A/N: Hope everyone enjoyed their Mother's Day! This chapter—along with the next few—carries a difficult subject matter warning. It's going to get more intense before it gets better.
Many thanks and some private moments in a bathtub with Edward to Jen (mycrookedsmile), Nico (nicoconsd), Mary (edward620), Jennifer (chartwilightmom), and Keye (Keyecullen) for the f-awesome reviews and pimping on the Perv Pack's Smut Shack blog this week! I blushed to the roots of my hair after reading all the things they had to say about RK. If you'd like to read the review, a link is on my profile.
Mucho thanks to my lovely prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for their awesome suggestions and feedback. I'm addicted to my awesome betas, wmr1601 and Katmom, who wield those sparkly reds with finesse. Mwah!
Chapter 18
~Thorns of Crimson~
On every thorn, delightful wisdom grows,
In every rill a sweet instruction flows.
~Edward Young
As evening falls, Isabella is cradled in my arms on our bed. The TV is still on in the living room, offering background noise. I don't mind silence—though nothing is ever truly silent to vampire ears—but she seems comforted by the drone.
Sue spent the afternoon, leaving just before dinner. Isabella's cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright, and she can't seem to stop gushing about her mother. It almost makes me forget the predicament we're in, and I choose not to discuss the choice we need to make rather soon tonight.
"It's weird . . . I have a half brother and sister. I wonder how Seth and Leah are going to feel about this."
"I'm sure it'll be fine. Give them a little time." I kiss her forehead, and she snuggles closer with her hand on my chest.
"Thank you for giving me time with my mother. God, it feels weird to call her that, but at the same time, it feels right."
"It's clear to me that you're related. You have her mannerisms and some similar features. She unconsciously bites her lip, too." I smile into her hair.
"Really? Wow. Wonder why I never noticed."
"You weren't looking for that, and if you did see it, I doubt you would have wondered if she was your mother."
"True." Isabella laughs softly. "Sue said she would be honored to take Hannah into her home for as long as we need her to. Hannah will be safe among family when Alice and Jasper bring her back."
"That's wonderful. You realize Hannah may need to live there semi-permanently, right?"
"Why?" Her fingers tighten on my shirt, twisting the material.
"When Carlisle figures out the cure, I'll need to change you immediately. Once you're changed, it may be quite some time before you can be around humans without . . . wanting their blood."
"You think I'd drink from my own child? Are you kidding me?" She lifts her head, and the ire is evident in her eyes.
"Isabella, you will want to drink from anyone and everyone until you gain control of your thirst. I don't say this to hurt you, but keep in mind you'll no longer be human. There will be a new set of urges driving you."
"No matter what I become, I will always be Hannah's mother first. I won't be tempted to drink from her." There's a flat determination in her eyes.
"Regardless of what you believe, understand that I won't allow you near her unrestrained. Not until we're certain."
"That's a deal." She nods, but her gaze is challenging. "You're wrong, though. I would never harm a hair on my daughter's head."
"And I'll be more than happy to eat my words when the time comes."
The music that precedes a Breaking News report interrupts the movie playing on the TV. I sit us up, and although they haven't said what the report is yet, I just know it's about Isabella.
"There's a news report on. I think it's about you. Do you want to hear or would you rather not?"
"I want to."
We go to the couch, and she sits beside me with her head on my shoulder.
"I'm Sasha Stone with breaking news in the case of Isabella Swan-Hunter. Last month, Senator James Hunter's wife allegedly tried to gun him down in cold blood when she suspected him of cheating on her with Mara Sivalis, the senator's press secretary. Swan-Hunter jumped bail and has been on the run ever since. Until tonight, when the search for the fugitive from justice ended in tragedy. The remains of Isabella Swan-Hunter were found in a remote cabin in Colorado that burned to the ground. Dental records were used for identification. Preliminary reports from the Fire Marshall indicate the fire was accidental. No arson is suspected.
"Senator Hunter was contacted and gave us a brief statement to read in lieu of holding a press conference at this time. 'The news about my wife has come as a shock to us all. On behalf of myself and my family, we humbly ask everyone to respect our privacy during this tragic time.'
"A private service will take place in an undisclosed location. Attendance is by invitation only. I'm Sasha Stone. We now return you to normal broadcasting."
I remain silent, allowing Isabella the benefit of reacting however she needs to. She doesn't need me growling, snarling, and cursing over her cunning husband. Somehow I know he'll spin all of this in his own favor. He may even end up in The White House because of it—that is if he lives long enough. Wherever he is, whatever he does, and however much protection he has, it will never be enough to keep me from exacting justice against him.
"Oh, boy. Well, it's done then. I'm officially dead." Her voice is eerily calm.
I wait for her breakdown, but it never comes. After a time of silence, she sighs lightly and asks if I mind terribly if we watch Seinfeld. I'm more than happy to put on the quirky comedy if it will lighten her heavy heart. It's even starting to grow on me a little bit. Very little, but then again, I'm from a different era.
An hour later, Rosalie shows up, her thoughts full of sympathy for Isabella.
"My sister, Rose, is here."
"Oh. I'll be okay while you go talk."
"She's not here for me. Is it all right if she comes in?"
"Of course! Come in, Rosalie."
Rosalie saunters in, wearing a form fitting short sleeved tee, skin tight black jeans, and cobalt four inch spike heels. Only she would chase bad guys in peep-toe Jimmy Choos. I rise to greet her, and she grabs me in a hug and thumps me hard on the back.
"I'm sorry, Edward," she whispers. Slowly, she approaches the couch and Isabella. "May I?"
Isabella nods, and Rose sits beside her, taking Isabella's hand tentatively. When there's no sign of rejection, Rose pulls her into a hug. Isabella leans willingly into her arms and returns the gesture.
"I'm so sorry, Isabella. You've been saddled with more things than any one woman should ever have to bear. I just want you to know I'm here for you if you need me. Our whole family is."
"Thank you, Rosalie. That means a lot to me."
Edward, can you give us a little girl time?
I raise my eyebrows in surprise but excuse myself and head outside. I stroll toward the main house to offer them some privacy. I'm confounded by Rose's reaction to Isabella, but who am I to get in the way of any support offered? The cool stillness of the night and lack of wildlife creates a cocoon of calm I only wish I could lose myself in. If Isabella dies, I'll never have a moment of peace again.
Carlisle greets me on the front porch. "Good evening, Edward."
"Father."
"I'm glad you're here. Have you and Isabella discussed—"
"No, not yet. I couldn't bring myself to ruin today for her—you know, with her mom stopping by and all."
"Ah, yes. I'm so glad she has some family, even if they are our enemies. Perhaps this can help bridge the divide."
I snort. "Well, Billy and Sue seem reasonable. Jacob Black, on the other hand, is campaigning to have his face rearranged by yours truly."
"Oh?"
I explain what happened earlier today on the beach, and Carlisle claps me on the shoulder, shaking his head. "Edward, I get the impression Jacob feels protective over Isabella because he's known her since they were kids. And you can't forget that he's a young shifter who's still adjusting. Remember your newborn days?"
"Touché." A smile tugs at my lips. "But I'll still break his face if he doesn't back off."
"How's Isabella?"
"She's in better spirits today—and believe it or not, Rose is at the cottage with her right now, offering support."
"Yes, Rose seems to have a soft spot for your lovely mate." Carlisle grins.
We sit on the steps and look out at the night. I can hear Esme inside, her long nails tapping away at the computer keyboard. Despite the riches my family has amassed over the years, she still "works" at interior designing. She uses aliases, changing names every so often, but her reward is in the satisfaction of the work rather than the notoriety.
In the distance, I hear crickets chirping. In a way, I still miss that. As a child, I would go into the woods and lie still until the crickets around me began to sing. Now I can only hear them because of my vampiric hearing; I'll never lie in the dewy grass with my eyes closed and hear the forest come to life around me again.
"You know, we never fully discussed your immunity to Isabella's blood." Carlisle's voice draws me out of my thoughts.
"No. Do you think it's because she fed me Hannah's blood? Or do you think I developed a tolerance?"
"I'm guessing it's Hannah's blood. The question is whether that will wane over time. I'd like to do a test and see. Perhaps tomorrow you can bring her up to the house so I can draw a sample. I'd like to put her blood and your venom in a Petri dish and see what happens."
"Okay. And the cure? How's the research going?"
Carlisle sighs and hangs his head. "Edward, I'm so close. So close. I just don't know what's missing. I'm not giving up, though. I'll figure this out."
"I know you will, Father. Where's Emmett?"
"He's still tailing Demetri."
"You mean Rose came back alone just to support Isabella?"
"That's right." His smile is more than a little proud, and I'm more than a little surprised. Rose rarely leaves Emmett's side, and she certainly never allows a great distance between them.
"The news report was released tonight, by the way. Isabella is officially dead."
"Ah. Well, at least one obstacle is removed."
"Alice and Jasper are keeping track of the Donovans and Hannah, Emmett has Demetri, and Demetri is keeping an eye on Hunter. The cowardly senator released a prewritten statement to the press. He thinks nobody knows where he is."
"Edward, do you have any idea how James Hunter came to have the same blood anomaly as Isabella? Since we're now aware it's due to her Quileute lineage, I'm wondering about his situation."
"According to my research, he's the son of two blue blooded Americans and comes from old money. His mother is deceased, and his father is in a high priced nursing home with Alzheimer's. Very convenient. On the other hand, I have a feeling he's not aware of what makes his blood different."
"I agree. If he did know, he'd be experimenting on Quileutes in addition to vampires. I'm going to go on the assumption he has the Quileute gene as well."
"I wonder how many humans with this anomaly are out there."
"That brings up the question of whether it only takes a Quileute and someone of another nationality procreating to create a child with the anomaly or if there's some other variable as well. I suspect we'll never know the answer to that. I am concerned about the Volturi getting wind of this. They'll require that everyone who is a threat to vampires be destroyed."
"Yes. Even if Demetri allowed Aro to touch him—which he doesn't, by the way—as far as he knows, we tested James Hunter's blood. He has no idea that Isabella has any involvement other than being my mate."
"Let's keep it that way—and hope the Volturi don't get involved. Somehow, anytime they get into the middle of a situation, innocents get hurt."
"I agree. I should get back to her."
Carlisle touches my arm. "Your eyes are lighter. Did you hunt again?"
"Yes."
"Has it grown easier?" There's a gleam of hopefulness in his eyes that irritates me.
"No. I really don't want to get into this with you. I've agreed to feed your way only because I need to be close to Isabella. Once we're away from here, my intention is to return to feeding on human blood."
Carlisle grimaces. He still doesn't understand how repugnant animal blood is to me—both the taste and the knowledge that I'm killing the most innocent of beings. I wonder if he'll ever accept my choice or if the divide that stretches between us can ever really be bridged unless I give in and do it his way.
"Edward . . ."
"No." I stand up and pace back and forth in front of the steps, running my hand over the back of my neck. "You don't get to judge me. You can't possibly fathom what it's like for me— beside the substandard sustenance, I have to see the dying thoughts of the animals when I feed on them! You'd be hard pressed to find a human more innocent than an animal."
"I didn't realize you could read them . . ."
"You never asked, never gave me a chance. You just judged me." I glare at him, the bitterness evident in my voice.
"No, not judgment, Edward." Why didn't you talk to me about it? Maybe we could have worked something out so you could block their thoughts, or—
"Carlisle! Do you hear yourself? I don't want to block their thoughts. I don't want to kill them at all. The most innocent of humans is still far viler than an animal. I agree we shouldn't kill indiscriminately, but surely ridding the world of the scum of the earth is preferable. I'm also capable of feeding without killing if necessary."
"You were feeding off women like a parasite. Don't you aspire to be better than what we are?"
I turn on him with a short laugh. "After the speech I just made, you latch onto that? We're vampires! You've had three hundred years to get the fuck over it!" Growing agitated, I grab him by his shirt and slam him up against the wall of the house. "And where in this holier-than-thou act of yours does creating more monsters have its place? Who the fuck asked you to turn me into an undead creature?"
Your mother did.
"She didn't know what you were! She thought you were a doctor. Surely you see that you lay blame on everyone around you? You alone chose to turn me, to turn Rose. Yes, we were dying, but you played God."
And what of you, Edward? You aren't going to "play God" with Isabella?
Turning us around, I leap from the porch, landing with Carlisle pinned beneath me. Bits of gravel fly up and plink against the windows of the house and off the side of Carlisle's car. I hear Esme gasp when she realizes what's happening. Oh, dear.
"She's my mate." I growl deep in my throat. "I've never turned any of the women I slept with. I've never turned anyone. If Isabella wasn't meant for me, do you really think I would curse her with what we are? She needs me just as much as I need her."
Esme is out the front door and beside us in seconds. "Edward, stop this." Her tone is admonishing, and I glare up at her.
"Are you seriously going to defend him?"
"This isn't about defending—it's about respect. Whether or not you agree with Carlisle, he's the head of this coven and has graciously allowed you and Isabella to stay here while he searches for a cure so you can change her. Now take your hands off my mate and act civilized."
Esme is probably the only one in the world who can make me feel ashamed at this point in my existence. I immediately climb off Carlisle and offer my hand to help him up.
"I'm sorry," I murmur, stumbling back. Even though I feel justified in my feelings, a part of me wanted to hurt Carlisle. A part of me still resents him for turning me into this. I'm pissed that he can't bring himself to see my side, but the things Esme said are also true. "I have to get back. I'm sorry."
I turn and flee before either of them can answer. More than ever, I need the comfort I can only find in Isabella.
When I enter the cottage, I hear the slow, steady beats of Isabella's heart while she's in slumber. I make my way into the bedroom where Rose is sitting on the edge of the bed watching over Isabella.
"Hi. Is she okay?"
"She's fine, Edward. Are you?"
"Yes."
"Liar."
"I'll be all right."
"Do you want to talk?"
"Fuck, no. That would just be weird." I smirk at her.
"You have a point, but there's been a lot of weird lately." Rose stands up, allowing me to take her place beside Isabella.
As soon as my hands touch her warmth, I calm significantly. She is the reason I exist, the reason I had to become immortal. We were born in different times but were meant to be together. I feel no guilt about changing her because she's already dying.
"I'm going back to the house. Let me know if you need anything . . . or want to talk."
"Thank you, Rose. Thanks for everything."
A few hours later, Alice calls to let me know the Donovans heard the news about Isabella's "death" and are talking about running. We decide it's too dangerous to allow them to take Hannah on the lam, so Alice and Jasper will step in once their plans are finalized.
I pace in front of the cottage, clasping my hands against the back of my neck. I feel a mixture of anger and guilt when it comes to Carlisle. Yes, he's done a lot for me, but I can't help but feel rejected by him. He refuses to see my side of things and seems particularly disgusted by the way I've fed off women in the past. I'm not sure where this distaste stems from, but whatever it is seems to be deterring him from hearing my side. Perhaps someday we'll get to the heart of the matter, maybe even heal our relationship, but for now we need to focus on more immediate issues.
The sky is beginning to lighten, welcoming the coming dawn, when I hear the first shriek.
"No, no, no! Edward!" Isabella's heart is pounding, and she sounds wide awake. "Please . . ."
My legs can't bring me to her fast enough, but I'm halted just inside the bedroom door by the strong scent of blood. Copious amounts of blood, soaking her nightgown and the sheets.
~*RK*~
A/N: Yeah, I know. *cries* What do you guys think about Edward vs. Carlisle? Some hot under the collar moments there. Thoughts on Sue? Rosalie?
Just to clarify, because there have been questions, this is not a canon story in any way, shape, or form. There will be no Jake-imprints-on-Bella's-baby moment or any other variety of moments from the saga. I rarely tie myself down to canon anything in my stories—with the possible exception of Broken Windows—so please keep this in mind and read the story with fresh eyes and an open mind. *wink*
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