Chapter 7
Meanwhile, Back at the Cullens'
Just like that, I was brought back into the fold of the Blood-drinkers Institute of Transylvanian Existence. During my recovery from the bout with the werewolf, several colleagues sent me large bouquets of fragrant flowers, and my room was always crowded with well wishers, all of them wanting to score points with Viktor, who was playing the proud father. I felt like the prodigal son in Father Pawel's bible – except that his father hadn't tortured and literally fed him to the wolves before welcoming him home.
Viktor set me up in a suite of spacious rooms in his wing of the compound. I was clearly back in his favor. He reinstated me into my old position as Cataloger in the archives, but that was as far as he'd go with career help. My success in the organization was entirely up to me. Although Archive Cataloger was the same position that had bored me beyond sanity in my younger years, the job held great appeal for me this time. Hidden amongst the volumes of data in the archives was a plethora of information on vegan vampires throughout history. As I cataloged, I culled the information pertinent to my research and made duplicates for my own private collection, which I kept hidden in my rooms.
It took me years to glean all the information I could from the existing archive. I then focused on increasing my influence in the organization, so I could expand my knowledge and connections. Even though Viktor took no part in my career advancement, it didn't hurt that everyone knew I was his girl. It also didn't hurt that I could be dazzlingly charming, even by vampire standards. I spent two decades turning the right heads and whispering in the right ears to get where I am now, right where I need to be.
The Archive Expansion Project was my idea, and I convinced the President of Research that it was the only way for Romania to remain relevant. I eventually coaxed a whole board of directors to commission a separate department for Diet, Eating Habits, and Rituals. After that, it didn't take much to persuade Vampire Resources that I should be appointed as the one and only member of that department.
My current position, which I've had for the last eight years, requires me to go out in the world to collect new information. So, I get to travel, travel, travel. Even while I was stationed in the archives, Viktor understood my wanderlust and had allowed me generous vacation time during which I was free to go wherever I pleased. I guess he figured it was better than losing me entirely. I usually went to see Father Pawel. He is still my well-protected secret. Now my freedom is almost total. I only need to return to headquarters once every two months to report on my progress.
Sometimes it's almost as if things are going too well for me. I have freedom; I make good money; I have security. It would be easy to lose myself in the life that everyone at B.I.T.E. thinks I'm living and forget about my grand plan. That's why frequent visits to Pawel are so important to me. I need his counsel, and I need to look upon his sunny face to stay grounded and remind me of why I'm doing this.
Another benefit of being gone from headquarters so much is that I'm able to avoid most of the pressure to follow up on those whispers. Most of it. Gregorio is being persistent. His ear had been particularly fun to whisper into, and I'm afraid I may have become a bit overzealous in my promises to him.
I still don't exactly trust him, but it's difficult to completely shut someone out once they've saved your life, especially once I learned that Gregorio had wanted to shoot the wolf earlier, right before it had howled. That's what the argument I'd heard coming from the observation deck had been about. Viktor had ordered Gregorio to wait, because he'd wanted to see what I would do. In his frustration, Gregorio had grabbed that blasted silver wand from Viktor and snapped it in two, sending it clattering to the floor. I had to love him a little bit for that. Then again, Viktor had been right. I'd come back valiantly and impressed the lot of them. Maybe Gregorio's purpose had not been to save me but to cut me short of my glory. Hmm…
The best thing about the argument was that it had driven a temporary wedge between Gregorio and Viktor. It had given me just enough room to firmly implant myself into Viktor's good graces before they'd made up. Gregorio quickly earned his spot back as Viktor's golden boy, but now he had to share him with me, Viktor's golden girl.
Gregorio and I have a somewhat twisted relationship. One minute we're locked in subtle battle, like brother and sister competing for our father's affections, and the next minute we're whispering fervent innuendos to each other like love-starved teenagers under the bleachers at the big game. We've never actually done anything, but I suppose I'm going to have to follow up on those whispers one of these days – for the sake of the cause, of course.
The cause, yes, the reason I'm visiting the Cullens. After decades of collecting and assimilating information, I am almost ready for action. I can't do it alone. As step one in the action plan, I've gotten the idea to write a book, an informational book about the vegan lifestyle and its benefits. Step two is where I'll need help. I'll need missionaries to go out and promote the book and the vegan lifestyle. I think the Cullens will make the perfect missionaries. They obviously believe in the cause and they exhibit an intense loyalty, not a common trait among vampires. I'm going to need missionaries that are loyal to me and loyal to the cause or the whole thing goes up in flames. The trick is for me to gain their loyalty. It's clearly going to be an uphill battle after the way I've treated them – and continue to treat them.
You'd think that I'd have taken the kindness shown to me by my dear Father Pawel and learned how to show that same kindness to others. You'd think. For some reason, that's not how it works for me. Perhaps it's because all my love is poured on the diminutive figure of Father Pawel and all my sugar has been spent in Romania so all that's left for the rest of the world is my vinegar. I don't know. I'm not a psychiatrist. Whatever the reason, it is going to be very difficult for me to bring anyone else in, when I keep reflexively pushing them away. Even the Madagascar coven seems less than enthusiastic at my arrivals, although they always manage to soften me up a bit by the time I leave.
Before arriving at the Cullen's today, I'd planned on opening up to them and letting them in a tiny bit behind the wall, but the way things are going, I'm not so sure. Alice it tilting her head at me with a furrowed brow. She doesn't like me teasing Edward about the impending nuptials.
"Oh Elie, always joking," she says in an attempt to ease the tension.
It doesn't work.
Esme makes a nervous, fluttering gesture with her hand. Esme is good. Esme is kind. Esme thinks of everyone around her before she thinks of herself. Esme pretends to give her unending life purpose by taking care of these adult 'children' of hers that are more than capable of taking care of themselves. Esme makes me want to vomit. I like to see the venom I stir up in her. It's good to know she's not perfect.
"W-would you like to come to the wedding?" she asks, speaking for the family. Apparently Carlisle lets her take charge on trivial matters like weddings. "You would have been invited, of course, but nobody knew where to find you. Also, we need to watch the carnivorous vampire quotient with so many humans attending, of course," she adds nervously.
"Of course," I agree, narrowing my eyes at her. I could have some fun with this one. Hint at wedding-spoiler antics, how sweet blood tastes after its owner had consumed big, white, sugary cakes and all that. But I won't go there. Not today. "Thanks for the invite, but I'll be heading down your coast to Baja. Last chance to take advantage of all the revelry before they take off to college."
Esme's face relaxes with relief.
"Yep, so watch the news for reports of shark attacks," I tell them. By that I mean that I'll be attacking the sharks, but let the Cullens think what they will. "You haven't lived until you've sucked on the neck of a completely blotto college student. Sometimes the buzz lasts for days." Not that I'd ever do it again, but I do sort of miss getting drunk off of intoxicated undergrads. Maybe I can coax a sea turtle into drinking a Mai Tai or something.
"It's rather sunny down in Baja, isn't it?" Carlisle says. I know he's asking out of genuine concern for me.
"Oh, don't worry; I don't go skinny dipping until after dark," I purr.
Emmett makes and odd sort of squeaking noise in his throat. I look sideways toward him at the table where's he's sitting and gawking at me. I give him a long, seductive glance, and his arm slams down on the table. If vampires could sweat, he'd be drenched.
Rosalie is fuming. Poor Emmett's going to be all revved up by the time I leave. She should really thank me. But she won't.
I am so saving Emmett's interview for last. It should be interesting for a couple of reasons. First of all, Emmett has the weakest motive for staying clean; I'm pretty sure he only does it for Rosalie. My research indicates that most successful vegan vampires are motivated by something more powerful than a shallow, blonde bombshell. I'm curious to find out how Emmett does it.
The other reason I look forward to Emmett's interview is because I know Rosalie will be listening raptly at the door the whole time. I promise she won't be bored. My questions are guaranteed to stray from standard research topics.
"Well, this has been a hoot," I say. "But I did come here with a purpose. Jasper, are you ready?"
"Go on up to Carlisle's office. I'll join you in a minute," he says with a commanding look that I don't dare disobey.
"Okie Doke," I reply and saunter up the stairs. I wait for him amongst the cluttered walls of Carlisle's office. I sit in the chair behind the desk. The power seat. I know what Jasper's doing downstairs. He has a gift for easing emotions. Right now, he's calming his family's nerves, which I've frazzled.
He walks into the office, shaking his head at me. "You always make more work for me," he says as he slides into the chair across the desk.
His tone is light, but I know he's pissed. He wants me to leave. He doesn't think I'm good for the Cullens. He's one hundred percent correct. And he doesn't know the half of it. I very well may lead this family into war.
We'll only be able to convert so many vampires to the vegan lifestyle before it's noticed, before leaders in our world – the Volturi, my Romanian cohorts – figure out what we're up to. They're not going to like it. Not one bit. It won't be so much about lifestyle choice as it will be about control. They won't like to see our growing influence in the vampiric world. They'll do something about it. Fo sho. It'll be a pissing match.
At some point, our missionaries will need to turn from their peaceful work to do battle. Yet another reason the Cullens are attractive to me – they can fight. Boy, can they fight. They recently took on a pack of rabid, young vampires and defeated them soundly. The Volturi investigated and suspect the Cullens were aided by a currently unknown force. I'm hopeful that this force that can be counted on to aid us again.
Look at me, already thinking in terms of us. I've got a looong way to go before the Cullens ever consider me part of their us.
I regard Jasper steadily. I consider broaching the subject with him, but my chest constricts, and I can't do it. I know that to win them over, I'm going to have to let them in. I know this, and I'm getting closer to doing it, but I'm not ready. Not yet. All the deception that got me to this point has been easy; it is the honesty that's going to be difficult.
I spread my palms out flat on the desk in front of me. "I could use a little Jasper magic. Hit me," I say and suck air in as if I'm inhaling his vibe. I do actually start to feel a little better.
"Don't you see that you're the one who provokes the tense atmosphere around you? Why do you do it?" Jasper asks calmly. He's not accusing. I think he might actually be trying to help.
My eyes narrow, and I tell him, "I'm the one asking the questions around here, bub."
He nods his head slightly; he's not going to push me. "Thanks for taking it easy on Esme this time," he adds softly.
We lock eyes for a second. Jasper is probably my favorite Cullen. The only one I can somewhat relate to. He comes from a background of violence and horror, as evidenced by the long scars slashed across his face. He's only become a vegan since joining the Cullens, and he struggles with it. He's interesting. I've often suspected that things between me and Jasper would have had the potential to become very interesting if we both didn't like Alice so damned much. There's just something about a vampire with a scar. To quote my long-deceased Gato, 'Reow.'
I answer Jasper's comment with a shrug. Things are starting to feel a little too nicey-nice. Time to get down to business.
Jasper answers every question with brutal and graphic honestly. It's exactly what I need – for both my research and my sanity. Stories of the hideous and terrible things that vampires have done in the throes of their bloodlust remind me why I'm doing this, why I'm trying for a less murderous, more peaceful culture. I need all the external bolsters to my resolve that I can get, because I won't always have Pawel. He's a very old man now. He's not going to live forever. He's going to leave me.
The temptation to bite him, to make my beloved Father Pawel immortal, to keep him forever is very great. But it would be so wrong. So very, very wrong. How could I trap his beautiful soul in his human body for eternity when it is so obviously meant to fly? How can I sentence him the way Viktor sentenced me? I can't. I won't.
Back in the day, Carlisle and I had had many philosophical discussions on the morality of transformation. He'd been toying with the idea of creating his own companions even back then. He made many convincing arguments - only when they were dying, only to raise them to live clean – but in the end, we both knew it was selfish and wrong. I had thought we were on the same page. But somewhere along the way, Carlisle had changed his mind, gotten too lonely, gotten too weak. I was shocked when I'd heard that he'd transformed his first, then his second, third, and fourth. I'm sure he justified his actions to himself, but that doesn't change the fact that it was wrong. So terribly wrong. If word on the street is to be trusted, he is going to do it again. To Edward's bride. And supposedly the brainless wonder is willingly going along with it.
In that moment of heightened passion and terror when I was in the midst of killing Kristoph, I'd thought about transforming him, but it hadn't worked out. I guess the one thing about that night that I can be grateful for was sending him on to his rightful kingdom instead of imprisoning him on earth.
I can't believe Carlisle is going to do it again.
Although I must admit, knowing that there is this one imperfection in Carlisle is probably what keeps me from hating him.
If I succeed in my current mission, my next will be to halt the practice of transformation. Since my closest ally in mission number one is an active offender of mission number two, however, I will withhold judgment on this matter for now. All I can control is what I do.
And so, one day I will go to Pawel, and he won't be there. I'll be directed to a simple headstone in a sparse graveyard on a desolate hill. And my eyes and my throat and my everything will choke with invisible tears. And I will sink to my knees in front of the cold, dead stone
And I don't know if I'll ever get up.
That's why I need to let someone else in – soon – so that they can carry on with the mission if I don't get up. I have to make a move soon, or the dream will surely die with Father Pawel, because I don't think I'm going to be able to get up.
I have to let somebody in. I know that. But I'm not ready. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet. I don't know if I'll ever be able to do it. To reach out to anyone. What I need, what I've always needed, is someone to reach out to me. Carlisle, Kristoph, Father Pawel – they all reached out for me first. I've snapped at Carlisle's arms too many times now, and we all know what I've done to Kristoph's. All I have left is Father Pawel, and he is going to leave me.
A wave of despair and loneliness washes over me. I can feel Jasper working to lift my mood, but when emotions run this deep, they can't simply evaporate into nothing. I stare at Jasper helplessly, not quite able to snap myself back this time.
Jasper walks over and pulls me out of my chair and wraps his arms around me. I'm surrounded by his magic. He's not trying to dispel my mood any more. He's trying to let me feel it. He thinks I need to let it out. Maybe he's right. Maybe he's right.
My body is racked by silent sobs. I can't keep it in any longer. I shake, and Jasper grips me. I'd fall to the floor without his support. I shake, and Jasper grips me. I hate that I need him to hold me up. But I do need him.
I shake.
Jasper grips me, and I shake.
I hate that I need him. But I do.
The sobs subside. I've cleared enough room for Jasper to inject some hope, and I begin to feel better. I still don't know what I'm going to do, but I have to trust that something will come to me. I have to. I have faith.
Jasper can feel that I'm doing okay, and he holds me for an extra moment and whispers into my ear, "Don't worry, tough girl, I won't breath a word."
"You don't actually breathe anything, Jasper," I reply flatly.
"You know what I mean, smart ass," he says irritably and releases me.
I smile. Everything feels back to normal. Whatever that is.
Jasper and I head back downstairs, and I say brief goodbyes to the Cullens. Edward offers to walk me out, I assume so he can make sure I leave. He walks me to my rental car, the red minivan, and scoffs when he sees it. Snobby little prick.
"They say that people who drive expensive cars are trying to compensate for something they lack, like, say, a personality, for example," I comment.
Edward raises an eyebrow at me but says nothing, proving my point.
I get in and slam the door shut. I stick the key in the ignition, but before I turn it, Edward taps lightly on the window. I slide it down, keeping my eyes forward. I'm sure I don't want to hear whatever it is he has to say.
"Whenever you're ready, I'll be prepared to do whatever I can to help," he says evenly.
I'm completely dumbfounded. I've left a crack open somewhere and the intuitive little prick saw through it. I flip the ignition and turn to him, half expecting a sneering gloat. But his look is one of utter sincerity. My mind is reeling and lying open like a book, begging for him to read it. I throw the van in reverse and fly backwards.
I slam on the brakes, but before I switch gears to take off, I give Edward a hard look and think, 'Thanks, you little prick.'
Edward laughs, and for the first time I appreciate that there are very few things in this world more beautiful than Edward's laugh.
I laugh, too, as I drive away. What do you know? My grand plan might actually work.