For My Own

Chapter 2

Edward returned home on the fourth day. I heard him coming, running through the woods rather than down the road, which we often did when we just wanted speed. I knew Esme could hear him, too, because her eyes lit up as she looked down from her ladder. She looked endearing with a smudge of pale blue paint across her cheek, and I suddenly wanted desperately to protect her from whatever news Edward was bringing.

Esme hopped down from the ladder, landing, as always, lightly on the balls of her feet. She was graceful even for a vampire; I should know, I spent more than enough time watching her move through the house, painting, ripping up floorboards, sanding down the banisters of the new staircase that led up to Edward's loft. Her movements were fast and fluid, bespeaking both a deep femininity and a drive that I wasn't sure she herself was yet aware of.

Once Esme had made up her mind about the house, things had moved with bemusing speed. She knew exactly what she needed, and my hands were kept busy sawing, sanding, and nailing for as many hours as she did. She was nearly done, though; her vampire strength and speed made the task much easier for her than it would have been for a human. We were only awaiting the delivery of the lumber for the wrap-around porch, which her slender hands had drawn with uncanny accuracy, and which I promised her that Edward and I would build for her.

Esme and I stood side by side, hands brushing but not linked, to welcome our son home. It felt strange, but somehow right, to share my son with Esme when we were not—could not be—a couple. But it reassured me, because it told me without a doubt that she would never be tempted to feign love for me so that she could mother Edward, nor tempted to feign affection for Edward in order to be my mate. I could not have borne either outcome, but Esme never withheld or feigned an ounce of her great love.

I was in awe of her. And I knew she simply awaited my signal for her to shower that love upon me, but I couldn't give that signal yet. She was married, she wasn't mine. I wasn't free to love her, though love her I certainly did. I wouldn't compound the wrong by acting on it.

And I had to hear what Edward had to say about his trip to Ohio.

So, I tried to content myself with occasional touches of her hand, smiles, or watching her when I felt sure I was undetected. It was better than nothing, especially since these small things seemed to bring her delight, as well, but I grew more dissatisfied and restless every day. I had more than I ever dreamed I would, but it made me greedy for still more.

Edward's rapid tread touched down outside the door, and then he was in, with us where he belonged. It amazed me how quickly I'd become used to being part of a family after two and a half centuries alone.

"Edward!" Esme exclaimed, stepping forward to meet him. He smiled and embraced her gently and allowed her to kiss his cheek. His eyes didn't meet mine, but he looked fierce, dangerous, as he wrapped his arms around his mother.

Edward's black look couldn't bode well for his findings in Ohio, but at the moment, seeing how he held her and guarded her from the worst of his expression, I knew that if something happened to me, I could rely on Edward to protect Esme.

At that moment, my cold heart felt as though it had stuttered to life again.

"Welcome home, son," I said quietly. Edward released Esme and turned to embrace me quickly. What's wrong? What did you find out?

He muttered, "Later," then released me and turned his gaze to the room. The bleak, violent look was gone, and a bright smile replaced it. He was protecting Esme again. I nodded in approval. I was probably the only father on earth who was proud of what a good liar his son was becoming.

"Esme, did you do all this?" Edward said, impressed with the changes that had been made in a few short days.

Esme nodded, her smile blooming across her face. "Do you like it? Carlisle said I could do whatever I wanted—" she laughed, "—and that money was no object!"

Edward looked around carefully, though I knew that his eyes had taken in every detail as soon as he had bounded in the door. He wanted his praise to mean something, to be deeply considered and therefore meaningful to her.

"It's perfect," he said, smiling at her. "Both elegant and comfortable. It seems to reflect Carlisle in that sense."

I glanced over at him, startled by that observation. Esme clapped her hands and laughed, and I looked down at her with wide eyes.

"I'm so glad you think so!" she said happily. "That's what I was trying to do, to make his home an extension of his brightness and his strength."

Both of these people I loved were looking at me with such admiration that I grew flustered. "You exaggerate my virtues," I said uncomfortably. "But the house is becoming more beautiful by the day."

Esme and Edward glanced at each other and rolled their eyes, as though they shared a private joke at my expense. However, since it seemed to be directed at my inability to accept a compliment, I just shook my head in bemusement. Brightness and strength, indeed.

Edward turned to Esme, the gentle, amused smile still playing around his mouth. "I have to tell Carlisle some things about my trip and some difficult suppliers I encountered, and I need to hunt. Will you be all right if we stay close to the house?"

She nodded, but glanced up at me. "I think so," she said hesitantly. "Carlisle and I hunted yesterday, so I'll just stay here and finish painting."

"Stay in the house, all right?" I said. I lifted a hand and stroked a single finger down her soft cheek. "You're doing extremely well, but we don't want to take any chances if the wind blows the wrong way."

"I will," she promised, then waved to us as she picked up her paint brush again.

We walked away from the house in silence, listening carefully to make sure that Esme was still involved in her work. We'd never left her alone for so long, but there was no wind today, and we would simply run a perimeter around the house.

As though the agreement had been spoken, we both began to jog, letting our instincts seek out nourishment while our rational minds were otherwise occupied. I sensed that Edward needed a few moments to gather his thoughts together, so I waited patiently, occupying myself by listening to Esme's brush rising and falling. I smiled to myself when she began to hum a song we had listened to on the radio just the night before.

"He thinks she's dead," Edward said abruptly.

I assumed as much.

"But he doesn't mourn her," he said angrily. "He was wounded in the war, and now he works at his father's bank, while women flock to him pretending to be concerned about his injury."

Not to mourn the loss of Esme was an incomprehensible thought. How could any being, even a mortal, not weep at the thought that she had been taken from the universe?

"He'll probably choose one of them and marry again," Edward said. We continued to jog in a wide circle, the sounds of Esme's work faint but audible. From here we could also hear the faint sounds of the town in the distance…autos on bumpy roads and voices raised in greeting.

It would be expected, I thought, but there should be some way to make sure it doesn't happen. I thought about that for a moment. I didn't like the thought of Evenson doing to some other young woman the things he'd done to Esme.Then I shook my head, too eager for Edward's information to dwell on it, and determined to consider it again later. Did he know about the baby? Did he ever enquire about his son?

Edward shook his head. "He didn't know. But I think…" He hesitated. "I think he would have gone after her if he'd known."

I hissed in anger. "Because it would have made her easier to control."

We had turned back to the north; now Edward sprinted ahead of me, pulling us slightly off course. "Come on," he said, his voice tight. "Let's take it out on the wolves."

We ran further north until we found the wolves sleeping deep under the cover of branches and leaves. They were irritated about being awoken, and put up enough of a fight that some of my anger and frustration was fed into not only taking down a few of the larger wolves, but in fighting off the whole pack. A wolf was never alone, unlike other prey… alone, injured, unable to call for help…

"Carlisle!" Edward hissed urgently.

Edward's voice snapped me immediately out of my feeding. My head snapped up, and I heard it. The engine of a truck, a large heavy one, pulling into the lane in front of our isolated farm house.

"Go!" I yelled, and we ran full out, south through the woods. The howls of the surviving wolves followed us through the thick trees, greens and browns flashed by us in perfect clarity.

The sound of the truck's engine died.

Edward pulled ahead of me. He was a much faster runner.

In the distance, the truck's door opened, then slammed.

I ran faster, invisible. Edward pulled ahead a little more.

"Hello?" a voice called, still far away.

I ran faster than I ever had. Almost there. Please, Esme, stay in the house…

The front door opened. Oh, no…

Edward skidded to a halt at our treeline. His heels dug deep ruts into the soft earth. "I can't, Carlisle…the blood…"

Stay here, I said, sprinting past him. I smelled the blood, too. I was too late.

"Esme, stop!" I shouted.

But of course, she couldn't stop. She was on the ground on front of the porch steps, crouched over the man's body, drinking thirstily from his jugular. His head on his broken neck lolled to the side, giving her easy access. She balanced perfectly on the balls of her feet, holding the burly body with no effort at all. His blood smeared her pale cheeks, looking obscenely bright next to the streak of pale blue paint that also marked her.

"Esme!" I said sharply. Her head whipped up and she sprang, dropping her kill, into a defensive crouch in front of it. At that moment, I was only another predator, a threat to her meal. She had no conception of me as the man who loved her.

A fierce snarl ripped from between her bared teeth. I hesitated, careful not to take an offensive position. I could subdue her with Edward's help, but I didn't want Edward involved right now…he was too young, he might fight Esme for the human, and we might all end up hurting each other.

I stepped back, bent my head, and raised my hands submissively. "Fine," I said, resigned. "He's already dead. You might as well finish."

She growled once more in an assertion of her victory, and returned to the body. She caught the blood seeping from his neck on her tongue, but never took her eyes from me.

I squeezed my eyes shut, pushing temptation forcibly out of my mind. I was stronger than this. I wouldn't fight Esme for this kill, no matter how delicious the splattered blood smelled. And I would not take her like an animal there on the ground, matching strength for strength, sliding in human blood, tasting her lips, throat, breasts, exulting together in our dominance over all other forms of nature, claiming victory over our prey and over each other…

"Carlisle."

Edward's voice came from a distance, but it woke me from my fantasy…and I was shocked to find myself crouching over Esme and the delivery man's body, one hand reaching toward not him, but her. A low warning growl hummed in Esme's chest and her eyes tracked my movement.

I quickly straightened myself and spun away, turning my back on Esme. I knew it was unwise; she might finish feeding and attack me before she returned to her senses. I walked briskly across the field in front of our house at the same time Edward emerged from the trees, taking careful and considered steps toward me. I realized he had stopped breathing.

"I'm sorry," he said, the anguish and tension making his voice thick. "I took us off course. I was so angry, I wanted a fight, and I smelled the wolves—"

"It's all right, son," I said heavily. "It's not your fault. I should never have left her alone."

"That was my idea, too," Edward said miserably.

"But my responsibility," I corrected him. "We are what we are, Edward. We must never forget that this is always a possibility. It's harder for you young ones, but any one of us could have the smallest lapse of control and revert to this side of our nature in an instant."

Edward looked at me. "You never do."

I shook my head. "You know that's not true, Edward." I thought of my dark and desperately tempting fantasies of a moment ago. "You above all know that I am not immune to the weaknesses of our kind."

"Temptation isn't sin, Carlisle," he said, shaking his head. "I don't think it matters as much what you want to do as what you choose to do."

"I hope that's the case," I said seriously. Indeed, all my hope for myself, Edward, and Esme was founded on my belief that we could choose to overcome our inhuman nature and be a force for good in the world.

"Who was he, anyway?" Edward asked, nodding toward the dead man on our front lawn.

"He was delivering the wood for the wrap-around porch Esme wants," I said quietly. "Just an honest man working an honest job. I didn't expect him until tomorrow."

The sounds of Esme's feeding stopped, and we turned as we heard the body hit the ground with a soft thud. There was a long silence while Esme stood over him, her face blank, her body frozen. Edward and I started to walk toward her, slowly, not wanting to startle or provoke her.

Are you all right? I asked Edward, noting the tension in his shoulders and the grimace on his face.

"Yes. There's not much blood left."

Esme's eyes rose from the dead man in front of her to our approaching figures. They were a vivid, bright crimson. Blood smeared her lips and chin. The frozen look on her face gave way to realization, then horror, and she covered her face with her hands.

"Carlisle!" she wailed, the sound full of pain and despair.

I was at her side in an instant. I gathered her into my arms and stroked her hair, ignoring the blood that got on my shirt as she pressed her face into my shoulder and wept tearlessly.

"There now," I crooned, feeling helpless and useless. "There, now, Esme, don't worry. Everybody slips sometimes. It's not your fault. There now…"

"I killed him, Carlisle," she sobbed, her breath coming in dry hitches. "He was a human being! He was some mother's son, and I took him from her…"

She broke away from me, pushing me with enough strength that I staggered back and fell to the ground. She slammed the door before I recovered, but I leapt up and followed her leaving Edward to deal with the body.

"Don't, Esme."

She was on her knees on the floor, her breath coming in quick gasps, her hands fisted in her hair. I knelt beside her and gathered her in my arms. She didn't return my embrace, but she didn't push me away, either.

I comforted her the best I could, and listened to what Edward was doing outside. He held his breath as he picked up the man's muscular body easily, slid him carefully back into the driver's seat of the truck, closed the door, and came around the back and began to unload the wood from the truck's bed. The task only took him a few minutes, and soon the lumber was stacked in a neat pile against the front of the farmhouse.

Edward paused. "What should I do with him?"

The creek, I said. Running water would explain why there was no blood when the body was finally found. The lake would be even better, but I didn't know if there was any reason for him to have been driving that close to it. At least this way, it would look as though he'd had simply had a tragic accident on his way back from a delivery.

Head trauma against the steering wheel, I added, not wanting to burden Esme with the image of Edward applying blunt force to recreate the supposed accident.

I heard Edward nod. Esme and I listened as he climbed into the passenger seat, turned the key in the ignition, and drove the truck out onto the main road. I assumed he would drive the truck off the one lane bridge and into the water beneath, but I didn't concern myself too deeply. Edward was bright and resourceful; he would take care of it.

I'm depending upon you, I thought. Thank you.

"Sure," he said grimly, his voice fading as he deftly turned the truck onto the main road past our house.

"I'm so sorry, Carlisle," Esme said. She was quieter now, her breathing starting to level out. She remained where she was, though, in the circle of my arms, her head resting on my shoulder.

"No, my dear," I said, running a hand down her hair again. It was so soft and thick. "I'm sorry. I should never have left you for so long, nor gone so far. You are very young yet."

"Now I understand why you and Edward are always hovering over me," she said, a little bitter laugh escaping her lips. "I didn't know I was capable of that, but you did."

I tipped up her chin and looked down into her eyes. They were so red they were hard to look at, but for all that, they were still Esme's. "You will always be capable of that, Esme," I said solemnly. "We all are. We must choose with every single day, with every single person we encounter, not to prey upon them, when it would be much more natural to do so. This is not an easy life I have condemned you to."

She sighed, and I could smell the blood on her breath. Mixed with her own sweet breath, it was a heady, exquisite scent. My arms tightened around her.

"I don't want to hurt anyone else," Esme said. "You must help me, Carlisle, you and Edward."

"Of course we will," I murmured.

She frowned. "How do you resist? From the moment that poor man arrived, nothing had ever smelled better to me. Nothing has ever tasted better. It tempts me even now, knowing that there are more of them out there…"

"Yes," I said. "You, Edward, and I are fighting our own nature and the pull of great pleasure. Sometimes it is only the thought that someone would have to die for my pleasure that keeps me from succumbing. It doesn't seem like a fair trade for the other person."

"No," she said. "It wouldn't be right. Though they would surely die happy if your face was the last thing they saw."

I smiled a little and pressed her head back down to my chest, holding her for another moment there on the floor of the old farmhouse. I was reluctant to let her go, but I thought she might like to bathe, to wash off the blood, to have some time alone to process the day's events.

"I don't feel condemned," she said suddenly. Her head came up and her eyes met mine again. Her crimson eyes were fierce. "I hate what I just did, and I don't want to hurt people, but you don't have to be a vampire to hurt people. I feel strong and powerful, and nobody can ever hurt me again. I can choose for myself, and do what I want, and nobody can stop me. You gave me that, Carlisle."

Her eyes were filled with passion, her chin raised defiantly. Even Edward had not embraced his fate so wholeheartedly, especially not after making a mistake.

She must have sensed my doubt, because she added firmly, "I have a great deal to learn yet, but to me, this life is a blessing."

I stared down at her. Could she possibly mean that? Could she somehow see this unnatural life not as a curse, but as something good in her life? Even after what I had allowed to happen today?

Suddenly my whole existence, nearly three hundred years, was transformed.

In an instant, I saw myself working through plague, cholera, and influenza. Earthquakes, fires, and floods. Bombings, battles, and violence. I had always done these things. But in my mind's eye…in Esme's mind…I was no longer the accursed wraith who must constantly justify his presence upon the earth, the monster who must do penance for crimes he could have committed at any time.

For a moment, my very nature was a gift—because of it I was a doctor who could not be wounded, a healer who could not fall ill, a man whose supernatural strength could carry the weak, a guardian who neither slumbered nor slept but stood watch tirelessly over those in his charge.

I had always striven to be those things, in spite of my nature. Esme seemed to be saying I was those things because of my nature.

She was still looking at me with admiration in her eyes, and my shining vision faded. I was not all that she and Edward persisted in thinking I was. Only I knew that I, like King David, was considering ways of ridding my life of another man so that I could have his wife for my own. But perhaps, like King David, there was enough potential good in my nature to make up for that. Perhaps I could just be who I was, as I had encouraged Esme to do, without condemning myself any longer just for existing.

That thought was healing to my own battered soul, and I sighed at the quiet, liberating pleasure of it.

"And you have given me more than you can possibly know," I whispered, kissing her softly on the forehead.

I heard Edward running through the woods that paralleled the creek before it curved away toward town. Esme heard him, too; she turned her head in his direction and opened her eyes wide.

"Will Edward be disappointed in me?"

"No," I said firmly. "I promise."

"Carlisle, can we do something for that man's family? He may have had a wife, children…"

I squeezed her harder and smiled. "Dearest Esme," I laughed. "Of course we can. I'll visit the attorney tomorrow and arrange it." I had to visit the attorney's office, anyway. I looked down at my precious Esme. "How do you live with so much love in your heart? Doesn't it threaten to burst open from being filled so full?"

She smiled gently. "Sometimes," she said. "But I want to be like you, Carlisle. I want to do the right things."

My laughter faded, and I tried not to grimace. "I don't always do the right things," I said a bit desperately. I knew this to be true; every time I turned around I was either doing something wrong or considering it.

Esme studied my face carefully. "Perhaps not," she said softly, sadly. "But you haven't killed anyone today, have you?"

I sighed. "No," I agreed quietly. "Not today."

"Ever?" she persisted.

I hesitated, then shook my head.

We stood in silence for a moment, our arms wrapped around each other. I would figure this out soon. I would not allow anyone else to have more of a claim on her than I did. I liked to think that she needed me a little, even if she was reluctant to need anyone.

"Why don't you go clean up?" I suggested, reluctantly letting her go. I could hear Edward's footsteps running quickly through the woods. "Edward and I will get started on this porch for you."

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