A Gay Retelling
Blood Moon
All rights reserved to the original creator, Stephenie Meyer. This work, and any that may follow, are a queer retelling for fanfiction purposes and to practice my own writing. I do not own any of the original characters that were established in the original saga.
This story will be similar to other queer retellings of The Twilight Saga, but with some different twist to characters and plots. As a reminder, the timeline for this story has been moved up from the mid two-thousands to around the mid two-thousand-and-tens (this story picks up on Tuesday, May ninth, twenty-seventeen).
Welcome back to my version of Forks. Thank you for reading, I do hope you each enjoy.
Letter from the author:
Welcome back lovely readers. I am so, so excited to be bringing you the third installment of my gay retelling of The Twilight Saga. I know it took me far longer to finish my version of New Moon (An Endless Night) than it did the first one (Twilight/A Darkened Sun). And I do apologize for that...getting through New Moon was an ORDEAL. However, I cannot promise that I'll be any quicker with this. I am going to do my best to upload at least once, if not twice, a week. Obviously, due to the plot changes I made in An Endless Night, Blood Moon will vary greatly from Eclipse. I know that the changes were drastically different than the original source material, but they certainly make for a more thrill tale (in my head, at least).
As always, I hope that you enjoy. Please feel free to leave a comment of any kind, anytime you please. I am always ready for some suggestions and constructive criticism.
If light were dark and dark were light
The moon a black hole in the blaze of night
A raven's wing as bright as tin
Then you, my love would be darker than sin..than sin…than sin
—The Invocation~Pandora's Box—Dance of the Vampires
PREFACE
ALL OUR ATTEMPTS AT SUBTERFUGE HAD BEEN IN VAIN. We were surrounded, on all sides. The monsters approached, their teeth bare, and red eyes blazing. The ring of black smoke flickered, flaring in the wind. I tried to control it, to force it into the monsters' mouths—but as I watched her strut forward, I could only gaze on in fear, the darkness would not be able to take them, not as long as my concentration was otherwise diverted—weaken by my terror. The four of us drew backward, further into the face of the mountain. Edward's arms were held out in front of me, shielding me from my executioner.
With ice in my heart, I watched him prepare to defend me. His intense concentration betrayed no hint of doubt, though he—we were outnumbered. I tried to force the fog to soar outward, to entomb them all in their own bodies. But as she drew closer, the ebony smog seeped back into the snow. My powers relied too heavily on my own emotions. I had thought of this moment for months, had planed and anticipated over it—the moment that this monster would meet her death. But it had only been her and I in this fantasies. Edward, Seth..Jacob, they weren't supposed to be here. They were never meant to be put in Death's reach. It was only supposed to be her and me. Her and I, alone. And there were ten others with her…Each poised and ready to fight to the death.
I knew that we could expect no help — at this moment, his family was fighting for their lives just as surely as we would soon be fighting for ours.
Would I ever learn the outcome of that other fight? Find out who the winners and the losers were? Would I live long enough for that?
The odds of that didn't look so great.
Black eyes, wild with their fierce craving for my death, watched for the moment when my protector's attention would be diverted. The moment when I would surely die.
Jacob and Seth growled, their bodies ridged, bracing to attack. Edward snarled at Victoria. And Riley pounced.
My arm soared across my chest.
CHAPTER ONE: NEW NORMAL
I REREAD THE SAME SENTENCE OVER AND OVER. The words made less and less sense the more I poured over them:
What ye send forth comes back to thee so ever mind the Rule of Three. Bide the Witch's law yet must, in perfect love, in perfect trust. Eight words the Wiccan Rede fulfill—An ye harm none, do what ye will.
What ye send forth comes back to thee, so ever mind the Rule of Three. Follow this with mind and heart. Merry ye meet, and merry ye part.
I snarled under my breath. The Rule of Three—one of the strongest teachings of Wicca and witchcraft, offered me no help. Essentially, it summarizing that what one put out into the world, was returned to you thrice over. If you put out good, called for healing and hope, setting only pure intentions, than you would experience such in return. Anything on the negative end, resulted in darker outcomes. How was any of that supposed to do me any good? Was I supposed to will a prosperous outcome against Victoria and the Volturi, force the pack into a reconciliation with rainbow kisses and unicorn stickers?
I sighed heavily through my nose, then debated throwing the book aside, along with the rest. Nothing was as helpful as I'd hoped. If anything, the countless books I'd read on witchcraft only created more questions than answers. What I needed were clear instructions. Guidelines for how to protect those I cared for, and defeat the enemies that sought to harm them. But there was no concrete answer for anything that I was looking for. Witchcraft, as I had discovered since the revelation that I were a witch, was as vast and differentiated as any other denomination of the thousands of other religions in existence. There was no one way to practice; not one, definitive way, to be a witch.
The practice was as unique as the witch would partook in it. None of the books that I'd been able to purchase from the small, metaphysical shop in Port Angeles, gave me any clear answers. I wondered if their words would've held more weight if they were centuries old, with yellow-worn pages of parchment, bound in animal or human skin. I doubted that any such tomes really existed. My boyfriend's father (who was a vampire, just as Edward and the rest of them were) who was nearly four centuries old, had informed me that, if any such books had ever existed, that they were likely to have been destroyed by the church over the course of its witch-hunts. Or, more terrifyingly, locked away in the deepest bowls of the Volturi tower.
As such, books like Modern Witch and Potions and Spellcasting for the Everyday Witch, would have to suffice. But there were never any real spells, charms or potions hidden within the pages. There was no magic to be gained from the printed words like the ones found in Charmed or Harry Potter. Everything was about intentions. Everything about putting out positive energy into the universe. Yes, you could brew potions—bottles of boiled herbs and moon-water that held intent, cast spells that were, essentially, prayers. Nothing told me how to control and master the actual magic that existed in me.
I understood that I was a…special case. Most witches that existed today, and throughout time, were just ordinary people. Individuals who understood that there was energy all around us, in the air, the trees, the water and earth. That trusted that energy, and did their best to manipulate it in their favor. They were not sinister hags who drained the life-force of children to gain immortality, they did not defy gravity on broomsticks, or cackle over a bubbling cauldron. They were just people who used what the earth provided to do better their situations. It was a religion, just like Christianity, Judaism, Hindu and Muslim. A faith in a higher power, an effort to use it, believe in it…
I was one of the, very, very rare exceptions to this. While most witches had no special powers like you'd expect to see in movies, television, or read in books, I did. That was because, I was the direct descendant of the first witch: Circe. She'd been the daughter of Titan Helios and Goddess Hecate. She'd been written into infamy, one of the main villains of Homer's The Odyssey—a cruel enchantress who lured men to her island with her bewitching appearance and majestic singing voice, and turned them into wild animals.
Legend went on that she first fell in love with Odysseus, who after a year spent on her island, gave her a son. It was her son that she treasured most in the world. When he'd been collected by Athena to carry on Odysseus' work, she'd been left heartbroken. She'd found love again, in Odysseus' son with his wife, Penelope, and created a spell to make herself mortal, so that she could live and die with Telemachus…
From that union, they had given birth to sons and daughters, who inherited their mother's gift of witchcraft, a gift passed on to their children, and their children, through thousands of years and unto me. That was why I had, traditional ideas, of powers. I could move things with my mind, and could manipulate the weather around me. I'd inherited another gift, one that made me more unique than I already were: I could steal other magical gifts that had been used against me. It was for this reason, that I was able to read minds, occasionally; only one mind was forever open to me. Why I could catch glimpse of the future, when I were asleep, or when I was holding Alice Cullen's (my boyfriend's favorite sibling, who was also a psychic) hand. It was also why I had gained the ability to cause the illusion of burning those I wanted to, though it was a gift I never wanted to use; the emotion behind it requiring too much hate and malice to be effective. But I'd also gain the ability to completely cut off one's senses. The latter of the two, was still difficult for me to conjure. I'd been practicing how to use that power since I'd gained it. After almost two months, though, all I could manage was summons dark clouds in my palms. The room I was in would grow colder, and if someone else was in the room with me, they'd feel sluggish, faint…but still very much aware and conscious. It was that power, I sought more than anything, to master. Because it would be what aided me in the coming battles I knew were just beyond the horizon.
I'd barely noticed, from my peripheral vision, when Seth (a werewolf), legally my step-brother (his father, a Quileute elder who had married my mother over four months ago), but who I considered a blood brother, entered the room. He rubbed his stomach and plopped himself on his bed, which sat against the Eastern wall of the room.
"You might want to stay out of the bathroom for a while," he announced.
"You're disgusting," I replied, still reading.
He laughed, lightly.
It had been just over a month since Seth, his older sister, Leah, and my step-father, Sean, had buried their mother and ex-wife, Hailey. She'd been killed by Victoria, a vampire who desired nothing more now, than to kill me. Despite what the others said, I knew that her death was my fault. Victoria blamed me for the death of her mate, James, a sadistic vampire tracker who had wanted to kill me. It had been just a game to him, one that he had been sure he'd be victorious in, one that had resulted in him being torn apart and burnt to ash. Victoria wanted nothing more than to inflict her pain onto my boyfriend, Edward. She'd been after me since March of last year, her only goal and desire, was to drain the blood from my body. Edward had tried, in the six months he'd been away from me (a horrible, idiotic, selfish choice he'd made for us, that he was still working towards rectifying) to track and kill her.
Unfortunately, Victoria had learned much from James. She was just as adept at evading capture as he had been, even more so—it was a talent that I suspected she'd had that made her special. She'd also taken on his sinister nature. She'd killed Hailey, because she'd been watching me, and had seen me in her house, with Seth, and my then-best friend, Jacob, and had concluded that killing Hailey was something that would hurt me. Because it would hurt those I cared about.
I'd also seen Hailey die, multiple times. In visions during both my waking and sleeping hours. I'd tried to warn the other werewolves of this, but they'd not gotten to Victoria in time. Seth had found Hailey's body, shriveled and cold, on the forest floor.
My mother and Sean had taken all the necessary steps they could, to help him. He was living with us, full time now, and enrolled at the same high school I attended. He was in therapy. Edward's father, Carlisle, had connections to a wonderful psychologist that Seth saw every week. And while he couldn't share the more…disturbing details of who we were, and how he'd stumbled upon his mother's dead body, he was able to express the overarching feelings.
I couldn't imagine the suffering that he was in. It didn't matter that I'd seen it, or that I were responsible, what mattered only, was that he had to endure it. There was nothing I could do to alleviate him from that pain. I could only be there when he needed me. However he needed me. I'd taken the role of third…fourth parent, in regards to Seth. I couldn't help it, it was what came natural to me. To nurture and care for him, and see to it that I was there for any need. I packed his lunches, made sure that he was doing well in each classes, helped him with his homework, and remained a present in his life, through the good moments, and moments that were not so good.
It was not a role I played in alone. Along with our parents, who watched over him as intently as I did, were our friends. Seth's transition from the school on the reservation to Forks High was easier than mine had been. It helped that I already had amazing friends, like Angela, Ben, MaKayla, Michelle, Kyle and Tony, that Seth already knew, thanks to his involvement in the musical production the school had put on earlier in the spring, to already be there with him. They'd ascended on him, gracefully, warmingly, as if they'd know him for years.
And then there were Edward and the rest of his family. Edward fell into a more similar role with me, in that of a more surrogate parent of sorts. He and Seth could talk about sports, dribble a basketball and shoot hoops, play video games (even into the early hours of dawn) but also talk. Edward was as sensitive to Seth's true needs as I were. He listened. Though he claimed that he barely remembered, Edward had lost his first mother, Elizabeth, back when he'd been human, in nineteen-eighteen. I'd accidentally stumbled upon moments, mostly when I woke up and noticed that Edward wasn't in the bed, when Edward had been comforting Seth, his alabaster arms wrapped around Seth, letting him gently cry into his shoulder…I'd let them have these moments, both comforted and ashamed. Comforted: because Seth trusted Edward enough, even though they were supposed to be sworn enemies, to be vulnerable. And Edward could talk to him, and offer solace and understanding.
Ashamed: Because it was nice not to feel the added pressure alone, as a teenager themselves. And, because it meant Seth and I would be fine once I made the change.
The change: another cause for Seth's current hardships. I would be becoming a vampire, sooner or later. The exact timeline was still hazy. At the minimum of three months, maybe seven, at most, fifteen. Either way that it was put, my time as a human, was coming to a close. Three months or fifteen, either way, the treaty broken.
The treaty: a great source on contention, now, in my life. It had been established nearly one-hundred-years-ago, between Carlisle and Ephraim Black (Jacob's great-grandfather, and fellow werewolf) that the Cullens would not only avoid killing on their lands, or the lands around, but would not bite another human (i.e. make another vampire). Not while in the surrounding area. Though that fact was all but null-and-void since, not matter where the transformation occurred, I would still be considered "Forks people," having been born there.
There was also the fact that, as I was already a witch; already powerful enough to stand my own ground a werewolf, a vampire, or gathering of either, and that as a vampire, I would likely be far more gifted. It was a fear that the pack of the wolves, Sam Uley, who was high on my hit list, feared above all rest. He worried that they would not be able to stop me, if I became a menace to the good people of Forks and adjoining Indigenous reservation. That I would be above, even the full pack. It was the fear that had led my brother to remove himself from the pack—an action he'd felt force to taken; one that had cost him everything he'd ever known.
It was another guilt, a warranted one, that was added to my shoulders. It was my decision to welcome Edward, and his family, back into my life even after the damaged they'd brought. My choice to join them, in the truest form conceivable, that had torn Seth from his heritage, forced him into separation along with me.
I turned my eyes away from my page, and towards him. He was leaning down on his pillow, arms stretched out in front of him, hands holding onto this phone. His thumbs danced across the screen wildly, a soft smile spread across his face. The phone's glow shone brightly on the lights of this eyes, that had once remained there permanently, until his mother's death, that were awoken when it came to a singular person.
One of my dearest friends: Jessica Stanley.
Last year, she'd been dating Luke Martin, who had graduated the same year and gone off to college in Texas. They'd attempted to make long-distance work, but had been unsuccessful. I could only briefly, thanks to my dark slumber of near narcotic darkness I'd conjured during Edward' departure, recall that happening before all hell had broken loose. She'd all but jumped on Seth on his first day at school.
They were… a thing now…neither one of them ready to put a specific label on the relationship. To me, it was all but clear. They were together. Jess would graze her fingers over his arm at lunch, while he held her hand. He walked to her classes when he could, and held her books and bag. She doted on him, and her eyes were the first to look for trouble when he was involved.
It had been through Edward's ability to read minds, that I saw the memory of them kissing in Seth's head. He'd been trying not think about it, knowing that we'd each see, but couldn't help himself.
He'd been right to try and conceal it. Edward and I hand't played the cool, older brother, card in that instance. We'd played the parent card.
When did this happen?
Are you okay? Did you want to kiss her?
Did she pressure you?
Appreciatively, Seth had gotten pissed.
Edward and I had immediately sat down in our bed, eyes cast down to the ground, apologetic, waiting for Seth to settle down.
It was…dangerous, when any of the werewolves got too agitated. They couldn't help it—the transformation would just occur.
When Seth had calmed down enough, we'd apologized in unison. We assured Seth that we would stay out of it, and that he could tell us, only what he wanted to. Edward assured that he would force Seth's thoughts out his mind, protecting themselves from me in return.
Edward had made good on this promise, Seth was all but absent from us. I, on the other hand, caught his thoughts clearly at random intervals.
Jess…
Ugh.
I'd broken my promise to Seth, only once, when I gently asked Jessica about the two before one of our rare classes alone began.
"He told you?" she'd asked, guiltily.
I'd lied smoothly. "Brother's intuition."
Jess had vomited everything. The texts, secret calls…feeling like Romeo and Juliet (how very luck for her, that she had no inkling of what that was like), and the just already "connected," feeling that was there between them. I'd nodded, kept my face kind…despite the natural feeling of making it snarl, and let her tell me everything.
I swore her to secret, letting her known that Seth would be upset if I knew everything, to aid me in keeping this from him. It wasn't that I was opposed, exactly, to the idea of her with Seth. I loved her. She was a fierce friend. But I was worried that, a relationship, of any-kind, would be too much for him at the moment.
Edward had sensed that worry omitting from me in his car last Friday afternoon.
"You've got to let them fly from the nest, at some point," he cooed in my ear.
"Are you not as worried as I am?" I asked, while watching Seth wrap his arms around Jess' waist, resting his forehead down to her's as they parted for the day.
Edward replied as serious as I'd been. "Of course, I'm worried. Graduation is just over a month away. I don't want him to get hurt, not while he's still dealing with everything. But—"
"But?" I answered, looking down into his eyes. He wrapped his arm around him, pulling me into him, his other hand gently caressing my face.
"If she's helping him feel anything that is good, isn't he earned that? Don't those bright, fluttering moments count, against the darkness? Aren't five minutes of something special not better than a lifetime of nothing?" He asked, loosely quoting my mother and I's favorite movies.
I'd groaned, and rested my forehead on top of Edward's.
"He's just dealing with enough."
"I know, Love. But we promised him, we'd stay out of it. We need to trust him, to know what he needs."
I groaned again. "I hate when you're right."
Edward laughed, and pressed his lips to my throat.
Seth's thumb scrolled up on the screen. The light faded as he gazed upon another stream of texts. As the feeling and temperature in the room fell, I knew what the text stream was. The "wOlF pAcK" group chat. Texts I knew had gone unanswered.
Seth's decision to leave the pack, regardless of the reasons, caused only more pain. It was as miserable as cutting off blood-family members, to go on with life not knowing what was happening with them, them not knowing what was going on with you. Though he'd willing parted, had caused his pain to be theirs', a desperate part of him clung to the hope that they would forgive him, and that he'd be able to rejoin, with their assurance that no harm would befall me, the Cullens or my mother.
It was a vain hope. I was Public-Enemy-Number-One. Any association with me, befitted the penalty for my crime.
I tossed my book over on Edward's side, and made my way across the room. I sat on the edge of his bed, plopping both my hands on his knee.
"Seth," I said, my voice soft as a whisper. "We have tried, everything. They don't want to listen. They don't care what I have to say."
Seth lips ran from under his lips, over his teeth, and his eyes casted downward.
I shook my head. "Seth. I told you. If you need to go back, you can. We'd all understand. No strings attached. It'll be fine. I'll be—"
"I'm not leaving you." Seth snarled, his warm eyes cold. "How many times do I have to tell you?"
I leaned back, slumping my shoulders behind me, but keeping my hands over his knee. "I know. I'm sorry. I just don't want you to hurt. Anymore than you are."
He rolled his eyes, groaning loudly into his pillow.
"Beau," he said annoyed, "it's annoying and shitty how they're handling this, but it doesn't matter. I'm not going to sit back and watch you all try to kill each other. They can't touch you, not as long as I'm loyal to you and the Cullens."
I sighed through my nose. It was Seth's only card to play, to prevent a war from raging on between us and the wolves. It went against every tribal law to kill a brother wolf, even when the brother had committed treason. It caused a brutal, near lethal pain upon every other wolf, that they carried onto their human form, throughout the remainder of their days. A traitor wolf, Seth had explain to myself and Edward's family, "would need to be subdued—a part of him willing, desperate to be. It's our nature to want to preserve each other, to make sure that any of us are hurt or killed. It causes a pain that spans generations, and weakens those who come next—born into them is a sense of distrust and loyalty.
"But I won't ever be willing, to go back, not unless they promise to keep you all safe. If they swear that they will not harm you, then I can go back. But if they stay on their course, they will have to kill me first. And they know that you'll kill them as they kill you as a result."
We'd all tried to reason with him, Esme and Carlisle nearly as fierce as Edward and I. It was only thanks to Jasper's ability to control the moods of those around him, that Seth did not explode into his wolf form.
There was no reasoning with him. He'd made his choice, and we would not be able to budge him on it, neither would the wolves.
It was unfair, cruel and wretched. But either way. Seth was the white flag of truce.
"I know. I'm sorry."
Seth groaned. He threw his pillow off his had and rose to face me.
"The only thing we haven't done, is go down there ourselves," I reminded him. "And we both know why that would be a bad idea."
His voice was mumbled, "because they hate us."
My brows scrunched together and I shook my head, pressing down on his knees harder. "No. They don't hate you. They hate me."
"Pretty sure, Jacob telling us that we're the enemies now, counts as them hating me."
"Jacob only said that to guilt you—and because Sam made him. Nobody hates you, Seth. No body could ever." My voice dropped a tenor deeper, and came out slowly, masked with dark sarcasm. "Now, a wicked witch on the other hand, that's someone they can easily hate."
"Don't call yourself that," Seth ordered.
I rolled my eyes. "We both know I kinda enjoy the sound of it."
His mouth opened at the precise moment the smoke alarm rang throughout the house. Seth and I shot to our feet, and ran from the room.
Our feet danced along the stairs as we descended, barely touching the wood. The smoke was wafting through the family room into the hallway, originating from the kitchen. I ran through the thick, grey clouds, and found the single most horrifying thing that I could imagine: my mother, apron around her chest, in my kitchen—attempting to cook. My mom was fanning the microwave as smoke blew out from its mouth like a dragon.
"Mom," I cried, a mixture of concern and annoyance. I held my hand out, and a dishrag flew into my hand from the faucet's neck. I joined my mother in fanning the smoke away, while Seth ran across the small kitchen to open the backdoor and window.
"I don't"…cough… know what happened?" My mother cried.
My squinted against the smoke. I peered into the microwave—the small light giving me my only glimpse as to what might had caused it to blow up.
A jar of marinara sauce, metal top in all, sitting in the middle on the glass plate.
"Mom," I chastised, rushing forward to grab the ruined jar with the dishtowel, before dropping it into the sink, and letting the cool water run over it.
"What did I do?"
My voice was wrought in annoyance. "You don't put metal in the microwave," explained. "It blows up."
"Since when?"
"Since ever."
"Well I know that now," she threw at me, waving her hands in front of her.
The sound of sizzling water pierced through my ears. My eyes turned to the stove, where I saw a pot of water, boiling over onto it. I moved quickly again, turning off the burner and moving the pot to another. I peered down into it with judgmental speculation. A tight, clumpy, mushy, coil of noddles swirled in the water.
"What did I do wrong to them?"
"It helps to stir it, Mother," I explained, exhasberated. I dipped my finger in the scorching water, then brought it to my mouth. "And add salt to the water."
I saw my mother's eyes narrow through the thinning smoke.
"Watch it."
I rolled my eyes at her. I peered again into the pot. There was no salvaging it. I didn't have all the ingredients to make a marinara, nor Alfredo Sauce, if I were to try and make another batch.
"Can you save it" My mother asked, pitifully.
I shook my head. "No. Call it."
"Fife-seventeen," Seth answered.
Our lips first quiver as the three of us stared at one another, before breaking open into chuckles, than an all-out laugh.
"They're easier ways to kill us," I joked.
"We're you planning on poisoning us, or setting the house on fire, and making it look like an accident?" Seth added.
My mother scoffed. "I try to do a nice thing, and it just goes and blows up in my face," she stage shouted, throwing her hands up towards the ruined microwave. "Literally," she added with a laugh.
Seth and I laughed again. How my mother had lasted, fourteen years alone to fend for herself I did not know. I suspected many, frozen, microwaveable-safe, dinners, takeout, or dinner with Billy and Jacob…
It was as if as if my mother could hear their names play out in my head.
Billy and Jacob.
Another, more painful, thorn in my side. Billy Black, and his only son, Jacob had once been our family's closest friends. They were more like relatives, really. My family had lived in Forks since its initial settlement. From when it had first been a logging road, to what it was now. My great-grandfather, Alexander Bishop, had even been elected as the town's first chief. From what I knew from Edward, his family, and even Jacob, was that he'd been a remarkable man. Someone who extruded compassion, gentleness, who held a strong since of conviction and fairness. A fierce protector over those he loved, and who had become a trusted friend to the Quileute tribe, especial to the tribe's chief, Ephraim Black.
The Bishops had known the Blacks for all that time. Billy and my mother had been best friends growing up, so much like brother and sister. For long while, when my father had taken me with him from Forks after my parents' divorce (a strange, unnecessary custody arrangement made between the two of them, in my mother's attempt to keep me shielded from the world of the paranormal as long as she possibly could) they were the closest thing to family that she had.
That was gone now. I could see the physical toll that this was all taking on her. Her shoulders slumped downward, as if the force of grief were permentatly weighing down on her. There was the fact that she'd lost her relationship with Billy and his children as a result. There was the fact that she'd lost another close friend, when Hailey Clearwater had been killed by Victoria, the added knowing how she had died, and what had killed her. Knowing that she'd helped cover things up, as I'd learnt she'd done with Victoria's other victims, and being fully in the know of what the Cullens were, and how involved I already were—how much further involved I was set to be.
She knew everything now. There were no secrets. The four of us now vowed to be fully open and honest going forward, once Seth had officially and permanently moved in. So my mother knew even more about Victoria, Seth's departure from the pack, and she even knew about the Volturi. I'd had to tell her about them, wrong as it was, in order to explain to her everything we were—our family and its legacy.
It wasn't like she hadn't suspected or been totally in the dark. My mother had know about the werewolves and the Cullens before I'd even been born. My grandfather, Beaufort Bishop, for who I was named after, had left my mother a letter right before his fatal car accident—as if he'd known that it was set to happen, explaining as best he could, the true realities of the world our family fell in. A world were vampires, werewolves and witches were anything but fictitious. She hadn't know about the witch thing, until I'd been the one to tell her. She'd taken it better than I'd initially anticipated, but still, she'd not accepted it so freely as I had.
I'd been shocked, of course, when Aro, leader of the malevolent royal family of vampires and their insidious guard, had explained to me what I were. But it had made sense, too much sense. I'd always been drawn to the darker, more macabre aspects of life, even as a young child. I'd innately always loved stories, movies and television shows that featured witches, had been obsessed with the histories of witch-hunts, including the dark trials of Salem Village where another ancestor of mine had been hanged.
When the initial shock had settled, I dove into learning everything I could about witchcraft. Of course, it wasn't at all what I had been hoping for. But still, I practiced with the powers I had, used them when I could, and embraced the idea of being a witch. My mother on the other hand, who was one herself, ran from the idea. She had her own gifts, that she couldn't run away from, her ability to know people to their core, the ability to gaze into their souls, and her ability to also get glimpses of the future in her dreams. She'd explained to me, that first morning back from my rescue mission to save Edward from the Italian monsters, that she'd seen the moment her mother got sick, the moment she would cross over into whatever else waiting for us all. She'd seen my father and his parents move into town, had seen them getting married, and had seen me, long before I'd been born.
She'd shared a vision with Alice and I as well—one that had me chewing on the inside of my cheek whenever I thought of it. Her and I had seen in back when I was in the hospital in Phoenix, recovering from James' attack. I couldn't be sure when Alice had seen it, if it had been right before, during or after, but my mother and I's shared vision had been of me marrying Edward. Even now, the imaged caused a slew of conflicting emotions to surge in me.
When it came to Edward, the word boyfriend had always felt nearly contrite. It was the wrong word. His placement in my life deserved something more meaningful, more forceful. Hokey phrases, such as soulmates and destiny, that sounded even more contrive coming from a teenager, came to mind. But there was another titled that Edward was ready to bestow onto the two of us: husbands.
I couldn't, fully, blame him for being ready for what that would mean. One, when he'd been human—if I had been born back then, and if gay people had the same rights they did in the modern world, we'd likely already be planning for a summer wedding. That's what would've been expected of us, to get married and go off to college together, though that order seemed out of place for me.
Two, he'd been alone for so long. He'd spent over a century with his family, each of whom, had found their soulmates. He'd seen them marry one another, surrounded by their wide menagerie of vampire friends and extended family, celebrated, blissfully content. He'd not even know he was gay until I'd literally stumbled into his life. My existence awoken in him a strong desire, stronger than the wanting of my blood, it was the desire to hold, treasure and cherish. The moment he'd accepted that he was in love with me, it was over for him. There would be no one else, in this life or the next. He'd only ever want me. Only I would ever hold his heart.
However, he was still working on gaining my trust back in full for the ordeal he'd forced us each into after my disastrous eighteenth birthday party this past September. He'd broken things off and left me, along with his family, thinking it was what was better for me. He'd been sorely mistaken. Neither of us had handled the situation well. It had very nearly killed us, on multiple occasions. And I knew that we'd never be able to exit the other's life.
Aro had reveled that Edward and I were, indeed, soulmates. One soul, split into two bodies, if those myths and legends were to be believed. While I knew this, and knew that Edward regretted leaving me—would regret it for as long as he continued to exist, I was still learning how to trust him again, and myself. And while it hadn't take him long to earn almost all of my trust back (he didn't need to know how precisely close he was to being in the clear—he could squirm a little while longer) there was still that shred of doubt I could not fully silence.
I didn't think it was a good idea to begin a marriage, if either of the two involved, had any inkling of hesitation in their mind. So I needed some more time—in my heart I knew that I was going to marry him, someday. I just needed to silence that one part of my head before I began looking for a ring.
Of course, this complicated the already fragile timeline that had been created around my transformation from mortal to vampire. Edward wanted to be the one to make the change, not his father. But, he wanted me to be his husband first. He'd already explain that it was how he'd envisioned it happening. And I couldn't disagree. I wanted him to be the one to change me. But I wasn't sure when the whole marriage thing would happen.
Our relationship had changed dramatically from how it had once been, even though he'd only been back over a month. He was no longer my world, but rather a part of it (a rather large part, but details only muddled things). We were working on creating a healthy balance as we began to rebuild our relationship. We spent time apart from one another—me with my friends, him with his family. We made it a point to do a "date night," out of town once a week, and I did not complain when he took me to outlandishly fancy restaurants where the menu was written out in French. It was a rule, that on those nights we focused on only each other. We didn't let ourselves worry about everything that there was to worry about—we let ourselves be selfish. It wasn't a hard thing to achieve. Edward was more open with his feelings, granted he really wasn't able to hide things from me anymore, what with his mind exposed to me all the time.
But he told me things, because he wanted to, and because he knew that being completely honest, at all times, was what I expected, what I absolutely deserved. The same applied to him. They hadn't happened often, but occasionally we'd needed to have uncomfortable conversations about how I was feeling and or needing. We worked through those moments together. Which was good.
I had a lot on my mind.
But he was gracious and understanding. We were equal partners now. No one person was the single driver, the other a passenger. We drove our relationship together. And as I reflected on that, the word husband didn't sound so bad…
On top of what was going on in my personal life, there was still school to attend to. I had thrown myself into every comity that I could, and thanks to my unwanted popularity, had been put in charge of most. Prom was next week, and yearbooks would need to be accounted for and passed out accordingly—then finals, graduation rehearsal, the actual event…and then things became less clear.
So lots to do, lots to worry about, with very little time to do anything about everything. The front door opened, and I laughed when I heard Sean swear under his breath.
"We're in the kitchen," Seth called out, smiling at my mom. She narrowed her eyes at him playfully.
Sean walked into the still smoke ridden kitchen with his mouth hanging open. He looked around, taking in everything, before his eyes fell on my mom.
"Oh, Honey," he moaned. "What the hell happened?"
"I blew up the microwave," my mother admitted sheepishly.
Sean nodded his head as he stared at the ruined piece of machinery. "I can see that. How?"
"She put a jar of pasta sauce in it with the top still on," I answered for her. Lightly, she elbowed me in my side.
Sean laughed, shaking his head. "That sounds about right."
My mother's arms crossed over her chest as she stared at the boxes that Sean was holding in his hands. "What's that?" she asked, jutting out her chin.
Sean's smile grew. "Well, when you texted me that you were making dinner tonight…I thought it might be a good idea to bring backup," he said lifting the pizza boxes up to his chest.
My mother's eyes narrowed. "So your wife tells you she's making dinner, and your instinct is to bring pizza home, in case she fails?"
"Well, his instincts were correct," I reminded her as Sean smiled guiltily. That earned me another elbow in the side. I laughed. Sean placed the pizzas on the table and walked over to my mom. He wrapped his arms around the small of her back and brought her closer to him. Despite herself, she smiled up at him.
"Don't I get points for knowing my wife so well?" he asked, one eye brow risen suspecively.
My mom wrapped her arms around his waist and nodded her head. "You do," she answered before lightly pressing her lips over his. Seth mock gagged.
I would be forever indebted to Sean Clearwater. Not only had he reminded my mother that true love existed, had given her the happily ever after that she'd so deserved, but he had been her rock through all of this. Even though he was grieving, he was always there for my mother. She didn't face anything alone. Her walls were gone. She trusted him unequivitably, loved him just as passionately. Sean was there to help her navigate through the world of the supernatural; to help her cope with what had happened to Hailey, with what Seth was, and what her and I were as well. He was there to help shoulder the burden that had fallen onto her. I was sure that he, was the only reason, she'd not fallen off the deep end.
Mom and Sean pulled away from each other, still smiling. My mom patted her hands over the apron and looked around the messy state that the kitchen were in.
"Well, you boys go ahead and eat, I'll clean up."
I shook my head, gently guiding her out of my kitchen. "That's fine, Mom. You've done enough. Trust me."
She scoffed while untying her hair from its messy bun; it fell to her back in bright, sunny waves. "Spoken like a true smart ass," she jested. I laughed.
Seth got three plates from one of the cabinets, handing one each to my mom and Sean, leaving the other on the table for me. He took the top box and waltzed towards the living room.
"Thanks for sharing," Sean called out to his son.
"You're welcome," Seth returned, already planted in his usual seat.
My mom shook her head. "I don't know where he puts it all," she mentioned, speaking of how my brother could put away and obscene amount of food and still be hungry thirty-minutes later. A gift granted by being a werewolf. He could eat anything, and it would never show.
"Teenage boys eat like pigs," Sean explained, taking two slices from the box and plopping them on his plate.
"Beau never ate like that."
"That's because Beau runs on iced coffee," Sean quipped.
I turned my head over my shoulder. "And spite," I reminded him. He chuckled.
"And spite," he repeated. He waited for my mother while I began to clean what I could. The microwave would need to be removed, which was something I'd leave for him or Seth to deal with.
"When's Edward coming back from his…er…trip," Sean asked, grabbing two sets of napkins. I sighed. Sean really had helped ease my mother with the whole vampire thing. Even though she'd always known that the Cullens were more than they appeared, it was still a challenge for at times, to wrap her head around the entire concept. There were certain aspects that she was, understandably, still uncomfortable with. The main thing being the whole blood-drinking part. She was grateful that they only drank from animals, but was still put off by the notion. Worse, slightly uncomfortable knowing that it wouldn't be long until I was the one hunting down wildly coyotes, bears and mountain lions.
Her and I hadn't really talked about that since the first day I'd been back. She'd already suspected that becoming a vampire was what I'd already decided. And it was difficult for her to completely process and accept that. For the time being, I knew that she didn't want to think of that, that she'd rather put off the idea until the time finally arrived.
"He, Esme and Alice should be back before too long," I answered as I began scrubbing the pot with soap and hot water.
"Where did they go this time?" Sean asked, actually curious.
"I think somewhere outside of Vancouver," I answered, my face growing warm with blush—I didn't want to say too much in front of my mom. It was best to leave some details as far out as possible.
Sean hadn't caught on. "Did they say what they were hunting?" For some reason, the idea of them hunting animals didn't freak Sean out. Maybe because he was a hunter as well? Only, he used a rifle to kill his prey.
"Can we not talk about that while we're eating please?" Mom begged. I turned my head back over my shoulder, and saw my mom grimacing. Sean bit down on his bottom lip and nodded.
"Of course."
I heard Seth approaching from the living room. His arms were bent at the elbow, and hoisted high over his chest, his fingers wiggled like tentacles. And he spoke in a horrific attempt at a Romanian accent.
"I vont to suck your blood."
"Seth Daniel Clearwater," my mother chastised.
Seths hands shot up, palms out. "Sorry, Charley." But he was smiling. And I saw a small smile spread over my mother's lips. She couldn't stay upset with Seth if her life depended on it.
"They don't talk like that," I amended playfully, flicking a pile of suds Seth's way. He dodged it nimbly.
"Boys," Sean warned, "play nice."
"Yes sir," Seth and I said in unison, but still smirking at one another.
It was then I heard his voice.
Honey, I'm home, his thought rang out.
"Speak of the angel," I murmured under my breath, smiling. I dried my hands over my shirt before heading into the hallway. The door opened with a mere flick of my wrist.
Edward was standing at the foot of the porch. His smiling face beamed up at me. He was the only one who always loved when I used magic. I walked along the length of the hallway towards the open door. I would've hugged him, but I noticed a tray of drinks that he carried in one of his hands.
"What's this?" I asked.
He shrugged. "I stopped at the coffee shop you like, I thought everyone would like a little something." My favorite coffee shop was in Port Angeles, though with the way Edward like to drive, I doubted that the ice in my drink had anytime to melt. I leaned my head down and pressed my lips to his.
"Thank you," I whispered, "that was very sweet." I led him inside where he was greeted with a chorus of hellos. It was a great help that, even with knowing what Edward was, my mother couldn't help but be charmed by him. She treated him just the same as she had before she'd known the vampire secret. That was also just her personality, to treat people based on who she knew them to be. And she knew that she could trust Edward, and that he would be there to take care of me when she no longer was.
Edward entered into the living room, passing out the drinks he'd brought.
"Hi Charley," he greeted brightly, smiling his most dazzling smile at her. He handed her a large, white cup. "It's hibiscus and blackberry tea. The barista said it was the perfect drink to help you unwind after a long day," Edward explained. My mother smiled up at him.
"Thank you, Edward. You didn't have to."
Edward shrugged. "I can't be sure, but I'd wager that poured over some ice with Vodka would also help with the unwinding."
My mother laughed, nodding her head approvingly. "I may have to test that hypothesis out."
Edward laughed with her before turning to Sean. He handed him his drink. "The last time I was over you still had that cough, so this is a peppermint tea."
"Thanks, Edward. I appreciate it." Edward nodded before turn to Seth. I hadn't noticed that he'd been holding one hand behind his back. He smirked at Seth before handing him a small cup of what appeared to be whipped cream. Seth stared down at the cup, confused.
"What's this?"
Edward's smile grew wider. "They call it a Pup Cup."
Both of my hands flew over my mouth as I tried to stifle the my laughter. Seth's mouth dropped wide open. I heard Sean chortled beside my mother. Seth narrowed his eyes up at Edward before lapping up the whip cream just like a dog.
"Seth!" my mother chided while Edward just laughed. He shook his head, parts of his bronze hair falling over into his face. He handed Seth his actual drink.
"Hot chocolate with cinnamon, just how you prefer."
"How come Beau gets coffee?"
I approached and took the last drink from the tray, placing my lips around the straw and inhaling the cold beverage.
"You're hyper enough as it is," Edward told him. "And besides, your brother needs an exceptionally large amount of caffeine to remain a pleasant person," he threw at me with a smile.
I scowled at him, while still drinking.
Edward smiled at me. "I didn't mean to interrupt dinner," he explained.
I shook my head. "I haven't started eating yet. I'm still cleaning up the kitchen." I gestured my head for him to follow. When it was just us in the kitchen Edward scooped me up in his arms, hoisted me from my feet, and spun me around. He lowered me back on my feet and leaned up to kiss me.
I missed you.
I smiled into the kiss. "Miss you too," I nearly purred.
Edward and I had thought he'd lost the desire for my blood after he'd tasted it when he'd sucked away the venom from James' bite, but we'd both been wrong. The desire still hid in the darkest, deepest abyss of his mind, singing out in a sinister whisper for him to indulge himself fully. Him thinking that I were dead had been what silenced that part of him entirely. When I had saved him in Voulteera, once we'd safely made our way from the city, had been when we'd each realized that my blood did not cause him to burn.
Yes, it still smelt the same to him. But its song was different, now. It called out pleasantly, like a lullaby. It was what would allow him to find me, even lost in a sea of thousands, in an instant.
Another part of him that had been permanently silenced since his return, was Hyde. Hyde was the darker, alter-ego I'd given Edward when we'd first met—the part of him that lied, convincing him that he was a monster. He was gone now. Forever.
And so now, Edward did not fear that he'd ever physically harm me. His entire being was devoted to preventing any harm, physical, mental, emotionally…he was lighter with me. More human. Though sometimes he could get carried away, and not be gentle at all. Not that I was complaining about that.
What happened in here? He wondered.
"Mom tried to cook," I whispered in his ear.
His eyes widened and his body jerked back slightly in my grasp. Why on earth would she do that? Was she planning on killing you?
I laughed, bitting down on my lip.
"No," I whispered. "I get the feeling that she's trying to be more…domestic, motherly. For Seth."
The meaning behind my words gripped us both, and Edward tightened his hold around me. He craned his neck and kissed my throat.
"Have you received anymore acceptance letters?" he asked, changing the subject.
I shook my head. "No. But I've been accepted to ten schools already. So, I'm all set."
He stared up me, curiosity coating his bright, golden eyes. "Have you picked a school yet?"
I shook my head. I'd applied to a number of schools in his absence; another tactic I'd taken to prevent me from thinking about him. I'd been accepted into a range of schools, each in different parts of the country. I had been accepted into Juilliard—my self-tape audition having secured me the spot. It had helped that I'd been as grief-stricken and crazed as the character and song I'd chosen. That was a hard school to think about turning down, even if I would only be there for a semester. It had been a childhood dream of mine, to become a star on Broadway, and thirteen-year-old me would've been inconsolable if he'd known we'd gotten in.
But that dream seemed a little silly now; now that I were older and had a better appreciation for what truly mattered in this life. Now that I had better, more fulfilling dreams.
The Universities of Miami and San Diego were completely out. Even with my gift of altering the weather, I doubted I could keep the sun away from those places. Edward would only be able to come out at night. Like a real vampire.
I'd made it into Bowdoin College in Maine, and Boston College—lost out on Harvard. Maine and Massachusetts seemed like good places to go. Their weather was slightly more identical to Forks than other locations. If Edward was going to be attending a semester or two of college with me, he should also be able to enjoy it.
I explained this to him as I finished cleaning around the kitchen. Edward pondered on the choices I had elected towards him, specifically the reason why those were the two I were most considering.
"What about somewhere in New Hampshire?" he suggested. I cocked my head to the side as my brows pulled together, trying to remember if I'd even applied anywhere in that state.
I shook my head. "Nope. I didn't apply anywhere there."
Edward nodded. He leaned his back and rested one foot up against the wall beside me. His hands slid slowly into his pockets, and he pursed his lips. "True. But there are still some schools that are accepting deserving applicants."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Such as?"
His crooked-smile gleamed up at me. "Dartmouth," he said shrugging.
My responding chuckle was instantaneous. "Dartmouth?" I snickered again.
Edward smiled widely now, flashing his teeth. "What?" he asked with wide eyes.
My mouth fell open in a smile, my tongue curling and resting against my bottom teeth to keep me from speaking.
Edward danced over to me, wrapping me his arms. He stared up at me, still smiling. "Think of the stories. Everyone in this poor, provincial town will be buzzing that handsome, funny, Beau is going off to Dartmouth."
I laughed. "You have got to stop using my favorite movies against me."
He laughed along with me. "Unlimited, your future is unlimited," he began singing.
"Stop," I begged, still laughing, forcing his arms down. "I wasn't Harvard material," I told him. "So I doubt I'm Dartmouth material."
"You applied to Harvard?" he asked, perplexed.
"Elle Woods would've expected nothing less," I assured him.
His perplexed face grew. "And they didn't let you in?"
"Nope," I said, popping the p. "The official rejection arrived yesterday."
He suddenly looked offended. "They're clearly not the establishment they were when I attended. Fools. Downright, foolish dewdroppers I tell you."
I laughed again, leaning my back against the sink with one hand resting over my thumping heart. I loved that he resorted to talking like he had back when he were human whenever he was upset. The briefest hint of a classic, Chicago accent, rising along with it.
He still stared down at the floor, his bottom lip pouted over the top, eyes still confused.
Which imbecile is put in charge of acceptations. Clearly daft, how could they not let him in?
I was shaking my head at him as I pulled him into me. He rested his hands on my chest, and stared up at me in bewilderment.
You did Elle proud.
I was still smiling when I leaned down to kiss him.
"You are very, very biased," I reminded him.
He shook his head. "Nope," he said before kissing me again. "I just know the inhumanly exceptional when I see it." He pulled away, and I saw the slightest glimpse of guilt in his eye.
"What?"
"Well." he sighed. "You may have already applied to Dartmouth?"
I raised my eyebrows. "And when was this? Was I drunk or something?"
Edward's lips puckered towards one side of his mouth.
"Edward," I warned.
We said the answer at the same time.
Alice
"Alice."
Ahhhh…that Alice. She really did love her little surprises.
I craned my neck around, cracking it along the way. "And how did Alice manage to pull that off?" I asked, not wanting to know the answer.
You'll be pleased to know that the new Cullen Wing of the library is dedicated fully to their Anthropological, Mythological, Occult and Literature departments. Coming to you Fall of Twenty-Seventeen. He smiled up at me wearily as my face darkened.
"She bribed them?"
"Advised them," Edward corrected, his right pointer finger pointing up.
I narrowed my eyes at him.
"But clearly, the advisement should've gone to Harvard. Those bluenose, wet blanket, rag-a-muffins clearly need a better library." I smiled down at him, and kissed him again.
Edward's thoughts drifted from the kiss, as the works omitting from the television's speakers poured in.
Another seven bodies were discovered earlier this afternoon at along Elliot Bay. Police on scene have yet to confirm if the conditions of these bodies match the five found last week. Now the names of these victims have been releases. Dental Records confirmed that the five charred bodies discovered behind the old Fillmore Factory belong to Maureen Gardiner, Geoffrey Campbell, Grace Razi, Michelle O'Connell, Ronald Albrook.
Edward turned his head, and walked towards the living room. I followed close behind. Someone had turned on the news while Edward and I were in the kitchen. The news anchor was still talking when Edward and I entered, leaning against the archway.
"...the unlikely disappearances, always in the night, the poorly disposed-of corpses, the lack of other evidence. . . . Yes, someone brand-new. And no one seems to be taking responsibility for the neophyte….Police are yet to determine whether this an act of terrorism, a rise in gang activity, or the work of a rabid serial killer. Tune in at nine for more on the story. Back to you, Ted—"
My mother sighed, shaking her head. "I haven't seen anything this bad since, Ridgeway."
Sean nodded, his face grim. "I just hope whatever's down there, doesn't make it's way up here."
"What's this all about?" Edward asked, instantly focused on their thoughts. Together, with his, a jumble in my head.
"They're not sure," my mother began to explain. "The murder rate in Seattle has skyrocketed this year. They didn't notice at first, there wasn't a pattern. The MOs were all different. But in the past few months, everything has just exploded. People with non common interests or circles started to go missing. Sometimes their bodies would show up, other times not…
Riley Biers, my mother thought.
He'd been a senior when I'd arrived to Forks. A very outgoing, charismatic, impressionable person. He'd gone missing, not a month after he'd graduated and left early for summer classes. His parents had stormed into my mother's station when they'd not been able to get answers in Seattle. She'd done all she could. She'd contacted the Seattle PD, and the other neighboring cities and towns, getting his name and photo out, offering her services, day or night—but she knew all that they knew.
His body was still missing.
The Biers had moved away, not long after I'd taken Riley's old bikes for Seth and Jake to fix. My mother had assured them that she would be in touch. Her and I had each seen the look in Mr. and Mrs. Biers eyes.
They didn't want her to.
They wanted to move on.
To forget.
It was more guilt on her, that she could never tell Alana Biers what became of her eldest son.
Edward grew more concerned as my mothers muddled thoughts dragged themselves through his head. He thought back on what she'd said, what he could read from her thoughts, what he'd heard on the news. He compared them all together, like a puzzle, piecing them together where there should be nothing to piece.
Twelve found dead within the span of week…total body count climbing to seventy-three since the disappearances first began. Bodies badly disfigured, an attempt to conceal evidence—the disappearances, always at night…Random…no similarities between the victims, save for the way they died…
Edward's thoughts continued to spiral. I clawed at him, the panic rising in my veins.
No. No it can't be, he thought desperately in his head. I gave his arm a light yank.
I don't know. I might be overthinking this. But I'm worried that there's a possibility that whatever behind this is…"
"Is what?" I whispered lowly in his ear.
A Vampire.