There was a cold press to the wind as it swirled around the two. The animals kept a distance, watching as they ran past. There was a buzzing in Carlisle's ear, like a fearless bee hovering by it. He was torn between constantly swatting at it and being driven mad by it. They broke from the forest to leap over a river. It was far north Canada now, the quiet border town's atmosphere long past. Even after two hours of traveling, Whitlock hadn't said anything more to him. Silent, a few glances back to him with an expression misted in complexity. He felt the wild stirring inside, something pining, something panicking. He kept a solid pace with her.
They went east, still in the middle of the wilderness, and after another hour, she finally slowed. Pausing at a small riverbank, he stopped short. Whitlock refused to turn around to him, instead looking far out and away. Carlisle started to smell, the air holding out on him. All around him was fresh pine, a crunchy wood scent from a broken tree, and a few distant animals. Partially the jeans were found when the wind suddenly whipped in the opposite direction. Just as fast as it came, it went, leaving Carlisle with no clue about who this person was. Had he met them before? Had they met him before? While she reacted to the name Whitlock he still wasn't sure of the meaning of it or the explanation behind it. Jasper had told him about the newborns he had known, and the other vampires from the south. Unfortunately, he never met those newborns, and he never wanted to push Jasper toward the painful memories of the women. There was always pain and sadness that came with those memories, emotions that Carlisle knew personally and tried hard to keep from.
He pat his suit's pocket's and his car keys jingled. It startled Whitlock. She swung around and was halfway to him before abruptly stopping. As much as the fear was cast on him, he kept a clear and blank look on his face. Whitlock couldn't hide the readiness, the abrupt anger that spread across her face like a blush. Nor did she want to. She held his golden gaze until he turned away.
Carlisle pulled out the keys from his pocket. The car key was there, just as always. A leather band was still tied to the metal ring. He felt the long-ago initials carved into the tip.
They were gone. It was just a smooth slip of leather under his thumb.
So was the keychain Alice had gotten him from Brazil. A brazen yellow and green rectangle, in a weird size, hanging from a golden chain. In the resin were painted palm trees, hills, and beaches, with the famous Jesus statue in the middle. It was so tacky, it had always made him smile.
When he looked back up he found Whitlock eyeing him.
"What happened to the wolves?" He asked.
She waited a full minute before answering. "They have their reasons to keep us away."
Carlisle pocketed the key. "And we had a reason to live there. That house was ours, what happened to it?" The question came out harsher than he intended.
Whitlock ignored it and looked to the east. In the next second, she lept over the river. Easily she landed a few feet over, placing a hand on her hip and smirking back at him.
A simple smile slipped onto his face followed by a short leap across the river. He softly landed a short distance away. They shared a quiet moment before Whitlock took off again. Carlisle easily kept up, feeling the confusion and fear disappearing. They only ran a few more minutes before she slowed, and then stopped.
He came up beside her, his curiosity pulling him forward.
Before them was a sizable log cabin, with a long porch along its front. It looked two stories from his angle, though with Esme's expertise he could recognize how the land sloped low in the back. Easily it could be three stories, the roof pitching to a high enough point to support it. Large and clear windows decorated the building, barely a pair of curtains seen on their sides. The windows were tinted with reflection tints, deep ones that made it hard for Carlisle to see in. Carefully he took a step closer, very aware of Whitlock's movements- or lack of movements.
Neat wooden furniture sat in perfect uniform on the porch. Sitting was a tall boy, with dark hair brushed to the side. He was extremely pale, even as a vampire. His eyes were amber, with twinges of gold in them. He wore a simple pullover hoodie and jeans, not at all bothered by the harsh temperatures. The person was young, familiar in the sense he had seen them in the passing of a life. Maybe a visitor at the hospital? A possible patient? The longer he studied the boy, the more he felt uneasy. He should know this person. His mind went blank though.
They locked eyes and the boy straightened up, a pale hand knocking on the wall behind them. Behind Carlisle the woman moved, only a step. He glanced back and saw her in a stance that he recognized from Jasper during training for the Seattle newborns. She was ready. Something alerted her. He looked to the boy. They were already on the move towards the front door, disappearing behind the large and mostly solid wood. It was left open a crack, a creaking of a stair being heard in the silence.
He looked to Whitlock. "I don't want to scare anyone."
She nodded and gestured to the house in a welcoming wave. "You wanted to see the Cullens. They're inside. Most of them."
She waited for him, and moved near silently up to and inside the house. Inside was a small entry way that open to a grand space. On one side was the kitchen, open and pristine with a bar made between two large wooden columns. A dinning room table sat before it, made up with blue accented place mats and napkins. Hidden with a folding door cracked open was a staircase up. He saw two figures standing in the area. A tall and lean blonde man, in a crisp blue cardigan with a gold chain. In the kitchen but leaning over the bar was a dark haired woman with rolling curls, the blouse they wore stretching tight against their large muscles.
On the other side was the living room. It sprawled out to encompass the floor to ceiling windows that followed the back patio. A simple but lush blue couch was settled in an L before a solid fireplace, thick with stones arranged up it. It was large enough to fit a person. Maybe two! The mantle had knick-knacks on it, none that Carlisle could recognize. Above them was a large and playing TV. Beside the lip of the fireplace were several game systems, a few he thought he recognized. After a second more to look, he found a color off. Instead of blue and white, it was green and white. All black? It was an ocean-themed skin on it, and its controller was out of sight.
A short boy, of about late teens, stood by the opposing wall. Cropped dark hair, he stood with arms linked with the original boy from the porch. He had a worried and distant look.
He stopped short of the sectional and looked around more. Settled behind the living room against a paneled back wall was a small glass desk and a few inset bookshelves. Carefully he tapped the floor with his shoe, a solid dark stone covering the entire area. There was a second story loft that looked over the living room and entryway. It went off to the two opposite wings of the house.
From behind, he heard footsteps on wooden stairs. Glancing back he saw a copper haired girl walk from behind the paneled wall. She was the smallest, almost Alice size. She leaned on the wall with her arms crossed, she had a brow raised. As he turned back around he caught the girl eye Whitlock. He couldn't catch what Whitlock motioned.
"Hi." He said taking a deep breath.
The air was neutral, not too hot, not too cold. There wasn't perfume in the air like Esme did, though there was a slight aftertaste of cardboard. A package just arrived and was opened. The other's scents were mixed together, nothing distinct enough to pinpoint to a certain person.
"I'm Carlisle Cullen." He paused, thinking back to how Carine had introduced herself. He repeated it word by word. "I'm afraid our first meeting can't be of good news. And I only know because things are a bit different where I've come from. My name is Carlisle Cullen."
The woman in the kitchen straightened up, the wide smile spreading on her face despite the blonde man's glare. She walked around the bar and wrapped her arms around the unenthusiastic man, resting her chin on his shoulder.
"Welcome Mister Cullen. How can we help you?" She said with a smile, cocky and slick with ideas.
Carlisle returned a polite smile, taking a moment to look around again. "I uh." The words were jumbling in his throat, his mind was feathering and off-centered. His place in this world wasn't right, and he wasn't sure what to do about it. He looked to Whitlock. "Do you know Carine? Carine Cullen?"
There was a mix reaction to the name. The lean blond man scoffed and lowly growled, the woman wrapping tighter around him and whispering something in his ear. The two dark-haired teens exchanged glances, one pain-stricken and one regretful. Hurt crossed Whitlock's face, and it didn't leave. It was rude but Carlisle couldn't turn away from it. It was so public. And it was fresh.
"What happened?" Carlisle asked to no one in particular.
There was no answer, just more exchanges of looks.
"Do you know that my father is alive? And wants to see me?" Carlisle asked in the open space. He thought for a moment, he heard an intake of breath behind him but spoke faster than them. "Did he already come here?"
The blond man snapped his head and pushed against the woman. "Why do you care?"
Carlisle fought the instinct to run, the fear that shot through his veins suddenly. Whitlock. It had to be. None of the Cullens would harm him, no matter the situation. Right?
"I am not her. But I care a lot. I don't know exactly what is going on, I just know he creates pain where ever he goes." Carlisle explained in an even tone.
The man rolled his eyes and the woman pecked him on the cheek. The small red-haired was suddenly at his side.
"Royal! Stop it." She growled.
More fear, more of it pumping in his system. He started reading through old documents to calm himself, busy his head to keep from doing something rash. Beside him, Whitlock shuffled and crossed her arms. They still held their breath.
The red-haired girl turned to him and offered him a hand. He took it.
"I'm Edythe. Edythe Cullen."
"Very pretty name Edythe."
She looked over to the two boys standing at the fireplace. "The smaller of the two is Archie, and the other one is Beau." The taller of the two waved though his eyes were securely on Edythe. Archie was distant, looking almost through Carlisle.
After a long moment, Whitlock stirred at his other side. "My name's Jessamine."
"Hello, Jessamine." He smiled at her. Finally, she let out a breath.
"This is Eleanor and Royal."
The woman holding Royal smiled and gave a short wave. "Hey." Royal stayed looking off to the side. His shoulders were tight, his teeth peeking out from his lips and gritted.
"I'm sorry for any harm that has come about from this mess. You don't deserve it." Carlisle said softly.
Royal shook Eleanor off quickly and everyone jumped to attention. Edythe was beside him and sliding into a crouch, Jessamine laid a hand on Carlisle's shoulder. Archie pulled forward against the couch and waited with Beau taking a step. Eleanor didn't make a movement, just stilled with her golden eyes on Royal. She was the scariest one in the room.
Royal sneered at Carlisle, taking a step near him. Edythe gave a low growl. There was little anger on his face, instead pain, and betrayal taking up most of it. It reminded Carlisle of Rosalie's face after her transformation, the night it all set in on what she had truly lost. Betrayed
"No," Royal said hard. "We didn't deserve that. Not from her." There was so much pain in that word. It was ready to explode just as he was. It shook Carlisle.
"I'm sorry," Carlisle said even softer. "I didn't know what else to do."
Royal broke away towards the far stairs in seconds. Eleanor bit her lip, wanting to say something but instead going after Royal in silence. The others stayed watching him.
"I'm so sorry," Carlisle repeated.