingers. "Shh . . . Isabella. Everything will be okay."
A slight smile graces her lips, and the lines on her forehead smooth out. My proximity seems to calm her most of the time, and I understand this because I can't bear to be far from her any longer. Idly, I wonder if her whimpers are a result of dreams or if she picked up on my anger and distress over James Hunter and what he's done.
Thankfully, the sun rises on the other side of the cottage, but I draw the blinds closed anyway, knowing she needs rest more than anything else right now.
There are several pre-filled syringes of the concoction Carlisle designed to replace the Neupogen in the refrigerator. Isabella is due for another injection mid-morning, and I'm hoping she'll agree to try the new drug. The medicine is a deep shade of plum with pale gold tendrils suspended in the viscous liquid, and I realize it's going to hurt far more than the Neupogen going in.
Just as I consider waking her, she sits up, stretching her arms. I perch on the side of the bed, taking her hands in mine, and place a kiss on her palm. I graze my nose over the inside of each wrist in turn, delighting in her scent but in no way attracted to her blood, and I wonder if she smells 'off' to all vampires.
"Good morning, Isabella. How do you feel?"
"I'm . . . okay." She looks me over cautiously. "Have you met with your family?"
"With Alice and Carlisle, yes. Things are tense, as they will be, but I don't want you to worry over anything. I've informed them Jasper is to stay away from you. Family or not, I won't allow him to harm you—or even make you uncomfortable."
She nods, and I can almost hear the wheels turning before she speaks. "But why? You've known them for decades and me only a few weeks. I'm dying, and they . . . they will be around for eternity."
"You are my mate, Isabella. That puts you above all others, including myself. I will do anything for you. Anything." I grasp her hands in mine and remain silent until she looks up and acknowledges the truth. "I have something else to discuss with you. Carlisle has come up with a Neupogen substitute, and he feels it will boost your blood more effectively. I have some in the fridge, but I must warn you that I know nothing about it, and it will hurt a great deal more to administer due to the consistency."
"Do you trust Carlisle? Do you think his formulation will help me?"
"Yes. Despite any differences I have with my father, I trust his medical decisions implicitly."
"Then I'll try it."
In the blink of an eye, I'm back at her bedside with a syringe. I swipe her arm with an alcohol pad, asking her if she's ready. She nods, and I insert the needle into her upper arm as gently as I can. Pushing the drug slow and steady, I try not to falter when she winces and tears prick at her eyes. I knew this was going to hurt her, and an answering ache throbs in my chest. Once again, I'm shocked by how connected we really are.
"Are you hungry? Can I bring you something?" I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, simply an excuse to touch her again.
"Actually, I'd like to get up for a while. Is there a comfortable place?"
Smiling to myself, I know just the spot to lift her spirits. I scoop her off the bed, ignoring her grumbles, and walk through the rooms until we reach the sun-porch. It's an enclosed room made of glass, with white wicker furnishings and floral-printed padded cushions. There are many plants around the room, lending it the feel of a garden. The warmth of the sun can be felt through the panes of glass, and I set her down on the loveseat where she'll receive the most benefit.
"Oh . . . this is lovely, Edward." Her smile is full and genuine, and her brown eyes sparkle in a way I haven't experienced before.
"Get comfortable, and I'll bring you something to eat." Before I go, I offer her a blanket, which she spreads over her legs.
"Thank you." She snags my sleeve, smiling up at me for a moment, and I feel my heart break just a little more.
Once she's eaten, I sit beside her holding her hand. There's a pleasant tingling in the center of my chest, and I'm pretty sure it's directly related to my ever growing connection to Isabella. The sun is higher in the sky, but its warm healing rays continue to penetrate the domed glass.
"Do you have some questions for me? I completely monopolized the trip here asking about your past."
"Yes. I'd love to know everything about you, but there are certain things in the forefront of my mind." She blushes, looking down at our joined hands.
"Ask me anything at all. I won't hide from you." I raise our hands, pressing a kiss to the back of hers.
"All right . . . why did you leave your family? Most of them seem to really love and miss you."
"Start with the easy ones, why don't you?" I laugh shortly, gazing out the windows to take in the grayish sky. "Well, the short answer is because I started drinking human blood. After a great deal of conflict, Carlisle decided I had to toe the line or get out. I got out."
Isabella turns my palm over, tracing the lines with her warm fingertip. "So you stopped drinking human blood for a while and drank . . . from animals?"
"Yes." My one-word answer contains a great deal of disgust. "I tried to live their way. I tried to subsist on that fetid slop, but in the end, I couldn't do it. Please understand, I never kill indiscriminately. Many I didn't kill at all."
"You can feed and not kill?"
"Yes. It's tricky for many vampires, but I have excellent control."
"James once said humans aren't supposed to know about the existence of vampires, so how do you feed and leave them alive? Don't they realize what you are?"
"Women tend to find me attractive, so I've exploited that somewhat. I've allowed women to seduce me, and I drank from them . . . during sex." I swallow hard. Although I'm not ashamed of what I've done to feed, it's more difficult than I expected to admit it to Isabella. The thought of touching another woman that way now is repugnant to me.
"I see," she answers, and I can't tell by her expression what she feels about my admission.
"I would never do that again—not now that I'm mated. Before, I had no reason not to."
"Edward, you don't have to apologize to me for your past. I know you won't do that anymore."
I cock my head to the side, gazing at her with consternation. "And how would you know that?"
"I feel it here." She presses a hand to her chest and then places it on mine. "You belong to me, and I belong to you."
"You're absolutely right." I can't help but smile at her. She's so accepting of me, which is something I've experienced only rarely over the past century.
"And how will you feed now?"
"My other source of food is the dregs of society—those who would attack, rob, rape, or murder innocents. Nobody misses them when they're gone, and it makes the world a better place."
She raises a hand to caress my face. "It must be hard, though. You have to deal with the ugliness of their thoughts."
Surely she isn't sympathizing with me? I tip her chin up until our eyes meet. "Isabella, aren't you disgusted by my admissions?"
"No. Why should I be? After all, you're being quite generous by eating the riffraff instead of the commoners. I mean, you are a vampire, after all. Vampires drink human blood; it's just part of evolution. Humans think they're at the top of the food chain, but apparently, they're wrong." She shrugs, a faraway look in her eyes. "And maybe humans like me and James, who have the blood anomaly, help keep the playing field somewhat even."
"You're incredible—you know that?"
She shrugs. "Just realistic. So you were given an ultimatum by Carlisle, and you chose to leave?"
"Yes."
"I don't blame you. I think I would've done the same. What about Jasper? His bitterness toward you seems excessive."
"Ah, Jasper. Well, his control is nowhere near as good as mine. He's always been pissed off that I had an easy time of it and he hasn't. He killed many innocents back in the day, and he carries immeasurable guilt around with him all the time. He started drinking animal blood because his mate—my sister, Alice—does. His desire to join the Cullen Clan is what led him to fight to abstain from human blood, but it's a constant battle for him.
"He resents me for rebelling against the credo of our coven, for having the control to drink without killing, and for going off on my own and breaking Alice's heart. We've also clashed over his empathic ability. I prefer not to have my emotions manipulated, and he tried to use his gift to rein me in when I decided to leave."
"How did you break Alice's heart?"
"We were extremely close. I think more so because of the nature of our gifts. I've often been able to see the visions Alice has, and she's sometimes predicted things that were happening in my life. She knew before any of us that I would be leaving the family."
"I'm sorry, Edward." Her hand tightens on mine, and I squeeze back gently.
"There's nothing for you to be sorry for."
"How old were you when you were changed?"
"Seventeen, but I can pass for much older. Are you afraid you'll look like a cougar with me?" I chuckle, smirking at her slyly.
"No! Of course not!" Isabella giggles, and it's the single most wonderful sound I've ever heard throughout my existence.
Later on, while we're watching the Seinfeld DVDs that mysteriously appeared by the front door, Carlisle stops over to check on Isabella.
I'm alone, Son. His thoughts accompany the soft knock at the front door.
Isabella, who's been quite relaxed, curled against me under a blanket, stiffens at the sound. I pull her in closer, wrapping my arm around her. "It's okay. It's just my father come to check on you. Is it all right if Carlisle comes in for a few minutes?"
She looks carefully into my eyes, and appears to be satisfied with what she sees. "Y-yes."
Her heart rate rises, and the scent of adrenaline assaults me. It angers me that my mate has to feel such anxiety—especially at the hands of my own family. Thank you, Jasper.
"Come in, Carlisle." I haven't bothered to lock the doors; any vampire could disintegrate a doorknob with the flick of a wrist, and no human would make it this far without my family being alerted. I see no reason to insult her intelligence with false security measures.
Carlisle enters slowly, taking a seat on the armchair that sits perpendicular to the couch.
"Hello, Isabella. I'm Carlisle Cullen," he says softly. He smiles but refrains from touching her.
"Hi. It's nice to meet you." She turns her face his way, and Carlisle and I can both hear her heart beating hard. "Thank you for the new drug. It's so kind of you to try and come up with something to help me." Cheeks flushing, she looks down and picks at threads on the blanket that rests on her lap.
"You're very welcome. You're Edward's mate, which makes you part of our family, too."
"Yes, Edward said the same thing to me. Whatever the reason, I'm very grateful. I've been . . . growing weaker."
Hearing the words twists like a knife inside me. It isn't as if I didn't know, but somehow, the words hanging in the air are much more potent. The now-familiar pain flares in my chest at the thought of losing her.
"I'm sorry to hear that, but let's see what we can do about it. Any negative side effects from the shot Edward gave you this morning?"
"No. It hurt like hell going in, but I have no bone pain, and I actually feel a little bit better. I'm not sure if I'm imaging that part, though." She smiles sheepishly, looking between us.
"It's entirely possible that you will begin to feel better almost immediately."
Edward, have you told her about my research into her extra chromosome?
I shake my head then touch her cheek to draw her attention.
"Isabella, you know how I explained Alice is psychic? Well, she had visions of you as far back as three years ago." I pause for a moment when she gasps before continuing. "She didn't know how you fit into our family, but she knew you needed help. Carlisle has been working on a cure and believes he's very close."
"Really?" Her eyes sparkle with hope.
"Yes, I'm very close. I will need a fresh blood sample to finish testing. The sample Alice was able to procure is from two years ago, and I've run out. Your blood is also changing due to the leukemia."
"How did she get the sample?"
"Blood bank. You were having a transfusion, so Alice took the tube from the type and cross-match."
"Oh, I remember that! They lost the tube of blood and had to draw it again. Everyone was going crazy because they couldn't understand where it went." She looks at me in wonder, clearly amazed with the whole situation. "And did Alice know I was Edward's mate?"
"No, she had no idea. Alice didn't see that until Edward found you and was incapacitated by ingesting your blood. When you felt a pull toward him and decided to save him, then she knew for sure."
"Does she know if I'm going to . . . die soon?" Isabella asks so softly only a vampire would hear.
I growl low in my throat and pull her into my arms. "You're going to be just fine."
We just don't know yet, Edward.
My eyes blaze into Carlisle's, and if he knows what's good for him, he won't dash Isabella's hopes in any way.
Carlisle nods imperceptibly before speaking. "Alice's gift doesn't work quite that way, I'm afraid. She sees likely outcomes based on decisions that are made, so the future is continually morphing."
"That must be hard for her," she speaks against my shirt, where I cradle her head against the pain in my chest.
A few minutes later, Carlisle draws a few tubes of blood from Isabella and packs them away in his medical bag.
"I need to speak with my father for a few minutes. Will you be okay here? Is there anything you need?"
"I'll be fine." She smiles up at me, and I'm overcome with a love so overwhelming it nearly drops me to my knees. Grabbing my hand, she whispers, "I feel it, too, Edward." A few tears escape her beautiful brown eyes, but it's clear they aren't borne of sadness this time.
I lean in to kiss her and stroke my fingers through her hair. "I'll be right outside if you need me," I whisper against her lips.
Carlisle and I walk around to the back of the cottage where long shadows indicate the coming night. It appears he's better able to block his thoughts from me these days. There was a time I could read every errant thought he had, even extremely embarrassing ones, but now he's fairly silent unless he's directing something my way.
"I can't hear you much," I comment.
"It's disturbing to be so open to another." That's all the explanation he offers, and I decide not to push.
Frankly, I often find it a burden to be inside the heads of others, although it serves its purpose at times, especially in my line of work. As I turn to face him, he's grinning.
"What?"
"You. And her. You two are so . . . perfect together. You care so deeply for her, Edward. It does my heart good to see."
"I never expected to feel this way about anyone. I never really believed until it happened."
"That's how it is with mates. It's an inexplicable thing of beauty."
"Father, something has been bothering me. Sometimes I feel pain . . ." I rub a hand over my chest ". . . in here, related to Isabella. If I think about her being harmed or dying, it hurts. And she can sense my pain. Is that a normal occurrence with mates?"
Carlisle raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. "No, it's not. Mates have a strong connection, and one will often sense it if the other perishes, but I've never heard of anyone experiencing what you're describing—not to that degree."
"If I get too far from her, I also feel pain. We stopped at a diner on the way here, and I went inside to get food. I was only in there for ten minutes, but by the time I got out to the car, I was desperate to touch her." I gaze up at the stars that now peek through the cloud cover. My next question fills me with trepidation, but the compulsion to voice it is too strong to ignore. "If she dies . . . what will happen to me? Even the thought of it causes immeasurable pain inside me. I don't believe I could survive it."
Carlisle lays a hand on my shoulder. "I don't honestly know, Son. Based on what you're describing to me and what I know about mated pairs . . . it would likely be far worse for you. Some vampires that lose their mates go on to have other relationships, although they could never measure up to their mate. Some go insane, becoming feral and going on rampages, and others . . ." he drifts off, but I catch his thought. Find a way to join their mate.
"For the first time in this existence I feel accepted for what I am. Isabella doesn't question our connection because she feels it, too. She doesn't care that I drink human blood or what I've done in my past."
"So you've been honest with her about everything?"
"Yes. She knows why I left the family, about Jasper's issues with me . . . how I fed up until I met her. All of it."
"I can't say I agree with your choices, Edward, but I'm glad you've been honest with Isabella."
"Do you believe you can save her?"
Yes.
I close my eyes, a feeling of gratefulness welling up inside me.
~*RK*~
A/N: You guys are a curious (and expressive!) bunch. I wish I could answer all your questions. I do love reading your theories, musings, and even the emotional outbursts. To those who are waiting for Edward to change his blood drinking philosophy... don't hold your breath. And Jasper is a total douche in this story.
For readers of Broken Windows, there will be an update this week. I have two chapters written, and I'm working on a third. They will all be posted approximately a week apart.
Thank you all for reading. See you next Tuesday!
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