Chapter 7

"You're insane. That's what's happened to you. You went crazy, your mother decided it was time for the loony bin and they shipped you off to have a lobotomy in some creepy asylum in New York."

"I assure you, I'm telling the truth. I'm a half-vampire, about to become a Full." It really does sound stupid, when said out loud.

"I'll be needing to call the authorities soon, I'm sure they're missing you at the nuthouse."

I get up, an eye on her to make sure she doesn't bolt, and get a bottle of the wine I've been enjoying during my stay that room service thankfully replenished. I consider bringing the bag of blood to show her, but think it might be too soon for that and I don't want her to vomit again. Carrying the bottle and two glasses back to Bella, I watch her as she watches me open and pour the wine. "I'm sure you have questions."

"Besides how you escaped your straight jacket?"

Sipping from my glass, I keep my eyes trained on her, thinking of how to convince her that I'm telling the truth without latching onto her leg to have a snack. "Bella, believe me. I wish I wasn't being so damn honest with you right now. I know it sounds ridiculous, but you have to know it would take something unbelievable like this to pry me from your side. That something out of my control had to have happened," I plead. "Part of you must still have faith in that."

She says nothing for a long while, assessing me as she drinks, her eyes wandering over me like something in my appearance will give her the approval she needs to accept what I'm telling her.

"So, if you drink blood, why are you drinking wine?"

Relieved she's not running screaming from the room, I sit back. "I don't drink blood exclusively, not yet anyway. There are some things I still enjoy; red wine and scotch for their warmth, and rare meats. I dislike eating or drinking anything cold."

"So no gazpacho for you?"

"No," I laugh, hoping she's really bantering and not coming up with quips due to shock.

"It's red."

"Red isn't an appeal as much as warmth is."

She takes a healthy sip of her wine, her eyes not straying from mine as I raise the glass to my own lips. "So how did you come about this affliction? Did a bat bite you? Right before graduation? You could've just told me you didn't want to walk."

"I'm actually sad I missed that, seeing you in your blue cap and gown."

"I wore shorts underneath. With an 'I hate Edward' shirt."

"I wouldn't expect anything less." I chuckle, and she gives me a small smile, her body relaxing infinitesimally, but I see it. It's all I need to proceed and get this story over with. "As you know, my mother raised me, alone. I never knew my father, she told me that she'd had a one night stand when she was a flight attendant and never saw him again. She always tried to hide her sadness that he wasn't a part of our life, but I could see it in her eyes, and always suspected there was more to the story."

Bella's face turns from an expression that reads less like 'you're batshit crazy' into one I remember well, compassion for my mother whom she loved dearly. "Yes, that's what the story was. I never believed it either."

"As far as I knew, that was the truth."

"So you didn't know any of…" she waves her hand up and down my body. "This?"

"No. There were clues, now that I look back. Remember how I'd burn quickly in the sun? Like, stupidly fast? You'd always be the one to carry sunblock for me in your bag, knowing I wouldn't remember to bring it with us." She laughs a bit, hopefully focusing on a memory that's pleasant to her. "And how I used to eat my hamburgers-"

"Rare. The bloodier the better," she finishes, and I know she's thinking of us in the diner, taking up the big corner booth even though we sat huddled together. We would wait for that booth to open if it was occupied, as we never sat anywhere else and everyone knew it.

"Yes."

"The iron pills." Her voice is far away, her mind working and trying to come up with her own clues. That's a good sign, right? That she wants to believe me? That she's giving this admittedly ludicrous story a chance? "Your mother gave you iron pills because Dr. Banner said you were anemic."

"Ironically, I assume that was just part of my makeup, the pills never seemed to improve my levels."

"She was so worried." She sips her wine, lost in thought. Suddenly, she sputters, a bit of wine flying out of her mouth and landing on my nice, beige shirt. "Edward! Your mother! Does she… did she..."

"Know? No. Well, not until my father returned."

"So she found out when you did? I can't believe you kept all that was happening from me. Did you think I would laugh at you? Not believe you?"

"I think you're having a hard time believing me now," I point out.

"Back then, Edward, I'd have believed you if you told me Darth Vader was your father"

It's true, absolutely, and the idea that maybe I didn't need to keep her out of it pains me. "You have to understand, weird things were starting to happen to me, things I couldn't explain or put into words. I didn't know what was going on and then he just showed up, like he knew it was time."

"Time for what, exactly?"

"Well, what happens is, a dhampir always has the traits in him, but at a certain age, they start to surface. For me, it was my eighteenth birthday."

"Two weeks before graduation." Bella pulls her legs up onto the chair, circling her arms around them and holding herself.

"Yes. It's different for everyone. Some start to change immediately, some not until they're well into middle age."

"What are these traits? I can't believe I'm even considering this to be true," she huffs, but waits for an answer.

"Let's see, um, I began not sleeping. At all. Not even an hour. Remember I was always tired? You thought it was the pot." She nods, eyes curious at what I've revealed. "And I started having these feelings, like I was suddenly so angry out of nowhere and I had the urge to do something bad."

"Did you? Like, kill people?"

Oh Bella, not for sport. Only for money. "No, never. I've never drank directly from anyone." That is true.

"Hoo boy. Okay. What else?"

"Do you remember when we broke into the town pool?" She nods. "Do you remember what happened?"

She thinks a moment, her head cocked to the side and I want to kiss her. "We were swimming, and you… scared me. You sank to the bottom and didn't come up. I kept pulling on you and pulling on you, and you stayed down there. I thought you'd get brain damage from lack of oxygen."

"I didn't."

"No, you came up and I remember you being as freaked out as I was."

"That's when I discovered I didn't need to breathe that much."

"Oh, God." I nod, giving her time to let it all sink in. I can see her wheels turning, all the little instances that she can now perceive another way flashing across her face.

After a quiet while, she shifts in her chair and breathes deeply. "Ok, so say that what you're saying is true and not some massive novel you're working on, what happened next?"

"Well, my father appeared out of nowhere. You know I hated him my whole life, even though my mother told me he didn't know I existed. I know now that was a lie, 'cause there he was. So he showed up and I fought what he was telling me, fought him with everything I had, even though it answered so many questions. In the end, he guided me through it, showed me what I was. What I couldn't change. He helped me accept my destiny."

Bella finishes her wine and holds her glass out towards me. Refilling, I don't take my eyes from her as I watch her face morph and try to absorb everything I'm telling her. "So your mother knew what he was?"

"Okay, now this is going to sound weird." Bella's eyebrow rise in disbelief. "My father is an incubi, technically they're supposed to have sex and impregnate human women while they sleep, but my father told me a story about a young girl he became infatuated with and pursued for months, only to have to leave her once his father found out he'd fallen in love with his intended victim. That's a big no-no. So when he resurfaced, it was heartbreaking for her, but she listened to him, listened to him tell her what he was, why he had to leave her even though he didn't want to. She confessed she always knew he was something different, but could never pinpoint it exactly, so she was more prone to believe him than I was at first."

"So your father loved your mother all this time? But had to leave her? Poor Esme." She wipes a tear from beneath her eye, and I'm struck at the amount of feeling she has inside for my mother, regardless of what we'd done to her. Like she's reading my mind, Bella speaks quietly. "I went to your house. Esme was gone, too. I was so hurt, so confused."

Somewhere inside me I've always assumed that she had gone to find me, but hearing it, I'm riddled with pain. I've suppressed thinking about what Bella might've felt all these years, telling myself that me leaving was for her own good, that I was doing it for her benefit, so she wouldn't have to make a choice. So she wouldn't have the chance to call me a monster. But to think she missed my mother just as much, well, there are no words for how sorry I am for that.

"My mother left with my father and me. She… had to make some changes to be with us." I run my hand up and down my face, a weariness I haven't felt in a long time overwhelming me.

"Are you telling me Esme is a vampire?" Bella shouts, standing from her chair in a sudden burst of movement that causes me to stand as well.

"Well, yes. So it's a family thing, you see?" I try to laugh, but it falls flat.

Bella puts her wine glass down, her hands shaking as she tucks them into the back pocket of her shorts. "I don't know how much more of this I can take."

Panicked, I move to grab her, but she skirts away towards the glass door. "Bella, please. We've gotten this far, don't go now."

"Edward, my head is pounding, my adrenaline is surging, my nerves are shot, and I'm probably fired for disappearing. I really just want to go home and self-medicate."

"That's not a smart choice, but I understand," I say hypocritically as I think about my bottle of blue happy pills. Crestfallen, I walk behind her as she moves towards the hotel room door. "This really is the truth, Bella. I never, ever, wanted to leave you. You were my entire reason for living."

She turns, her arms wrapped around her body like a protective cocoon. She sighs, closes her eyes, shifts on her feet. Finally after a few long moments, she looks at me, and says the thing I didn't think possible.

"I believe you."

"You do?" Joy floods me, and I step towards her, but she quickly backs up.

"I believe you, doesn't mean I forgive you."

"'I'm going to do everything in my power to win your trust back."

"Do you have some weird vampire powers like making me fall under your spell?"

"Not that, exactly." Her eyes widen and her mouth opens slightly, I'm afraid I'm overdosing her with info and I have to tread lightly. "Go home, Bella, have sweet dreams. I'll pick you up in the morning."

She turns to open the door, nodding. "Wait, what?"

"I told you, I'm going to do everything I can to win you back. You didn't think I'd give up that easily, did you? dhampirs are also known for their tenacity."


Mid-morning finds me pulling up in front of Bella's bungalow, smiling from ear to ear and happier than I could've imagined. Last night went as well as could've been expected, better actually, so I'm feeling positive that my plan to get back into her affections is going to work out for me. I called on all of my hitman skills - extensive planning and plotting - and feel secure in my course of action.

The girl's not going to know what hit her.

The breeze is flowing through the open-air bus I've rented, a dilapidated aqua monstrosity once used to ferry tourists to and from the aquarium but now owned by a junkyard on the mainland. I've been up all night arranging this transportation, but I'm confident my work will pay off. Like a well-executed hit.

I'm about to get out of the bus to fetch her properly when her door opens and she walks out, her mouth open and staring in disbelief as I hang out the door, smiling.

"Good morning, Bella!"

She walks slowly to me, shaking her head. "What did you do? Where'd you get this thing?" I see her eyes starting to tear up as she reaches me, and it's all I can do not to hug her silly. "You don't play fair, Edward."

"Never said I was going to." I'm delighted when she takes my offered hand to help her up the steps, and once inside, she looks around and laughs.

"It's our bus."

"As close as I could get." I usher her to the passenger seat and pull a drink from the cooler on the floor between us. "One large Dunkin' Donuts iced coffee, three milks, two Sweet'N Low."

She takes the drink from me, a look of wonder on her face, so I pat myself on the back a little. "I suppose you won't be joining me?"

"I once promised you that you'd never drink alone. Then, it was beer, but now, it's coffee." Holding up my hot cup, I toast her and tip my Styrofoam to her plastic. A look of sadness crosses her face and I realize my mistake.

"I'm back Bella, and I'm not going anywhere this time."

She fingers the straw, but doesn't acknowledge what I've so firmly stated. "So where are we headed in this thing, anyway?"

I rev the engine of the old bus and flip my sunglasses down onto my face. "The beach, sweetheart. Where else?"


Senior year, the spring before I turned eighteen, Bella and I stole Eric Yorkie's transportation, a broken down bus he'd paid five hundred dollars for that he was determined to fix up. He'd been saying it for a year, the hunk of metal taking up space in his parents' driveway and basically being a complete eyesore in the neighborhood, its sky blue and yellow paint job a hippie's paradise. He'd finally gotten the motor running, but the windows were still glassless and the interior was pretty much gutted and void of any seating besides the driver's and passenger's seats.

We left Forks with only a note to our parents, telling them not to worry and that we'd be back after spring break. A whole week of driving with Bella's hair blowing around her head, singing along to bad AM radio, and a week of being utterly and entirely alone.

It was all I wanted, Bella by my side with the air rushing through the windows and the open road beneath us. We played house, pretended we were already out of school and on our own. Endless days of being wrapped up in each other without a care in the world.

We drove to Gold Bluffs at the tip of California, where we slept on makeshift beds in the bus, made love on the beach and smoked too much weed.

It was bliss.

My stomach knots as I look over to her now, her hair flying around her head like it did so many years ago, her bare feet resting on the cracked vinyl dashboard and a tiny smile on her face as the sun hits her just right.

I've never regretted what I've become. Transitioning into something otherworldly pretty much takes up all of your time. There was no choice, and with the changes came a state of mind that my entire life was to be this thing. This half-man. I equate it to someone finding out their cancer is in remission. An overwhelming knowledge that you have forever changed and your goal is to live the life you've been given to the fullest.

There was nothing for me to do but to embrace what I was.

But being with Bella now, well, I can honestly say that I realize I can have - that I can be - both. Maybe I would've been too young to handle it properly had I tried then. Everything happens at the time it's supposed to, so maybe this is how it was supposed to go with us all along to have it work out.

"Do you remember how mad our parents were at us when we got back?" Bella takes me from my thoughts, and I look over to see her head resting on the seat and turned towards me, a devilish smile in place.

"Hours of being yelled at in your living room, I believe."

"Until they gave up."

"Until they gave up." I nod in agreement. "They knew, Bella. They knew it would do no good to keep us apart, even if we did deserve the grounding of our lives."

"They'd have had to lock me in a cell," she laughs, and it sounds so good. "I believe I threatened to Crazy Glue myself to your naked torso."

"I'd have bought the glue." I'm thankful when we trail off, lost in memory, Bella not voicing what I bet she's thinking, that she should've done exactly that.

"I have more questions."

"I don't doubt it." I brace myself for particulars, like what type blood do I prefer, where do I get it, and what role will she play when I become a Full.

"What do you do for a living?"

Fuck. Anything but that.

"Uh, well, I have a brother I work with, we run the family business in Seattle."

"You have a brother? How do you have a brother?"

"Before my father met my mother, he'd sired another child. It's the only other he has, once he set eyes on my mother, he never sired another." That's kind of sweet, actually.

"So he's like you?"

"No, he's a Full. Became one about five years ago."

"I swear I'm smoking crack in my sleep and just don't know it. Like a sleep-eater. I'm a sleep- crackhead."

"I really hope you've never tried crack. But I wouldn't put it past you."

"Huff one tube of glue and suddenly you get a rep. So what do you do for your brother? You people have jobs?"

"Yes, we have jobs. We need money just like you. He's ah… he owns an accounting firm, I work with him and his wife as a… consultant for certain businesses."

"He has a wife?"

"Yes, an insufferable twat named Rosalie."

"Is she…?"

"No, doesn't want to be."

"And that's allowed?"

I turn to her, smirking. "Is that something you're storing away for the future, Bella?" Please. Please. Please.

"Don't turn this into a conversation about us. Or lack of us, or whatever us is. And don't sulk like that."

Fine. "Yes, Rosalie knows what Emmett is, decided she liked her mortal life just fine."

"So she doesn't care that he goes out and kills people?" The repulsion in her voice makes my stomach flip. Oh, she has no idea who the killer really is in the family.

"He doesn't. A vampire doesn't have to kill people to drink. Rosalie supplies him."

"I don't know if that's a strike against equality or a notch on our belts."

"Definitely a notch. Rosalie has a lot of power over Emmett because of it. They're bound. They're mates, even though she's human. She fucking uses it, too."

"So you consult. What kind of business are you consulting about?"

Killing bad guys. Off'ing mobsters. Getting rid of garbage. I can't tell her this, not yet. It's too much. She's not ready; I'm not ready, for that conversation.

"Waste management."

"Sounds awful."

"I like it. How'd you end up bartending?" It's out before I can stop it.

"Well, I kind of fell into it after trying a few different things." She's become quiet and I fear I've ruined our day before it's even started. We arrive at the intended beach, and I change the subject quickly.

"I thought this would be a good spot, it's got some privacy. Not too public. Lots of shade." I smile at her and wiggle my eyebrows.

"Oh! That reminds me." She reaches into her bag and pulls out a tube. "SPF 50."


Huge thanks as always to my GIF-loving pre-reader, LayAtHomeMom, and my favorite person/muse/beta, CarrieZM. Without them I am nothing.

And without you, I am just a bunch of unread words in cyberspace.