Chapter 12
Immortal
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
Edward lay down beside Bella's body and pulled her lifeless form into his arms, feeling the blood which had pooled beneath her seep through his suit.
"Oh, Bella, no, no ..." he whispered. He kissed her cheeks, her eyes, her temple. He wept, the force of his sobs shaking the bed beneath them. His pink tears fell on her still, white face. Edward pulled the handkerchief from his breast pocket and gently dabbed them away. He talked to her while he did it, telling her all the things he'd wished he could have told her while she was alive.
He knew he should call Emmett. It kept pulling at the edges of his mind. Emmett needed to know, but Edward felt that saying the words aloud: "Bella's dead" would somehow make it real, grant it a dreadful finality he could not accept.
Her body was cooling. Edward scooped her up and carried her over to the second twin bed and laid her down gently. From the bathroom, he fetched a dampened washcloth and carefully cleaned the blood from her face, her arms, from around the terrible wound in her throat. Her beautiful hair had been hacked away, its jagged edges ending below her ears. She bore no other signs of violation, thank God, save for a deep cut on her thumb. He pulled the silver chain until the pendant came into view. She'd broken it, and it hadn't saved her. He hadn't saved her. If he had turned left instead of right when tracking the scent, he might have arrived in time, if not to save her mortal life, then to change her before she was taken away from him forever.
Riley was nothing more than a small lump of ashes in the corner. When the maids came in, they would think an ashtray had spilt on the rug. That is, if they noticed anything about the room besides the huge bloodstain on the other be that loudly proclaimed a murder had been done in this room. It probably wasn't the first nor last. Edward wished he could kill Riley again, this time slow and using some of the horrifying tactics he had picked up here and there over the millenia.
He threw the bloodstained cloth into a corner and sat down on the floor beside her body. He laid his head on her stomach. He could have survived knowing Bella was somewhere in the world and happy. It would have been a hellish existence, but he could endure. Because there was always the chance, no matter how infinitesimal, that she would some day turn to him.
Now there was nothing left.
He took out his cell phone. He had a few things to take care of, first and foremost to tell Emmett. He flipped the phone open. Stared at it, getting lost for a little while in a memory.
He looked up at Bella and reached to brush a bit of hair away from her face. He was delaying, he knew. He had to do this. He punched in Emmett's number. Grief made his hands slow and clumsy. He glanced at her one more time, ready to press "SEND."
Bella's eyes opened.
Emmett was in full panic mode.
The call had come less than twenty minutes after he left their little apartment over the garage. Jane and Benjamin dead. Bella missing. Emmett slammed on the brakes and whipped the steering wheel hard. The wheels squalled and horns blared. Emmett didn't care if he had to ram every car on this six-lane freeway out of the way, he was getting back to the Queen's estate. He found an opening in the barrier which separated the lanes and took it. The minivan would do no more than 95, a frustratingly low speed. His gut felt like it had been replaced by a block of ice, heavy and cold.
Edward! He needed to call Edward, whose talents were far superior to his own. He dialed and the phone rang endlessly (Edward refused to have voicemail). He tossed the worthless thing on the seat beside him and willed this stupid piece of junk to go faster.
He disdained the ordinary route, driving the minivan the shortest possible way, which meant bounding through fields and dodging through trees. The minivan arrived in front of the Queen's house a smoking battered wreck. Emmett flung the door open and ran for the little apartment over the garage. He sniffed carefully. Four scents: Jane by the door, Benjamin by the side of the garage, Felix near both Jane and Benjamin, and then a scent he did not recognize. And there was the sweet scent of Bella, faint, so she must have been carried away.
Someone spoke to him, but he ignored them, following the scent of the unknown male. As if God were spiting him, rain began to fall. Emmett ran, following the trail into the treeline, desperate as it faded with every drop that fell. He lost it. Had to circle back. He lost it again. Had to circle back. He was soaked to the skin and the trail was nearly gone.
In a clearing, the scent trail abruptly ended. He circled around and around, growing more frantic as time passed, trying to pick it up again. Anything ... The smell of gasoline, oil, metal. He looked around for the signs of a vehicle. Calm. Stay calm.
Two long, thin parallel rail marks like skis. A helicopter. A fucking helicopter! Emmett screamed with rage and frustration. He couldn't track her through the sky. Oh, God. What was he going to do. He fell to his knees, the pain so intense that he couldn't move for a moment. He had lost her. He had failed her.
He rose to his feet and made himself run back to the house. Maybe someone inside would have an idea. He had just entered the hall when someone called his name. He turned to face them, feeling numb, feeling dead.
"Edward is on the phone."
He kept walking.
"You're going to want to speak to him," the woman said insistently.
He took the phone. "What?" he said.
"I have Bella," Edward said without preamble.
Emmett fell again, but this time it was in relief. Sweet, pure, joyous relief. "Is she okay? Is she safe?" he whispered.
"She ...ah... she's one of us, Emmett."
If Edward hadn't been sitting already, he would have been knocked on his ass with sheer shock. Bella's eyes were open, looking around with the frantic searching gaze of a caged animal. She leapt to her feet with immortal speed, and spotting him, she hissed, backing as far away as possible, into the corner by the second bed. She crouched down, trying to hide.
No heartbeat, though she gasped for air she didn't yet realize she no longer needed. No fangs yet, but she was one of them, a vampire. How it had happened, he had no idea. He smelled none of Riley's blood on her.
"Bella," Edward said. He crawled on his hands and knees around the bottom of the bed. He stuck his face around the corner. "Bella?"
She hissed again, trying to scramble away, finding nowhere to go. He tried to read her mind but got the same blank wall he had when she was mortal.
"Bella, honey, it's Edward. Edward."
She showed no sign of recognition, no sign she understood what he was saying. Edward sat back, turning around to lean against the bed. His head fell back and he stared up at the ceiling.
It happened sometimes. He knew that. People sometimes came back wrong. He wasn't willing to admit to that possibility yet. Bella might just be in shock from what happened to her.
Bella moaned and Edward peeked around the edge of the bed to see her clutching her abdomen. "Bella, sweetie, you're about to be very sick. Please let me come help you." He tried to crawl closer and she scrambled again, groaning in pain as she did so. He backed off, fearing he might be making it worse. She slumped over, crying out as the waves of pain became sharper. She moved restlessly on the carpet as if trying to escape it.
"Fuck this," Edward muttered and climbed to his feet. He went over to Bella and scooped her up in his arms, though she tried to struggle weakly. He carried her into the bathroom and helped her with her clothes. "I'm sorry about this, honey. When you're back to your old self, you're going to be as embarrassed as hell, but now is no time for modesty." The broken blood vial necklace still hung around her neck. He took it off her and threw it in the trash can. Worthless thing.
The change was brutal. He remembered his own quite clearly, writhing on the floor in agony, terrified because he was expelling bits that he was pretty sure he needed to live. It felt like your body had been opened and hot coals dumped into the cavity once occupied by your guts.
During her sickness, he supported Bella's body the best he could while holding out a trash can for her. Every whimper and moan was like a knife in his own guts. All he could do was try to soothe her with his voice, promising it would be over soon and she would never be sick again.
After it was finally over, Edward turned on the shower, stripped away the rest of her clothing and stood her under the water. She yelped and tried to struggle away, glaring at the shower nozzle.
"Yeah, I know, your skin is really sensitive. But we need to get you clean and afterwards, you'll feel so much better." He had to give up on the idea she'd stay in there and wash herself because she kept trying to escape and the sleeves of his suit and shirt were soaked.
With a sigh, he stripped down to his boxers and climbed in with her. "You know, I always fantasized about being in the shower with you but I didn't quite picture it this way. Be careful for what you wish for, eh?" He backed her into a corner and angled the shower head so she couldn't escape its spray. He set to washing her, first shampooing her poor, cropped hair and then moving down, trying to imagine he was washing a car. Use the flat of the palm to scrub the flat surfaces with the cloth. Wax on, wax off. Cloth over the fingers for the nooks and crannies. I wouldn't have suspected she was a Full Brazilian kind of girl, he thought before he could help himself. Vampires shed all of their body hair after the change, but Bella didn't have anything to shed.
Once he had her scrubbed, he lifted her out and wrapped her in a white towel. Thankfully, at least the linens smelled clean in this place. He dried her hair, gently rubbing her head with a towel. Her hair stuck out all over the place in spikes and clumps. "Sorry, babe, but the messy bed-ed look isn't for you." He wished he had a comb, but made do with his fingers. When he was finished he picked up her dress from the sink where he'd flung it. The back of it was soaked with blood, but she didn't have anything else. He tried to pull it over her head but she wrinkled her nose and said, "Ugh!" fighting away from it. Inspiration struck. He went and got a sheet from the second bed and brought it to her, tying it around her toga-style. "Good thing I had real-life experience with these, eh?"
He knew she didn't understand him but she smiled and oh fuck me, she had the sexiest little fangs he'd ever seen. He snatched up a towel to hide his, um, reaction, and stood in front of the door so she couldn't escape while he quickly dried and dressed himself.
His new charge seemed to be getting very sleepy if swaying on her feet and giving long, slow blinks was any indication. He noticed that her throat was now completely healed with some pink scarring that would disappear as soon as she fed properly. He scooped her up and deposited her on the clean bed. She wrinkled her nose again at the smell, but didn't try to get up. Instead, she gave an adorable little squeaky yawn, curled up and went to sleep.
Edward stood there, looking down at her for a minute. What if Bella never recovered herself? What if she stayed as this feral creature?
He would still love her, just as much as before.
He took his phone out of his pocket, sat on the blood-soaked bed on which Bella had died, and dialed.
"What?" said Emmett, his voice hollow and dead.
How to break the news to him? The good news? "I have Bella,"
Emmett let out a soft moan, his voice falling to a strangled whisper "Is she okay? Is she safe?" he whispered.
Define 'okay'. "She ...ah... she's one of us, Emmett."
"What happened?" He could hear the pounding of Emmett's feet as he ran.
"I'm not sure," Edward confessed. "I found her in a seedy motel, being drained by some now-dead asshole. She- she died right in front of me, Emmett." Edward's voice choked and wavered. Remembering the indescribable agony and bone-crushing grief of that moment was hard for him to handle, even now as she lay sleeping two feet from him. "And then she opened her eyes, one of us. I didn't smell any of the asshole's blood on her."
"Did you smell any other blood on her?" In the background someone hollered "Hey, that's my car!" and he heard an engine start and the squealing of tires as Emmett peeled out of the Queen's driveway.
"Yours and mine, from the pend-" Edward stopped and dropped the phone. Bella had her hands curled up under her chin. Gently, trying not to disturb her, he pulled her left hand toward him and checked her thumb. A healing cut graced the tip.
"Emmett, I think it was the pendant. Bella cut herself when she broke the vials."
"Is that even possible?" Emmett asked.
Edward didn't know.
He told Emmett where to find the motel and that he should stop and buy Bella new clothes. "Hers are trashed," Edward said. "Sniff-test anything you buy because she's really sensitive to smells right now."
"I'll be there as soon as I can," Emmett said and disconnected the call.
Edward went to the far side of the bed Bella occupied and gingerly lay down beside her. He reached out and stroked her hair. Emmett would be here soon and he would go back to not being able to touch her again, possibly never again. He slowly pulled her into his arms and buried his face in the crook of her neck. Bella's scent had changed of course, but it still smelled sweet and pure.
"I love you, Bella," Edward whispered. "Always."
Emmet pulled his hastily-borrowed (well, maybe stolen) car over at the first shop he saw that had dresses in the window. There was a woman locking the door as he ran up. "Sorry, we're closed," she said without much interest.
"I will give you five thousand dollars if you unlock that door and give me five minutes to shop," Emmett said.
"Seriously?" The woman stared at him.
Emmett pulled a roll of cash from his pocket.
"Wow. Holy shit. Um, okay." The woman unlocked the door and switched on the lights as Emmett stepped inside.
It was a bridal shop, but it also carried formal dresses. He saw one over on a mannequin in the corner, which reminded him of the dresses in the Renaissance. It was a cream-colored gown in some soft sort of fabric Emmett didn't recognize with a lace over-dress that fastened just below the bust line and fell open in the front. He leaned in quickly and sniffed. It had never even been tried on. All he could smell was the faint scent of the seamstress's hands. "This one." Emmett pointed at the mannequin and the woman rushed over to start stripping it. Fortunately, the store also carried ladies' underthings, a bit more fancy than he knew Bella liked with all the lace and embroidery, but it would have to do. He picked up a matching set of bra and panties in the same creamy shade as the dress.
He counted out the necessary cash. The woman packed the dress and underclothes into a long box and effusively thanked him for his purchase. Emmett ran back out to his car and tossed the box on the back seat.
There was a vampire bar along his way. Emmett had never been there before, but he knew of it. He parked the car and walked into the alley, stepping between two buildings and tapping on the door.
A panel slid open and a pair of eyes glared out at him. "You got a pass?"
Emmett showed him his fangs. "Here's my pass, buddy. Let me in before I kick this fucking door down."
"Whoa, okay, okay." There was the sound of a deadbolt being disengaged. Emmett stepped in and headed straight for the bar.
"Two bottles of AB," he said to the bartender. "Fresh, clean. I'm in a hurry."
"You want some milk and cookies to go with that, Shirley Temple?" one of the vampires seated along the bar snickered.
Emmett ignored him.
The guy dropped two bottles on the bar in front of him. "Two fifty."
Emmett laid three Franklins on the bar. "Keep the change." He turned to go and someone stepped into his path.
"You're one of the Queen's boys, aintcha?" The man in front of him said. He was tall, thin as a beanpole and uglier than sin.
"None of your business," Emmett retorted. He stepped around the first and into the path of a second man, this one shorter, bald and remarkably close in resemblance to a bulldog. Emmett sighed and set his bottles back on the bar. "All right. Who's first?"
Ugly threw a punch and Emmett grabbed his arm, using it to fling the man back over his head into the wall. Bulldog charged, and Emmett spun around him, planting a kick into the guy's ass and sending him to join with his friend, examining the baseboards.
"You done?" Emmett asked and got only groans in response. "Good." he grabbed his bottles and headed out to the car.
Apparently, there were still some vampires who believed they didn't cast a reflection because the guys running up behind him didn't know that Emmett could see their approach in his car's windows. He jumped, landing on the other side of the car. The guy in front hadn't had enough time to slam on the brakes because he crashed into the passenger window and stood there howling as blood poured from his various cuts. The second and third ran around the hood of the car. Emmett hit the trunk button on his key fob and brought the trunk lid up to smack under the chin of the second man. He grabbed out the Japanese woman's sword, which he had been carrying with him everywhere since the day he "inherited" it from her. He held the scabbard and slid the sword out, spinning to catch the second man, still stunned by being clocked with the trunk lid, cleanly decapitating him.
The third guy ripped the parking meter up from the ground. A large wad of cement clung to its base and he swung it at Emmett's head. Emmett dodged it easily and flashed behind the guy while he was still hefting the cement ball up for a second swing. Emmett caught him from behind and the meter clanged to the ground atop a small pile of ash.
Emmett swung the sword lazily, twisting his wrist. He walked up to the first man, who was still holding his bleeding arm, staring at the two piles of ash which were once his friends. "You might want to run now," Emmett advised. The guy nodded and took off like a shot.
Emmett sheathed his sword and tossed it through the broken window onto the back seat. He opened the door and brushed out chunks of broken glass before he picked up his two bottles of blood and deposited them on the passenger seat.
In twenty minutes, he arrived at the motel. He tapped on the room door but Edward had heard him coming and opened it almost immediately. Emmett shoved the box and bottles at him and swiftly knelt by Bella's side. He brushed back the hair from her forehead and kissed the pale, smooth skin. "Her hair..." he said mournfully.
"It will grow back," Edward said.
"Think she'll sleep through the day?"
"Almost certainly."
Emmett looked slightly irritable at this pronouncement. Edward knew Emmett was longing to wake her up, talk to her, kiss her, all the things that lovers did to assure themselves that their mate was safe after a trauma like this. Edward knew because he wanted it too.
"She wasn't Under for very long. Maybe twenty minutes," Edward said, referring to the time between death and the time when a new vampire first opened his or eyes. The usual time spanned between a few hours and a few days. The Queen held the record, having been Under for four days. Her companions had thought something had gone wrong with the change and were preparing to bury her when she finally awoke.
"Then she probably won't be very strong," Emmett sad, still watching Bella's sleeping face.
"That's probably just another urban legend like the correlation between the amount of the sire's blood consumed and the fledgling's strength. And anyway, we can be strong for her, if need be."
"We?" Emmett said quietly.
"If she truly underwent the change from the blood in that pendant, I'm just as much her sire as you are. I could claim sire's rights."
Emmett narrowed his eyes. Sire's right gave a vampire custody of their fledgling for a year. If he and Edward both claimed them, Bella would be shared between them, just as Edward had suggested that night in their apartment.
"Listen, Emmett, there's something you need to know. Bella hasn't- Well, she hasn't recovered from her shock."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean she's not herself," Edward said.
"In what way?"
Edward described her behavior and watched as Emmett's jaw got tighter and tighter. At one point, he interrupted the narrative. "You showered with her?"
Edward growled, "Oh, for Christ's sake. I kept my boxers on, and anyway, that's not important right now. Can we stay on topic, please?"
"You know she's going to feel it's mighty damn important once she's back to her old self. Jesus, Edward!"
"She was filthy, Emmett. She was covered in blood and you know what the sickness is like. I didn't take advantage of her, if that's what you're implying."
"All right, all right!" Emmett snapped. "The important thing is how to help Bella. Do ... do you think she'll come out of it?"
"I don't know," Edward said. "Honestly, I've never seen a situation like this."
Bella woke up at sunset, jerking up and backing away with panic on her face, her eyes darting between the two men who watched her.
"Bella, sweetheart," Emmett said. "How are you feeling?"
She stared at him
Emmett looked away, pain twisting his features for a moment. Part of him had held the silly hope that True Love would overcome her traumatized reaction, if that's what it was.
Edward rose and went over to the little coffee pot, opening one of the bottles and pouring its contents into the carafe and sitting it back on the warming pan.
Bella sniffed the air, her fangs lengthening. She let out a little growl and bounded over the bed to the table and snatched the carafe, gulping greedily. She let out a little sigh when it was all gone. "Would you like more?" Edward asked, popping the cap and holding the bottle aloft.
Bella sniffed again and narrowed her eyes. She stalked around Edward like he was her opponent in a knife fight. "If you want it," Edward said, "You have to ask for it."
Bella lunged, but Edward was quicker, holding the bottle above her head.
"Edward, for chrissake, stop teasing her," Emmett snapped.
"I'm not teasing," Edward said. "Bella, do you want this?"
Bella nodded. Edward handed her the bottle and she sucked it down like she was starving.
"She communicated," Edward murmured. "That's the important thing. She understands what we're saying. Can you read her?"
Emmett tilted his head. "Somewhat. It's not really words. Just images, pictures."
Edward nodded. "She just needs time."
Emmett eyed Bella's sheet-toga. He pulled the lid off the box. "Go ... go into the bathroom or something while I get her dressed."
Edward rolled his eyes but complied, taking a seat on the edge of the tub and smoking a cigarette.
Apparently, Bella was more cooperative than she'd been earlier because it wasn't long before Emmett called Edward's name.
"I want to get her out of here," Emmett said, grimacing at the grungy room.
"I'll call the Queen, have her send a car."
"I sort of ... borrowed one. It's parked below."
"Check to see if it's still there first."
Emmett carefully opened the door and then looked down over the railing. "Yup."
"You walk ahead," Edward said. "Clear a path."
They were in luck that no mortals lingered around the hotel parking lot. Edward followed behind, pulling Bella along, a bag of trash in the other hand which contained Bella's stained dress and her old underthings. She had refused to put on the shoes, though, so she walked barefoot among the strewn trash and used hypodermics littering the ground. Emmett was unhappy about that but he decided that picking one's battles was probably a better approach.
He had Bella back. She was now immortal.
Everything else was just icing.