Feud

What to do about the odd, suspicious stranger? Members of the Cullen family have their opinions, of course.

Crispin stayed in Sera's hospital room for another four hours, until Carlisle's shift was over. She was in a great deal of pain for the first hour. Even after she'd fallen into a light doze, she whined and groaned and twitched, unable to relax or sleep properly. Her long, black hair tangled around her face and she contorted herself into uncomfortable-looking positions. Crispin could only nervously watch. Being immortal, he no longer felt pain the way mortals did. He didn't know how to help. He didn't think it was a good idea to wake her up, so he just left her, cringing at the sounds of suffering, trying to run some research on his phone as a distraction. Carlisle had told Crispin only to come get him if she woke up on her own and started crying again. She did not.

Once the first hour had passed, she finally calmed down and stopped whimpering. Sera's breathing deepened and she relaxed, drifting into true sleep. This was good. Sleep was vital to recovery from a concussion. The best part was that Crispin could finally relax. He turned his attention away from flipping through useless webpages and opened the new list he'd been making. Books for Sera. The list was already twenty-three volumes in length.

The way Crispin figured it, the happier he could keep her, the more likely she'd tell him everything he wanted to know. He threw himself into his work with the passion of a scholar hunting for the truth.

Crispin observed Sera where she was curled on her side in the dark. It was nearly pitch black in her room in an effort to help her sleep, which didn't pose a challenge for his eyes, at all. He stared at her small, fragile, mortal form, wondering at himself just as much as he wondered about her. What was he doing, putting all this work into a human? He kept telling himself it was just so he could learn the truth, just to be sure that their secret was still safe in one way or another. But there was something more to it. Something inside him.

Curiosity? Interest? It just … didn't make any sense. So what if she was well-spoken and quick-minded? Who cared if she knew about Greek fire or anything else, for that matter? Why should he feel so driven to accept her playful challenge to bring books?

Why did hefeel like he needed to impress her? It wasn't even about using books to coax out the truth that she'd promised him. He wanted to impress her. To show off. He wanted her to appreciate his repertoire. He felt, as he had never done before, that she was someone who might actually understand the importance of what he was doing. He had never felt particularly admired or appreciated by most of the Cullens. He could display his glorious library to anyone in the family, and only Carlisle or Esme or Alice would really care. Nobody else did, not on the same level.

It felt as though Sera might. She might listen to his messy ideas about fire, at least, and maybe more. She knew what Greek fire was, and had enough know-how to scold him for wasting his time on inapplicable work. Those secrets were lost long ago. It's a dead end.

Crispin couldn't help it. He smiled when he thought of that incredulous look she'd given him, of her stunning blue eyes blazing like stars in the soft brown of her ethereal, clever face, commanding his attention like a bolt of lightning at midnight. You'd be better off with modern napalm. He remembered how she'd spat back at him upon waking up for the first time, annoyed when he'd prodded for information about her family. That glare she'd given him, how she'd danced around his questions, teasing. She understood things. She understood him. She did it easily.

Crispin sighed. He was getting too interested. He wanted to talk to her again, just so he could feel what it was like to be understood at his level by a peer. He wanted to talk to her about things, probe her mind, see how deep it went. Well, now was not the time. Crispin felt his face fall as he looked at the little woman half-dead in her hospital bed. She was in no condition to think about complex things. She needed to rest.

Oh well. He tried to look on the bright side. She'd get better. Until then, it gave him more time to gather books.

Crispin had expanded his list to forty volumes by the time Carlisle came to fetch him. He glanced up at the tiny knock of Carlisle's hand on the door. It was too quiet for human ears to hear, but Crispin picked it up loud and clear. He got to his feet, listening intently to the soft sounds of Sera's living body to check that she was still deeply asleep. She breathed softly and was still and calm. Her heart beat out its little tune at a steady, lazy pace. She was still deeply asleep. All the better. He slipped out the door.

Carlisle said nothing at first. He only spoke when they had started driving, Crispin in the passenger seat. "I see she finally stopped hurting."

Crispin sighed, shutting his eyes for a minute as he remembered the stress of sitting near her for the first miserable hour. Strange to think that, not many years ago, he would have happily caused her that kind of pain just to get a blood meal.

Things were very different, now.

"How do you treat a human in pain like that?" Crispin wondered. "It was hard to watch. I didn't know how to help."

Carlisle was smiling. "I know it's hard. It's one of the reasons why I do what I do. Because I can make it better. And it's a wonderful feeling when I can." He examined Crispin for a moment, driving with his peripheral vision. Crispin geared up to be interrogated. The doctor had that look about him. "How was your thirst while you were with her?"

Crispin blinked. This was not the question he had expected. "I … don't know. It wasn't bad, I suppose. I honestly paid it no attention."

Carlisle looked very pleased. "Too busy thinking to worry about thirst, I presume?"

Crispin grinned. "I did do a great amount of thinking."

"Well, good. At least you don't have to worry the way Edward did with Bella. Of course, we can't ever let our guard down," Carlisle added, sternly. Crispin vigorously nodded. Rule number one of living among mortals. Constant vigilance.

The doctor sighed and then chuckled to himself. "So what were you thinking about today?"

"Books," said Crispin, truthfully. "She might not be in any state to read them for a week, but I did promise to bring some."

"How many did you think of?"

Crispin looked down at his knees, caught. "Er … forty-two."

Carlisle broke into soft laughter. "Oh, Crispin!"

"I might have to raid your library," Crispin apologized. "You have some good ones."

Carlisle grinned out the windshield, his white porcelain skin reflecting the streetlights and his perfect teeth shining, gold eyes sparkling under the moon's pale glow. "I have no doubt she'll be very happy with whatever you choose. Just … take it slowly. Let her mind heal before you overload her too much. You might even read to her so she doesn't have to stare at the page for too long."

And that made Crispin feel remarkably warm inside, even though his heart was dead.

The tone grew more somber as they approached the house. The town was left behind and darkness swallowed them up, although their vampire eyes could still see perfectly clearly, the world popping out of the darkness in greys and whites as their night vision gave them sight. Crispin considered what he'd say to the family as they drew nearer. His concerns about Sera's knowledge, what it meant for their safety, and, most importantly, the unforeseen feelings he was having. He'd walked out of the house when the night had begun with only curiosity and a certain bafflement about the odd human girl. Now he was more interested than ever, and in different ways than he had been before. He hadn't expected to feel a kind of kinship to her, a sort of understanding and cohesiveness. Their conversation had been incredibly brief, but she'd battled wills with him on a remarkable level.

And, inexplicably, he wanted more of that.

It was potentially problematic. Vampires were not supposed to be so fiercely interested in mortals in this way. But here they were.

Bah.

The house came into view, looming out of the moonless night. The faint light of the stars caught in the glass of the vast windows and sent shimmering bursts of color invisible to the human eye in every direction. Ah, the full glories of the electromagnetic spectrum! Crispin still had no idea how he'd plowed through his human life without the ultraviolet and other wavelengths. So boring without them. This moonless night was totally unremarkable to the human gaze. Crispin felt sorry for the mortals, suddenly thinking of the small woman back in her hospital bed. She would never know the glories of the hidden light of the stars.

Carlisle kindly led the way into the house. Crispin sulked behind him, trying to gather his strength in case of an explosion. He'd somehow dragged the family into an awkward situation, it was true. The weight of the blame would fall on him. He'd have to grin and bear it.

They were all gathered in the living room. First and most apparent was the powerful, wet-dog stink of Jacob Black, Renesmee's imprinter. He'd had to leave his pack in Forks to follow them here, but the sacrifice was worth it to him as long as Renesmee was around.

And if Jacob was present, that meant Renesmee, her mother, and Edward were there. Crispin sighed. Let the mind-reading commence. If it hadn't begun long ago while they'd still been miles down the road. Edward was getting more sensitive to Crispin's mental voice the longer he lived with the family. He would have started listening in to Carlisle's thoughts miles down the road.

And so the pressing issues might already be forefront.

They walked in to find the other vampires (and one shape-shifter) plopped in couches and standing against the walls, waiting. Crispin felt all the eyes on him and cringed. He directed a sharp thought purposefully at bronze-haired Edward, who stood with a white arm around Bella's perfect waist by the vast front window. Did you tell them everything?

"Everything that I've heard so far," Edward said, simply. "Although I didn't know about the book list. That's new."

Everyone else shot him curious looks. He waved them away. "I'll explain later."

Crispin scowled, furiously. I prefer to keep some things private, Edward.

Edward frowned. "Like the fact that your new friend knows our secret? That doesn't seem like a good thing to keep private, Crispin."

All the eyes were back on Crispin. He stared them all down, coolly. "I have not confirmed that she knows. I don't want to say anything until I know for certain what's going on." He shot Edward a fierce look. "And this is not certain."

"You seem quite certain about it."

Exasperation. "I am not! It's only half-baked speculation based on scant evidence. I'm not ready to pull the trigger on anything other than learning more."

"Do we have time for you to 'learn more?'" Rosalie hissed, scathingly. "If she knows what you are, she's going to tell someone. We still have a few years left here, Crispin. You're not messing that up."

Crispin examined the poorly-tempered she-vampire for a minute. Rosalie was an angry wildcat: self-conscious and self-absorbed, with a distaste for mud and a tendency to scream and claw at anything she didn't like.

"How exactly would I 'mess this up?'" Crispin wondered, legitimately. "It's not my fault if she knows. And, let's be perfectly clear, I will make every effort to prevent her from spreading gossip if I can. She doesn't seem like one to do such a thing, anyway," he added, thinking of her intense glare as she challenged him to bring books.

Rosalie sneered. "Oh, right. Edward mentioned you were getting a little infatuated."

Crispin sighed, still exasperated. He nearly spoke, but Carlisle beat him to it, to his surprise. "Rosalie, I don't think we should be finding fault with Crispin having a friend," he said.

The look Rosalie gave the oldest vampire in the family would have been worth ten of these arguments. Crispin battled down laughter. She was so betrayed. Had she really thought Carlisle would take her side?

"Rosalie," said Carlisle, with all the tenderness of a loving parent. "Remember what happened last time we had this discussion? We were all very worried about what Bella would do knowing the truth. And look how far we've come!" He gestured toward Bella and Edward, full of meaning. Whatever Edward heard from Carlisle's mind made him happy. He beamed. "I don't see why we should overreact to Crispin's discovery. Unless Alice sees something of importance about Sera choosing to spread rumors, I don't think we should worry. Besides, she's trapped in a hospital bed for now … and will be for some time. She isn't going anywhere."

Everybody looked at Alice. Crispin, however, watched Edward. He was always the first to give some sign of what Alice was thinking. Without quite meaning to be, he was an excellent forewarning system.

And, as Crispin watched, Edward's face pulled into something that seemed … alarmed.

Crispin quickly turned his attention to tiny Alice. She had her lips pursed, watching him. "Crispin, you should know … I can't see her. Or you, when you're with her."

Crispin looked at the floor as his mind seized upon the news. Sera blocked Alice's visions? But … that couldn't be. Wait a moment …

"Maybe it's because you haven't met her yet," Crispin ventured. He needed to clarify before thinking further. Alice shook her head.

"I could see Bella before I met her. It wasn't as easy as normal, but I could see her. But I've never seen Sera, and you disappear when you're near her."

The mental floodgates opened and Crispin started making connections. He turned to gaze at Jacob. Hmm …

"Hey, stop that!" Edward complained. "I can't follow you when you're darting all over the place. Slow down!"

Crispin rolled his eyes. As if I wanted you to hear me in the first place, eavesdropper. Just be quiet a minute. I think I may have found something …

But it all culminated in a frustrating dead end. The only creatures Crispin had knowledge of that Alice could not see were the Quileute shapeshifters. Was it possible that Sera was one of them? But, no, she couldn't be. She didn't carry that awful dog-stink, for one thing, and she wasn't Native American for another. She was something else … dark-skinned and blue-eyed … Crispin made a mental note to do some research later. Perhaps she was something like the Quileute? But that was where Crispin hit the wall.

He had no evidence. She didn't smell non-human, she didn't act particularly non-human, and she looked about as human as it was possible to look. There was nothing unusual about her besides … mortality.

Crispin was zipping up his jacket before he quite knew it, turning back to the door, completely absorbed in his thoughts. Carlisle moved like lightning, catching his wrist in a firm, white hand. "Whoa, where are you going? What's happening?"

Oh. Crispin blinked. He'd forgotten the physical world for a moment. "I just realized—I need to see the scene of the accident."

"Why? What did you find?" Carlisle was probing for info, and Crispin wasn't ready to talk.

"I'm not … certain. I need to confirm … think I have a lead, but I'm not sure, yet—"

Rosalie made a vicious little noise behind him. Carlisle gave her a warning glare. Edward, infuriatingly, started trying to translate Crispin's thoughts for the rest of the family.

"He thinks she's related to the Quileute shapeshifters," he said, unhelpfully. Jacob started, straightening up and unfolding his arms.

"What?!" he demanded. Renesmee put a soothing hand on his arm, holding him back.

"No! Of course she's not Quileute," Crispin snapped, irritably. "She's not even Native American. I dowonder if she may be like them. Very like them. But I don't know anything for sure. I need evidence. Hence going to the scene of the accident."

Everyone stared at him. Crispin was caught—he needed to go, before he lost his train of thought, but he couldn't leave in the middle of the conversation. He glanced at Carlisle. The older vampire sighed.

"Can you wait, Crispin? Just for a moment? We need to decide what to do next."

Well, he couldn't really wait. But Crispin would never disobey Carlisle. He sighed and unzipped his jacket. "Okay. Let's be quick."

"Be quick!" Rosalie spat. "Be quick, he says!"

Carlisle glared at her again. She shut her mouth for the time being. Thank you.

"The first thing," Carlisle began, calmly, "is to learn how much she knows. She has promised to tell Crispin everything if he brings her books to read while she's in the hospital."

And if she likes me enough, Crispin remembered. That's what she'd said. It was part of the challenge. He was abruptly seized by a wash of unease. Oh dear, what if she DOESN'T like me? Then, realizing what he'd just felt, Crispin glared at Edward. Not a word! The older vampire just smiled.

Jasper spoke for the first time. He was with Alice in the corner, his shimmering scars catching the light overhead and making him look even more vicious than usual. "Do we have to wait that long? We could get our answers from her a lot sooner if we had Edward go listen to her."

Crispin winced. He wished Jasper hadn't said that. Of course he'd already thought of this idea but … oh, he hated having his mind eavesdropped on! It unsettled his whole soul just to think of subjecting Sera to a mind-reading without her permission. It wasn'tright. It wascruel. He turned to Carlisle and was alarmed by the doctor's thoughtful look.

"It's … not a bad idea," Carlisle said.

"No," Crispin hissed. "We can't!"

Carlisle gave Crispin an apologetic look. "Crispin … I know you don't like having your mind listened to, but it won't do her any harm. We just need to know that she's safe."

"And if she does know the truth?" Crispin demanded, a little more harshly than he'd intended. "What then? What's to stop a certain someone—" he glared at Rosalie, "from taking her out on the spot?"

"I absolutelyforbid anyone to cause that girl any harm," Carlisle growled. His voice was suddenly strong, almost thunderous. But of course it wasn't too loud—Carlisle never yelled. Crispin inched back a little. Carlisle could radiate power when he tried. A moment passed and the doctor was back to his usual calm, amiable self. He focused on Crispin, gentle once more. "Jasper's idea is a good one, Crispin. Maybe it's best for all our safety."

Crispin stared, helplessly, feeling his determination cracking. He couldn't argue with Carlisle. What about all the books he'd been planning? All that effort, and for what? How could he possibly hope to earn her trust when he was about to lie to her? No, it wasn't right. He was still unsettled.

Edward made a weary noise from where he stood by Bella. "He reminds me of myself," he told his mate. Bella giggled, grinning in that bashful-but-totally-not way of hers. Crispin scowled. Edward was missing the point. He almost spoke, but his older brother held up a long white finger. "Look. I'll help you drag all those books of yours into her hospital room in the morning, okay? It's a good excuse, your brother just being helpful. And that way you'll still get to deliver your payload, and she'll still have a reason to like you. You don't have to tell her about the mind-reading. She never has to know. Capeesh?"

Crispin chewed his tongue with his razor-sharp teeth, trying to put his thoughts together. There's still a chance she doesn't know about vampires, he reminded himself. And if she doesn't … she may never need to. Don't let this get out of hand.

Deal, he thought at Edward. He shot Carlisle a miserable glance. "I still don't like manipulating this out of her."

"Don't think of it that way," Carlisle offered. "You can make it up to her with all the books and mind games you can think of."

"Books," Rosalie spat, disgusted.

Crispin closed his eyes, reigning in his temper. Soon he'd be free to talk books for hours on end.

Oh, what bliss it would be.