I went back to school. This was the right thing to do, the most inconspicuous way to behave.
By the end of the day, almost all the other students had returned to class, too. Just Taylor and Beau and a few others—who were probably using the accident as a chance to ditch—remained absent.
It shouldn't have been so hard for me to do the right thing. But all afternoon, I was gritting my teeth against the urge that had me yearning to ditch, too—in order to go find the boy again.
Like a stalker. An obsessed stalker. An obsessed vampire stalker.
School today was—somehow, impossibly—even more boring than it had seemed just a week ago. Coma-like. It was as if the color had drained from the bricks, the trees, the sky, the faces around me... I stared at the cracks in the walls.
There was another right thing I should be doing... that I was not. Of course, it was also a wrong thing. It all depended on one's perspective.
From the perspective of a Cullen—not just a vampire, but a Cullen, someone who belonged to a family, such a rare state in our world—the right thing would have gone something like this:
"I'm surprised to see you in class, Edythe. I heard you were involved in that awful accident this morning."
"Yes, I was, Mrs. Banner, but I was the lucky one." A friendly smile. "I didn't get hurt at all. I wish I could say the same for Taylor and Beau."
"How are they?"
"I think Taylor is fine... just some superficial scrapes from the windshield glass. I'm not sure about Beau, though." A worried frown. "He might have a concussion. I heard he was pretty incoherent for a while—seeing things, even. I know the doctors were worried..."
That's how it should have gone. That's what I owed my family.
"I'm surprised to see you in class, Edythe. I heard you were involved in that awful accident this morning."
No smile. "I wasn't hurt."
Mrs. Banner shifted her weight from foot to foot, uncomfortable.
"Do you have any idea how Taylor Crowley and Beau Swan are? I heard there were some injuries..."
I shrugged. "I wouldn't know."
Mrs. Banner cleared her throat. "Er, right...," she said, my cold stare making her voice sound a bit strained.
She walked quickly back to the front of the classroom and began her lecture.
It was the wrong thing to do. Unless you looked at it from a more obscure point of view.
It just seemed so... so unchivalrous to slander the boy behind his back, especially when he was proving more trustworthy than I could have dreamed. He hadn't said anything to betray me, despite having good reason to do so. Would I betray him when he had done nothing but keep my secret?
I had a nearly identical conversation with Mr. Goff—just in Spanish rather than in English—and Eleanor gave me a long look.
I hope you have a good explanation for what happened today. Roy is on the warpath.
I rolled my eyes without looking at her.
I actually had come up with a perfectly sound explanation. Just suppose I hadn't done anything to stop the van from crushing the boy. I recoiled from that thought. But if he had been hit, if he'd been mangled and bleeding, the red fluid spilling, wasting on the blacktop, the scent of the fresh blood pulsing through the air...
I shuddered again, but not just in horror. Part of me shivered in desire. No, I would not have been able to watch him bleed without exposing us all in a much more flagrant and shocking way.
It was a perfectly sound excuse... but I wouldn't use it. It was too shameful.
And I hadn't thought of it until long after the fact, regardless.
Look out for Jessamine, Eleanor went on, oblivious to my reverie. She's not as angry... but she's more resolved.
I saw what she meant, and for a moment the room swam around me. The flash of rage was so all-consuming that a red haze clouded my vision. I thought I would choke on it.
EDYTHE! GET A GRIP! Eleanor shouted at me in her head. Her hand came down on my shoulder, holding me in my seat before I could jump to my feet. She rarely used her full strength—there was almost never a need, for she was so much stronger than any vampire we'd ever encountered—but she used it now. She gripped my arm, rather than pushing me down. If she'd been pushing, the chair under me would have collapsed.
EASY! she ordered.
I tried to calm myself, but it was hard. The rage burned in my head.
Jessamine's not going to do anything until we all talk. I just thought you should know the direction she's headed.
I concentrated on relaxing and felt Eleanor's hand loosen.
Try not to make more of a spectacle of yourself. You're in enough trouble as it is.
I took a deep breath and Eleanor released me.
I searched around the room routinely, but our confrontation had been so short and silent that only a few people sitting behind Eleanor had even noticed. None of them knew what to make of it, and they shrugged it off. The Cullens were freaks—everyone knew that already.
Damn, girl, you're a mess, Eleanor added, sympathy in her tone.
"Bite me," I muttered under my breath, and I heard her low chuckle.
Eleanor didn't hold grudges, and I probably ought to have been more grateful for her easygoing acceptance. But I could see that Jessamine's intentions made sense to her, that she was considering how it might be the best course of action.
The rage simmered, barely under control. Yes, Eleanor was stronger than I was, but she'd yet to beat me in a wrestling match. She claimed that this was because I cheated, but hearing thoughts was just as much a part of who I was as her immense strength was a part of her. We were evenly matched in a fight.
A fight? Was that where this was headed? Was I going to fight with my family over a human I barely knew?
I thought about that for a moment, thought about the fragile feel of the boy's body in my arms in juxtaposition with Jessamine, Roy, and Eleanor—supernaturally strong and fast, killing machines by nature.
Yes, I would fight for him. Against my family. I shuddered.
But it wasn't fair to leave him undefended when I was the one who'd put him in danger!
I couldn't win alone, though, not against the three of them, and I wondered who my allies would be.
Carine, certainly. She would not fight anyone, but she would be wholly against Roy's and Jessamine's designs. That might be all I needed.
Earnest, doubtful. He would not side against me, either, and he would hate to disagree with Carine, but he would be for any plan that kept his family intact. His first priority would not be what was right, but me. If Carine was the soul of our family, then Earnest was the heart. She gave us a leader who deserved following; he made that following into an act of love. We all loved each other—even under the fury I felt toward Jessamine and Roy right now, even planning to fight them to save the boy, I knew that I loved them.
Archie... I had no idea. It would probably depend on what he saw coming. He would side with the winner, I imagined.
So I would have to do this without help. I wasn't a match for them alone, but I wasn't going to let the boy be hurt because of me. That might mean evasive action.
My rage dulled a bit with the sudden black humor. I tried to imagine how the boy would react to my kidnapping him. Of course, I rarely guessed his reactions right—but what other response could he have besides terror?
I wasn't sure how to manage that, though—kidnapping him. I wouldn't be able to stand being close to him for very long. Perhaps I would just deliver him back to his mother. Even that much would be fraught with danger. For him.
And also for me, I realized suddenly. If I were to kill him by accident... I wasn't certain exactly how much pain that would cause me, but I knew it would be multifaceted and intense.
The time passed quickly while I mulled over all the complications ahead of me: the argument waiting for me at home, the conflict with my family, the lengths I might be forced to go to afterward.
Well, I couldn't complain that life outside this school was monotonous. The boy had changed that much.
Eleanor and I walked silently to the car when the bell rang. She was worrying about me and worrying about Royal. She knew she would have no choice when it came time to pick sides, and it bothered her.
The others were waiting for us in the car, also silent. We were a very quiet group. Only I could hear the shouting.
You stupid, idiotic, selfish, irresponsible fool! Royal kept up a constant stream of insults at the top of his mental lungs. It made it hard to hear the others, but I ignored him as best I could.
Eleanor was right about Jessamine. She was sure of her course.
Archie was troubled, worrying about Jessamine, flipping through images of the future. No matter which direction Jessamine came at the boy, Archie always saw me there, blocking her. Interesting... neither Royal nor Eleanor was with her in these visions. So Jessamine planned to work alone. That would even things up.
Jessamine was the best, certainly the most experienced fighter among us. My one advantage lay in that I could hear her moves before she made them.
I had never fought more than playfully with my sisters—just horsing around. I felt sick at the thought of really trying to hurt Jessamine.
No, not that. Just to block her. That was all.
I concentrated on Archie, memorizing Jessamine's different avenues of attack.
As I did that, his visions shifted, moving farther and farther away from the Swans' house. I was cutting her off earlier.
Stop that, Edythe! he snapped. It can't happen this way. I won't let it.
I didn't answer him, I just kept watching.
He began searching further ahead, into the misty, unsure realm of distant possibilities. Everything was shadowy and vague.
The entire way home, the charged silence did not lift. I parked in the big garage off the house. Carine's Mercedes was there, next to Eleanor's big Jeep, Roy's M3, and my Vanquish. I was glad Carine was already home—this silence could end explosively, and I wanted her there when that happened.
We went straight to the dining room.
The room was, of course, never used for its intended purpose. But it was furnished with a long, oval mahogany table surrounded by chairs—we were scrupulous about having all the correct props in place. Carine liked to use it as a conference room. In a group with such strong and disparate personalities, sometimes it was necessary to discuss things in a calm, seated manner.
I had a feeling that the setting was not going to help much today.
Carine sat in her usual spot at the eastern head of the room. Earnest was beside her—they held hands on top of the table.
Earnest's eyes were on me, their golden depths full of concern.
Stay. It was his only thought. He had no idea of what was about to start; he was just worried about me.
I wished I could smile at the man who was truly a father to me, but I had no reassurances for him now.
I sat on Carine's other side.
Carine had a better sense of what was coming. Her lips were pressed tightly together and her forehead was creased. The expression looked too old for her young face.
As everyone else sat, I could see the lines being drawn.
Royal sat directly across from Carine, at the other end of the long table. He glared at me, never looking away.
Eleanor sat beside him, her face and thoughts both wry.
Jessamine hesitated, and then went to stand against the wall behind Royal. She was decided, regardless of the outcome of this discussion. My teeth locked together.
Archie was the last to come in, and his eyes were focused on something far away—the future, still too indistinct for him to make use of it. Without seeming to think about it, he sat next to Earnest. He rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache. Jessamine twitched uneasily and considered joining him, but she kept her place.
I took a deep breath. I had started this—I should speak first.
"I'm sorry," I said, looking first at Roy, then Jessamine, and then Eleanor. "I didn't mean to put any of you at risk. It was thoughtless, and I take full responsibility for my hasty action."
Royal glared at me balefully. "What do you mean, 'take full responsibility'? Are you going to fix it?"
"Not the way you mean," I said, working to keep my voice even and quiet. "I was already planning to leave before this happened. I'll go now..." If I believe that the boy will be safe, I amended in my head. If I believe that none of you will touch him. "The situation will resolve itself."
"No," Earnest murmured. "No, Edythe."
I patted his hand. "It's just a few years."
"Earnest's right, though," Eleanor said. "You can't go anywhere. That would be the opposite of helpful. We have to know what people are thinking, now more than ever."
"Archie will catch anything major," I disagreed.
Carine shook her head. "I think Eleanor is right, Edythe. The boy will be more likely to talk if you disappear. It's all of us leave, or none of us."
"He won't say anything," I insisted quickly. Roy was building up to the explosion, and I wanted this fact out there first.
"You don't know his mind," Carine reminded me.
"I know this much. Archie, back me up."
Archie stared up at me wearily. "I can't see what will happen if we just ignore this." He glanced at Roy and Jessamine.
No, he couldn't see that future—not when Royal and Jessamine were so decided against ignoring the incident.
Royal's palm smacked down on the table with a loud bang. "We can't allow the human a chance to say anything. Carine, you must see that. Even if we decided to all disappear, it's not safe to leave stories behind us. We live so differently from the rest of our kind—you know there are those who would love an excuse to point fingers. We have to be more careful than anyone else!"
"We've left rumors behind us before," I reminded him.
"Just rumors and suspicions, Edythe. Not eyewitnesses and evidence!"
"Evidence!" I scoffed.
But Jessamine was nodding, her eyes hard.
"Roy—" Carine began.
"Let me finish, Carine. It doesn't have to be any big production. The boy hit his head today. So maybe that injury turns out to be more serious than it looked." Royal shrugged. "Every mortal goes to sleep with the chance of never waking up. The others would expect us to clean up after ourselves. Technically, that would make it Edythe's job, but this is obviously beyond her. You know I'm capable of control. I would leave no evidence behind me."
"Yes, Royal, we all know how proficient an assassin you are," I snarled.
He hissed at me, momentarily beyond words. If only that could last.
"Edythe, please," Carine said. Then she turned to Royal. "Royal, I looked the other way in Rochester because I felt that you were owed your justice. The men you killed had wronged you monstrously. This is not the same situation. The Swan boy is entirely innocent."
"It's not personal, Carine," Royal said through his teeth. "It's to protect us all."
There was a brief moment of silence while Carine thought through her answer. When she nodded, Royal's eyes lit up. He should have known better. Even if I hadn't been able to read her thoughts, I could have anticipated her next words. Carine never compromised.
"I know you mean well, Royal, but... I'd like very much for our family to be worth protecting. The occasional... accident or lapse in control is a regrettable part of what we are." It was very like her to include herself in the plural, though she had never had such a lapse herself. "To murder a blameless child in cold blood is another thing entirely. I believe the risk he presents, whether he speaks his suspicions or not, is nothing to the greater risk. If we make exceptions to protect ourselves, we risk something much more important. We risk losing the essence of who we are."
I controlled my expression very carefully. It wouldn't do at all to grin. Or to applaud, as I wished I could.
Royal scowled. "It's just being responsible."
"It's being callous," Carine corrected gently. "Every life is precious."
Royal sighed heavily and his lower lip pouted out. Eleanor patted his shoulder. "It'll be fine, Roy," she encouraged in a low voice.
"The question," Carine continued, "is whether we should move on."
"No," Royal moaned. "We just got settled. I don't want to start on my sophomore year in high school again!"
"You could keep your present age, of course," Carine said.
"And have to move again that much sooner?" he countered.
Carine shrugged.
"I like it here! There's so little sun, we get to be almost normal."
"Well, we certainly don't have to decide now. We can wait and see if it becomes necessary. Edythe seems certain of the Swan boy's silence."
Royal snorted.
But I was no longer worried about Roy. I could see that he would go along with Carine's decision, no matter how infuriated he was with me. Their conversation had moved on to unimportant details.
Jessamine remained unmoved.
I understood why. Before she and Archie had met, she'd lived in a combat zone, a relentless theater of war. She knew the consequences of flouting the rules—she'd seen the grisly aftermath with her own eyes.
It said much that she had not tried to calm Royal down with her extra faculties, nor did she now try to rile him up. She was holding herself aloof from this discussion—above it.
"Jessamine," I said.
She met my gaze, her face expressionless.
"He won't pay for my mistake. I won't allow that."
"He benefits from it, then? He should have died today, Edythe. I would only set that right."
I repeated myself, emphasizing each word. "I will not allow it."
Her eyebrows shot up. She wasn't expecting this—she hadn't imagined that I would act to stop her.
She shook her head once. "And I will not let Archie live in danger, even a slight danger. You don't feel about anyone the way I feel about him, Edythe, and you haven't lived through what I've lived through, whether you've seen my memories or not. You don't understand."
"I'm not disputing that, Jessamine. But I'm telling you now, I won't allow you to hurt Beaufort Swan."
We stared at each other—not glaring, but measuring the opposition. I felt her sample the mood around me, testing my determination.
"Jess," Archie said, interrupting us.
She held my gaze for a moment more, and then looked at him. "Don't bother telling me you can protect yourself, Archie. I already know that. It doesn't change—"
"That's not what I'm going say," Archie interrupted. "I was going to ask you for a favor."
I saw what was on his mind, and my mouth fell open with an audible gasp. I stared at him, shocked, only vaguely aware that everyone besides Archie and Jessamine was now eyeing me warily.
"I know you love me. Thanks. But I would really appreciate it if you didn't try to kill Beau. First of all, Edythe's quite serious and I don't want you two fighting. Secondly, he's my friend. At least, he's going to be."
It was clear as glass in his head: Archie, smiling, with his icy white arm around the boy's warm, fragile shoulders. And Beau was smiling, too, his arm around Archie.
The vision was rock solid; only the timing of it was unsure.
"But... Archie...," Jessamine gasped. I couldn't manage to turn my head to see her expression. I couldn't tear myself away from the image in Archie's vision in order to hear her thoughts.
"I'm going to love him someday, Jess. I'll be very put out with you if you don't let him be."
I was still locked into Archie's thoughts. I saw the future shimmer as Jessamine's resolve floundered in the face of his unexpected request.
"Ah," he sighed—her indecision had cleared a new future. "See? Beau's not going to say anything. There's nothing to worry about."
The way he said the boy's name... like they were already close confidants.
"Archie," I choked. "What... does this...?"
"I told you there was a change coming. I don't know, Edythe." But he locked his jaw, and I could see that there was more. He was trying not to think about it. He was focusing very hard on Jessamine suddenly, though she was too stunned to have progressed much in her decision-making.
He did this sometimes when he was trying to keep something from me.
"What, Archie? What are you hiding?"
I heard Eleanor grumble. She always got frustrated when Archie and I had these kinds of conversations.
He shook his head, trying not to let me in.
"Is it about the boy?" I demanded. "Is it about Beau?"
He had his teeth gritted in concentration, but when I spoke Beau's name, he slipped. His slip only lasted the tiniest portion of a second, but that was long enough.
"NO!" I shouted. I heard my chair hit the floor, and only then realized I was on my feet.
"Edythe!" Carine was on her feet, too, gripping my shoulder. I was barely aware of her.
"It's solidifying," Archie whispered. "Every minute you're more decided. There are really only two ways left for him. It's one or the other, Edythe."
I could see what he saw... but I could not accept it.
"No," I said again. There was no volume to my denial. My legs felt hollow, and I had to brace myself against the table. Carine's hand fell away.
"That is so annoying," Eleanor complained.
"I have to leave," I whispered to Archie, ignoring her.
"Edythe, we've already been over that," Eleanor said loudly. "That's the best way to start the boy talking. Besides, if you take off, we won't know for sure if he's talking or not. You have to stay and deal with this."
"I don't see you going anywhere, Edythe," Archie told me. "I don't know if you can leave anymore." Think about it, he added silently. Think about leaving.
I understood what he meant. Yes, the idea of never seeing the boy again was... painful. I'd already felt that in the hospital hallway where I'd given his such a harsh farewell. But now leaving was even more necessary. I couldn't sanction either future I'd apparently condemned him to.
I'm not entirely sure of Jessamine, Edythe, Archie went on. If you leave, if she thinks he's a danger to us...
"I don't hear that," I contradicted him, still only halfway aware of our audience. Jessamine was wavering. She would not do something that would hurt Archie.
Not right this moment. Will you risk his life, leave him undefended?
"Why are you doing this to me?" I groaned. My head fell into my hands.
I was not Beau's protector. I could not be that. Wasn't Archie's divided future enough proof of that?
I love him, too. Or I will. It's not the same, but I want him around for that.
"Love him, too?" I whispered, incredulous.
He sighed. You are so blind, Edythe. Can't you see where you're headed? Can't you see where you already are? It's more inevitable than the sun rising tomorrow morning. See what I see...
I shook my head, horrified. "No." I tried to shut out the visions he revealed to me. "I don't have to follow that course. I'll leave. I will change the future."
"You can try," he said, his voice skeptical.
"Oh, come on!" Eleanor bellowed.
"Pay attention," Roy hissed at her. "Archie sees her falling for a human! How classically Edythe!" He made a gagging sound.
I scarcely heard him.
"What?" Eleanor said, startled. Then her booming laugh echoed through the room. "Is that what's been going on?" She laughed again. "Tough break, Edythe."
I felt her hand touch my arm, but I shook it off absently. I couldn't pay attention to her.
"Fall for a human?" Earnest repeated in a stunned voice. "For the boy she saved today? Fall in love with him?"
"What do you see, Archie? Exactly," Jessamine demanded.
He turned toward her. I continued to stare numbly at the side of his face.
"It all depends on whether she is strong enough. Either she'll kill him herself"—he turned to meet my gaze again, glaring—"which would really irritate me, Edythe, not to mention what it would do to you—" he faced Jessamine again. "Or he'll be one of us someday."
Someone gasped; I didn't look to see who.
"That's not going to happen!" I was shouting again. "Either one!"
Archie spoke as if he hadn't heard me. "It all depends," he repeated. "She may be just strong enough not to kill him—but it will be close. It will take an amazing amount of control," he mused. "More, even, than Carine has. The only thing she's not strong enough to do is stay away from him. That's a lost cause."
I couldn't find my voice. No one else seemed to be able to, either. The room was still.
I stared at Archie, and everyone else stared at me. I could see my own horrified expression from five different viewpoints.
After a long moment, Carine sighed. "Well, this... complicates things."
"I'll say," Eleanor agreed. Her voice was still close to laughter. Trust Eleanor to find the joke in the destruction of my life.
"I suppose the plans remain the same, though," Carine said thoughtfully. "We'll stay, and watch. Obviously, no one will... hurt the boy."
I stiffened.
"No," Jessamine said quietly. "I can agree to that. If Archie sees only two ways—"
"No!" My voice was not a shout or a growl or a cry of despair, but some combination of the three. "No!"
I had to leave, to be away from the noise of their thoughts—Royal's self-righteous disgust, Eleanor's humor, Carine's never-ending patience...
Worse: Archie's confidence. Jessamine's confidence in that confidence.
Worst of all: Earnest's... joy.
I stalked out of the room. Earnest reached for my hand as I passed, but I didn't acknowledge the gesture.
I was running before I was out of the house. I cleared the lawn and river in one bound and raced into the forest. The rain was back again, falling so heavily that I was drenched in a few seconds. I liked the thick sheet of water—it made a wall between me and the rest of the world. It closed me in, let me be alone.
I ran due east, over and through the mountains without breaking my straight course, until I could see a hazy hint of Seattle lights on the other side of the sound. I stopped before I touched the borders of human civilization.
Shut in by the rain, all alone, I finally made myself look at what I had done—at the way I had mutilated the future.
First, the vision of Archie and the boy with their arms around each other, walking together in the forest near the high school—the trust and friendship was so obvious it sang out from the image. Beau's wide blue eyes were not confused in this vision, but still full of secrets—in this moment, they seemed to be happy secrets. He did not flinch away from Archie's cold arm.
What did it mean? How much did he know? In that still-life moment from the future, what did he think of me?
Then the other image, so much the same, yet now colored by horror. Archie and Beau on the front porch of my house, sitting together in trusting friendship. But now there was no difference between them—Beau's skin was white, smooth as marble, hard as steel. His eyes were no longer the color of sapphires. The irises were a shocking, vivid crimson. The secrets in them were unfathomable—acceptance or desolation? It was impossible to tell. His face was cold and immortal.
I shuddered. I could not suppress the questions, similar, but different: What did it mean—how had this come about? And what did he think of me now?
I could answer that last one. If I forced him into this empty half life through my weakness and selfishness, surely he would hate me.
But there was one even more horrifying image—worse than any I'd ever held inside my head.
My own eyes, deep crimson with human blood, the eyes of the monster. Beau's broken body in my arms, ashy white, drained, lifeless. It was so concrete, so clear.
I couldn't stand to see this. Could not bear it. I tried to banish it from my mind, tried to see something, anything else. Tried to see again the expression on his living face that had obstructed my view for the last chapter of my existence. All to no avail.
Archie's bleak vision filled my head, and I writhed internally with the agony it caused. Meanwhile, the monster in me was overflowing with glee, jubilant at the likelihood of her success. It sickened me.
This could not be allowed. There had to be a way to circumvent the future. I would not let Archie's visions direct me. I could choose a different path. There was always a choice.
There had to be.