Chapter 13: Dreams

Research was going nowhere fast.

The Cullens went down every avenue they could think of to get some semblance of what and who had caused Edythe's change; their expansive knowledge on vampirism, both from Carine's own experiences and that of the texts which she had kept over the centuries, was coming up empty, and there was nothing to be gained from following the same trail the creature had taken, though Eleanor and Jessamine often did, as if waiting for some magic clue to appear. Nothing could be found to give any insight into how the change had happened, or what the long-term effects were; this lead everyone, most of all Edythe, at square one.

Edythe pushed her laptop away forcefully; instead of sending it across the room into a million pieces as such effort might have caused before, the device skidded a foot backward on the dining table in Charlie's small kitchen.

"I can't believe there's nothing, nothing, to be found," she said in aggravation, the cadence of a growl issuing through her teeth.

"Don't give up yet, Edythe," Carine's voice said from where her phone sat face-up on speaker. "There has to be something."

"I don't know where else to look," Edythe responded, pulling her legs up to fold them under herself. She was dressed comfortably—now she understood the craze for leggings and sweatpants—and she leaned her head on her knee, glaring at the screen of her laptop, which was covered in academic black text, detailing a legend about human malformation popular in the fourteenth century.

"Give yourself a rest for tonight," Carine said. "It's already late." Edythe glanced at the clock above the sink; it was nearly midnight. Beau and Charlie had already gone up to bed, but Edythe was too engrossed in the hunt for information to stop when Beau had asked her to. He let her be, knowing there was no stopping her once she started. Edythe appreciated it, though it hadn't led anywhere useful anyway. But part of her was glad to have the hours tick by; it meant less time she would have to spend tossing around, engrossed in nightmares she couldn't control.

Carine had brought up the nightmares in one of their many conversations over the past two days; her mother believed Edythe's dreams were a result of post-traumatic stress. Though she could hardly call her transformation 'traumatic', Carine argued it was a large amount of change and stress put on her at once, and though the change itself may not have been 'bad', the effect could be distressing. Carine also believed that Edythe's reactions to the family could be attributed to the same stress.

This, though, they were working on; they were invigorated by the progress Edythe had made with Carine. And so, Edythe was on the phone with them almost all day, for hours. With Carine, Archie, Earnest, Eleanor, or Jessamine, just talking to them, discussing everything from the move to Ithaca to possibilities of the origin of her transformation, they spoke about everything. Though she couldn't see them, she found the conversations comforting, giving her more and more memories to fall back on, hoping to stockpile them so when she could return home, her reactions would be less severe. She missed them all dearly, and every day she hoped to be strong enough to go home. But she didn't think she was ready yet.

Archie tried to make her feel better, knowing she was beating herself up for something she couldn't control, telling her she wasn't allowed back until her room was renovated, by which distraction came to the forefront as she tried to grill him for details on exactly what he was doing to her room. He would just laugh and assure her she would love it.

Edythe and Beau had spent the past two days in the house, just enjoying each other's company. They looked into the colleges near Ithaca and had started applications; Beau was going into college undecided, trying to decide between business analytics and English. Edythe had encouraged him to try both, to see how he would like it, but he knew he had a decent amount of college credits ready for him from the advanced placement courses he had taken in Phoenix.

Edythe had chosen to enter without a set degree path, with the intent to streamline her classes after getting some experience in the veterinary field, which Amanda Thompson was only too happy to provide. She and Edythe had texted a handful of times, whereby Amanda had recommended to go in as an undecided major since she could choose the classes, and, if she chose to pursue veterinary school, to focus only on the prerequisite courses need for entrance.

Both Edythe and Beau were going to apply for early-decision entry, with the idea to try to go to college earlier, if feasible. They were both skeptical of how the town and their classmates would react to Edythe's drastically different nature, and wanted to minimize the spread of potential gossip as much as possible. Hopefully, if everything worked out, they could be settled in Ithaca by New Years'.

It was a plan, but not one set in stone. They were pleased with being able to take their time, to ease into the idea, though there were still many decisions to be made. Charlie knew of their plans and, though a little thrown by the idea of starting college so early, was proud by the prospect of Beau being accepted into the accelerated program.

Edythe shook her head, bringing herself back to reality.

"Well, I give up for tonight. I'll talk to you tomorrow," she said.

"Good night, Edythe. Sleep well," Carine replied.

"I always try," she sighed heavily, before ending the call. She closed her laptop and moved to stand, stretching. She grabbed her things and carried them upstairs. Slipping quietly into Beau's room, she tiptoed to his desk to place her laptop before stripping down to her pajamas, tossing her hoodie over the back of his desk chair. She crawled into bed, snuggling under Beau's arm where he lay on his side. Though asleep, his arm tightened over her and she smiled. Her last thought before she fell unconscious was the same every night, the hope to have a peaceful night.

"Carine," Archie called her name at a normal volume; Carine looked up from the her laptop to meet her son's concerned gaze as he stepped into her office. Immediately, she was on edge by the expression on his face. She pulled her fingers away from the keys and turned to face him completely.

"What is it, Archie?" she asked. He shook his head, touching his temple ever so slightly.

"You should go to Beau's house," he said simply. "Edythe's going to have another nightmare."

Carine nodded, but not completely understanding. She knew Edythe's nightmares had not disappeared since being at Beau's, but they had eased, from what Beau had told her. Edythe was not willing to describe the nature of the dreams that haunted her, but her reactions alone made Carine believe they were horrific to say the least. She did not understand how her presence would be required tonight, but she had learned long ago to trust Archie's judgement with things like this. She closed the lid of her computer and flitted down the stairs, kissing Earnest quickly before departing.

She arrived at the edge of Charlie's property a few minutes later and listened closely to the sounds within the now familiar little house. Charlie's snores were evident as ever and she moved to focus on the two heartbeats in the bedroom that faced east. Beau was asleep, but not deeply, Carine could tell from his heart rate. Edythe, unfortunately, was unconscious and seemed to be trapped in the beginning of one of her dreams. Her heart rate was fast, too fast for her to be comfortably asleep, and her breathing started to increase as well. Carine heard the movement of air and heard the sheets sliding against each other as she tossed and moved restlessly. Concerned, she lay her hand against the trunk of one of the nearby hemlocks, continuing to listen.

"Mm." The word passed through Edythe's lips softly, reacting to what ever her mind was showing her. Her heart began to gallop and her breathing turned to gasps. There was more movement but Carine was not at an angle where she could see into the room, so she was unsure what Edythe's body was doing.

"No, don't," Edythe muttered. The low phrase slipped through her clenched teeth; though not very loud, it woke Beau. He seemed to have trained his body to listen for Edythe's distress and he stirred, his arm wrapping around her shoulders automatically. He pulled himself up onto his elbow, hugging her to him; the past couple of nights, this had been effective at pushing the dreams down further into Edythe's subconscious, but not this time. The hold on her seemed to scare her and she struggled against Beau's grasp, her legs kicking unconsciously.

"No, no, please, don't! Carine!" The blood-curdling scream cut through Carine like a hot knife, immobilizing her to the spot. She wondered why on Earth Archie would have her come here if he knew she would have to listen to this. She listened as she heard Edythe's heart stutter and then began to sprint. Carine heard the bed creak as Edythe sat up in bed. Charlie's snores stopped and Carine heard his bedsprings complain as he half-sat up too. Realizing the cause of the commotion, he debated on going in to check on the teenagers across the hall; after a moment though, he lay back down, resolving to allow

Beau to handle Edythe, considering he would be of little help anyway.

Carine heard as Edythe got out of bed, almost lurching across the room and collapsing on the floor close to the window. Beau's footsteps followed hers, moving to her side, and his soft, but anxious words whispered her, trying to get Edythe to look at him. She ignored him, her heartbeat still frantic, and her breaths turning to gasps; Carine heard the sound of nylon against her hands, working to open her bag in the dark. She seemed desperate, though neither Beau or Carine could guess why, needing something from her bag as if her life depended on it.

After another moment and no success for what she was searching for, Edythe let out a pained choking sound, and Carine had to fight to stay where she was, her own anxiety skyrocketing as she heard Beau kneel besides Edythe, determined to figure out what she wanted. His words clued Carine into the fact that there was something seriously wrong, beyond what Carine or Beau anticipated. Edythe's breaths came in painful rasps, her heart stuttering erratically and her pulse hammering.

Carine listened to the exchange between Edythe and Beau, hearing Beau trying to calm her shudders unsuccessfully as Edythe murmured unintelligible nonsense interlaced with Carine's name. She found, in recognizing the signs, that she could not hold herself in place any longer. Despite the ramification it may have on Edythe's progress, the doctor could not stand by; her daughter wanted her, needed her, and Carine needed to comfort her child.

Carine moved across the lawn swiftly, scaling the side of Beau's house and holding herself on the ledge of the window. She tapped on the glass as softly as she could but Beau jumped all the same. When his eyes focused on her, he bolted to the window, unlatching it and allowing Carine to step soundlessly into the room. The vampire moved to Edythe's side swiftly, crouching down to Edythe's level. She froze for a half-second, taking in Edythe's form to see the undeniable human changes, still so strange to associate with Edythe herself.

Edythe's hair was slightly longer, maybe one-sixteenth of an inch, and more straight than it had been when she was a vampire. She was still on the thin side, Carine saw with dismay, and her eyes had purple bruises under them; though before indicative of her vampiric nature, now only showed her sleepless nights haunted by the nightmares that she would not reveal. But these were all general changes; the parts that were more obvious to her now were the acute symptoms.

Edythe was covered in a sheen of sweat, and her heart was racing. She was trembling, and her body was held carefully, as if waiting for an attack. Her arms were clamped over her torso protectively, clutching her sides as if she were having difficulty breathing.

"Edythe?" Carine said softly, not wanting to scare Edythe more than she already was. Though Edythe had allowed her to be near her twice before, that was when she was fully in control of her senses and mind, which was obviously not the case now. Confirming her hesitation, Edythe's heart rate spiked even higher at her call, but whether from surprise or panic, the doctor could not be sure. Carine reached out and turned on the lamp before kneeling besides Edythe, knowing her human daughter wouldn't be able to see her through the darkness. Edythe blinked at the sudden light before realizing her mother knelt in front of her. Carine's hands were held out to show they were empty, a defensive posture, meant to not entice fear. Beau stood behind Carine, watching the exchange, eyes flicking between her and Edythe.

"Edythe, look at me," Carine instructed, finding the balance between tender and assertive in the order. Edythe glanced up, focusing on Carine's face. Carine could see the unbridled terror and panic in the green eyes, and her fears were confirmed.

"Does your chest hurt?" Carine asked; Edythe hesitated a moment before giving a quick nod. Carine paused for another moment before speaking once more, the tone as gentle as she could make it.

"Edythe, what do you need?" she prompted quietly. Edythe gasped, trying to catch her breath.

"I—I don't—know," she strained.

"Okay," Carine said softly, then moved slightly closer. Edythe watched her, the expected panic from her vampire mother's presence overwhelmed by the overarching anxiety that had come from she wasn't sure.

"I'm going to touch you," Carine told her, "If you don't want that, push against me and I'll stop." Edythe didn't respond, watching as if trapped as her mother shifted to sit besides her. Carine reached for Edythe, her hands lifting the young girl into her lap and wrapping her arms around her. The vampire pressed Edythe to her stone cold body, cradling her head between her shoulder and her chin. Edythe pressed her cheek into Carine's collarbone, immediately feeling the stark coolness engulf her body. Though Carine's grip was strong as she held her securely in place—ensuring Edythe unconsciously didn't lash out to injure herself—her touch was gentle, feather-light. Her words came quietly, working to soothe.

"Listen to my voice, Edythe," she said, "Listen to what I'm telling you." She paused momentarily before continuing.

"You're having a panic attack," she told her softly, "It won't last forever; it will be over soon. Listen to me, listen to my words." Edythe's breath hitch at the word, her trembling increasing, but it was immediately countered by a reactive flexing of Carine's arms, holding her firmly against her body.

"You're safe, Edythe," Carine promised her, "Nothing is going to hurt you here. If you can, try to slow your breathing to match mine. Can you hear my breaths?" Edythe tried to focus, and after a moment, she heard the gentle flow of air between her mother's lips, just inches away from her neck. Carine's scent blew across her face as her mother exhaled, and the associations with it seemed to nag at the back of Edythe's head. It was familiar, and brought with it all the things Edythe had associated with Carine herself: compassion, wisdom, devotion. Edythe inhaled sharply.

"Good," Carine praised, "Keep breathing, Edythe. You're safe; nothing is hurting you. I'm not hurting you. I won't hurt you." Edythe worked to obey, concentrating hard on Carine, her words as well as her even, rhythmic breaths. Carine could see she was trying to listen, but was still struggling. Gently, the doctor moved her hand to press gently against Edythe's stomach.

"Deep breath for me, Edythe," she coached softly, "And when you exhale, I want you to move my hand. Breathe into your belly." Edythe didn't fully understand, but did as Carine asked, trying to fight back the undulating emotions in order to focus. She inhaled, taking in both the fresh air around her as well as the vampire's scent for a moment, then immediately exhaled, pushing out with her lungs as much as she could.

"There," Carine murmured, "That's it, Edythe. Another breath for me, just like that." Edythe obeyed, and she finally felt a small percentage of the numb sensation in her toes leave. She continued the exaggerated breaths, her cheek pressed against Carine's shoulder.

Behind her body's inadvertent reactions, her mind was going a mile a minute. She knew objectively that Carine was closer to her than she ever had been before and she felt, underneath the panic attack, that there was a small voice in the back of her head screaming at her to get away, to escape from the vampire that had their strong, indestructible arms around her comparatively fragile body.

But Carine continued to speak to her, murmuring soft instructions and encouraging her to continue the breathing pattern. Her words were tender, wrapped in the same kindness and love she always had through Edythe's entire vampire life. She was reminded again of how easy it had been to love Carine, to see her as her mother in every sense of the word except for genetic basis.

Though there was a small voice that yelled at her to run, the louder voice told Edythe to acknowledge and recognize Carine's touch, her voice, and her love that stemmed from them. Carine had come here to check on her, watch over her. And she had come to Edythe's aid, knowing immediately what was happening to her, and taking over to protect her. Carine was providing Edythe the security and answers she needed, all the while knowing how afraid Edythe might be of her. But she had done it anyway, choosing that risk was less than that of the panic attack.

Outside her physical body, where her body was fighting her own mind, Edythe found herself wrapped in Carine's—her mother's—protection and affection. And she made an effort to latch onto it.

"Mom," she whimpered; she knew her voice sounded broken and terrified, but the panic gripped her tighter. She felt as if she were dangling over the edge of a cliff, unable to pull herself up, and her legs unable to find purchase beneath her. And so, all she could was cry out for help.

Carine heard the same thing in her voice, and her still heart clenched at the word. Her children had all called her by the title many times throughout the years; each time they did, her heart would trill with joy, almost as if it were to beat again. They all knew how much being called 'Mom' meant to Carine, and they always made an effort to do it to cheer her up or make her feel extra loved. But this time, the title was not used in relation to an underlying tease or as a tender moment after a long discussion. The panic and fragility that leaked into Edythe's voice unnerved Carine; it was too shaky of an inflection to have come from the lips of the strong, stubborn girl Carine had lived with for the past century.

Without hesitation, Carine spoke softly to Edythe, somehow knowing the exact words to say.

"Shhh, darling, I'm here," she crooned, "I'm right here. It's all right."

The promise was iron-clad and Edythe exhaled shakily, her hands moving to grip Carine's fingers that were pressed gently to her belly, her head turning to press her face into Carine's neck. She didn't fully understand why, but though before she knew her body had instructed her to be terrified of her mother, now she needed to touch Carine, to feel the person she had been with for over a hundred years.

The vampire felt as Edythe's body shifted, from wanting to pull away to leaning into her heavily, as if she were trying to carry a heavy burden on her shoulders and she was too weak to do so anymore, which was mostly accurate. Carine immediately took Edythe's weight, tucking her daughter's head under her chin. Her hand that Edythe covered moved from her stomach, flipping to hold her hand. The other hand moved to run gently up and down Edythe's arm that was not tucked into her side.

Making sure to keep her touch light and soothing, Carine repeated the predictable pattern, moving from Edythe's shoulder down to her wrist and back. She barely heard Beau step back to sit on the far end of the bed, wanting to give her and Edythe what little privacy and space he could. Carine tilted her face down to look at Edythe's, seeing the human girl holding onto her desperately. And it scared her. Carine had never seen Edythe so helpless, not since she had awoken to her vampire life. The Edythe she held now was so different than the Edythe she knew, but simultaneously, she was the same.

Edythe had always been stubborn, opinionated, always wanting to do for herself, by herself. She never wanted to be a burden to the family; she always moved without complaint, worked to help adjust the family dynamic as the coven grew and developed. She had always been independent and, like the rest of Carine's children, self-sufficient. She and her siblings had the eternal mentality of teenagers and Carine and Earnest had long ago adapted into the parental roles to match that; this solidified Earnest's place as patriarch and Carine as matriarch and coven leader. Neither of them minded in the least, more than willing to fulfill that part in the family.

But, Carine found now that this had changed, at least for Edythe, and subsequently for herself.

Edythe's entire existence had been turned upside down in the past five days; she was no longer a forever-young immortal. She was seventeen again, in every sense of the word; she was human, something that, though she had been working to mimic and hold onto for the past century, she did not know how to be. Carine had no doubt Edythe was surrounded by doubt and guilt and uncertainty, and was just trying to find a way to survive the day, or, in this case, night.

As she gazed down at who she considered her first-born daughter, Carine felt a new facet of herself had been awakened, an aspect of the maternal role she had never had to adopt before. Edythe needed—not only that, she was asking for—Carine's protection, needing the security of her mother and her family. Carine was acutely aware now that Edythe could no longer protect herself, both from herself as she struggled to find her footing in her humanity, as well as from the supernatural threat that was targeting her. Whether from the nightmares that plagued her tonight, or whatever other many possible obstacles down the line, Edythe needed her parents, her mother.

A new emotion burned through Carine in that instant, a differentiation of her maternal instincts. It was warm, like fire, fiercely protective, but also gentle and affectionate. And that seemed to wrap around Edythe as well, while Carine moved to pull her closer.

"You're safe, Edythe. Nothing is going to hurt you. I won't let anything hurt you," Carine promised her quietly. Edythe forced out a large gulp of air, her head and shoulders sagging as Carine spoke to her.

"Mom," she said again, but the sound was not so broken. It was a sound of recognition, of love, of trust. Somehow, an invisible bridge seemed to snap into place in Edythe's mind, the link between her new human mind and her vampire one. The years seemed to play at high speed across her vision, drowning out the last of that small voice in the back of her head.

Every moment, every evening, everything settled back into its original place in her mind, reorganizing in her consciousness like befallen books replaced to their shelves. She recalled her reactions to not just Carine, but to her family, and found them ridiculous, and that feeling stayed, even with Carine holding her. Her trust in Carine allowed her to let her love her and protect her. Carine's words, and her promise in those words, grounded her.

"It's me, sweetheart," Carine assured her as she felt Edythe tighten her hold on her. "You're all right." As she spoke, she noted as Edythe's breathing finally seemed to soften, the tension in Edythe's body relaxing slightly, and her heartbeat following, finally leveling out. Carine herself relaxed as the panic attack seemed to loosen its grip on Edythe, and her human daughter released the last of the tension in her body.

"There," Carine murmured soothingly, "You're okay, Edythe. It's all okay. Nothing is hurting you..."

Edythe sighed heavily, pressing her cheek into Carine's neck. Carine continued the same ministration, running her fingers gently across Edythe's skin. This, too, was new to her; no longer comparable to her own granite hard skin, it was soft and pliable like any other human. It felt strange, but as Edythe pressed into her, she recognized her all the same. The matriarch looked up at Beau after another minute.

"Go back to bed," she encouraged, "I'll stay with her."

Beau nodded easily, but came over to offer her a thick blanket that had lay over the foot of the bed. Carine took it and wrapped Edythe in it, hoping to minimize the chill of her body, though Edythe didn't seem to mind. Beau lay back down as Carine leaned against the wall beneath the window. Neither Cullen spoke for a few minutes, Carine waiting until Beau's vitals had steadied before speaking quietly.

"How are you feeling?" she asked. Edythe didn't answer for a moment. She was thinking back; though she easily recalled every facet of the panic attack, she couldn't immediately recall the trigger for it. When she said as much, Carine grimaced slightly.

"Panic attacks don't always have to have a trigger," she told Edythe, "But often it is a distressing experience; I believe the dreams you've been having is a legitimate enough causative factor."

The reminder made Edythe tense, finally bringing back the focus of the nightmare she'd had not long ago. The images flooded back behind Edythe's eyes and her body began to tremble slightly again.

The nightmare had been the worst one yet, always starting off the same and ending with a new assailant, one per night. The first night, it had been faceless; the second, Royal. Her mind had added Jessamine's, Eleanor's, and Archie's faces onto her imagined predator, terrifying her into hysterics. The remembered conversations on the phone with them had been sufficient to allow her to calm down once she had woken from the dreams; once conscious, she could conjure up her memories to remind her that her dreams were wrong, that they were simply embellishments, imaginations her mind cruelly used to scare her.

But tonight, it hadn't been any of her siblings that stalked her down the alley; it was Carine.

The face of her mother superimposed over the aggressive, murderous assailant had terrified and shocked Edythe more than any other pairings. She had rebelled even as her mind played out the scene; she knew Carine and all that she stood for, and it was in direct contrast to what her mind was showing her, what it was trying to make Carine to be. She loved Carine, she revered her, and she knew her creator would never be capable of such an act. It was what allowed her to free herself of the nightmare and it was that urge that made her desperate to try to get to her phone, to hear Carine's voice, to solidify the person she knew and loved and block out all memory of such a fictional abomination.

Even now, the dream had felt so real to Edythe, though she knew she was sitting in her mother's lap. She could not reconcile the images together, the Carine in front of her and the one in her dream. She refused to look Carine in the eye, too horrified and too ashamed of what she had seen. Carine didn't speak for a moment, gauging Edythe's reaction before prompting.

"What are the dreams about?" she asked softly; Edythe glanced up to her and then looked away quickly, abhorred to admit what her mind had created in her head.

"Edythe, I can't help you unless I know," Carine told her. "Please. Tell me."

Edythe didn't meet her gaze, deliberating. Carine gave her time, letting her gather her thoughts.

"It's only one dream," she started, "It's actually a memory, from when I left. When I hunted…in Detroit. But it's different; half-way through, it changes, where I'm the one being stalked, being…" Edythe's breath caught as she tried to get it out. Carine waited patiently, her fingers still running over Edythe's skin comfortingly.

"There's someone coming after me in the alley, and I can't see until the last moment who it is," Edythe continued, reaching up to wipe away the tears leaking for the corners of her eyes. But, as she spoke, more tears replaced the ones she tried to remove. "I've seen Royal, Jess, El, and tonight…"

"You saw me," Carine finished. Edythe nodded, her fingers unable to keep up with the stream of salt water coming from her tear ducts. Carine did not know what to say, watching how horrified Edythe had been by the dream, how much her own mind had tormented her with her memories. Her suspicions had been right, both regarding the nature of her nightmares, and the reasoning behind Edythe's unintelligible words tonight. She understood now why Archie had told her to come; Edythe needed her right now, more than any other family member.

Carine sighed quietly, and pulled Edythe close once more, encasing her in her granite strong embrace. Edythe lay her head against Carine's throat, breathing in her familiar scent. Though her sense of smell was far worse since she had become human, Carine still smelled the same; it was the first scent she had breathed in when she awoke to her immortal life, and it was one she had inhaled daily for over a hundred years. She felt comfort in the similarity, and she felt her body relax again, her fingers twisting through her mother's, holding tightly as if she could hold Carine there by her mere mortal strength. But Carine understood, and hugged her tighter.

"I won't hurt you, Edythe," Carine assured her softly, pressing her lips tenderly to Edythe's temple.

"I know," Edythe said after a moment; and it was true. Her body's response to Carine tonight had one that she could overpower; her mother's instincts and response seemed to have punched through the barrier that Edythe herself could not. She knew beyond what her incoherent mind was telling her.

No, the Carine in the dream was a mere fantasy, a precognition created from her self-conscious to scare her. But she wouldn't let it; not with Carine, not with any of her family members.

She knew who they were, and they would never harm her.

Edythe's body finally fully relaxed in Carine's hands, the first time since Edythe had awoken to her new human life. Carine could not help but feel a swell of elation at the progress; it was a big step, though one that was made necessary by the unfortunately extreme circumstances.

"I know you already know this objectively," she murmured quietly. "But I love you, Edythe, and I would never hurt you, nor would the others. I also know that this has been hard on you—I can't begin to imagine how hard—and I want you to know I'm proud of you. This is a lot of change to take in at once, and you've done amazingly well. And I—we—will help you however you need to get you the rest of the way."

Edythe didn't respond, surprised by her words; she had not expected praise of all things. But Carine continued.

"Making the transition from human to vampire is a big step; doing the opposite, especially after living as a vampire for so long, is astronomically harder. Anyone else may not be able to handle it. But you're doing so well, Edythe. And I'm so happy for you. I don't want these nightmares to plague your nights forever. Just let us know what we can to do to help you."

A blanket of warmth, not unlike Jessamine's gift, enveloped Edythe at Carine's words. She could feel the tenderness, the purity in them, and felt the comfort consume her, wrapping around her and Carine like a second skin. Her mother's gentle words, her soft hands running over Edythe, assuring her of her safety, of her love, allowed Edythe an anchor to hold onto. Of all the years of being with Carine, she remembered how she, as well as the rest of the family, relied on and trusted Carine, both as a mentor and coven leader.

But it become more than that; she had always said that Carine was her mother in every way that mattered, and that had been true at the time. But now it was even more so. Carine was her mother, the person Edythe could depend on to relish in her happiness, to hold her in the sadness, to care for her when she needed her to. Carine had all these capabilities before, and she had employed them whenever warranted, but it was different now. And, as she clung to her mother, a steep wave of indebtedness flowed through Edythe and she realized, not for the first time, how lucky she was to have Carine as her creator and mother. The wave of emotions that passed through Edythe and Carine as they held onto one another seemed to ricochet back and forth between the two, growing stronger with each pass.

Carine let out a sigh of relief as Edythe leaned against her, exhaling deeply like a gigantic boulder had been lifted off her shoulders, a burden she had been carrying for far too long. Carine unconsciously began to rock back and forth, and the soothing motion worked; Edythe's eyes slid shut, her mind and body still exhausted as she always was after a nightmare and the subsequent crying. Her vitals steadied and Carine knew she was asleep.

The vampire could hear the sounds of Charlie's snores across the hall, and noted when Beau had succumbed to sleep. The nocturnal animals made small rustlings noises in the forest and the sound of the chirping night crickets were all there in the back of Carine's mind. But she ignored them, her senses focusing on the warm, even breathing against her neck, the slow steady pounding of the heart against her own chest.

Carine had always wondered how Edythe was able to sit all night and watch Beau sleep; though she found the sentiment endearing, she didn't think she had the passiveness to do so herself. But, as Edythe slept soundly in her arms, she realized that's exactly what she could do for the next several hours, without complaint. Just like laying on a beach relaxing, she could absorb all the senses, the sounds coming from her human daughter as she slept, and created a simply harmony that anchored Carine, making her never want to move, to not break the spell. She felt peace watching Edythe sleep, comforted that she was sleeping soundly, and that hopefully her presence would help her through the nightmares.

The night became a different meaning now, and Carine had no complaints about how she would spend it.