Disclaimer – Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer.
AN (1) – Thank you to the support of all my readers and reviewers. Thank you always to Pace is the Trick for her support and assistance and my wonderful pre-reader, beta and comma queen sandraJ60.
AN (2) - I apologise, dear reader, for the time it has taken to release this chapter. There have been a few things going on in my life, some personal and some professional. However, the main reason for the delay has been the chapter itself. Originally, I had a very clear idea of how I wanted this chapter to go, and how it would progress this tale of jealousy and madness. However, when I went to write the chapter as planned I found myself unable to write it well. As such, this chapter may not have in it the events that some of you were expecting, but I believe it was for the best.
AN (3) - I will remind readers that Carlisle is becoming very much a vampire in this story; he is not human. He is a vampire that has had his first real drink of human blood, causing him to become dangerous and monstrous.
AN (4) – This chapter contains medium level violence, including reference to sexual assault.
Chapter Twelve
They had forgotten the first lesson, that we are to be powerful, beautiful, and without regret.
Armand, Interview with A Vampire, Anne Rice.
Carlisle crouched on the ground, his hands clawing at the earth beneath him. Small tremors ran through his body like waves, almost like something was stirring under his skin, spreading like a virus, taking over every system.
To a human observer, it would have appeared that there was little change in Carlisle, but as he whimpered and moaned at the ground, he felt an increase in the movements beneath his skin. Then, as if the invading substance had reached a point of critical mass, his body moved instantly from prostrate on the ground to standing, arms outstretched and head back, relishing in the sensations firing up and down his body.
The world was different - clearer, sharper and richer.
Carlisle felt more real than he ever had before.
A noise emanated from his chest - a combination of a growl and a purr, as the vampire savoured these new sensations. Sensations he had denied himself for three centuries, pummelled his mind and body.
Carlisle stretched out his new heightened senses. He could hear the animals in the forest; he could almost hear the people in town. The smell of the nearby deer made him retch, but he was able to isolate the sounds and sweaty smells of the two nearby hunters. His body craved more of the red nectar and without volition, started to tense, making minuscule movements in preparation to give chase.
A gust of wind stopped him in his tracks as the smell of blood reached him from a much closer source. Looking down, he saw the broken bottles he had discarded. Dropping to his knees he picked up each container and licked the inside of the glass clean.
Growling at the scarce amount, he spied the abandoned bag. Lifting the flap, he crowed with delight at the sight of more bottles of the delicious nectar. Grabbing the first bottle, he smashed off the top and quaffed the contents rapidly. As with the others, he split open the empty vessel and licked the insides clean.
Disappointed that the bottle was emptied, he turned back to the satchel to find two books in the way of his next feed. Tossing them aside, he caught a scent off the smaller one, a scent that was comforting, infuriating and arousing…Edward.
Picking up the book, he held it to his nose while his hand unconsciously moved to his groin. He inhaled the scent deeply while rubbing himself; the action moved his focus from thirst to lust. His frenzied mind latched onto the raw craving for Edward, his want to possess his progeny…his mate.
Snatching up the backpack, he shoved the diaries inside along with the remaining bottles of blood. Calling Edward's name, Carlisle sprinted away faster than he had ever in his life.
~*.*~
Edward's brief moments of lucidity were in stark contrast to the utter void he escaped; single bright images were captured in his mind before the world once more went black. The images were accompanied by sounds, smells, and thoughts, but each was separate, out of context, and made little sense.
This mental photo album contained multiple images of the carpet on his office floor, the wall of a hospital cubical, the canopy of trees in the forest, the wood panelling of his boat Elizabeth, and most recently, the ceiling of the lighthouse living space. Other than his last venture into consciousness in the lighthouse, Carlisle had been close by, either faint, as if through a doorway, or as close as touching. He had also been vaguely aware of Will and the Maestro's presence, almost seeming to perform cameo roles in his mind.
The very first image had been of his office in the conservatory and, a detailed image of the carpet on the floor. The only activity was behind the door to his left where he could hear, both with his ears and his mind, Carlisle, Maestro, and Will. The tone of which made him cringe and dive back into the darkness.
Next was of the wall of a hospital. Aware of both Carlisle and Will, he tried to rouse further, but hearing the conflict he allowed the blackness to engulf him again.
When in the void, Edward was not floating, nor falling…he was trapped, trapped in a black hole in a hidden corner of his mind. In the past, when he had receded into his mind, he had always been fully alert and aware, and in many cases, had done so voluntarily. In contrast, this time he wandered in and out of cognizance with no control over the journey, clinging to a vague level of awareness which slipped away the tighter he tried to hold on to it.
During Carlisle's absence, Edward managed to tentatively raise his awareness level, taking in more of his surroundings. Looking down, he noted he was in the same clothing from days ago. The only notable difference was one of the sleeves of his shirt was ripped from wrist to armpit, revealing a filthy and tatty bandage: the shape of which made him cringe to think what was under there.
Edward tried to move, but his body would not cooperate and his mind protested; the edges of his vision starting to grey. Staying excruciatingly still, almost panting with the effort to stay conscious, he stretched out his hearing, both audio and mental, trying to locate Carlisle.
After a time, he became most aware of his thirst as it grew; his single hope was that Carlisle will have found something for him to feed on. As time went by, he began to slip back into the darkness and started to babble out loud, crying for Carlisle's return, begging for his mate's forgiveness, or whimpering in self-pity at his current situation.
Edward's eyes lolled about, struggling to not roll to the back of his head, as he fought to remain conscious. A tickle in his mind slowly grabbed his attention; focusing as best he could, he 'heard' in the distance a faint thought, the familiarity of which could only be Carlisle.
Listening to Carlisle's approach, Edward became increasing aware that something was not right. His mates thoughts were racing; they reminded him of the thoughts of drug addicts they had encountered, rapid and flighty, the mind unable to focus or concentrate. Suddenly, a thought escaped that shocked Edward to the core. An image of human blood - Carlisle drinking human blood reached him. He focused as best he could and could almost see Carlisle twitching and writhing, eyes flicking to his blood source, hand firmly rubbing his erect length. The thoughts of lust and desire emanating from Carlisle were overshadowed by a singular need for possession - fierce unyielding possession.
For the first time since he was turned, Edward saw Carlisle as a vampire, a deadly predator who lived by want, and all that would appease the monsters rapacious need and lust was Edward.
Edward's breath hitched, and in his rising panic, started to loose hold of his tenuous grip on reality. His body and mind united in their desire to flee, trying to make him as small as possible in a futile attempt to shield against the thoughts and hungers emanating from Carlisle. He knew what it was like to imbibe human blood and in his weakened state he knew he would be able to provide no resistance to his blood glutted sires advances.
The last thing he recalled, before he blacked out, were the markings underneath Carlisle's writing desk, where, in his panic, he had wedged himself and rocked in jerky movements while his mind sank back into its prison.
~*.*~
...Desire!
...Covet!
...Need!
...Agitation!
...Fondle!
...Stroke!
...Throb!
...Control!
...Possess!
...Violate!
...Gash!
...Take!
...Plunder!
...Release!
...Tear!
...Frenzy!
...Euphoric!
...Satiated!
~*.*~
Edward lay face down, trying not to move, the weight of his satiated sire pushing him into the mattress, the feel of the others solid organ, still turgid from the human blood, slowly slipped out of him as the other started to relax after his extensive period of gratification. The feel of the ejaculate expelling from his body made Edward flinch, the small amount of venom compound in the liquid stung as it dribbled past the nicks and tears in his rectum. The body above him shifted; Edward froze, hoping that he hadn't done anything that would set his sire off on another brutal assault.
Edward could tell from the whispers of normal thought starting to emerge in Carlisle's mind that the human blood was losing its grip, but for how long? Edward knew there was more blood somewhere in the lighthouse and was not sure if he had a chance of stopping Carlisle, now that the other truly had a taste for the real thing.
Edward knew how it felt to drink, really drink, human blood. Carlisle had had no idea what taking in those first large gulps of blood was like. They were life changing, your system became overwhelmed, there was no you, no I, there was just the Monster; the beast within that killed and maimed and took whatever it wanted without care or mercy.
He knew the being that had come into the lighthouse and brutalised him was not Carlisle. His Carlisle was buried under the monster, most likely kicking and screaming at what it had done. His Carlisle would be back; but as much as he believed that, he stayed pressed into the mattress, not moving or making any noise, because for the moment, the monster was in charge.
An increase in the shifting and twitching on top of him, alerted Edward to Carlisle's plan to pull up and off him. Making no movement or sound, Edward allowed himself to be lifted from the bed and carried into the bathroom. He ignored the soothing words of "let's get you cleaned up," and "what a mess you are, how did you get so filthy," coming from the other as if Edward was a child, while slowly and gently removing the torn clothing left after the assault. The care was in stark contrast with the brutality of the assault, and he unconsciously leaned into Carlisle, desperately praying for his husband to come back.
He watched as this distinctly different Carlisle turned on the bath water, adding salts as an afterthought, then lifted Edward, allowing him to slide into the water. Sat in the warm water, Edward remained still, unsure as to what may set Carlisle off again.
The water allowed Edward to relax; even with Carlisle cleaning his body, washing the blood from his hair and combing it smooth, he could feel the evidence of the rape washing away. Daring to delve into Carlisle's thoughts, he was relieved to find that the bathing (the familiarity of touch and smell), was doing much to relax Carlisle in the wake of so much frenzied activity. However, Edward was not sure if he was worried or relieved that Carlisle had gaps in his thoughts, as if he couldn't really quite remember the events of the day.
But underneath it all, was Carlisle's growing thirst for what remained in his backpack. These thoughts were not of his caring and loving mate, this was the monster. He needed to seek help to rescue Carlisle from his blood lust. Trying to ignore his body being touched and washed by his attacker, Edward tried to plan how he could flee, to find one that would be willing to help him rescue Carlisle's soul.