The time always went so quickly. Soon Beau would need to eat another meal, and currently there was no food at all in my house; I planned to rectify that in the near future. Time to return to the human world. As long as we were together, it was not a burden but a joy.
So a meal, a little while to soak up his nearness, and then I'd have to leave him. I expected he would want to talk to Charlie alone before my introduction. But as soon as I turned onto his street, it was clear that my expectations for the afternoon were thwarted.
A 1987 Ford Tempo that had seen better days was parked in Charlie's usual spot. And under the meager protection of the porch roof, a girl stood behind a woman in wheelchair.
Beau beat him home, the old woman thought. That's unfortunate.
Hey, it's Beau! The girl's thoughts were much more enthusiastic.
I could think of only one reason that Bonnie Black would be unhappy to see Beau arrive before his father. And that reason involved a broken treaty. I would have confirmation soon enough; Bonnie hadn't seen me yet.
"Has she forgotten who the treaty actually protects?" I hissed.
Beau glanced up at me, confused, though I doubted I'd spoken slowly enough for my words to be intelligible.
Julie saw me in the driver's seat just a second before Bonnie did.
Her again. So he must be dating her. Her enthusiasm vanished.
NO! Bonnie's thought was a shout, and then a mental groan. No.
I heard her half-articulated fears—should she tell her daughter to run? Was it already too late?—and then her guilt.
How did it know?
I saw that I was right, that this visit was no innocent social call.
Parking the truck against the curb, I locked eyes with the frightened woman.
"This is crossing the line." I enunciated clearly this time. I hoped she could read my lips.
Beau understood immediately. "She came to warn Charlie?" He sounded horrified by the idea.
I nodded, not breaking away from Bonnie's stare. After a second more, she looked down.
"Let me deal with this," Beau suggested.
As much as I would have loved to get out of the truck and stalk up to the helpless duo—to lean over them, intimidating, close enough that all the little signs of what I was would feel like they were screaming at the old woman, to bare my teeth and snarl a warning in a voice that would sound anything but human, to watch her hair stand on end and hear her heart splutter with panic—I knew it was a bad idea. For one thing, Carine wouldn't like it. For another, though the girl was well aware of the legends, she would never believe them. Unless I got in their faces and flaunted my less human side.
"That's probably best," I agreed. "Be careful, though. The child has no idea."
Annoyance flashed suddenly across his face. I was confused until he spoke.
"Child? You know, Jules is not that much younger than I am."
It was the word child that had offended him.
"Oh, I know," I teased.
Beau sighed and reached for the door handle, no happier about separating than I was.
"Get them inside so I can leave. I'll be back around dusk," I promised.
"You can take the truck."
"I could walk home faster than this truck moves."
He smiled for a second, and then his face fell. "You don't have to go," he murmured.
"Actually, I do." I glanced at Bonnie Black. She was staring again, but she looked away quickly when she met my gaze. "After you get rid of them..." I felt a smile spreading across my face, a little too wide. "You still have to prepare Charlie to meet your new girlfriend."
But while he clearly worried about Charlie's reaction, I could see that he would go through with this. He would give me a label in his human world, something to let me belong there.
My smile softened. "I'll be back soon."
I appraised the humans on the porch one more time. Julie Black was embarrassed, thinking caustic thoughts about her mother for dragging her out to spy on Beau and his girlfriend. Bonnie Black was still suffused with fear, expecting me to suddenly begin butchering everyone in sight. It was insulting.
In that frame of mind, I leaned over to kiss Beau goodbye. Just to mess with the old woman, I pressed my lips to his throat rather than his lips.
The agonized shouting in her head was nearly drowned out by the sound of Beau's heart racing, and I wished the irritating humans would disappear.
But his eyes were on Bonnie now, appraising her distress.
"Soon," he commanded. After one short, forlorn look, he opened the door and climbed out.
I sat very still as he jogged through the light rain to the door. "Hey, Jules. Hi, Bonnie," he said with forced enthusiasm. "Charlie's gone for the day—I hope you haven't been waiting long."
"Not long," the woman said quietly. She kept glancing at me and then away again. She held up a brown paper bag. "I just wanted to bring this up."
"Thanks. Why don't you come in for a minute and dry off?"
He acted like he was unaware of her piercing stare, unlocking the door and then gesturing for them to enter, a smile glued to his face. He waited till they were inside the house to follow.
"Let me take that," he said to Bonnie while he turned to shut the door behind him. His eyes locked with mine for one instant, and then the door was closed.
I quickly moved from Beau's truck to my usual tree before they could reach any windows that had a view of this side of the yard. I wasn't going to leave until the Blacks did. If things were going to get tense with the tribe again, I needed to know exactly how far Bonnie was willing to go today.
"You'll want to put that in the fridge. It's a batch of Holly Clearwater's homemade fish fry. Charlie's favorite. The fridge keeps it drier."
"Thanks. I was running out of ways to cook fish, and he's bound to bring more home tonight."
"Fishing again? Down at the usual spot? Maybe I'll run by and see him." Even more urgent now. I didn't know it had gotten so bad. Poor Beau, he doesn't realize—
"No," Beau protested sharply at the same time my teeth snapped together. "He was headed someplace new... but I have no idea where."
Even through the walls, I could hear that his tone was seriously off. Bonnie also noticed.
What's this? He doesn't want me to see Charlie. He couldn't know why I need to warn him.
I could see Beau's expression as she analyzed it; his eyes flashed, his chin lifted stubbornly. It reminded her of one of her daughters, the one who never visited.
I need to talk to him alone.
"Julie," she said slowly, "why don't you go get that new picture of Aaron out of the car? I'll leave that for Charlie, too."
"Where is it?"
Julie's pure, clear thoughts were all gloomy now, replaying the kiss in the truck. It affected her in a much different way than it did her mother. She knew he was too old to think of her the way she wished he would, but it depressed her to see the proof. She sniffed once and then winced, distracted.
Something's gone rancid in here, she thought, and I wondered if she was reacting to her mother's gift in the paper bag; I'd smelled nothing amiss this morning.
"I think I saw it in the trunk," Bonnie lied smoothly. "You may have to dig for it."
Neither Bonnie nor Beau spoke again until Julie exited the front door, her shoulders slumped and her face down. She trudged to the car, ignoring the rain, and—with a sigh—started to sift through a pile of old clothes and forgotten junk. She was still rehashing the kiss, trying to decide how into it Beau was.
Bonnie and Beau were facing off in the hallway.
How do I start...?
Before she could say anything, Beau turned and walked away toward the kitchen. She watched his retreating figure for a second, and then followed.
The refrigerator door creaked, then rustling ensued.
Bonnie watched as he slammed the fridge and whirled around to face her. She noted the defensive set of his mouth.
Beau spoke first, his voice unfriendly. He'd obviously decided there was no point in acting oblivious. "Charlie won't be back for a long time."
He must be keeping that thing a secret for his own reasons. He needs to know, too. Maybe I can say enough to warn him without actually breaking the treaty.
"Thanks again for the fish fry." Beau's words were clearly a dismissal, but Bonnie didn't think he looked surprised when she held her ground. He sighed and folded his arms across his chest.
"Beau," Bonnie said, her voice no longer casual. It was deeper now, graver.
He held as perfectly still as it was possible for a human to stand and waited for her to continue.
"Beau," she repeated. "Charlie is one of my best friends."
"Yes."
she said the words very slowly. "I noticed you've been spending time with one of the Cullens."
"Yes," he said again, barely veiling his hostility now.
She didn't respond to his tone. "Maybe it's none of my business, but I don't think that is such a good idea."
"You're right," he retorted. "It is none of your business."
So angry.
Her voice turned ponderous again as she considered her wording carefully. "You probably don't know this, but the Cullen family has an unpleasant reputation on the reservation."
Very careful. She stayed just barely on the right side of the line.
"Actually, I did know that." Beau's words flew hot and fast, in direct contrast to her. "But that reputation couldn't be deserved, could it? Because the Cullens never set foot on the reservation, do they?"
This pulled her up short. He knows! He knows? How? And how could he...? He couldn't. He can't know the whole truth. The revulsion that colored her thoughts made my teeth grind again.
"That's true," she finally conceded. "You seem... well informed about the Cullens. More informed than I expected."
"Maybe even better informed than you are."
What could they have told him that would make him so defensive of them? Not the truth. Some romantic fairy tale, no doubt. Well, obviously he won't be convinced by anything I have to say.
"Maybe." She was annoyed to have to agree with him. "Is Charlie as well informed?"
She watched his expression get more evasive. "Charlie likes the Cullens a lot."
Charlie doesn't know anything.
"It's not my business," Bonnie said. "But it may be Charlie's."
Beau's gaze dissected her expression for a long moment.
The boy looks like a lawyer.
"Though it would be my business, again, whether or not I think that it's Charlie's business, right?" he asked. It didn't really sound like a question.
Again, they locked eyes.
Finally, Bonnie sighed.
Charlie wouldn't believe me anyway. I can't alienate him again. I need to be able to keep watch on this situation.
"Yes, I guess that's your business, too."
Beau sighed and his posture relaxed. "Thanks, Bonnie," he said, his voice softer now.
"Just think about what you're doing, Beau," Bonnie urged.
His answer was too quick. "Okay."
Another thought caught my attention. I'd paid little notice to Julie's fruitless search, too focused on Bonnie and Beau's standoff. But now she realized—
Oh man, I'm a sucker. She wanted me out of the way.
Full of dismay over how her mother might be embarrassing her, and with a measure of guilty fear that Beau might have told on her about the treaty breaking, Julie slammed the trunk and loped toward the front door.
Bonnie heard the trunk and knew her time was up. She made her final plea.
"What I meant to say was... don't do what you're doing."
Beau didn't answer, but his expression was gentler now. Bonnie had a faint moment of hope that he was listening to her.
Julie banged the front door open. Bonnie glanced over her shoulder, so I couldn't see Beau's reaction.
"There's no picture anywhere in that car," Julie grumbled loudly.
"Hmm. I guess I left it at home," Bonnie said.
"Great," her daughter retorted with heavy sarcasm.
"Well, Beau, tell Charlie..." Bonnie waited for a beat before continuing. "That we stopped by, I mean."
"I will," he replied, voice sour again.
Julie was surprised. "Are we leaving already?"
"Charlie's gonna be out late," Bonnie explained, already wheeling herself toward the door.
What was even the point of coming up? Julie complained internally. Old woman is getting senile. "Oh. Well, I guess I'll see you later, then, Beau."
"Sure," Beau said.
"Take care," Bonnie added in a warning voice.
Beau didn't answer.
Julie helped her mother over the threshold and down the one step of the porch. Beau followed them to the door. He glanced toward the empty truck, then waved once toward Julie and shut the door while Julie was still loading her mother into the car.
Though I would have liked to join Beau and talk over what had just happened, I knew my job wasn't done yet. I heard him stamping up the stairs as I dropped from the tree and cut through the woods behind his house.
It was much more difficult to follow the Blacks in the daytime while on foot. I couldn't very well pace them along the highway. I ducked in and out of the thicker knots of forest, listening for the thoughts of anyone close enough to see me. I beat them to the La Push turnoff, and chanced a full-tilt sprint across the rainy highway while the only visible car was headed in the other direction. Once I was on the west side of the road, there was plenty of cover. I waited for the old Ford to appear, then ran parallel to them through the dark trees.
The two weren't talking. I wondered if I had missed any earlier recriminations from Julie. The girl's head was busy replaying the kiss again, and she was concluding morosely that Beau had been very into it.
Bonnie's mind was caught up in a memory. I was surprised that I remembered this, too. From a different angle.
It was over two and a half years ago. My family had been in Denali at the time, just a short courtesy visit on our way from one semipermanent home to the next. Groundwork for the move back to Washington had included one unique chore. Carine already had her job lined up and Earnest had bought his fixer-upper sight unseen. My siblings' and my fake transcripts had been transferred to Forks High School. But the last step of preparation was the most important—while also the most atypical. Though we'd moved back to former homes in the past—after an appropriate amount of time had elapsed—we'd never had to give warning of our arrival before.
Carine had started with the internet. She'd found an amateur genealogist named Alma Young working out of the Makah Reservation. Pretending to be another family history enthusiast, she'd asked about any descendants of Ephrath Black who might still live in the area. Mrs. Young had been excited to give Carine the good news: Ephrath's granddaughter and great-grandchildren all lived in La Push, just down the coast. Of course she didn't mind giving Carine the phone number. She was sure Bonnie Black would be thrilled to hear from her very distant cousin.
I'd been in the house when Carine had made the next call, so of course I'd heard everything Carine had said. Bonnie was remembering her side of it now.
It had been such an ordinary day. The twins were out with friends, so it was just Bonnie and Julie at home. Bonnie was teaching the girl how to whittle a sea lion out of madrona wood when the phone rang. She'd wheeled herself to the kitchen, leaving the child so focused on her work that she barely noticed her mother leaving.
Bonnie had assumed it was Harry, or maybe Charlie. She'd answered with a cheerful "Hello!"
"Hello. Is this Bonnie Black?"
She didn't recognize the voice on the other end of the line, but there was something sharp and clear about it that put her back up for some reason.
"Yes, this is Bonnie. Who's asking?"
"My name is Carine Cullen," the soft yet piercing voice told Bonnie, and it felt like the floor was falling out from under her. For a wild second, she'd thought she was having a nightmare.
This name and this keen-edged voice were part of a legend, a horror story. Though she'd been warned and prepared, it had all been such a very long time ago. Bonnie had never actually believed that one day she'd have to live in the same world as that horror story.
"Does my name mean anything to you?" the voice asked, and Bonnie noticed how young it sounded. Not hundreds of years old, as it should.
Bonnie had struggled to find her own voice. "Yes," she finally rasped.
She thought she heard a faint sigh.
"That's good," the monster replied. "It makes it easier for us to fulfill our duty."
Bonnie's mind went numb as she realized what the monster was saying. Duty. She was speaking of the treaty. Bonnie struggled to remember the secret accords she'd so carefully memorized. If the monster said she had a duty to discharge, then that could only mean one thing.
All the blood drained from Bonnie's face and the walls seemed to tilt around her, though she knew she was sitting safe and stable in her wheelchair.
"You're coming back," she choked out.
"Yes," the monster agreed. "I know this must be... unpleasant for you to hear. But I assure you that your tribe is in no danger, nor are any of the people in Forks. We have not changed our ways."
Bonnie couldn't think of anything to say. She'd been locked into this treaty since before her birth. She wanted to object, to threaten... but treaty or no, there was nothing she could do.
"We'll be living outside Forks." The monster rattled off a set of numbers, and it took Bonnie a moment to realize they were coordinates, lines of longitude and latitude. She scrambled for something to write with, and came up with a black Sharpie but no paper.
"Again," she demanded hoarsely.
The numbers came more slowly this time, and Bonnie scrawled them down her arm.
"I'm not sure how well you know the agreement—"
"I know it," Bonnie interrupted. The blood drinkers got a five-mile radius around the location of their lair that was off limits for any member of the tribe. It was a small space compared to the land that belonged to the tribe, but in this moment it seemed like much too much.
How would they convince any of the children to obey this rule? She thought of her own headstrong sons and her happy-go-lucky daughter. None of them believed any of the stories. And yet if they ever made an innocent mistake... they'd be fair game.
"Of course," the monster said politely. "We know it very well, too. You have nothing to worry about. I'm sorry for any distress this causes you, but we will not impact your people in any way."
Bonnie just listened, numb again.
"Our current plan is to live in Forks for about a decade."
Bonnie's heart stopped. Ten years.
"My children will be attending the local high school. I don't know if any of your tribe's children come up to the school—"
"No," Bonnie whispered.
"Well, if anyone wishes to, I can assure you it will not be unsafe."
The faces of the children of Forks flashed through Bonnie's mind. Was there nothing she could do to protect them?
"Let me give you my number. We'd be happy to have a more cordial—"
"No," Bonnie said, stronger this time.
"Of course. Whatever makes you most comfortable."
And then a panicked thought intruded. The monster had spoken of her children...
"How many?" Bonnie asked. Her voice sounded like she was being strangled.
"Pardon me?"
"How many of you are there?"
For the first time, the smooth, confident voice hesitated. "Two more found our family many years ago. There are seven of us now."
Very slowly and deliberately, Bonnie hung up the phone.
And then I had to stop running. I'd not quite reached the treaty line, but this particular memory made me loath to cut it too close. I turned north and headed homeward.
So nothing very helpful from Bonnie's thoughts. I felt reasonably sure that she would follow the same pattern: return to her safe zone and contact her cronies. They would hash through the new information—which was pretty meager—and come to the same conclusion. There was nothing they could do. The treaty was their only protection.
I imagined that Bonnie's longstanding friendship with Charlie would be the point of contention. Bonnie would fight very hard to be allowed to warn Charlie in a more detailed fashion. A cold one had chosen her only son as... a victim, a target, a meal; I could guess how Bonnie would choose to describe our relationship.
Surely the others, more impartial than Bonnie, would insist on her silence.
Regardless, Bonnie's earlier attempt to alert Charlie to the danger of Carine working at the hospital hadn't gone well. Adding in a heavy helping of the fantastical would certainly not help. Bonnie had already recognized that herself.
I was nearly home. I would give Carine the update and my analysis of the situation. There really wasn't much else to do. I was positive her reaction would be the same. Much like the Quileutes, we had no option besides following the treaty to the letter.
I darted across the freeway again when there were no cars passing. As soon as I was on the drive, I heard the sound of a familiar engine coming from the garage. I stopped dead in the middle of the single lane and waited.
Royal's red BMW rounded the curve and screeched to a stop.
I waved halfheartedly.
You know I'd hit you if it wouldn't mess my car up.
I nodded.
Royal revved his engine once, then sighed.
"You heard about the game, I guess."
Just let me go, Edythe. I could see in his mind that he had no destination in mind. He only wanted to be away from here. Eleanor will stay. That's enough, isn't it?
"Please?"
He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. I don't understand why this is so important to you.
"You are important to me, Roy," I said simply.
Everyone will have more fun without me.
I shrugged. He might be right.
I won't be nice.
I smiled. "I don't require nice. I only asked for toleration."
He hesitated.
"It won't be that bad," I promised. "Maybe you'll win the game soundly, make me look bad."
One corner of his mouth quirked up as he fought a smile. I get Eleanor and Jessamine.
He always picked the obvious muscle.
"Deal."
He took another deep breath, instantly regretting our agreement. He tried to imagine being in the same place as Beau and... struggled.
"Nothing is going to happen tonight, Roy. He's not making any decisions. He's just going to watch us play a game, that's all. Think of it as an experiment."
In that... it might blow up?
I gave him a tired look. He rolled his eyes.
"If it doesn't work, we'll regroup and come up with another solution."
Royal had a plethora of other solutions, most of them profane, but he was ready to surrender. He would try... but I could see that he would not work very hard at being civil. It was a start.
I suppose I should change, then. With that, he threw his car into reverse and gunned it back toward the house, climbing from zero to sixty before he was fully out of view. I took the shorter route straight through the forest.
Inside, Eleanor was watching four different baseball games at the same time on the big screen. Her head was turned away, though, listening to the sound of Royal's car squealing into the garage.
I gestured to the TV. "Nothing you'll find there will help you win tonight."
You talked Roy into playing?
I nodded once, and a huge grin split her face.
I owe you one.
I pursed my lips. "Really?"
She was intrigued that I clearly wanted something. Sure, what do you want?
"Your best behavior around Beau?"
Roy flitted through the room and up the stairs, pointedly ignoring us both.
Eleanor thought about my request. What exactly does that entail?
"Not terrifying him on purpose."
She shrugged. "Seems fair."
"Excellent."
I'm just glad you're back. The last months had dragged unusually for Eleanor, first with my moods and then with my absence.
I almost apologized, but I knew she wasn't upset with me now. Eleanor lived for the present.
"Where are Archie and Jessamine?"
Eleanor was watching the games again. Hunting. Jessamine wants to be ready. Funny thing—seemed like she was excited for tonight, more than I would have expected.
"Funny," I agreed, though I had a little more insight into why.
Edythe, dear, I can hear you dripping on my floors. Please change into something dry and mop that up.
"Sorry, Earnest!"
I dressed for Charlie this time, pulling out one of the more impressive rain jackets that I rarely wore. I wanted to look like a person who was taking the weather seriously, concerned about avoiding the cold and the wet. It was the little details that set humans at ease.
Automatically, I tucked my bottlecap into the pocket of my new jeans.
While I was mopping, I thought about the short journey to the baseball clearing tonight, and realized that—after yesterday—Beau might not be too keen on running with me to our destination. I knew there would have to be some running, but the shorter the distance the better, I assumed.
"Can I borrow your Jeep?" I asked Eleanor.
Nice jacket. She chuckled. Do try to stay dry and cozy.
I waited with an overdone expression of patience.
"Sure," she agreed. "But now you owe me one."
"I'm delighted to be in your debt."
I darted back upstairs to the sound of her laughter.
It was a quick conference with Carine—like me, she could see no course of action besides continuing on as we were. And then I was hurrying back to Beau.
Eleanor's Jeep was in many ways the most conspicuous of our cars just by sheer size. But there weren't many people out in the downpour, and the rain would make it hard for anyone to see who was driving. People would assume the massive vehicle was from out of town.
I wasn't sure how much time Beau would need, so I turned up the street a block from his to make sure he was ready for me.
Before I was even to the end of the street, I could tell Charlie's thoughts were in a dither. He must have begun. I caught a glimpse of Eleanor's face in her head. What was that about?
I pulled over by a patch of forest between homes and let the engine idle.
I was close enough now to make out their spoken voices. The nearby houses were not silent, but those other voices, both mental and physical, were easily ignored. I was so attuned to the sound of Beau's voice by now that I could have picked it out over a stadium full of shouting.
"What, Dad? Didn't you just tell me you wanted me to socialize?" he was saying.
"Yeah, I guess I did. And didn't you just tell me that none of the girls in town are your type?"
"I didn't say that, you did."
"Don't get touchy with me, kid, you know what I mean. Why didn't you say something? Was I being too nosey?"
"No, Dad, it's just... this is all kind of new, okay? I didn't want to jinx it."
"Huh..." Eleanor's face appeared in Charlie's head gain. He'd gotten our names switched. "So you went to meet her folks, eh?"
"Er, yeah. I mean, I already knew Dr. Cullen. But I got to meet her father."
"Earnest Cullen is great—quiet, but very... kind, I guess is the best word for it. There's something about him."
"Yeah, I noticed that."
"Meeting the parents, though. Isn't that kind of serious? Does that mean she's your girlfriend?"
"Yeah... Yeah, she's my girlfriend."
"Wow."
"You're telling me."
"Do I get a visit, too?"
"Will you be on your best behavior?"
"What, me? Have I ever embarrased you before? When are you picking her up?"
"Um, she's meeting me here. See—you do get a visit. She'll probably be here soon, actually."
"Where are you taking her?"
"Well, I guess the plan is that we're going to go... play baseball with her family."
It was silent for two seconds, and then Charlie burst into laughter.
Beau groaned theatrically. "I hope you're getting that out of your system now."
"Baseball, huh? You must really like this girl."
From Charlie's tone, it was evident that—despite his stepfather's occupation—Beau wasn't a huge fan of the sport.
"Yeah, I really do."
From the flashbacks running through Charlie's head, I thought he must be trying to piece together how long this relationship had been going on. He felt newly justified in his suspicions of the night before.
I revved the engine and made a quick U-turn. He'd finished his prep work, and I was anxious to be with him again.
I parked behind his truck and darted up to the doorway. Charlie was saying, "Pushy much?"
I pressed the doorbell, and then flipped my hood up. I was good at passing for human, but it felt a lot more important right now than it usually did.
I heard Charlie's footsteps coming toward the door, closely followed by Beau's. Charlie's mind seemed to be vacillating between anxiety and humor. I thought he was still enjoying the idea of Beau willingly being involved in a baseball game; I was almost positive I had it right.
Charlie opened the door, his eyes focused above me; he'd been expecting someone taller. He readjusted, and then staggered half a step back.
I'd experienced the reaction often enough in the past that I didn't need clearer thoughts to understand. Like any normal human, suddenly standing just a foot away from a vampire would send adrenaline racing through his veins. Fear would twist in his stomach for just a fraction of a second, and then his rational mind would take over. His brain would force him to ignore all the little discrepancies that marked me as other. His eyes would refocus and he would see nothing more than a teenage girl.
I watched him come to that conclusion, that I was just a normal girl. I knew he would be wondering what his body's strange reaction had been about.
Abruptly an image of Carine flitted through his head, and I thought he must be comparing our faces. We really didn't look much alike, but the similarities in our coloring were enough for most people. Maybe it wasn't enough for Charlie. He was definitely dissatisfied about something.
Beau was watching nervously over Charlie's shoulder.
I laughed. "Can I come in?"
"Yeah! Of course." Beau jumped back out of the way, knocking into Charlie.
Charlie gestured to the small living room alcove. "So Edythe, how are your parents?"
"Excellent, thank you, Chief Swan."
"You can call me Charlie. I'm off the clock."
"Thanks, Charlie."
"So, um, you're playing baseball tonight?" Charlie asked. Amusement was winning in his expression.
"Yes. Hopefully Beau doesn't mind hanging out with my family too much."
He chuckled aloud now. "I'd say it was the baseball he'd mind more."
I politely laughed along.
"Should we be on our way?" Beau suggested.
"We're not in a hurry," I said.
Beau nudged Charlie with his elbow.
"Oh, uh, yeah," Charlie said. "You kids go ahead, I've got a... a bunch of stuff to get to..."
Beau jumped to his feet. Hurrying back to the hall, he shoved his arms into his own jacket. Charlie and I followed. I grabbed my jacket on the way and slipped it on.
"It was lovely to see you, Charlie."
"Yes. You come visit anytime, Edythe."
"Thank you. You're very kind."
"Will you kids be out super late?" Charlie questioned.
"No, we'll be reasonable," I said.
"Don't wait up, though," Beau added.
Beau walked out.
Charlie and I laughed together again, though this time it was more genuine on my part. I smiled at Charlie and waved as I followed Beau outside.
I didn't get very far. Beau had frozen on the small porch, staring at Eleanor's Jeep. Charlie crowded behind me, looking to see what had slowed Beau's determination to escape.
He whistled in surprise. "Wear your seat belts," she said gruffly.
His father's voice galvanized him. He dashed out into the pouring rain. I kept my speed human speed as he got the driver's side door for me. Then he hesitated for a moment on his side, eyeing the seat, then the ground, then the seat again.
Inside the car, Beau was struggling with the seat belt. Holding a buckle in each hand, he looked up at me and said, "What—er—what is all this? How do I...?"
"Off-roading harness."
He frowned. "Um."
After a second of searching, he found a tongue, but it wouldn't fit into either of the two buckles he tried it with. I chuckled once at his baffled expression, then snapped all his attachments into place. His heart drummed louder than the rain when my hands brushed across the skin of his throat. I let my fingers trail across his collarbones once before I settled into my seat and started the engine.
"Er, thanks."
"You're welcome."
As we pulled away from the house he said, sounding a little alarmed, "This is a... um... large Jeep you have."
"It's Eleanor's. She let me borrow it so we wouldn't have to run the whole way," I admitted.
"Where do you keep this thing?"
"We remodeled one of the outbuildings into a garage."
"Wait, run the whole way?" his voice rose to a higher octave than usual. "As in, we're still going to run part of the way?"
"You're not going to run," I reminded him.
He moaned. "I'm going to puke in front of your family."
"Keep your eyes closed, you'll be fine."
His front teeth bit deep into his lower lip.
He shook his head, sighed, then reached over to take my hand. "Hi. I missed you."
"I missed you, too. Isn't that strange?"
"Why strange?"
"You'd think I'd have learned more patience over the last hundred years. And here I am, finding it difficult to pass an afternoon without you."
"I'm glad it's not just me."
I leaned over to kiss his cheek. The rain in his hair affected his scent in a way I hadn't expected. The burn in my throat, which had seemed so stable, seized me in a sudden flare. A groan of pain escaped my lips before I could block it.
I straightened up at once, putting space between us. He was staring at me, confused. I tried to explain.
"You smell even better in the rain."
His expression was wary as he asked, "In a good way, or a bad way?"
I sighed. "Always both."
The rain pelted the windshield like hail, sharp and loud, sounding more solid than a liquid. I turned onto the off-road track that would take us as deep into the forest as the Jeep could go. It would cut a few miles off the run.
Beau stared out the window seemingly lost in thought. I wondered whether my answer had upset him. But then I noticed how tightly he was bracing himself against the window frame, his other hand gripped around the edge of his seat. I slowed down, taking the ruts and the rocks as smoothly as I could.
It seemed as though every method of travel besides his lethargic dinosaur of a truck was unpleasant to him. Maybe this bumpy ride would make him less loath to travel the most convenient way.
The track died in a small open space surrounded by close-packed fir trees—there was just enough room to turn a vehicle around in order to head back down the mountain. I shut off the engine, and suddenly it was nearly silent. We'd run through the storm; it was just misting now.
"Sorry, Beau," I apologized. "We have to go on foot from here."
"You know what? I'll just wait here."
He sounded breathless again. I tried to read his face to see how serious he was. I couldn't tell if he was really that frightened, or being stubborn.
"What happened to all your courage?" I demanded. "You were extraordinary this morning."
The corners of his lips twisted up into a very small smile. "I haven't forgotten the last time yet."
I dashed around the car to his side, wondering about that smile. Was he teasing me a little?
I opened the door for his, but he didn't move. The harness must still be an impediment. I worked quickly to free him.
"I'll get those," he protested. But it was already done before he could add, "You go on ahead."
I considered his expression for a moment. He looked a little nervous, but not terrified. I didn't want him to give up on traveling with me. For one thing, it was the simplest way of getting around. But more than that... before Beau, running had been my favorite thing. I wanted to share it with him.
But first I had to convince him to give it another try.
Maybe I would attempt a more dynamic form of hypnotizing.
I thought through all our past interactions. In the early days, I'd often misinterpreted his reactions to me, but now I saw things through a new filter. I knew that if I looked into his eyes with a certain intensity, he would often lose his train of thought. And then when I kissed him, he forgot all kinds of things—common sense, self-preservation, and even life-sustaining activities like breathing.
"You don't trust me?"
"That really isn't the issue. Trust and motion sickness have zero relationship to each other."
"Do you remember what I was saying about mind over matter?" I asked.
"Yes..."
"Maybe if you concentrated on something else."
"Like what?"
I jumped into the Jeep and placed my knees on either side of him. He stared at me, a little nervous, a little excited.
"Keep breathing," I told him.
"How?"
"When we're running—and yes, that part is nonnegotiable—I want you to concentrate on this."
In the past, I'd had the strongest effect on him when I'd been searching most intensely to hear his secret thoughts. Amused by the futility, I tried again. I stared deeply into his clear, blue eyes. My own narrowed and I struggled fiercely through the silence. Of course there was nothing to hear.
He blinked four times fast, his nervous expression shifting to one that was more... stunned.
I felt I was on the right path.
I moved a few inches closer. His eyes closed halfway, his lips parted.
"Just remember us... like this..." I whispered into his ear.
Slowly I leaned down and pressed my lips into the small indentation between his collarbones. His breath caught and his heart fluttered.
My lips moved against the skin of his throat.
Slowly I tilted my face up, tracing the length of his throat with my nose and lips. I breathed my next question into the hollow just under the edge of his jaw. His eyes slid all the way closed.
"Breathe, Beau."
I brushed my lips up the side of his face, then softly kissed first one eyelid, then the next.
"Still worried?"
"Huh?"
Slow and deliberate, I kissed my way across his cheek, pausing right at the edge of his mouth.
"Edythe," he breathed.
And then, though I'd only been intending to overwhelm him, I found myself wholly overcome.
It didn't feel like my mind was in control. My body was as much in command as it was when I hunted—impulse and appetite overthrowing reason. Only now my desire was not for the old needs I'd had time to master. These were new passions, and I hadn't yet learned how to govern them.
My mouth crushed too roughly against his, my hands strained his face closer to my own. I wanted to feel his skin against every part of me. I wanted to hold him so close that we could never be separated.
This new fire—a fire without pain, that ravaged only my ability to think—raged even hotter when his arms wrapped tightly around my neck and his body bowed into mine. His heat and his pulse were fused against my own form from chest to thigh. I was drowning in sensation.
His lips opened against mine, with mine, and it seemed every part of me could think of nothing but deepening that kiss.
Ironically, it was my basest instinct that saved him.
His warm breath surged into my mouth, and my involuntary reflexes reacted—venom flowed, muscles clenched. It was enough of a shock to bring me back to myself.
I reeled away from him, feeling his hands slide down my neck.
Horror flooded my mind.
How close had I just come to harming him? To killing him?
I could see it as clearly as I could see his startled face in front of me now—a world without him. I'd considered this fate so many times that I didn't have to imagine now the vastness of that empty world, the agony of it. I knew it wasn't a world I could endure.
Or... a world in which he was miserable. If he, in total innocence, had touched his tongue to one of the razor-sharp edges of my teeth...
"Damn it, Beau!" I gasped, barely hearing the words that twisted out of me. I jumped back ten feet away from the Jeep.
Killing him would surely kill me, too. His life was my only life—my fragile, finite life.
"Sorry," he gasped.
"I truly do think you'll be the death of me."
"What?"
I groaned and took a deep breath, stepping back toward him. It didn't feel safe to be alone with him. "Let's get out of here before I do something really stupid."
I turned around for him and he seemed to understand the need to hurry. He didn't object as he climbed onto my back. He wrapped his arms and legs fast around me, and I had to struggle for a second again to keep my mind in control of my body.
"Keep your eyes shut," I warned him.
His face pressed tight against my shoulder.
The run wasn't long, but it was long enough for me to get myself in order. It seemed I couldn't trust anything when it came to my instincts; just because I was confident about my self-control in one way didn't mean I could take any other control for granted. I would have to take a step back and draw a careful line to protect him. I would have to limit physical contact to some form that didn't affect his ability to breathe or mine to think. It was pathetic that the second concern should be more important than the first.
He never moved during the short journey. I heard his breath coming evenly, and his heartbeat seemed stable, if slightly elevated. He held still even when I came to a stop.
I reached behind me to stroke his face. "It's over, Beau."
He loosened his arms first, taking a deep breath, and then relaxed his taut legs. Suddenly, the warmth of his body vanished.
"Oh!" he huffed.
I spun around to find him splayed awkwardly on the ground like a child's doll tossed to the floor. The shock in his eyes was rapidly turning to indignation, as if he had no idea how he'd gotten there, but knew someone was surely to blame.
I'm not sure why it was so funny. Perhaps I was just overwrought. Maybe it was the powerful relief I was beginning to feel now that the close call was once again behind me. Or I just needed the release.
For whatever reason, I started laughing and couldn't immediately stop.
Beau rolled his eyes at my reaction, sighed, and stood up. He tried to wipe the mud off his jacket with such a long-suffering expression that I could only laugh harder.
He glared at me. "You know, it would probably be more humane for you to just dump me now," he said glumly. "It's not going to get any easier for me over time."
He started walking away in the wrong direction. I choked back my humor and darted after to catch him lightly by the sweater, trying to force my voice to sound composed as I asked, "Where are you going, Beau?"
He wouldn't look at me. "Wasn't there a baseball game happening?"
"It's the other way," I informed him.
"Okay."
I took his hand and led him in the right direction. "I'm sorry I laughed."
"I would have laughed at me, too."
"No, I was just a little... agitated. I needed the catharsis."
We walked silently for a moment.
"At least tell me it worked—the mind-over-matter experiment."
"Well... I didn't get sick."
"Good, but...?"
"I wasn't thinking about... in the car. I was thinking about after. I know I already apologized, but... sorry. Again. I will learn how to do better, I know—"
"Beau, stop. Please, you make me feel even more guilty when you apologize."
He looked down at me. We'd both stopped walking. "Why should you feel guilty?"
I laughed again. "Oh, indeed! Why should I feel guilty?"
He put his hand to my cheek. "Edythe, I don't understand what you're saying."
"I just can't seem to stop putting you in danger. I think I'm in control of myself, and then it gets so close—I don't know how to not be this anymore," I told him, gesturing to myself. "My very existence puts you at risk. Sometimes I truly hate myself. I should be stronger, I should be able to—"
I was surprised when his fingers touched my lips, blocking the rest of what I wanted to say. "Stop."
The confusion had disappeared from his face, leaving only kindness behind.
I lifted his hand from my mouth and pressed it to my cheek.
"I love you," I told him. "It's a poor excuse for what I'm doing, but it's still true."
He stared at me with such warmth, such... adoration. There seemed to be only one answer to such a look.
"I love you," he answered. "I don't want you to be anything other than what you are."
It would have to be a restrained answer. There could be no more impulsiveness.
"Now, be a good boy," I murmured.
Gently, I pressed my lips against his for one brief second.
He was very still, holding even his breath. I straightened up quickly, waiting for him to breathe again.
He sighed.
"Baseball?" I asked.
"Baseball."
I freed him, taking one of his hands to lead his forward on the correct course. We only had ten yards to go before we passed the edge of the wood and entered the huge, open field my family simply called the clearing. The trees had been scraped away by a glacier long ago, and now just a thin layer of soil covered the bedrock beneath. Wild grass and bracken were the only things that flourished here now. It was a convenient play place for us.
Carine was setting up the diamond while Archie and Jessamine practiced some new tricks he wanted to perfect: If Jessamine decided in advance to run a certain direction, Archie could see this decision and throw to her new position before she'd telegraphed the move. It didn't give them much of an advantage, but as closely matched as we all were, anything had the potential to make them more competitive.
Earnest was waiting for Beau and me, with Eleanor and Royal sitting close beside him. When we stepped into view, I saw Royal yank his hand out of Earnest's before he turned his back to us and walked away.
Well, he hadn't promised nice. I knew it was a large enough concession for him to simply be here.
Utterly ridiculous. Earnest didn't agree with me. He'd been trying to cajole Roy out of his mood all afternoon without much effect, and he was exasperated.
It'll be all right once we start, Eleanor was thinking. Like me, she was just relieved Roy had come.
Earnest and Eleanor moved forward to welcome us. I gave Eleanor a cautioning look, and she grinned at me. Don't worry, I promised.
She eyed Beau with interest. It was one thing to be around humans while visiting in their world, but something else entirely to have one visit ours. It was exciting. And a human who was, to her mind, more or less one of us now. She had only positive experiences with adding to the family. She was eager to include Beau as well.
I might have enjoyed her enthusiasm, but underneath her fascination with something new, I could see that she didn't doubt Archie's version of things.
I would be patient. They would all come to understand over time.
"Was that you we heard before, Edythe?" Earnest asked. He made his voice louder than was necessary so Beau wouldn't be left out.
"Sounded like a hyena choking to death," Eleanor added.
Beau smiled shyly. "That was her."
Eleanor grinned at his, pleased with his gameness to play along.
"Beau was being funny," I explained.
Archie was rocketing toward us. I supposed it shouldn't worry me that he was being so himself. He could see better than I could guess what would frighten Beau and what would not.
He skipped to a stop just an arm's length away.
"It's time," Archie intoned solemnly, working the oracle vibe for Beau's benefit. Thunder shattered the stillness right on cue. I shook my head.
"Eerie, isn't it?" Eleanor murmured to Beau, winking when he looked surprised that she was addressing him. He grinned at her, only a little hesitant.
She glanced at me. I like him.
"Let's go!" Archie urged, reaching for Eleanor's hand. He knew exactly how long we could get away with playing unrestrained, and he didn't want to waste any time. Eleanor was no less eager to get started. Together, they raced toward Carine.
Can I have a moment with him? I'd like him to be comfortable with me, Earnest entreated. I could see how much it meant to him, for Beau to see him as a person and a friend, not something to be feared. I nodded, then turned to Beau.
"Are you ready for some ball?" I grinned, easily inferring from Charlie's comments that this evening was an anomaly for him. Well, hopefully we could keep his entertained.
"Go team!"
I laughed at his put-on enthusiasm, and then gave Earnest his desired space, chasing after Eleanor and Archie.
I listened to Earnest chatting with Beau as I joined the others. He didn't have any information he wanted to impart or extract—he just wanted to interact with Beau—but I was riveted regardless. I divided my attention between that conversation and the one around me.
"Edythe and I already picked teams," Royal said. "Jessamine and Eleanor are with me."
Archie was unsurprised. Eleanor liked the odds. Jessamine was less enthused; she preferred to work with Archie rather than against him. Carine was, like me, pleased at Royal's engagement with the game.
Earnest was complaining about our poor sportsmanship, obviously preparing Beau for the worst.
Carine pulled out a quarter. "Call it, Roy."
"He chose the teams," I objected.
Carine looked at me and then pointedly at Archie, who had already seen that the coin would fall heads up.
"Roy," she said again, and flipped the quarter into the air.
"Heads."
I sighed, and he grinned. Carine caught the coin neatly and flipped it onto her forearm.
"Heads," she confirmed.
"We'll bat," Royal said.
Carine nodded, and she, Archie, and I moved to take our fielding positions.
Earnest was telling Beau about his first daughter now, and I was surprised at the intimate direction their conversation had taken. This was Earnest's rawest wound, but he was gentle and composed as he spoke. I wondered why he'd decided to share that.
Or perhaps Earnest hadn't decided at all. There was something about the way Beau listened... Hadn't I been eager to spill every dark secret I'd ever had? Hadn't young Julie Black betrayed an ancient treaty simply to amuse him? He must have this effect on everyone.
I moved into deep left field. I could still hear Beau's voice clearly.
"You don't mind, then? That I'm... all wrong for her?" Beau asked.
Poor child, Earnest thought. This must be so overwhelming for him.
"No," he told Beau, and I could hear that this was true. All Earnest wanted was my happiness. "You're what she wants. It will all work out, somehow."
But, like Eleanor, he could only see one way. I was glad I was far enough out that Beau couldn't read my face clearly.
Archie waited until Earnest was in the umpire's position, Beau at his side, before he stepped onto the makeshift mound.
"All right, batter up," Earnest called.
Archie hurled out the first pitch. Eleanor, too eager, took a massive swing that whistled so closely by the ball that the air pressure disrupted the straight line of the pitch. Jessamine snagged the ball out of the air, then whipped it back to Archie.
"Was that a strike?" I heard Beau whisper to Earnest.
"If they don't hit it, it's a strike," Earnest responded.
Archie fired another pitch across the plate. Eleanor had recalibrated. I was running before I heard the detonation as the bat and the ball collided.
Archie had already seen where the ball was headed, and that I was fast enough. It took a bit of the fun out of the game—honestly, Roy should have known better than to let Archie and me play on the same team—but I was intending to win tonight.
I raced back with the ball, hearing Earnest call Eleanor out right as I made it back to the edge of the clearing.
"Eleanor hits the hardest, but Edythe runs the fastest," Earnest was explaining to Beau.
I grinned at them, happy to see that Beau looked entertained. His eyes were wide, but so was his smile.
Eleanor took Jessamine's place behind home plate while Jessamine took the bat, though it was Royal's turn to catch. That was irritating; surely standing within a ten-foot radius of Beau was not that enormous a burden. I was starting to wish I hadn't pushed to get him here.
Jessamine wasn't planning to see how fast I could run; she knew she couldn't hit as far as Eleanor. Instead, she caught Archie's pitch off the end of the bat, driving the ball close enough to Carine that it was obvious she would need to be the one to chase it. Carine dashed right to scoop it up, then raced Jessamine to first base. It was very close, but Jessamine's left foot connected with the base just before Carine connected with her.
"Safe," Earnest declared.
Beau was leaning up on his tiptoes, his hands covering his ears with the v visible between his brows, but he relaxed as soon as Carine and Jessamine were on their feet again. He glanced toward me, and his smile came back.
I could feel the palpable tension as Royal took his turn at bat. Though Beau was out of his line of sight while he faced Archie on the mound, Royal's shoulders seemed to curl inward, away from Beau. His stance was stiff and his expression rigid with distaste.
I glared at him critically, and he curled his lip at me.
You wanted me here.
Roy was distracted enough that Archie's first pitch sailed past him into Eleanor's hand. He frowned more deeply and tried to concentrate.
Archie launched the ball toward Roy again; this time Roy got a piece of it, whacking it past third. I ran in, but Archie already had it. Instead of throwing Roy out, for which there was time, Archie whirled and bolted toward home. Jessamine was already halfway between third and home. She put her shoulder down as though she was planning to knock Archie off the plate the way she had Carine, but Archie didn't wait for her to charge him. He executed a clever half-spin, half-slide maneuver, gliding past her and then tagging her from behind. Earnest called her out, but Royal had made use of the distraction to get to second.
I could guess their next play before Eleanor traded spots with Jessamine again. Eleanor would hit a long sacrifice fly to get Royal home. Archie had seen the same, but it looked like they would succeed. I moved back to the tree line, but if I ran to the spot Archie saw the ball heading to before Eleanor actually hit it, Earnest would penalize us for cheating. I coiled my muscles, ready to race—not the ball, but Archie's vision.
Eleanor hit this one high rather than long, knowing gravity was slower than I was. It worked, and I ground my teeth as Royal touched home plate.
Beau, however, was delighted. He clapped his hands with a huge smile, impressed by the play. Royal didn't acknowledge Beau's spontaneous applause—he wouldn't even look at him, instead rolling his eyes at me—but I was surprised to hear that he was ever so slightly... softened. I supposed it wasn't that remarkable; I knew how much Royal craved admiration.
Maybe I should tell him some of the complimentary things Beau had said about him... but he might not believe me. If he would look at Beau now, he would see Beau's obvious marveling. That would probably soothe Roy even more, but he refused to look.
Still, it made me more hopeful. A little time and a lot of compliments... we could win Roy over together.
Eleanor, too, was enjoying Beau's excited amazement. She already liked him more than I'd expected, and she found this game more fun with an animated audience. And just as Roy loved admiration, Eleanor loved fun.
Carine, Archie, and I ran in while Royal's team took the field. Beau greeted me with huge eyes and a wide smile.
"What do you think?" I asked.
He laughed. "One thing's for sure, I'll never be able to sit through dull old Major League Baseball again."
"And it sounds like you did so much of that before."
Then he pursed his lips. "I am a little disappointed."
He hadn't looked disappointed. "Why?"
"Well, it would be nice if I could find just one thing you didn't do better than everyone else on the planet."
Ugh.
Royal wasn't the only one who groaned at that, but he was loudest.
How long will the goo goo eyes take? Royal demanded. The storm won't last forever.
"I'm up," I said to Beau. I retrieved the bat from where Eleanor had tossed it, and walked to the plate.
Carine crouched behind me. Archie showed me the direction of Jessamine's pitch.
I bunted.
"Coward," Eleanor growled as she chased down the ball, which was bouncing unpredictably. Roy was waiting for me on second, but I made it in plenty of time. He scowled at me and I grinned back.
Carine stepped up to the plate and leaned into her stance. I could hear her intention, and Archie's prediction that she would be successful. I set myself, every muscle ready to surge. Jessamine threw a fast curveball—Carine angled her bat perfectly.
I wished I could warn Beau to cover his ears again.
The sound it made when Carine connected was not something that could be convincingly explained away as thunder. It was lucky that humans were so unsuspicious, that they didn't want to believe in anything unnatural.
I was running full out, listening through the echoing boom to the sound of Royal racing through the forest. If he moved fast enough—but no, Archie could see the ball landing on the ground.
I hit home plate before the ball was halfway to its eventual destination. Carine was just rounding first. Beau blinked fast when I came to a stop a few feet from him, as if he hadn't been fully able to follow my run.
"Jessamine!" Royal called from somewhere still deep in the forest. Carine flew past third. The sound of the ball zooming in our direction whistled through the trees. Jessamine darted to the plate, but Carine slid under her just before the ball smacked into Jessamine's palm.
Earnest called, "Safe."
"Beautiful," Archie congratulated us, holding his hand up for a high five. We both obliged him.
We could all hear Royal's teeth grinding.
I went to stand beside Beau, lacing my fingers loosely through his. He smiled up at me, his cheeks and nose pink from the cold, but his eyes glowing with excitement.
Archie was thinking of a hundred different ways to tip the ball as he picked up the bat, but he couldn't see a way past Jessamine and Eleanor. Eleanor was hovering close to third, knowing that Archie didn't have the muscle to outstrip Royal's fielding.
Jessamine pitched a fastball, and Archie drove it toward right field. She raced the ball to first, grabbed it, and tagged the base before Archie could get there.
"Out."
I squeezed Beau's fingers once, then went to take my turn again.
This time I tried to get one past Royal, but Jessamine tossed out a slow pitch, robbing me of the momentum I needed. I grounded the ball, but only made it to first before Royal blocked me.
Carine smashed the ball straight down against the rocky ground, hoping it would pop up high enough that I would have a chance to get around the bases, but Jessamine leaped up and got it back in play too quickly. Eleanor had me cornered on third.
Archie ran through the possibilities as he approached the plate, but the outlook wasn't encouraging. He did his best, though, driving the ball as hard as he could down the right foul line. Jessamine didn't take the bait, not even trying to tag him out before she fired the ball back to Eleanor, who stood like a brick wall in front of home plate. I didn't have a lot of choices. There was no way to make it past her, but if our entire team got stranded on the bases—according to our family rules—that meant an automatic end to the inning.
I charged Eleanor, who looked thrilled by my choice, but before I could even try to dance around her to the plate, Royal was already complaining.
"Earnest—she's trying to force an out." This was also against the family rules.
Of course, Eleanor tagged me, there just wasn't any way around her.
"Cheater," Roy hissed.
Earnest gave me a reproving look. "Roy is right. Take the field."
I shrugged, and headed to the outfield.
Roy's team did better this time. Both he and Jessamine got around off one of Eleanor's big hits, though I was pretty sure he'd cheated. The path of the ball shifted in flight, almost as if something smaller had knocked it off course, but I was too deep in the trees to see where that projectile had come from. I had time to throw Eleanor out, at least. Royal's next long fly was too low; Archie was able to jump for it. Jessamine got on base again, but I stopped Eleanor's line drive before it reached the forest, and Carine and I caught Jessamine between us on her way to third.
As the game progressed, I watched for signs that Beau was getting bored. But every time I looked, he seemed completely engrossed. This was something new to him, at least. I knew we didn't look much like humans playing baseball. I monitored his expression, waiting for the novelty to wear off. We had hours left in the storm, and Eleanor and Jessamine wouldn't want to miss any of it. If Beau were weary, or too cold, though, I would excuse myself. I winced internally, thinking of how well that would go over with Royal. Ah, well, he would survive.
Manners wore thin as the score fluctuated, and I wondered what Beau would think of us, Earnest's warning notwithstanding. But when Royal shouted that I was a "pathetic, cheating tool" (because I'd known exactly which tree to scale in order to catch his fly ball) and later a "leprous swine" (tagging him out at third), Beau just laughed along with Earnest. Royal wasn't the only one hurling insults as we played, but this time Carine wasn't the only person who wasn't. I was on my best behavior, though I could see this irritated Royal more than if I'd matched him trash talking.
So it was a win-win.
We were in the eleventh inning—our innings never lasted more than a few minutes; we wouldn't stop at any particular number, we'd just end when the storm did—and Carine was batting first. Archie could see another big hit coming, and I wished that one of us were on base. Sure enough, Eleanor—taking her turn on the mound—couldn't resist trying to throw a fast strike past Carine, and thus gave her all the power she needed to crush the ball so hard it sailed far past where Royal had any hope of stopping it. The sound reverberated off the mountains, more like an explosion than thunder.
While that sound was still echoing around us, another sound caught my attention.
"Oh!" The sound huffed out of Archie as though someone had punched him.
The images were pouring through his head in a torrent. An avalanche of new futures swirled unintelligibly, seemingly disconnected from each other. Some were blinding bright and some so dark there was nothing to see. A thousand different backgrounds, most of them unfamiliar.
Nothing was left of the future he'd been perfectly confident in before this moment. Whatever had changed was big enough that it left no part of our destiny untouched. Archie and I both felt a shiver of panic.
He focused. Working quickly, he traced the new visions back to their beginnings. The churning images funneled into a narrow moment very close to the present, almost immediate.
Three strangers' faces. Three vampires he saw running toward us.
I darted to Beau, considering racing away with him immediately. But there were near futures of us alone, outnumbered...
"Archie?" Earnest asked.
Jessamine rocketed to Archie's side almost faster than I'd moved to Beau's.
"I didn't see," Archie whispered. "I couldn't tell."
He was comparing visions now. The older ones where, tomorrow night, the three strangers would approach the house. It was a future I was prepared for; Beau and I were far away in that version.
Something had changed their plans. He moved forward, just a few minutes, into this new timeline. A friendly meeting was a possibility, introductions, a request. Archie realized what had happened. But I was fixated on the fact that Beau was there in this vision, quietly in the background.
We were all in a tight circle at this point, Archie at our center.
Carine leaned close, putting one hand on his arm. "What is it, Archie?"
Archie shook his head quickly, as though trying to force the pictures in his head to line up in a way that made sense. "They were traveling much quicker than I thought. I can see I had the perspective wrong before."
"What changed?" Jessamine had been with Archie for so long that she understood better than anyone besides me how his talent worked.
"They heard us playing," Archie told us; the strangers would reveal this information in the friendly version of events. "And it changed their path."
Everyone stared at Beau.
"How soon?" Carine demanded, turning toward me.
It was not an easy distance for me to hear across. It helped that on a late, stormy night like this, the mountains around us were mostly empty of humans. It helped more that there were no other vampires in the area. Vampire minds were slightly more resonant; I could hear them from a greater distance, pinpoint them more easily. So I was able to locate them—aided by the landmarks I'd seen in Archie's vision—but I could only catch the most dominant thoughts.
"Less than five minutes," he told her. "They're running—they want to play."
Her eyes flashed to Beau again. You have to get him away from here. "Can you make it?"
Archie focused on one strand of possibility for me. Trying to escape, Beau on my back.
Beau didn't slow me down very much—it wasn't the burden of his weight but the need to move carefully so as not to hurt him that impeded me—but I wouldn't be quite fast enough. This strand tied into the other future I'd seen: us surrounded, outnumbered...
The strangers were not so enthusiastic about baseball as to be careless. Archie saw that they would come at the clearing from three different angles, surveilling, before regrouping to present a united front. If any of them heard me running, they would come to investigate.
I shook my head. "No, not carrying—"
Carine's thoughts roiled in alarm.
"Besides," I hissed, "the last thing we need is for them to catch the scent and start hunting."
"How many?" Eleanor demanded.
"Three," Archie growled.
Eleanor snorted. The sound was so at odds with the tension that I could only stare at her blankly.
"Three!" she scoffed. "Let them come."
Carine was considering options, but I could already see there was only one. Eleanor was right: There were enough of us that the strangers would have to be suicidal to start a fight.
"Let's just continue the game," Carine agreed, though I didn't need to read minds to hear how unhappy she was with this decision. "Archie said they were simply curious."
Archie started combing through all the possibilities for an encounter here in the clearing, the images more solid now that a decision had been made. It looked like the vast majority were peaceable, though they all began with tension. There were a few outliers on the spectrum of outcomes where something ignited a standoff, but those were less clear. Archie couldn't see what would trigger the conflict—some decision yet to be made. He didn't see any stable version that would result in physical combat here.
But there was so much he couldn't interpret yet. I saw the blinding sunlight again, and neither of us could understand where he was seeing.
I knew Carine's decision was the only decision, but I felt sick to my core. How could I have allowed this to happen?
"Edythe," Earnest whispered. Are they thirsty? Are they hunting now?
Thirst wasn't in their thoughts, and in Archie's vision, every second more clear, their eyes were a satiated red.
I shook my head at him.
That's something, at least. He was nearly as horrified as I was. His thoughts were, like mine, snarled up in the idea of Beau's being in danger. Though Earnest was no fighter, I could hear how fierce this made him feel. He would defend Beau as if he were his own child.
"You catch, Earnest," I directed. "I'll call it now."
Earnest took my place quickly, but his focus was locked on Beau's position.
No one was eager to stray deep into the field. They hovered close, ears all trained toward the forest. Archie, like Earnest, had no intention of moving away from Beau. His protective thoughts were not exactly like Earnest's—not as paternal—but I could see that he, too, would shield Beau at any cost.
Despite the sick feeling consuming me, I could feel a rush of gratitude for their commitment.
"The others are coming now," Beau stated. His voice was quiet, but even.
"Yes," I said. "Stay very still, keep quiet, and don't move from my side, please."
"That won't help," Archie murmured. "I could smell him across the field."
"I know," I snapped.
"What did Earnest ask you?" Beau whispered.
I thought about lying. He must already be terrified. But I told him the truth. "Whether they were thirsty."
His heart thudded out of rhythm, then picked up faster than before.
I was vaguely aware of the others pretending to continue the game, but my mind was so focused on what was coming that I saw nothing of their façade.
Archie watched his visions solidify. I saw how they would split up, which routes they would take, and where they would reassemble before confronting us. I was relieved to see that none of them would cross Beau's earlier trail before entering the clearing. Perhaps that was why Archie's vision of the cordial if cautious meeting held firm. Of course, there were hundreds of possibilities once they were here. I saw myself defending Beau many times, the others always standing with me—well, Royal taking Eleanor's flank; it looked like he had little interest in protecting anyone besides her. There were a few fragile future threads where it came to a fight, but they were as insubstantial as steam. I couldn't get a good view of the outcome.
I could hear their minds approaching, still distant, but clearer. It was obvious that none of them had any hostility toward us, though the one trailing the pack—the redheaded male Archie had seen—was skittish with anxiety. He was prepared to run for it if he felt any hint that we were aggressive. The two females were just excited about the possibility of some recreation. They seemed to be comfortable with approaching a group of strangers, and I assumed they were nomads familiar with how things worked here in the North.
They were splitting up now, doing their due diligence before exposing themselves.
If Beau hadn't been here, if he'd rejected the idea of spending his evening watching us play... well, I probably would have been with him. And Carine would have called me to let me know the strangers had arrived early. I would have been anxious, of course. But I would have known I'd done nothing wrong.
Because I should have foreseen this possibility. The noise of playing vampires was a very specific sound. If I'd taken the time to think through all the conceivable contingencies, if I'd not accepted Archie's vision of the strangers coming tomorrow as gospel—set my watch to it, so to speak—if I'd been circumspect rather than enthusiastic...
I tried to imagine how I would have felt if this encounter had taken place six months ago, before I'd ever seen Beau's face. I thought I would have been... unperturbed. Once I'd seen these visitors' minds, I would have been confident that there was nothing to worry about. Probably, I would even have been excited about the novelty of newcomers and the variation they would add to the pattern of our usual game.
Now I could feel nothing but dread, panic... and guilt.
"I'm sorry, Beau," I breathed just loud enough for him to hear. The strangers were too close for me to risk speaking at a greater volume. "It was stupid, irresponsible, to expose you like this. I'm so sorry."
He just stared at me, whites showing all around his irises. I wondered if he kept silent because of my warning, or if he just had nothing to say to me.
The strangers reunited at the southwest corner of the clearing. Their movements were audible now. I shifted my position so that my body would hide his and began tapping my foot quietly to the rhythm of his heartbeat, hoping to disguise it as long as I could by creating a plausible source for the sound.
Carine turned to face the whisper of their approaching feet, and the others followed her lead. We would not give away any of our advantages, but would pretend to have no more than our extensive vampire senses to guide us.
Frozen, motionless as if we were hewn from the rock around us, we waited.