"What are we hunting?"
"Elk. I thought something easy for your first time ..." He trailed off when my eyes narrowed at the word easy.
I wasn't going to argue; I was too thirsty. As soon as I'd started to think about the dry burn in my throat, it was all I could think about. Definitely getting worse. My mouth felt like four o'clock on a June afternoon in Death Valley.
"Where?" I asked, scanning the trees impatiently. Now that I had given the thirst my attention, it seemed to taint every other thought in my head, leaking into the more pleasant thoughts of running and Edward's lips and kissing and... scorching thirst. I couldn't get away from it.
"Hold still for a minute," he said, putting his hands lightly on my shoulders. The urgency of my thirst receded momentarily at his touch.
"Now close your eyes," he said softly. When I obeyed, he raised his hands to my face, stroking my cheekbones. I felt my breathing speed and waited briefly again for the blush that wouldn't come.
"Listen," Edward instructed. "What do you hear?"
Everything: his perfect voice, his breath, his lips brushing together as he spoke, the whisper of birds preening their feathers in the treetops, their fluttering heartbeats, the maple leaves scraping together, the faint clicking of ants following each other in a long line up the bark of the nearest tree. But I knew he meant something specific, so I let my ears range outward, seeking something different than the small hum of life that surrounded me. There was an open space near us – the wind had a different sound across the exposed grass – and a small creek, with a rocky bed. And there, near the noise of the water, was the splash of lapping tongues, the loud thudding of heavy hearts, pumping thick streams of blood…
It felt like the sides of my throat had sucked closed.
"By the creek, to the northeast?" I asked, my eyes still shut.
"Yes." His tone was approving. "Now... wait for the breeze again and... what do you smell?"
Mostly him – his strange honey-lilac-and-sun perfume. But also the rich, earthy smell of rot and moss, the resin in the evergreens, the warm, almost nutty aroma of the small rodents cowering beneath the tree roots. And then, reaching out again, the clean smell of the water, which was surprisingly unappealing despite my thirst. I focused toward the water and found the scent that must have gone with the lapping noise and the pounding heart. Another warm smell, rich and tangy, stronger than the others. And yet nearly as unappealing as the brook. I wrinkled my nose.
He chuckled. "I know – it takes some getting used to."
"Three?" I guessed.
"Five. There are two more in the trees behind them."
"What do I do now?"
His voice sounded like he was smiling. "What do you feel like doing?"
I thought about that, my eyes still shut as I listened and breathed in the scent. Another bout of baking thirst intruded on my awareness, and suddenly the warm, tangy odor wasn't quite so objectionable. At least it would be something hot and wet in my desiccated mouth. My eyes snapped open.
"Don't think about it," he suggested as he lifted his hands off my face and took a step back. "Just follow your instincts."
I let myself drift with the scent, barely aware of my movement as I ghosted down the incline to the narrow meadow where the stream flowed. My body shifted forward automatically into a low crouch as I hesitated at the fern-fringed edge of the trees. I could see a big buck, two dozen antler points crowning his head, at the stream's edge, and the shadow-spotted shapes of the four others heading eastward into the forest at a leisurely pace.
I centered myself around the scent of the male, the hot spot in his shaggy neck where the warmth pulsed strongest. Only thirty yards – two or three bounds – between us. I tensed myself for the first leap.
But as my muscles bunched in preparation, the wind shifted, blowing stronger now, and from the south. I didn't stop to think, hurtling out of the trees in a path perpendicular to my original plan, scaring the elk into the forest, racing after a new fragrance so attractive that there wasn't a choice. It was compulsory.
The scent ruled completely. I was single-minded as I traced it, aware only of the thirst and the smell that promised to quench it. The thirst got worse, so painful now that it confused all my other thoughts and began to remind me of the burn of venom in my veins.
There was only one thing that had any chance of penetrating my focus now, an instinct more powerful, more basic than the need to quench the fire – it was the instinct to protect myself from danger. Self-preservation.
I was suddenly alert to the fact that I was being followed. The pull of the irresistible scent warred with the impulse to turn and defend my hunt. A bubble of sound built in my chest, my lips pulled back of their own accord to expose my teeth in warning. My feet slowed, the need to protect my back struggling against the desire to quench my thirst.
And then I could hear my pursuer gaining, and defense won. As I spun, the rising sound ripped its way up my throat and out.
A feral snarl came out of my mouth. It was meant to warn my follower that the prey was mine and mine alone. And I would do anything to defend it.
I crouched down waiting for him to get to me and deal with the threat that he posed to my satisfaction.
He stopped a few feet away from me, a hesitant look on his face. Even better. I could make use of his uncertainty.
With a low growl I jumped on him.
He diverted the attack by using my momentum and throwing me into a nearby tree.
"Bella, stop!"
I growled again. I had to make him understand that it was my prey; that every drop of blood belonged to me.
I made my move anew, this time managing to land a satisfying punch on his jaw and sending my attacker several feet away into the thick base of a large tree, cracking it.
Hoping he'd gotten the message, I returned to my hunt, rapidly closing the distance between me and the sweet, intoxicating blood.
With one hundred yards away from the blood, my rival found me again and launched himself knocking me down to the ground. I landed on a soft mossy patch that had a green and mellow smell of rain and late summer plants. It helped clear some of the bloodthirst from my mind.
"Bella, stop, please!"
The scent of the woods mingled with another better smell: sweet herbal honey, freshly bloomed lilac and summer sun. It was a scent that meant comfort and safety. It proved that any harm was kept at bay. It was home.
I stopped struggling.
I stopped breathing.
"Bella?" He asked above me, still pinning me down.
I wanted to cry. I could not.
It had all been too much; the pain that I'd escaped not even an hour ago; the realization that I was a danger to my daughter; the all consuming desire and need I had for both Edward and blood.
"I need to leave," I whispered.
"Can you?" He asked surprised.
I nodded.
He carefully let go of me, looking for a sign of treakery.
I burst into a run again, a flat-out sprint straight north, away from the unfortunate human, concentrating solely on the uncomfortable feeling of sensory deprivation that seemed to be my body's only response to the lack of air. My one goal was to run far enough away that the scent behind me would be completely lost. Impossible to find, even if I changed my mind...
Once again, I was aware of being followed, but I was sane this time. I fought the instinct to breathe – to use the flavors in the air to be sure it was Edward. I didn't have to fight long; though I was running faster than I ever had before, shooting like a comet through the straightest path I could find in the trees; Edward caught up with me after a short minute.
When I thought I was at a safe distance from the human I stopped and waited for a few seconds for Edward to reach me.
He blew past me, surprised by my sudden freeze. He wheeled around and was at my side in a second. He put his hands on my shoulders and stared into my eyes, shock still the dominant emotion on his face.
From his jaw, climbing up his cheek to his temple, a deep crack was present- like a fault line.
I hurt him.
I.
I'd done it. With my bare hands. Just for a little blood. I was disgusted with myself. Nothing was worth causing him any harm.
"Bella? My love? All you alright?"
"No," I said, unable to look him in the eye. "I hurt you."
He moved his hand to his cheek. "This?" He laughed. "This is nothing."
"How can you say that?"
"Because it is. I will heal. I'm healing already. Bella, darling look at me."
He came close to me and with one hand he lifted up my cheek, while putting the other around my waist.
"See?"
I did and I stared at him until all traces of my violent attack were gone from his features and his skin was again smooth and perfect. I gently caressed his face, "I am sorry."
"I am sorry. I was horribly careless. I assumed no one would be so far from the trails, but I should have checked first. Such a stupid mistake! You have nothing to apologize for"
"But I hurt you." I was still horrified that I was physically capable of such a reproachable act.
"Of course you did. That's only natural. But I can't understand how you ran away."
"What else could I do?" I asked. His attitude confused me – what did he want to have happened? "It might have been someone I know!"
He startled me, suddenly bursting into a spasm of loud laughter, throwing his head back and letting the sound echo off the trees.
"Why are you laughing at me?"
He stopped at once, and I could see he was wary again.
I took a deep calming breath. I had to get all these raging emotions under control. As if was a young werewolf rather than a vampire.
"I'm not laughing at you, Bella. I'm laughing because I am in shock. And I am in shock because I am completely amazed."
"Why?"
"You shouldn't be able to do any of this. You shouldn't be so... so rational. You shouldn't be able to stand here discussing this with me calmly and coolly. And, much more than any of that, you shouldn't have been able to break off mid-hunt with the scent of human blood so close in the air. Even mature vampires have difficulty with that – we're always very careful of where we hunt so as not to put ourselves in the path of temptation. Bella, you're behaving like you're decades rather than hours old."
"Oh." But I'd known it was going to be hard. That was why I'd been so on guard. I'd been expecting it to be difficult.
"But, I'm not rational, I attacked you; I didn't even recognize you," I admitted with deep shame in my voice.
"But you did. Maybe not at first but much much quicker than anyone my age would've." He put his hands on my face again, and his eyes were full of wonder. "What wouldn't I give to be able to see into your mind for just this one moment."
I reached up to trace the planes of his face; my fingers lingered on his lips. "I thought I wouldn't feel this way for a long time."
"I'm glad that you do," he said before giving me a tender kiss.
We stood embraced for a long time; I needed the comfort; I needed to feel safe ━ as silly as that sounds.
When all the emotions settled down, only one thing was left behind: the thirst.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes," I said, closing my eyes like I had before. I let my senses range out around me, tensed this time in case of another onslaught of the delicious taboo scent.
Edward dropped his hands, not even breathing while I listened farther and farther out into the web of green life, sifting through the scents and sounds for something not totally repellant to my thirst. There was a hint of something different, a faint trail to the east…
My eyes flashed open, but my focus was still on sharper senses as I turned and darted silently eastward. The ground sloped steeply upward almost at once, and I ran in a hunting crouch, close to the ground, taking to the trees when that was easier. I sensed rather than heard Edward with me, flowing quietly through the woods, letting me lead.
The vegetation thinned as we climbed higher; the scent of pitch and resin grew more powerful, as did the trail I followed – it was a warm scent, sharper than the smell of the elk and more appealing. A few seconds more and I could hear the muted padding of immense feet, so much subtler than the crunch of hooves. The sound was up – in the branches rather than on the ground. Automatically I darted into the boughs as well, gaining the strategic higher position, halfway up a towering silver fir.
The soft thud of paws continued stealthily beneath me now; the rich scent was very close. My eyes pinpointed the movement linked with the sound, and I saw the tawny hide of the great cat slinking along the wide branch of a spruce just down and to the left of my perch. He was big – easily four times my mass. His eyes were intent on the ground beneath; the cat hunted, too. I caught the smell of something smaller, bland next to the aroma of my prey, cowering in brush below the tree. The lion's tail twitched spasmodically as he prepared to spring.
With a light bound, I sailed through the air and landed on the lion's branch. He felt the shiver of the wood and whirled, shrieking surprise and defiance. He clawed the space between us, his eyes bright with fury. Half-crazed with thirst, I ignored the exposed fangs and the hooked claws and launched myself at him, knocking us both to the forest floor.
It wasn't much of a fight.
His raking claws could have been caressing fingers for all the impact they had on my skin. His teeth could find no purchase against my shoulder or my throat. His weight was nothing. My teeth unerringly sought his throat, and his instinctive resistance was pitifully feeble against my strength. My jaws locked easily over the precise point where the heat flow concentrated.
It was as effortless as biting into butter. My teeth were steel razors; they cut through the fur and fat and sinews like they weren't there.
The flavor was wrong, but the blood was hot and wet and it soothed the ragged, itching thirst as I drank in an eager rush. The cat's struggles grew more and more feeble, and his screams choked off with a gurgle. The warmth of the blood radiated throughout my whole body, heating even my fingertips and toes.
The lion was finished before I was. The thirst flared again when he ran dry, and I shoved his carcass off my body in disgust. How could I still be thirsty after all that?
I wrenched myself erect in one quick move. Standing, I realized I was a bit of a mess. I wiped my face off on the back of my arm and looked at my clothes; while my pants were relatively in a good state (if you ignored the blood and dirt), the same could not be said about my T-shirt, which became more of a decorative punk accessory than an item of clothing.
"Hmm," Edward said. I looked up to see him leaning casually against a tree trunk, watching me with a thoughtful look on his face.
"I guess I could have done that better." Edward didn't come home from hunting trips looking like I did.
"You did perfectly fine," he assured me. "It's just that... it was much more difficult for me to watch than it should have been."
I raised my eyebrows, confused.
"It goes against the grain," he explained, "letting you wrestle with lions. I was having an anxiety attack the whole time."
"Silly."
"I know. Old habits die hard. I like the improvements to your shirt, though."
If I could have blushed, I would have. I changed the subject. "Why am I still thirsty?"
"Because you're young."
I sighed. "And I don't suppose there are any other mountain lions nearby."
"Plenty of deer, though."
I made a face. "They don't smell as good."
"Herbivores. The meat-eaters smell more like humans," he explained.
"Not that much like humans," I disagreed, trying not to remember.
"We could go back," he said solemnly, but there was a teasing light in his eye. "Whoever it was out there probably wouldn't even mind death if you were the one delivering it." His gaze ran over my ravaged dress again. "In fact, they would think they were already dead and gone to heaven the moment they saw you."
I rolled my eyes and snorted. "Let's go hunt some stinking herbivores."
We found a large herd of mule deer as we ran back toward home. He hunted with me this time, now that I'd gotten the hang of it. I brought down a large buck, making nearly as much of a mess as I had with the lion. He'd finished with two before I was done with the first, not a hair ruffled, not a spot on his white shirt. We chased the scattered and terrified herd, but instead of feeding again, this time I watched carefully to see how he was able to hunt so neatly.
All the times that I had wished that Edward would not have to leave me behind when he hunted, I had secretly been just a little relieved. Because I was sure that seeing this would be frightening. Horrifying. That seeing him hunt would finally make him look like a vampire to me.
Of course, it was much different from this perspective, as a vampire myself. But I doubted that even my human eyes would have missed the beauty here.
It was a surprisingly sensual experience to observe Edward hunting. His smooth spring was like the sinuous strike of a snake; his hands were so sure, so strong, so completely inescapable; his full lips were perfect as they parted gracefully over his gleaming teeth. He was glorious. I felt a sudden jolt of both pride and desire.
He was mine. Nothing could ever separate him from me now. I was too strong to be torn from his side.
He was very quick. He turned to me and gazed curiously at my gloating expression.
"No longer thirsty?" he asked.
I shrugged. "You distracted me. You're much better at it than I am."
"Centuries of practice." He smiled. His eyes were a disconcertingly lovely shade of honey gold now.
"Just one," I corrected him.
He laughed. "Are you done for today? Or did you want to continue?"
"Done, I think." I felt very full, sort of sloshy, even. I wasn't sure how much more liquid would fit into my body. But the burn in my throat was only muted. Then again, I'd known that thirst was just an inescapable part of this life.
"Though, just one of my needs was satiated," I said before gently grabbing him into a sensual kiss.
He was not so hesitant in his movements; his arms locked around my waist and pulled me tight against his body. His lips crushed down on mine, but they felt soft. My lips no longer shaped themselves around his; they held their own.
Like before, it was as if the touch of his skin, his lips, his hands, was sinking right through my smooth, hard skin and into my new bones. To the very core of my body. I hadn't imagined that I could love him more than I had. My old mind hadn't been capable of holding this much love.
My old heart had not been strong enough to bear it.
Maybe this was the part of me that I'd brought forward to be intensified in my new life. Like Carlisle's compassion and Esme's devotion. I would probably never be able to do anything interesting or special like Edward, Alice, and Jasper could do. Maybe I would just love Edward more than anyone in the history of the world had ever loved anyone else.
I was perfectly fine with that.
I remembered parts of this – twisting my fingers in his hair, tracing the planes of his chest – but other parts were so new. He was new. It was an entirely different experience with Edward kissing me so fearlessly, so forcefully. I responded to his intensity, and then suddenly we were falling.
"Oops," I said, and he laughed underneath me. "I didn't mean to tackle you like that. Well, maybe I did. Are you okay?"
He stroked my face. "Slightly better than okay."
"Good," I said, ripping the buttons of his shirt.
I moved my hands up and down his torso, marveling at his beauty, before I left a trail of kisses from his neck, down to his chest and stopping at his belt buckle."
"No, Bella," he said softly, bringing me back to his lips.
"I'm the one with the debt," he growled into my ear, before making good use of his mouth.