"Edward, stop. What's going on?"
They were in their bedroom where Edward was busy throwing clothes haphazardly into a suitcase. He didn't look up when she placed a hand on his upper arm.
"Just get your stuff, Bella. We're leaving."
Bella knew she would follow this man into the very depths of hell should he ask, but his behavior right now was irrational, and she wasn't having any of it. Grabbing his arm, she used her superior strength to pull him away from his frenzied task to look at her.
"No, Edward, we're not. At least, not until you explain yourself."
At that moment, Emmett burst through the door and stopped dead when he saw what was happening. "Hey, dude, what are you doing?" There was no element of censure in his voice, just curiosity.
Edward looked up at the big man and grimaced. "Alice …" He shook his head.
"Yeah, I know; something bad's coming, but she says we need you guys."
Edward dragged a hand roughly through his hair, a pained expression on his face. "Emmett, I'm sorry, but we need to go. I can't risk Bella—"
"Now, you stop right there, mister. I don't care what Alice saw, but if anyone in this house is under threat, then we're staying."
Edward watched as she folded her arms, and her beautiful face took on a mulish caste.
"But, Bella—"
"But me no buts, Edward Anthony Masen. These people are not just our friends, they're our family, and we are going nowhere."
With a sigh, the object of her ire sat heavily on the bed and dropped his head. Behind him, he heard Emmett quietly tell Bella to just come back up to the house when they were ready, and then he was gone. He felt her sit down beside him and take his hand. She didn't speak and for a while they were silent as she let him get things straight in his head. She had learned early on in their relationship that this was his way, and she was content to wait.
For Edward, his dichotomy was one he was still coming to terms with. He had been alone for so long before Bella, and even as a child, his fragmented memories were of a rather solitary, bookish boy, having no siblings and a distant father. He knew he had loved his mother, and she him, but as was the norm in a well-to-do family in the American East of the mid-nineteenth century, he was initially raised by a nanny and, thereafter, discouraged by his father and his peers from being a "momma's boy". It had set him on the path of somewhat forced independence, which eventually manifested in a desire for adventure, much like his father, who had emigrated from England to New York in 1815.
A clever and ambitious young man, Edward Masen Senior had quickly made a name for himself as a civil engineer during New York's phenomenal expansion into one of the great cities of the world in the early 1800s. At the age of thirty-eight, he had met and married twenty-year-old debutante, Elizabeth Shawcross, the daughter of wealthy New York socialites and a famed beauty. Whether it was a love match, Edward never really knew, as his memories were far too hazy to conjure up any evidence of a shared passion, but there was no doubt that becoming the son-in-law of Roscoe Shawcross proved an advantageous move. Before the ink was barely dry on the new Mrs. Masen's thank you notes, her husband had decided that a new challenge awaited him in the rapidly developing town of Chicago, which had just been incorporated and which he could see would become a major trading hub. He judged that city status could hardly be far behind, and he wanted to be in on the ground floor.
Born in 1837, the year that Chicago had, indeed, been incorporated as a city, Edward Junior had been brought up to be a gentleman, and his father, as owner of his own engineering company and a prominent Chicagoan captain of industry, expected his only son to follow in his footsteps, an ambition the younger man secretly railed against.
Everything changed, of course, just as Edward turned nineteen and a particularly virulent cholera epidemic swept through the city. There had been many such epidemics in the past, but few had been so egalitarian in their reach, this time killing rich and poor alike. Fortunately for young Edward, he was immersed in his engineering studies at Columbia in New York but was called back when his father became sick. In the time it took him to make the journey back to Chicago, the Masen patriarch was dead, and his mother would quickly follow him. Within hours of his arrival, she, too, had succumbed, and her son was suddenly an orphan—albeit a wealthy one.
At first, bereft and adrift, he had returned to college following the double funeral—which, in hindsight, had saved his life, in that it took him away from the epicenter of infection. But it had quickly dawned on him that he didn't need to continue with the studies he had so reluctantly signed on for, and the combination of inheriting a substantial fortune, a lack of any specific plan, and the immaturity of youth had led him on a steep, downward spiral.
In the early hours of a moonless night some three months later, Edward had been drunkenly stumbling down a dark alley he used as a shortcut to his New York apartment when a silky female voice had penetrated his brain fog. Surprised, he had turned to discover a beautiful, well-dressed woman sashaying coquettishly toward him. To his befuddled mind, it seemed as though one moment she was twenty yards away and the next she was right in front of him. She smiled, and something about her made Edward wary as he intuitively understood that she represented a threat, despite her gender. Everything about her, from her too perfect smile to her demeanor and body language telegraphed danger, and notwithstanding the incongruity of that assumption, Edward had long since learned to trust his instincts and his generally infallible ability to read people. That ability now alerted him to the fact that he was in dire peril and that he may well be unable to escape. As this thought flittered through his mind, the woman reached up and, with unexpected strength, pulled his head down and nuzzled his neck. Before he could fathom quite what was happening, he felt the sharp sting of her teeth sinking into his jugular, and he was immediately paralyzed by a fiery pain, the like of which he had never before imagined possible. In those moments when he felt his life's blood being drained, an odd voice that was not his own seemed to fill his head. He couldn't identify the words, but he was filled with the sensation of desire, regret, and a desperate loneliness.
Suddenly, despite the intolerable agony, he was aware that his blood was no longer being taken from him and that he seemed to be moving through the air at an unfathomable speed. After that, there was nothing but the fire.
For hours, days, perhaps even years, he was consumed by the flames of what must surely be his imminent demise, and it was a mystery to him that he was still alive—if, indeed, he was alive. Perhaps his behavior following the deaths of his parents had finally consigned him to a Hell he had previously been unsure existed. But as his heart raced toward its final throes, he was conscious that, in the last hours of his human existence, the pain had begun to recede until, mercifully, it was gone.
Edward woke, three days after that life-changing meeting, to find his maker watching him. Speaking with a soft Irish lilt, the raven-haired beauty introduced herself as Siobhan Keenan and told him everything would be okay, that they were going to have a wonderful life together.
But there had been a sub-text. As Edward listened with a rising panic, he heard the same voice he'd heard before, but it seemed to be inside his head. What's more, it sounded like some kind of internal monologue, one that never ceased.
It drove him mad.
Edward hadn't exaggerated when he had told Bella that it had taken him months to get used to the voices in his head and years more to find a way to deal with them. There had been no wonderful life with Siobhan, who did her best to guide and help him, but his mind-reading ability quickly wore her down, and Edward had found it impossible to deal with the aged vampire's deeply rooted psychoses and almost crippling depression. She had lived too long and had killed too many innocents to maintain her sanity. She wanted him to stay, if only to assuage her desperate loneliness, but couldn't bear for him to be near her, so when, after he'd survived the newborn phase and learned some control, he told her he was leaving, she had let him go without a word.
The years that followed were hard for Edward, but Siobhan's near-madness had taught him an important lesson; one that was, conversely, aided by the ability he still considered to be a curse. He vowed that if he had to be privy to the thoughts of others, he would use that ability to select his victims. And although he was wary of the solitude that had clearly unbalanced his maker's mind, he knew himself well enough to know that his psyche was very different from hers.
Thus had Edward made his way through the years, seeking out companionship when needed and embracing solitude when the voices got too much. He learned about and honed his vampire skills and fed on those he deemed unworthy of life. He expected to remain alone forever and sometimes wondered whether he, like Siobhan, would eventually lose all semblance of sanity. Throughout the years, he had never had to worry about anyone except himself. He rubbed shoulders with the kind of people who knew about money and investments but who would never knowingly share such valuable knowledge, and his fortune grew. This, in turn, provided him with a secure and comfortable life that he enjoyed, while allowing him to retain sufficient anonymity to ensure his true nature remained hidden. He supposed he was as content as it was possible for him to be, and he steadfastly refused to let himself admit to being lonely.
Fast-forward nearly 170 years, and Edward felt utterly blindsided by the shocking turn of events. He could barely remember his biological family and, to all intents and purposes, had spent almost the entirety of his existence on earth alone. He had never known what it was to be in love until he met Bella, nor had he any real frame of reference for his feelings about the Cullens, who, as his wife had just so vehemently pointed out, were not just friends but were, indeed, family, their lives having become inextricably and irrevocably tied together by a bond he struggled to understand but, nevertheless, embraced wholeheartedly.
He felt Bella gently squeeze his hand, causing him to finally look at her.
He loved this woman so deeply, so profoundly, that it was impossible for him now to imagine his life without her. And was it not she who had led him, via Alice's constant chivvying, to this wonderful, random, precious band of vampires who had quickly taken up residence in his silent heart?
Nodding once, Edward knew Bella was right. His first instinct may have been to protect his mate above all else, but he now knew that he absolutely could not—would not—abandon his family. Whatever was coming their way, they would all deal with it together.
Standing, he pulled Bella to her feet.
"I guess we need to head back up to the house and find out what's happening."
He spoke softly as he gazed into Bella's beautiful pale amber eyes and was rewarded with a smile that warmed him from the inside. She pressed a grateful kiss to his willing lips before taking his hand and leading him out of the house. They strolled together at human speed along the path through the woods, but all too soon, they were passing through the open patio doors to join the others where they sat around the large dining table, taking the two empty seats between Alice and Rosalie.
Carlisle smiled grimly and turned to Alice.
"Okay, Alice, this is your show. Please tell us what you saw."
Alice momentarily dropped her head, causing Jasper to grip her hand and, as she looked up at him, smile encouragingly.
"Okay, so Edward will have seen some of this, but you guys know I've seen more, and it's starting to crystalize in my head." She sighed, closing her eyes for a second. Then she seemed to shake herself and, extracting her hand from Jasper's, leaned forward and rested her clasped hands on the table. Looking around at everyone, she explained what she had seen and what she thought it meant.
"There are three vampires heading this way—nomads, by the look of it—and they'll be here around midday tomorrow. Two males and a female, and they're not a pleasant bunch—well, two of them, certainly, are the type who like to, shall we say, play with their food. We need to somehow persuade them to keep moving north, but I see … I'm not sure … difficulties?"
She seemed so unsure, which was unlike Alice, and Carlisle mirrored her position.
"Can you see the cause, Alice?"
"I … I'm not sure, Carlisle. It's almost like … like the leader of the group is looking for something, or someone, but he doesn't want the others to know. I don't think any of them are mated, but it's all so confused."
She grasped her head at the temples, seemingly trying to shake the vision into some semblance of order.
Edward spoke then. "There's something else, isn't there, something you're not telling us."
Again, she sighed, dropping her hands and looking his way. "It's not that I'm trying to keep it from you, I just can't make sense of it. You know my visions rely on the decisions that others make and that I'm only seeing these vampires because they're heading our way and will interact with us. But I'm also getting flashes of … of the Volturi and … God, I don't know; I just don't understand it!"
She shook her head in frustration, looking around the table as if begging for understanding. It was Esme—of course—who rose from her chair and came to wrap her arms around the little dark-haired vampire, offering warmth and comfort, which Alice gratefully accepted.
"Could these three be from the Volturi, sweetheart?" Jasper asked quietly.
As Esme retook her seat, Alice turned to her husband. "No, I'm pretty sure they're nomads, but maybe … I don't know … maybe they know about us, that they're specifically looking for us, and that they intend to report us for some reason to the Volturi? I just don't know; I'm grasping at straws here."
They all seemed to ponder this for a moment until Edward looked to Carlisle.
"So, what do you think? Should we present a show of force and send them on their way, or back off, take to the woods, and let them think there's just, say, me and Emmett here?"
To his surprise, it was Rosalie who spoke next.
"Why don't we all just leave, make it look like the house is empty, and then they'll just pass on through?"
"No!" Alice exclaimed.
All eyes turned to her.
"Sorry, but that won't work. If we leave the house unoccupied, they'll just break in and start searching it. And they won't leave."
Bella reached out to rub her friend's shoulder. "But what are they looking for, Alice?"
Slumping in defeat, she shook her head. "I've no idea. I think this is where we'll need to rely on Edward. Honestly, I've run a few scenarios through my head and the only way seems to be that we present a united front. But no matter how I try to manipulate the visions, it all still seems to end in a fight. And I always see the Volturi—it's just the location that changes."
Carlisle frowned. "The location? What do you mean?"
"I'm not sure, Carlisle. Sometimes it seems to be here at the house, sometimes on the Olympic plateau, and other times … in Castle Volterra. It's all so muddled and makes no damned sense!"
They all felt the wave of calm Jasper tried to send out, but it lasted for mere moments as worry for his beloved mate first diluted its effect and then caused it to dissipate completely.
Carlisle gazed around the table, making eye contact with each of them in turn, before speaking decisively.
"Then there's nothing we can do except wait and play it by ear. Edward, you need to extend your mind as far as possible so we might get a sense of what they want. Alice, I know you'll keep trying to see what might transpire. I'll go into work as usual but will listen out for hospital gossip—you all know I try to keep tabs on any possible rumors about us, but I'll also try to find out if anyone's talking about missing people or unexplained deaths. There are always cops around, waiting to talk to victims or injured criminals, so I'll see if I can find anything out from them.
"Jasper, I know you will want to stay close to Alice, but Esme and Rosalie, I'd like you to head into town for a shopping trip and keep your ears close to the ground. Emmett, can you do a wide perimeter sweep to check if anything is amiss? We all need to hunt tonight as I want us all at our sharpest and strongest. If Alice is right, and a fight is inevitable, I don't want us to be vulnerable. I know there are only three of them to our eight, but we have no idea of their strengths or possible talents."
"Carlisle, what about me?" Bella sensed that her surrogate father had a specific role for her.
"Ahh, yes, Bella. Well, you are perhaps our greatest asset. I want you to stay close to Edward and Alice, because they are our only window into what these nomads intend, and they must be protected."
Edward huffed. "I'm pretty sure I can take care of myself, Carlisle!"
"I don't doubt it, son, but you may well get distracted by the thoughts of these strangers, and Bella is the only one of us who can provide protection without resorting to violence."
Bella looked down, biting her lip.
"What is it, my dear?"
Looking up at the handsome blond vampire she had grown to love almost as much as her own dear father, she shook her head.
"I appreciate the faith you have in me, Carlisle, but I've only just begun to test my shield, and I have no idea how strong it is or how it might hold up against a concerted attack."
He smiled. "I understand your concern, but I'm pretty sure my faith isn't misplaced. I don't think you're aware of just how powerful Kate's gift is and yet you batted it aside as if it was nothing. On top of that, you still have considerable newborn strength, which is also channeled into your shield. Besides, although your contribution will, I'm sure, be key to getting us through this, it's still only part of our considerable arsenal. We will ensure our success and, perhaps, our very survival by working together."
Esme leaned into him, rubbing his back and placing a kiss at his temple. He turned to her, cupping her face with his hands and capturing her lips with his. At last, pulling back, he faced his family once more.
"Now, we all know what we're doing, so let's go about our business. We'll all meet back here at nine o'clock this evening to hunt."
With that, they all dispersed, and Edward and Bella returned to their cottage. There was nothing they could do to prepare, but they immediately took the opportunity to reconnect physically while trying hard not to let themselves ponder on when they might get another chance to do so.
~o0o~
Morning was late arriving, the winter sun invisible above a thick blanket of gray cloud lying across a sodden, chilly day. Tension within the Cullen house was a heavy, tangible thing. Not for the first time, Bella found herself wondering if having access to the future through Alice's fragmented visions was necessarily helpful. Her musings were fleeting, however, as she knew full well that being forewarned must be forearmed. It was just the waiting that was so hard to deal with.
At first, she had taken herself off to Carlisle's wonderful library, which took up most of one wing of the large mansion, but even curled up with a first edition of Dickens' Bleak House in her favorite wing-back chair next to the unlit fireplace, she had found it hard to keep her mind from wandering. Eventually, she had to concede defeat, setting her book aside and heading into the main living room where she found the boys playing the new version of Super Mario Bros. They were enjoying the game and the camaraderie, but she could tell their banter and laughter were muted. As she passed by the back of the sofa they were sitting on, she ran her hand lightly through Edward's hair, almost an instinctive reconnection, but she didn't linger, even as he glanced up with a smile.
In the large kitchen, Bella found the Cullen women gathered, talking quietly. She had to frown a little at the fact that, even in the second decade of the twenty-first century, they seemed to fall into such outdated stereotypical behaviors. She supposed it was because all of them were born in the early 1900s, whereas she was a child of the new millennium, raised by a single father who had always encouraged her to rail against gender bias. Indeed, it was likely why she had been so reluctant to accept the role that Jacob and his father had mapped out for her after Charlie's death. Now, however, she found herself taking comfort in the company of these very disparate women, having lacked any real female companionship throughout her life. Seeming to sense Bella's inner turmoil, Esme reached out to draw her into their midst where they sat around the centrally placed oak and tile island.
"How are you doing, my dear?" Esme asked with a warm smile.
"Yeah, fine, I guess, just a bit—"
Before she could finish, they all saw Alice stiffen and glaze over. A moment later, her shoulders dropped, and she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.
"They're nearly here."
They rose as one and moved at vampire speed into the sitting room, where the men awaited them. From his study, Carlisle immediately joined them, smiling at the tense wall of vampires standing stoically, as if awaiting the command to let slip the dogs of war and cry havoc!
"Relax, people, let's at least try to look as though we weren't expecting them. Come on, boys, why don't you get back to your game, and, Edward, it would be wonderful to hear you play something."
Bella clasped his hand and looked up at him. "Oh, yes, Edward, please play for us."
It had been a huge surprise for her when they first arrived in Wisconsin to discover that Edward not only played the piano, but that he played it incredibly well. The Cullen home—or mansion, as she thought of it—had a dedicated music room, which housed a beautiful ebony grand piano, and Edward had been knocked out by it, especially when Carlisle and Esme had insisted he play it whenever he wanted. Bella had asked him why he didn't have one at his loft where there was definitely enough space, but he had explained that it was too much hassle to move from place to place. He didn't elaborate that it was a rare memory from his childhood and teens that he had found too difficult to dwell upon. It was only in the last year, wrapped in the love of this exquisite woman, her words today echoing those of his mother from so long ago, that he felt able to embrace the memory in the way Jasper had so recently described.
Now, though, he took a seat at the stunning instrument, his wife beside him, and started playing her favorite piece, Debussy's Clair de Lune.
Meanwhile, Emmett and Jasper returned to their game, now joined by a highly competitive Rosalie.
Mere minutes later, Edward heard their visitors' minds, although he continued the piece he was playing while softly alerting the others.
"They're coming through the forest at the back of the house … past the cottage … they're making their way round to the front …"
As he spoke, the doorbell rang, and Esme stood to answer it. From where they sat in the main living room and music room, they heard her greet the strangers.
"Mrs. Cullen?" The male voice had a slight French lilt.
"Yes. May I help you?"
"We were passing through and heard that a Carlisle Cullen resided here, and we wondered whether you might provide three nomads with a chance to clean up and maybe get a change of clothes. We've been travelling for some months."
"Of course. Please, won't you come in." Esme, her natural kindness shining through, showed no sign of the anxiety she was surely feeling.
The next moment, the whole of the Cullen clan gathered together as the three strangers entered the room and looked around. Slightly to the fore was a dreadlocked vampire, his undead pallor doing little to hide his African heritage.
"I am Laurent, and my friends here—" he gestured behind him "—are James and Victoria. Thank you for inviting us into your beautiful home."
He seemed genuine enough, although his friends seemed less impressed. They made for a very scruffy and disheveled trio, and it was a challenge for their hosts not to wrinkle their noses at the stench of dirt and dried blood.
It was James who drew Edward's attention, although he maintained a blank mask as he regarded the unkempt man in front of him. Maroon eyes narrowed in a chiseled, superficially handsome face as he took in Edward's scrutiny before settling fixedly upon Alice. His thoughts were all of Alice, and to Edward's horror, he quickly ascertained that the visitor knew her.
Beside him, the lone female in the small group was tall and pretty with a mass of orange curls falling loose around her shoulders. While her companion seemed focused wholly on the dark-haired seer, Victoria was now staring with equal intensity at Edward, who, had he been less distracted by the thoughts of James, might have taken more note of those of his female companion.
Just as Esme opened her mouth to respond to Laurent, Victoria stepped forward with a broad smile on her porcelain face.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the delicious Edward Masen … long time no see!"
A/N: Dun, dun, duuunnn!
First, my apologies for the lack of review responses - this week just totally got away from me. Needless to say, I love to read your wonderful feedback - it's like a drug and I so need that fix! Secondly, sorry about the cliffie ... well, not that sorry, of course, because you guys know how much I love to leave you hanging. I'll be ramping the action up from here on in, so buckle up, my friends, there's turbulence a-coming!