I wondered if I would ever spend a night happier than this one. I doubted it.
As he slept, Beau told me again and again that he loved me. More than the words themselves, the sound of perfect bliss in his tone was all I could ever want. I made him truly happy. Did that not excuse everything else?
Eventually, in the very early morning, he settled into deeper sleep. I knew he wouldn't speak again. After finishing his book—one of my favorites now, too—I'd thought mostly about the day ahead, about Archie's vision of Beau visiting my family. Though I'd seen it clearly in Archie's head, it was hard to believe. Would Beau want that? Did I?
I considered Archie's fairly well-developed friendship with Beau, of which Beau was completely ignorant. Now that I felt assured about the future I was pursuing—and the likelihood of it happening—it did feel a little cruel to keep Archie away from him. What would Beau think of Eleanor? I wasn't one hundred percent sure that she would behave herself. She would find it hilarious to say something off-putting or frightening. Maybe, if I promised her something she wanted... A wrestling match? A football game? There had to be a price she'd accept. I'd already seen how Jessamine would keep her distance, but had Archie thought to tell her that, or was his vision contingent on my action? Of course, Beau had met Carine, but it would be something different now. I found that the idea of Beau spending time with Carine was appealing to me. She was the very best of us. It could only make him think more highly of us all to know her better. And then, Earnest would be ecstatic to meet Beau. The thought of Earnest's pleasure almost had my mind made up.
There was just the one obstacle, really.
Royal.
I realized there was prep work I absolutely had to accomplish before I could even think of bringing Beau home. And that meant leaving him.
I gazed at him now, deep in his dreams. I'd moved to the floor beside his bed when he'd begun his nightly gyrations. I leaned against the edge of the mattress, one hand outstretched, resting on his. I sighed and stood up. It had to be done. He would never know I'd left. But I would miss him for even this short interlude.
I hurried home, hoping to conclude my tasks in the briefest time possible.
Archie had done his part, as usual. Most of the things I wanted to accomplish were just details. Archie knew which were most vital, and sure enough, Royal was waiting on the front porch, perched on the top step of the stairs, as I ran up to the house.
Archie had not told him much. Royal's face was a little confused when I first spotted him, as if he had no idea what he was waiting for. As soon as he caught sight of me, his confusion turned to a scowl.
Oh, what now!
"Roy, please," I called to him. "Can we talk?"
I should have realized Archie was just helping you.
"And himself, a little."
Royal stood up, brushing his jeans off.
"Please, Roy?"
Fine! Fine. Say what you have to say.
I swept my arm out as an invitation. "Come for a walk with me?"
He pursed his lips but nodded. I led the way around the house, to the edge of the night-black river. At first we were silent as we paced north along the bank. There was no sound but the gush of the water.
It was by design I'd chosen this path. I hoped it would remind his of the day I'd been thinking of earlier, the day he'd brought Eleanor home. The first time we'd found common ground.
"Can we get on with this?" he complained.
Though he sounded only irritated, I could hear more in his head. He was nervous. Still afraid that I was angry about his bet? A little ashamed of that, I thought.
"I want to ask you a favor," I told him. "It won't be easy for you, I know."
This was not the direction he'd been expecting. My gentle tone only made him angrier, though.
You want me to be nice to the human, he guessed.
"Yes. You don't have to like him, if you'd rather not. But he's part of my life, and that makes him part of your life, too. I know you didn't ask for this, and you don't want it."
No, I do not, he agreed.
"You didn't ask my permission to bring Eleanor home," I reminded him.
He sniffed derisively. That's different.
"More permanent, certainly."
Royal stopped walking, and I paused with him. He stared at me, surprised and suspicious.
What do you mean by that? Aren't you talking about permanence?
His thoughts were so caught up with these questions, it took me by surprise when he spoke to a different subject.
"Did you feel harmed when I chose Eleanor? Did that injure you in any way?"
"Of course not. You chose very well."
He sniffed again, unimpressed with my flattery.
"Could you give me the chance to prove that I have, too?"
Royal spun away from me, striding north again, breaking a path now through the untamed forest.
I can't look at him. When I look at him, I can't see him as a person. I just see a waste.
Against my intentions, I felt my anger flare. I bit back a growl, and tried to compose myself. Royal glanced over his shoulder and saw the change in my expression. He paused again, swinging around to face me. His features softened.
I am sorry. I don't mean that to sound so cruel. I just can't... I can't watch him do this. "He's got a chance for everything, Edythe," Royal whispered, his whole body rigid with intensity. "A whole life of possibilities ahead of him, and he's going to waste it all. Everything I lost. I can't bear to watch it."
I stared back at him, shaken.
I'd been annoyed by Royal's strange jealousy, which indeed had roots in my preference for Beau. That part was all so petty. But this was something different, so much deeper. I felt that I understood him now for the first time since I'd saved Beau's life.
I reached out carefully to place my hand on his arm, expecting he would shake it off. But he just stood very still.
"I'm not going to let that happen," I promised, matching his intensity.
He examined my face for a long moment. Then he pictured Beau in his mind. It wasn't the perfect representation of Archie's visions, more of a caricature, really. But it was clear what he meant. Beau's skin was white, his eyes bright red. The image was flavored with heavy disgust.
This is not your goal?
I shook my head, just as disgusted. "No. No, I want him to have everything. I won't take anything away from him, Roy. Do you understand? I won't hurt him that way."
He was unsettled now, too. But... how do you see that... working?
I shrugged, feigning a nonchalance I didn't feel. "How long until he grows bored with a seventeen-year-old? Do you think I can keep him interested until he's twenty-three? Maybe twenty-five? Eventually... he'll move on." I tried to control my face, to hide what the words cost me, but he saw through me.
This is a dangerous game you're playing, Edythe.
"I'll find a way to survive. After he goes..." I flinched, my hand falling to my side.
"That's not what I meant," he said. Look, you're not up to my personal standards, but there's not a human woman alive who can compare with you, and you know it.
I shook my head. "Someday he'll want more than I can give him." There was so much I couldn't give him. "You would have wanted more, wouldn't you? If you were in his position, and Eleanor in mine?"
Royal took my question seriously, thinking it through. He imagined Eleanor just as she was now, her easy smile, her hands held out to him. He saw himself human again, still lovely but less remarkable, reaching back to her. Then he imagined his human self turning away from her. Neither image seemed to satisfy him.
But I know what I lost, he thought, his tone subdued. I don't think he'll see it that way. "I'm going to sound like an octogenarian now," he continued aloud, the faintest hint of levity suddenly in his voice. "But... you know kids these days." He smiled weakly. "All about the here and now, no thought for five years into the future, let alone fifty. What will you do when he asks you to change him?"
"I'll tell him why it's wrong. I'll tell him everything he'll lose."
And when he begs?
I hesitated, thinking of Archie's vision of a grieving Beau, his hollow cheeks, his body curled in on itself in agony. What if my presence, and not my absence, were the reason he felt that way? I imagined him full of Royal's bitterness.
"I'll refuse."
Roy heard the iron in my tone, and I could see that he finally understood my resolve. He nodded to himself.
I still think it's too dangerous. I'm not sure you're that strong.
He turned around and started walking slowly back toward the house. I kept pace with him.
"Your life isn't what you wanted," I began quietly. "But in the last seventy years or so, would you say you've had at least five years of pure happiness?"
Flashes of the best parts of his life, all of them revolving around Eleanor, moved through his head, though I could see that, obstinate as ever, he didn't want to agree with me.
I smiled halfheartedly. "Ten years, even?"
He wouldn't answer me.
"Let me have my five years, Royal," I whispered. "I know it can't last. Let me be happy while happiness is possible. Be part of that happiness. Be my brother, and if you can't love my choice the way I love yours, can you at least pretend to tolerate him?"
My words, gentle and quiet, seemed to hit him like bricks. His shoulders were suddenly stiff, brittle.
I'm not sure what I can do. Seeing everything I want... out of my reach... It's too painful.
It would be painful for him, I knew that. But I also knew that his regret and sorrow wouldn't equal even a fraction of the anguish that was waiting for me. Royal's life would go back to what it was now. Eleanor would be there throughout to comfort him. But I... I would lose everything.
"Will you try?" I demanded, my voice sterner than before.
His walk slowed for a few seconds, and his eyes were on his feet. Finally, his shoulders slumped and he nodded. I can try.
"There's a chance... Archie saw Beau coming to the house in the morning."
His eyes flashed up, angry again. I need more time than that.
I held my hands up, placating. "Take the time you need."
It made me sad, and tired, to see that his eyes were suspicious again. Maybe he wasn't strong enough. He seemed to feel the judgment in my gaze. He looked away, then suddenly ran for the house. I let him go.
My other errands did not take so long, nor were they as difficult. Jessamine agreed easily to my request. My father was glowing with happy anticipation. What I'd wanted from Eleanor no longer applied; it was clear she'd be with Royal, and he'd be somewhere far from here.
Well, it was a start. At least I'd gotten Roy to promise to try.
I even took a second to put on fresh clothes. Though the sleeveless shirt Archie had given me long ago had not brought about any of the miseries I'd feared—and had brought some pleasures I hadn't anticipated—I still found it strangely distasteful. I was more comfortable in my usual clothes.
I passed Archie on my way out, leaning up against the pillar at the edge of the porch steps, near where Royal had waited before. His grin was smug. Everything looks perfect for Beau's visit. Just as I'd envisioned.
I wanted to point out that what he saw now was still just a vision, changeable as the first, but why bother?
"You're not taking Beau's desires into account," I reminded him.
He rolled his eyes. When has Beau ever said no to you?
It was an interesting point.
"Archie, I—"
He interrupted, already knowing my question.
See for yourself.
He pictured the intertwined ribbons of Beau's future. Some were solid, some insubstantial, some disappearing into mist. They were more ordered now, no longer snarled into the messy knot. It was a relief that the most nightmarish of futures was entirely missing. But there, in the sturdiest thread, Beau of the bloodred eyes and diamond skin still held the most prominent place. The vision I was looking for was only part of the more nebulous lines, ribbons at the periphery. Beau at twenty, Beau at twenty-five. Flimsy-seeming visions, blurred around the edges.
Archie wrapped his arms tight around his legs. He didn't need to read thoughts or the future to read the frustration in my eyes.
"That's never going to happen."
When have you ever said no to Beau?
I scowled at him on my way down the steps, and then I was running.
Only moments later I was in Beau's room. I put Archie out of my mind and let the calm of his quiet slumber wash over me. It looked as if he hadn't moved at all. And yet, my being away—even briefly—had changed things. I felt... unsure again. Rather than sitting beside his bed as I had before, I found myself back in the old rocking chair. I didn't want to be presumptuous.
Charlie rose not too long after I'd returned, before the first hints of dawn had even begun to light the sky. I felt confident, due to his usual patterns and also his murky but cheerful thoughts, that he was going fishing again. Sure enough, after a quick peek into Beau's room that found him more convincingly asleep than he'd been the night before, he tiptoed downstairs and started rummaging through his fishing gear under the stairs. He left the house just as the clouds outside took on a faint, gray luminosity. Again, I heard the rusty creaking of Beau's truck's hood. I flitted to the window to watch.
Charlie propped the hood on the strut and then replaced the battery cables that he'd left dangling to the sides. It wasn't a particularly difficult problem to solve, but maybe he'd assumed that Beau wouldn't even attempt to fix his truck in the dark. I wondered where he'd imagined he'd want to go.
After a brief moment of loading rods and tackle into the back of his police cruiser, Charlie drove away. I returned to my former place and waited for Beau to wake.
More than an hour later, when the sun was fully up behind the thick blanket of clouds, Beau finally stirred. He threw one of his arms across his face, as if to block the light, then groaned quietly and rolled onto his side, pulling the pillow on top of his head.
Abruptly, he gasped, "Oh!" and lurched dizzily up into a sitting position. His eyes struggled to focus, and it was obvious he was searching for something.
I'd never seen him like this, first thing in the morning. I wondered if his hair always looked this way, or if I'd been responsible for the extraordinary mussing.
"Your hair also has the ability to defy gravity," I informed him, and his eyes snapped to my position. Relief saturated his expression. "It's like your own superpower."
He reached up to pat his hair down. "You stayed."
"Of course," I told him. "That's what you wanted, correct?"
He nodded.
"It's what I wanted, too."
He jumped up from the bed and came towards me. He sank down to his knees in front of me and placed his warm plam on the side of my face. I leaned into his touch and closed my eyes.
Suddenly, Beau bolted upright.
"Charlie?" he asked.
"He left an hour ago—with an amazing amount of gear."
His fingertips wandered across my shoulder, then paused at my collar. He leaned back, staring up at my face with a dismayed expression.
"You left?"
I grinned. "I could hardly leave in the clothes I came in—what would the neighbors think?"
Beau's dissatisfaction only intensified. I didn't want to explain the errands I'd had to run, so I said the one thing I was absolutely sure would distract him.
"You were very deeply asleep—I didn't miss anything. In any case, I was only gone for a few minutes, and you were very deeply asleep at that point, so I know I didn't miss anything."
As anticipated, Beau groaned.
"What did I say?" he demanded.
It was impossible to hold on to my jocular mood. It felt as though my insides were melting into liquid joy as I told him the truth. "You said you loved me."
"You already knew that," he whispered.
"It was different, hearing the words."
He stared down at me. "I love you."
The words hadn't lost their ability to thrill me. On the contrary, they were more overpowering now. It meant much to have him choose to say them, knowing I was listening.
I wanted even stronger words, words that could accurately describe what he had become to me. There was nothing left inside me that wasn't entirely about him. I remembered our first conversation, remembered thinking then that I did not truly have a life. That was no longer the case.
I leaned in and pressed my forehead to his. "You are my life now," I whispered.
Though the sky was still full of thick clouds, the sun buried deep behind them, the room somehow filled with golden light. The air turned clearer, purer than the normal atmosphere.
As I'd thought so often in the past twenty-four hours, I knew I would be totally satisfied with every part of the universe if I never had to move again. The way his body was melted against mine, I thought he must feel the same.
Ah, but I had responsibilities. I needed to keep my unruly joy in check and be practical.
His stomach growled. I sat up laughing.
"Humanity is so overrated," he complained.
"Should we begin with breakfast?" I suggested.
Beau hesitated, perhaps as averse as I was to allowing any space to come between us. Then he twisted his torso away from me, leaning back so I could see his face.
his eyes were round with terror. His mouth fell open and his hands flew up to protect his throat.
I was so horrified by his obvious distress that I couldn't process what was happening. My senses flailed out wildly around us like tentacles, looking for whatever danger threatened.
And then, before I could dive out the window with him in my arms and run for safety, his expression relaxed into a sly smile. I finally understood the connection between my words and his reaction, the joke he was making.
He giggled. "Come on, you know that was funny."
It took me half a second to compose myself. Relief made me feel weak, but the shock also left me agitated. "I disagree." I couldn't help but smile at him. I supposed if vampire jokes were going to become a thing with us, I could bear it. For his sake. "Shall I rephrase? Breakfast time for the human."
While I was willing to accept a future of bad jokes, I wasn't entirely ready to let his off the hook for this one.
He rocked indecisively from his toes to his heels, his eyes flicking from my face to the door and then back again. A few seconds passed while he seemed to struggle with some decision.
"Okay. I need another human minute first, if you don't mind."
"Of course." I was sure I would get better at this.
"Stay."
He'd asked me to stay, and until he told me to go, I would be waiting for him.
This time there was no long delay. I could hear Beau banging cabinets and slamming doors. He was in a rush today as he ran through the shower. I heard the brush tearing through his hair and it made me wince.
It was only a few moments until he reappeared, leaning around the doorframe. He stood with his torso bare, wearing only a towel around his waist. Two high spots of color marked his cheeks, and red flushed his chest. He had forgotten to take clothes to change into.
He hesitated at the doorway. "Um..."
I luaghed at his expression. "Shall we meet in the kitchen, then?"
"Yes, please."
I darted past him down the stairs and waited in the kitchen.
It was only moments later before he jogged down the stairs to join me.
"What's for breakfast?" he asked.
I frowned. I'd not had time to figure out the human food thing. Well, I knew the basics of what it should look like at least, so I could probably improvise...
I hesitated. "I'm not sure. What would you like?" Hopefully something straightforward.
Beau laughed at my confusion and stood up, stretching his arms over his head. "That's all right," he assured me. "I fend for myself pretty well." He raised one eyebrow and added—with an arch smile—"You're allowed to watch me hunt."
It was enlightening and alluring to watch him in his element. I hadn't seen him this confident and at ease before. It was clear he could have located everything he was looking for while wearing a blindfold. First a bowl, and then a box of off-brand Cheerios from a high shelf. Spinning to tug open the fridge while also pulling a spoon from a drawer he then nudged shut with his hip. It was only after he'd assembled everything on the table that he hesitated.
"Um, can I... get you anything?"
I rolled my eyes. "Just eat, Beau."
He took one bite of the inedible-looking slush and chewed quickly, glancing up at me. After he'd swallowed, he asked, "Anything on the agenda today?"
"Maybe." I'd meant to work up to this, but I would be lying to him now if I said I had no ideas. "That depends on whether or not you like my idea."
"I like it," he said automatically as he went on eating.
"Are you open to meeting my family?"
His face blanched. Well, if his answer was no, that was that. I wondered how Archie had gotten it wrong. And then he started choking on the cereal.
I jumped up, one hand stretched out toward him helplessly. He shook his head and waved me back to my seat as he coughed.
"I'm good, I'm good," he said finally.
"Please don't do that to me again, Beau."
"Sorry."
"Maybe we should have this conversation after you're done eating."
"Okay."
When he took the last bite of his breakfast, he pushed the bowl away from him.
"I've finally done it," I said.
"What did you do?"
"Scared you."
He gave me a look and gestured with his hand in a way that said I was stating the obvious.
"I wouldn't let anyone hurt you," I said, smiling halfheartedly. I wasn't trying to convince him. There were a million other things we could do together today that wouldn't make him feel as though his life was on the line. But I wanted him to know that I would always put myself between him and any danger, meteor or monster.
He didn't look convinced.
"No one would try, Beau. That was a joke."
"I don't want to cause you any problems. Do they even know that I know?"
"Oh, they're quite up to date," I said, and the anger was clear in my voice. I tried to smile, but I could tell it didn't soften my tone. "It's not really possible to keep secrets in my house, what with our various parlor tricks. Archie had already seen that your dropping by was a possibility."
For whatever reaon, his face flushed red at what I'd said.
"Just thinking about what Archie might have seen," he explained.
I nodded. "It can feel invasive. But he doesn't do it on purpose. And he sees so many different possibilities... he doesn't know which will happen. For example, he saw over a hundred different ways that yesterday could have gone, and you only survived about seventy-five percent of the scenarios... They'd taken bets, you know, as to whether I would kill you."
"Oh."
"Do you want to know who sided for and against?"
"Um, maybe not. Tell me after I meet them. I don't want to go into this prejudiced."
Beau spoke in his matter-of-fact voice, as though our topic was quite mundane. I was surprised, though, because it sounded very much like he was agreeing to go to meet my family. As if Archie's vision meant there wasn't another choice. "Oh. You'll go, then?"
"It seems like... the respectful thing to do. I don't want them to think I'm shady."
His total acceptance of Archie's word as law touched my rawest nerve. I hated the possibility that even now, I might be ruining Beau's life.
He trusted me, as he always had. I took a deep breath.
I would live up to his trust. I knew I could. When he looked at me that way, there was nothing I couldn't do.
Well, so Archie would be proven right in this one minor, simple prophecy. That was no surprise. I wondered how much of Beau's acceptance was just to please me? Probably the larger portion. There was something closely related that I very much wanted, but I worried that Beau would again agree just for my sake. Well, I could at least share my opinion, and see how he reacted.
I laughed. "Does that mean I get to meet Charlie, too, then? He's already suspicious, and I'd rather not be shady, either."
"I mean, sure, but what should we tell him? I mean, how do I explain...?"
"I doubt he'll struggle too hard with the idea of your having a girlfriend. Though it's a loose interpretation of the word girl, I'll admit."
"Girlfriend..." he repeated. "It sounds... not enough."
I stroked one finger down the side of his face. "Well, I don't know if we need to give him all the gory details, but he will need some explanation for why I'm around here so much. I don't want Chief Swan putting a restraining order on me."
"Will you really be here?" he asked anxiously, ignoring my mild joke.
"As long as you want me." Until he asked me to leave, I was his.
He almost glared at me, so intense was his gaze. "I'll always want you. I'm talking about forever, here."
I heard Archie's certainty again: When have you ever said no to Beau?
I heard Royal's questions: What will you do when he asks you to change his? And when he begs?
Royal was right about one thing, though. When Beau said the word forever, it didn't mean the same thing to his as it meant to me. For him, it meant merely a very long time. It meant he couldn't see the end yet. How could anyone who had lived only seventeen years comprehend what fifty years meant, let alone eternity? He was human, not a frozen immortal. Within just a few years, he would reinvent himself many times over. His priorities would shift as his world grew wider. The things he wanted now wouldn't be the things he wanted then.
I traced his face with my fingertips.
He stared back at me, trying to understand. "Does that make you sad?" he asked.
I didn't know how to answer him. I just watched his face, feeling as if I could see it changing infinitesimally with each passing beat of his heart.
He never looked away. I wondered what he saw in my face. If he thought at all about how it would never change.
The feeling of sand slipping through the neck of an hourglass only intensified. I sighed. There wasn't time to waste.
"Shall we?"
He glanced over at the microwave. "Isn't it a little ear—wait, forget I asked that."
"Forgotten."
"Is this okay?" He gestured to his clothes.
He was wearing the blue sweater he'd worn in Port Angeles. My favorite, I supposed. It looked so good on him. And I liked the way he'd tried to tame his wild hair.
"You look... delicious."
"So you're saying I should change?"
I laughed and shook my head. "Never change, Beau."
Last night, he'd asked me if I was attracted to him as a woman. Though I felt it was so obvious as to be ridiculous, maybe, somehow, he still didn't understand.
Slowly, I stepped toward him. My fingers followed the length the sides of his face, and he leaned in so that his lips, so soft and warm, were just a hair's breadth away from my own.
"Carefully," I reminded him.
Carefully, wary of the power of the alchemy, I touched my lips to his.
While my whole body again overflowed with light and electricity, I waited for his reaction, ready to disengage if things got out of hand. He was more careful this time, holding himself nearly motionless. Even his trembling had stilled.
Moving with what caution I could muster in the face of what I was feeling, I pressed my lips more firmly against his, savoring their soft yield. I was not as much in control of myself as I should have been. I let my lips fall open, wanting to feel his breath in my mouth.
Just at that moment, his legs seemed to give out, and he slid through my arms toward the floor.
I caught him at once, holding him upright. I held up his head with my left hand; it rocked, loose on his neck. His eyes were closed and his lips white.
Had he held his breath for too long?
"Beau? Beau?" I shouted, panicking.
He gasped in a loud breath and his eyelids fluttered.
"Hey..." he sighed with his eyes still half-closed.
He had actually stopped breathing to kiss me. Probably in a misguided attempt to make things less difficult for me.
"What happened? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine... Just kind of forgot to breathe for a minute there. Sorry."
"You forgot to breathe?"
"I was trying to be careful."
"What am I supposed to do with you, Beau?" I half growled. "Yesterday I kiss you, and you attack me! Today you pass out!"
He giggled, choking on his own laughter as his lungs tried to pull in the necessary oxygen.
"Sorry."
I moved in to kiss his forehead. "It's a good thing that it's physically impossible for me to have a heart attack."
"That is good," he agreed.
"I can't take you anywhere like this," I grumbled.
He took another breath, and then straightened in my arms. He blinked fast five times, and lifted his chin into its most stubborn position.
"No, I'm fine, really. Totally back to normal." His voice was stronger, I had to concede. And the color had already come back into his face. "Your family is going to think I'm insane anyway, so what's the difference if I'm a little unsteady?"
"You mean more unsteady than usual?"
I examined him carefully. His breathing had evened out. His heart sounded stronger than it had a moment ago. He seemed to be supporting his own weight without difficulty.
"Sure. Look, I'm trying really hard not to think about what we're going to do now, so it would help if we could get going."
His voice was back to normal strength as well.
So he was worried, not because he was headed to meet a houseful of vampires, but because he thought those vampires wouldn't approve of him. Incredible.
I shook my head and took his hand, pulling him to the door.
I decided it was better to pretend that the driving arrangements were already settled than to ask him about them. I let his lead the way to his truck, and then got in the driver's side. He didn't object in any way; he didn't even glare at me. I felt this was a promising sign.
While I drove, he sat up alertly and stared out his window, watching the houses race past us. I could see that he was nervous, but I also guessed that he was curious. Once it was clear we were not going to stop at any given house, he lost all interest in it and looked to the next. I wondered how he pictured my home.
As we left the town behind us, he seemed to get more apprehensive. He glanced at me a few times, as if he wanted to ask a question, but when he caught me looking at him, he turned back to the window quickly. His toes started tapping against the floor of the truck cab, though I hadn't put the radio on.
When I turned onto the drive, he sat up straighter, and then his knee was bouncing in time with his toes. His fingers pressed so tightly against the window frame that their tips turned white.
As the drive wound on and on, he started to frown. And truly, it did look like we were headed somewhere just as remote and uninhabited as the meadow. The stress mark appeared between his brows.
I reached out and brushed his shoulder, and he gave me a strained smile before turning to the window again.
Finally, the drive broke through the last fringe of the forest and onto the lawn. Still in the shade of the big cedars, it didn't feel like an abrupt change.
It was odd to look at the familiar house and try to imagine how it would appear to new eyes. Earnest had excellent taste, so I knew the house was objectively beautiful. But would Beau see a structure that was trapped in time, that belonged to another era, yet was clearly new and strong? As if we'd traveled backward in time to find it, rather than it aging forward to us?
"Wow," he breathed.
I cut the engine and the following silence strengthened the impression that we could be in another part of history.
"You like it?" I asked.
He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, then looked back to the house. "It's... really something."
I laughed and brushed my fingers through his hair, then slid out of the car. Less than a second passed, and I was holding his door open for him.
"Are you ready?"
"Nope." He laughed, breathless. "Let's do this."
He ran a hand over his hair, attempting to flatten it.
"You look great," I assured him, and took his hand.
His palm was moist, and not as warm as usual. I rubbed the back of his hand with my thumb, trying to communicate without words that he was perfectly safe, and everything would be fine.
He started to slow as we walked up the porch steps, and his hand was trembling.
Hesitating would only prolong his unease. I opened the door, already knowing exactly what was on the other side.
My parents were just where their thoughts had placed them in my mind's eye, and just as Archie had envisioned them. They stood back half a dozen paces from the door, giving Beau some breathing space. Earnest was as nervous as Beau seemed to be, though for him, that meant perfect stillness rather than Beau's agitation. Carine's hand rested on the small of his back in a comforting fashion. She was used to interacting with humans casually, but Earnest was shy. It was rare that he ventured out alone to mix with the mortal world. A true homebody, he was quite happy to let the rest of us bring the world back to him as needed.
Beau's eyes darted around the room, taking it in. He was slightly behind me, as if using my body as a shield. I couldn't help but feel relaxed inside my home, though I knew it was the opposite for him. I squeezed his hand.
Carine smiled warmly at Beau, and Earnest quickly followed suit.
"Carine, Earnest, this is Beau." I wondered whether Beau heard the note of pride in my voice as I introduced him.
Carine moved forward with deliberate slowness. She held out her hand, a little tentative.
"You're very welcome, Beau."
Perhaps because he already knew Carine, Beau seemed suddenly more comfortable. Looking confident, he stepped forward to meet her advance—while not untangling his fingers from mine—and shook her offered hand without even a wince at the chill. Of course, he was surely used to that by now.
"It's nice to see you again, Dr. Cullen," he said, sounding like he really meant it.
Such a brave boy, Earnest thought. Oh, he's darling.
"Please, call me Carine."
Beau beamed. "Carine," he repeated.
Earnest joined Carine then, moving in the same slow, careful way. He placed one hand on Carine's arm, and extended the other. Beau took it without hesitation, smiling at my father.
"It's very nice to know you," Earnest said, affection radiating from his smile.
"Thank you," Beau said. "I'm glad to meet you, too."
Though the words were conventional enough on both sides, they both spoke with such earnestness that the exchange carried a deeper significance.
You two are adorable together, Edythe! Thank you for bringing him to see me!
I could only smile at Earnest's enthusiasm.
"Where are Archie and Jess?" I asked, but it was more of a prompt. I could hear them waiting at the top of the stairs, Archie timing his perfect entrance.
My question seemed to be what he was waiting for. "Hey, Edy's home!" he called as he darted into view. Then he ran—really ran, not in a human way—down the steps and hurtled to a stop just inches from Beau. Carine, Earnest, and I all froze in surprise, but Beau didn't so much as flinch.
"Beau!" He offered his hand, and when Beau tried to shake it, Archie pulled him into a one-armed hug.
"Hey, Archie."
I shot him a warning look, but Archie wasn't paying any attention to me. He was living halfway between this moment and a thousand future moments, exulting in finally getting to begin his friendship. His feelings were very sweet, but I couldn't enjoy them. More than half of his yet-to-be memories featured the white, lifeless Beau, so flawless and so cold.
Archie was oblivious to my reaction, focused on Beau.
"You do smell good," he commented. "I never noticed before."
Beau blushed and all three of them looked away.
I tried to think of a way to ease the awkwardness, but then, like magic, there was no awkwardness. I was perfectly comfortable, and I could feel Beau's tension melt out of his body.
Jessamine followed Archie down the stairs, not racing but not moving cautiously like Carine and Earnest, either. There was no need for her to put on a show. Everything she did seemed natural and right.
In truth, she was laying it on a little thick.
I gave her a sardonic look, and she grinned at me, then stopped by the newel post, leaving what might have felt like an odd distance between herself and the rest of us, but of course it couldn't feel odd if she didn't want it to.
"Hello, Beau."
"Hello, Jessamine." He smiled easily, then looked at Earnest and Carine. "It's nice to meet you all—you have a very beautiful home."
"Thank you," Earnest answered. "We're so glad that you came."
Such a courageous young man.
Beau glanced at the stairs again, expectant. But I knew there would not be any more introductions this morning.
Earnest understood the look as well.
I'm sorry. He wasn't ready. Eleanor's trying to calm him down.
Should I make excuses for Royal? Before I could decide what to say, Carine caught my attention.
Edythe.
I looked at her automatically. Her intensity contrasted with the easy mood Jessamine had created.
Archie saw some visitors. Strangers. At the rate they're moving, they'll find us tomorrow night. I thought you should know immediately.
I nodded once, my lips pressing into a thin line. What miserable timing. Well, I supposed the silver lining was that I was now free to explain to Beau why I was kidnapping him. He would understand. Charlie wouldn't. I'd have to figure out the safest, least disruptive plan. Or rather, we would. He would certainly have opinions.
I looked to Archie for a visual clarification, but he was thinking about the weather.
"Do you play?" Earnest asked, and I glanced over to see that Beau was eyeing my piano.
Beau shook his head. "Not at all. But it's really beautiful. Is it yours?"
Earnest laughed. "No. Edythe didn't tell you she was musical?"
Beau gave me the strangest look, as if this news was irritating. I wondered why. Did he have a yet undiscovered prejudice against pianists?
"Uh, she hasn't mentioned it," he answered Earnest. "But I guess I should have known, right?"
What does he mean, Edythe? Earnest wondered, as if I would know the answer. Luckily, his expression was confused enough to compel Beau to explain.
"Is there anything she's not good at?" Beau clarified.
Carine repressed her amusement, but Jessamine laughed out loud. Archie was watching the conversation that would happen twenty seconds from now; this was old news to him.
Earnest gave me his best disapproving-father look. "I hope you haven't been showing off—it's rude."
"Oh, just a little bit," I admitted, laughing, too.
She looks so happy, Earnest thought. I've never seen her this way. Thank goodness she found him at last.
"Edythe, you should play for him," Earnest encouraged.
I shot my father a betrayed look. "You just said showing off was rude."
Earnest was holding back a laugh of his own. "Make an exception. I'm being selfish. She doesn't play enough, and I love to hear her."
If he's not totally hooked yet, that should do it.
I stared back, deadpan.
"I'd like to hear you play," Beau volunteered.
Fine, if that's what they wanted.
I'd never been self-conscious about my music before—there was never anybody but family or close friends around to hear me, and besides Earnest, most of them barely seemed to notice I was playing. So this was a new feeling. Maybe if Earnest hadn't mentioned showing off before, it wouldn't have felt so forced.
I sat on the bench off-center, gesturing for Beau down to sit beside me. He smiled at me eagerly. I stared back at him, frowning, hoping he recognized that I was only doing this because he'd asked.
I chose Earnest's song—it was a joyful song, a triumphant song, suited to the day's mood.
As I began, I watched Beau's reaction from the corner of my eye. I didn't need to look at the keys, but I didn't want to make him feel scrutinized.
After just the first few measures, his mouth fell open.
Jessamine laughed again; this time Archie joined her. Beau stiffened, but didn't turn. His eyes narrowed, his gaze never leaving my fingers, chasing them as they moved across the keys.
I heard Archie skip to the stairs at the same time that Carine thought, Well, that's probably enough of us for now. We don't want to overwhelm him.
Earnest was disappointed, but he followed Archie upstairs. They would all pretend that this was just a normal day, that it was nothing momentous to have a human inside our house. One by one, they flitted away to the tasks they would have been pursuing if I hadn't brought the mortal home.
Beau was still entirely focused on the motion of my hands, but I thought he was not... as eager as before? His brows were pressing down over his eyes. I didn't understand his expression.
I tried to cheer him, turning my head to catch his attention and winking once. That usually made his smile.
"Do you like it?" I asked.
His head tilted to the side and then something seemed to occur to him. His eyes grew huge again.
"You wrote this." he said, his tone strangely accusatory.
I nodded and added, "It's Earnest's favorite," like an apology, though I wasn't sure what I was trying to excuse.
Beau stared at me, strangely forlorn. His eyes closed, and his head rocked slowly from side to side.
"What's wrong?" I implored.
he opened his eyes and finally smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile.
"I'm just... feeling a little insignificant," he admitted.
I was stunned for a moment. I supposed Earnest's earlier words about showing off were the crux of the matter. His idea that my music would win over whichever corners of Beau's heart remained ambivalent was obviously misguided.
How to explain that all these things I could do, things that came with such ridiculous ease because of what I was, were entirely meaningless? They didn't make me special or superior. How to show him that everything I was had never been enough to make me worthy of him? That he was the lofty goal I'd been trying to reach for so long?
I could only think of one way. I created a simple bridge and shifted into a new song. He watched my expression now, expecting me to respond. I waited until I was through the main structure of the melody, hoping he would recognize it.
"I thought of this one," I murmured, "while I watched you sleeping. It's your song."
Could he feel how this music came from the very core of my being? And that my core, along with everything else I was, centered wholly on him?
For a few moments, I let the notes of the song fill in the spaces that my words never quite could. The melody expanded as I played, drifting away from its former minor key, reaching now for a happier resolution.
I thought I should allay his earlier fears. "They like you quite a bit, you know. Earnest especially." Beau had probably been able to see that himself.
He twisted to peek over his shoulder. "Where did they go?"
"Giving us some privacy. Subtle, aren't they?"
"It's nice that they like me. I like them. But Royal and Eleanor..."
I shook my head impatiently. "Don't worry about Royal. He's always the last to come around."
He pursed his lips, unconvinced. "Eleanor?"
"El thinks I'm a lunatic, it's true." I laughed once. "But she doesn't have a problem with you. She's trying to reason with Royal now."
The corners of his lips pulled down. "What did I do? I mean I've never even spoken to—"
"You didn't do anything, Beau, honestly. Royal struggles the most with what we are," I explained. "It's hard for him to have someone on the outside know the truth. And he's a little jealous."
"Hah!" He looked as though he wasn't sure whether I was joking.
I shrugged. "You're human. He wishes that he were, too."
"Oh."
The sense that everything was perfectly natural and easy had faded as soon as Jessamine had stopped concentrating on us. I imagined he was remembering her introduction without that influence, and seeing for the first time the strangeness of the wide space she had left between them.
"That thing Jessamine does feels really... not strange, I guess. It was kind of incredible."
I laughed. "Words don't fully do it justice, do they?"
"Not really. But... does she like me? She seemed..."
"That was my fault. I told you she was the most recent to try our way of life. I warned her to keep her distance."
"Oh."
"Indeed."
"Carine and Earnest think you're wonderful."
"Huh. I really didn't do anything very exciting. Shook a few hands."
"They're happy to see me happy. Earnest probably wouldn't care if you had a third eye and webbed feet. All this time he's been worrying about me, afraid I was too young when Carine changed me, that there was something missing from my essential makeup. He's so relieved. Every time I touch you, he practically bursts into applause."
He pursed his lips. "Archie's enthusiastic."
I tried to keep my composure, but I heard the edge of ice in my answer. "Archie has his own special perspective on life."
His aspect had been tense for most of our exchange, but suddenly he was grinning.
"What?"
"You're not going to explain what you mean by that, are you?"
Of course he'd noticed all my strange reactions to any mention of Archie; I'd not been very subtle. At least he was smiling now, pleased to catch me out. I was sure he had no idea why I was irritated with Archie. Just letting me know that he knew that I was keeping something from him seemed to be enough for his now. I didn't respond, but I didn't think he was expecting me to.
"Okay."
"Hmm."
"So what was Carine telling you before?" he asked.
I frowned. "You noticed that, did you?" Well, I knew I needed to tell his this.
"Of course."
"She wanted to tell me some news," I admitted. "She didn't know if it was something I would share with you."
He sat up straighter, alert. "Will you?"
"It's probably a good idea. My behavior might be a little... odd for the next few days—or weeks. A little maniacal. So it's best if I explain myself beforehand."
My trivializing did not put him at ease.
"What's wrong?" he demanded.
"Nothing's wrong, exactly. Archie just sees some visitors coming soon. They know we're here, and they're curious."
He repeated my word in a whisper. "Visitors?"
"Yes... like us, but not. Their hunting habits are not like ours, I mean. They probably won't come into town at all, but I won't be letting you out of my sight till they're gone."
"Wow. Shouldn't we... I mean, is there a way to warn people?"
If only... I sighed. "Carine will ask them not to hunt nearby, as a courtesy, and most likely they won't have a problem with that. But we can't do more, for a variety of reasons. They won't be hunting here, but they'll be hunting somewhere. That's just how things are when you live in a world with monsters."
He shuddered so hard I could feel the motion in the bench beneath us.
"Finally, a rational response!" I muttered. I thought of all the horrifying things he'd accepted about me without a tremor. Only other vampires were scary, apparently. "I was beginning to think you had no sense of self-preservation at all."
He ignored that, and started to watch my hands moving over the keys again. After a few seconds, he took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Had he processed another waking nightmare so easily?
It seemed so. He examined the room now, his head turning slowly as he scrutinized my home. I could imagine what he was thinking.
"Not what you expected, is it?" I guessed.
He was still cataloguing with his eyes. "No."
I wondered what had surprised him most: the light colors, the vast openness of the space, the wall of windows? It was all very carefully designed—by Earnest—not to feel like some kind of fortress or asylum.
I could hazard what a normal human would have predicted. "No coffins, no piled skulls in the corners; I don't even think we have cobwebs... what a disappointment this must be for you."
He didn't react to my joke. "I didn't expect it to be so light and so... open."
"It's the one place we never have to hide."
While I'd been focused on him, the song I was playing had strayed back to its roots. I found myself in the middle of the bleakest moment—the moment when the obvious truth was unavoidable: Beau was perfect as he was. Any interference from my world was a tragedy.
It was too late to save the song. I let it end as it had before, with that heartbreak.
Sometimes it was so easy to believe that Beau and I were right together. In the moment, when impulsivity led, and everything came so naturally... I could believe. But whenever I looked at it logically, without allowing emotion to trump reason, it was clear that I could only hurt him.
"Thank you," he whispered.
He looked genuinely sad. He was moved; the music I'd created for him had touched him. I wondered how much of this unspoken language he had understood.
"Would you like to see the rest of the house?" I offered.
"Will there be piled skulls in any corners?" he double-checked.
I laughed and stood, pulling him up from the piano bench. "Sorry to dissapoint."
"Well, okay, but my expectations are pretty low now."
I led him upstairs to the second floor; he'd seen most of the first, all but the unused kitchen and the dining room were visible from the front door. As we climbed, his interest was evident. He studied everything—the railing, the pale wood floors, the picture-frame paneling that lined the hallway at the top. It was like he was preparing for an exam. I named the owner of each room we passed, and he nodded after each designation, ready for the quiz.
I was about to round the corner and follow the next flight of stairs up, but Beau stopped suddenly. I looked to see what he was staring at so bemusedly. Ah.
"Ironic, I know."
He didn't laugh. He stretched out his hand as if he wished to touch the thick oak cross that hung there, dark and somber against the lighter wood behind it, but his fingertips didn't make contact.
"It must be very old," Beau murmured.
I shrugged. "Early sixteen thirties, more or less."
He stared up at me, his head tilted to one side. "Why do you have this here?"
"Nostalgia. It belonged to Carine's father."
"He collected antiques?" he suggested, sounding as if he already knew his guess was wrong.
"No," I answered. "He carved this himself. It hung on the wall above the pulpit in the vicarage where he preached."
Beau looked up at the cross, his stare intense. He didn't move for so long that I started to get anxious again.
"Are you all right?" I murmured.
"How old is Carine?" he shot back.
I sighed, trying to quell the old panic. Would this story be the one that would be too much? I scrutinized every minute muscle twitch in his face as I explained.
"She just celebrated her three hundred and sixty-second birthday." Or close enough. Carine had chosen a day for Earnest's sake, but it was only her best guess. "Carine was born in London, in the sixteen forties, she believes. Time wasn't marked as accurately then, for the common people anyway. It was just before Cromwell's rule, though. She was the only daughter of an Anglican pastor. Her mother died in childbirth. Her father was a hard man. He believed very strongly in the reality of evil. He led hunts for witches, werewolves... and vampires."
He'd been keeping up a good charade for the most part, almost as if he were dissociating from the facts. But when I spoke the word vampires, his shoulders stiffened and he held his breath for an extra second.
"They burned a lot of innocent people. Of course the real creatures that she sought were not so easy to catch." This still haunted Carine—the innocents her father had murdered. And even more, those murders Carine had been unwillingly involved in. I was glad for her sake that the memories were blurred and always fading more.
I knew the stories of Carine's human years as well as I knew my own. As I described her father's ill-fated discovery of an ancient London coven, I wondered if this would sound real to him at all. This was irrelevant history, set in a country he'd never seen, separated from his own existence by so many years that he had no context for it.
He seemed spellbound, though, as I described Carine's father's attack on the coven that led to its leader coming to their home to enact his revenge. I left out all the details I didn't want him to know. The vampire had intentionally just barely slashed Carine with his venom-covered teeth: once slice across the palm of her hand. The vampire killed her father while she watched, as well as all of those other men involved that night. It was not self-preservation from the mob, of course; those fifty men with their crude weapons were no more dangerous to her than a kaleidoscope of butterflies. However, the Volturi were less than a thousand miles away. Their laws had been established for a millennium by this point, and their demand that every immortal exercise discretion for the benefit of all was universally accepted. The story of a vampire sighting in London, attested to by fifty witnesses, would not have gone over well in Volterra.
The nature of Carine's wound was the worst-case scenario. The gash in her hand was far from any major vessels. This meant a much slower spread of the venom, and a longer transition period. As the conversion from mortal to immortal was the most painful thing any of us had ever experienced, an extended version was not ideal, to say the least.
I'd known the pain of that same extended version. Carine had been... unsure when she decided to change me into her first companion. She'd spent a great deal of time with other, more experienced vampires—the Volturi included—and she knew that a better placed bite would result in a quicker conversion. However, she'd never found another vampire like herself. All the others were obsessed with blood and power. No one else craved a kinder, more familial life as she did. She wondered whether her slow conversion and the weak entry point of her infection had been somehow responsible for the difference. So when creating her first daughter, she chose to imitate her own wounds. She'd always felt bad about that, especially as she later found that the method of conversion actually had no bearing on the personality and desires of the new immortal.
She hadn't had time to experiment when she found Earnest. He was much closer to death than I had been. To save him, it had been imperative to get as much venom into his system as close to his heart as possible. All in all, a much more frenzied effort than it had been with me—and yet Earnest was the gentlest of us all.
And Carine the strongest. I now told Beau what I could about her extraordinarily disciplined conversion. I found myself editing things that perhaps I shouldn't have, but I didn't want to dwell on Carine's excruciating pain. Maybe, given his obvious curiosity about the process, it would have been a good thing to describe; perhaps it would have deterred him from wanting to know more.
"It was over then," I explained, "and she realized what she had become."
All the while, lost in my own thoughts as I told the familiar tale, I'd been observing his reactions. For the most part, he kept the same expression fixed on his face; I think he meant it to look like attentive interest, totally devoid of any unnecessary emotional recoils. However, he held himself too stiffly for his ploy to be believable. His curiosity was real, but I wanted to know what he really thought, not what he wanted me to think he thought.
"How are you feeling?" I asked.
"I'm good," he answered automatically. But his mask slipped a little bit. Still, all I could read on his face was a desire to know more. So this story hadn't been enough to frighten him away. "What happened next?"
I smiled back. "Come on, then, I'll show you."