14. HUNT
AFTER ANOTHER MILE OR SO I CAUGHT THE SCENT OF A SMALL WOLF
pack about fifty meters to the northwest.
"Do you smell anything?" I asked Kristalene, watching her face with near adoration as she sniffed the air and cocked her head to the side, trying to determine which scent I was referring to.
"I smell lots of things," she finally answered, frustrated. I chuckled softly.
"Well, once you realize what we're hunting, you'll be able to identify and isolate the scent later. To the northwest, by the boulders. Do you smell it?"
Again she sniffed the air, listening intently, her brow furrowed in concentration. I couldn't help but feel a warm affection for the girl, reminiscent of feelings I had had watching Renesmee focus fixedly on one of her many endeavors. I listened closely so I could better guide her. I could hear the wind coming out of the trees into a small clearing, hitting the side of the massive rocks. I could hear the three distinct adult heartbeats, and three lighter, faster heartbeats. Pups.
Finally Kristalene's head jerked up and she looked at me, her nose wrinkled.
"That?" she asked, trying to keep the distaste from her voice. I couldn't help laughing out loud. Even Alice chortled at her reaction.
"Well, they don't smell as good as humans," Alice conceded, still grinning.
"Or taste as good," I muttered. Alice elbowed me swiftly in the ribs.
"So, we're hunting wolves." Kristalene sighed loudly, then straightened determinedly. "Let's go, then."
I led the way, moving like a wraith in a wide arc so I would approach the wolves downwind. We all moved noiselessly, ghosts in the night. I felt the "click" in my head as my body switched over to instinct, to hunter. I could hear the light breathing of an adult -- a mother -- with the soft sighing breaths of the pups nearby her. I heard the large male shifting in the leaves, pacing, then laying down, keeping guard over his pack. I heard the deep heavy breaths of another wolf -- I couldn't be sure if it were a lesser male or another female -- already fast asleep. And I heard another, smaller than the male, circling her bed, matting down the leaves before she flopped down into them. The pack was bedding down for the night.
Alice, Kristalene, and I came to a stop on one of the massive boulders above the small band. We stood as still as statues, becoming an outcropping of the stone. We made no sound and the wolves couldn't smell us. This didn't look like it was going to be quite the exciting fray I had been hoping for, but I placated myself that it would be a good exercise for Kristalene's first animal hunt. The wolves were quite large, I saw with some satisfaction. Far bigger than those in Forks or even in Alaska. They didn't look quite large enough to drag off and devour a human, but maybe these were small specimen. The thought brightened my outlook.
Just then the wind shifted to the west and the leader and two of the females became rigid. The alpha jumped to his feet, pacing and looking around. He let out a long wailing howl -- a warning, whether to us or the pack I couldn't be sure. The mother shoved the pups to alertness and dashed off towards the woods. I let her go. I had no desire to kill puppies, and depriving them of their mother at this age would be tantamount to a death sentence.
"It's now or never," I grinned devilishly at Kristalene, then launched myself like a bullet off the stone precipice at the grand male wolf.
I heard the sleeping wolf, a female I could see now, yelp in surprise and take off into the trees. The other female seemed to have a little more gumption. She growled defiantly at Alice, who circled her like a shark, waiting to pounce. I heard the whoosh of wind as Kristalene took off into the trees after the retreating female. I focused all my attention back on the male. He was quite large, I noted with approval, and mean. He was defending his family, and he would fight to the last breath to protect them. I admired his courage, his protectiveness. Edward had a theory that our hunting preferences were indicative of our hunting styles, our personalities. Emmett preferred bears, and his similarity to the beasts was clear. Bears were all about brute strength, instinct. They relied purely on their massive build and power, using little or no strategy. If they got their arms around you, got you in their grasp, there was no escape, but for all that they were easily outwitted. Edward on the other hand, was leonine, catlike. He perhaps strategized too much. He would circle and circle and lie in wait for his prey, always thinking, always planning. He was quick and efficient, but I thought he lacked a little of the gusto of the hunt.
Wolves, on the other hand, were a happy medium. They were strong and fierce, but they planned their attacks. They could work as a group -- the alpha directing the rest of the pack in pincer movements or steering the prey into a simple but effective trap -- but they could also hunt independently, relying on their instincts and sharp mental faculties to catch their prey. They could outrun them or trap them. They could force their backs up against a wall or circle and spring. They had a wide array of strategic ploys at their disposal, and they were quite capable of using whichever the situation demanded. I liked wolves. Not only their hunting style, but their loyalty to their packs as well. They could survive on their own, but they would defend their families to the death without a second thought. There was no thought in those situations -- it was instinctual.
But, as much as I admired the wolves, and this massive alpha before me, I was a vampire, and I was thirsty. As many Native Americans believed, it was a sign of respect to give this great animal this heroic death. Like a warrior, dying in battle. It was the kind of death I would wish for.
The silver-gray fur of the beast was glittering in the light of the moon -- nearly full -- his hackles up. His huge curved fangs gleamed in the light, bared and menacing. A long, low, uninterrupted growl was rumbling from his throat, threatening, warning me to back off. I saw no fear in him, though he must sense I was a worthy opponent, another fierce predator. We both circled, both lowered in hunting crouches, ready to strike. I debated whether I should attack first or let him come to me. The tense dance continued, each of us drawing closer, each of us readying for the fight.
Suddenly his huge muscles tensed and he launched himself forward at me, jaws snapping and gnashing. The force of his leap threw us both backward and I slammed into the granite boulder behind us. It didn't hurt, of course, but the wind was knocked from my body. It was an unpleasant sensation. A shower of pebbles fell over us as I wrestled with the immense wolf, a good hundred and fifty pounds of scratching ripping teeth and claws, and probably six feet in length from nose to tail.
Unfortunately for the wolf, all his strength and razor teeth were useless against my skin -- he may as well have been attacking the rock face for all the progress he was making. He seemed in some sort of frenzy, though, not becoming discouraged or surprised by his lack of headway. I knew how he felt. In the heat of battle, for a good soldier, the fight was all there was. Pain, blood, hopeless odds -- none of that mattered, none of that even registered. You fought, tooth and nail, until you won or you were dead. That was the way of a warrior.
I wrestled with the wolf for a few minutes, enjoying the battle, the fray. In the end, though, I began to feel it was cruel to draw out his inevitable death. I allowed him one last attempted tear at my throat, his teeth scratching across my skin with a sound like nails on a chalkboard, and then, with his throat only centimeters from my mouth, I finally sank my teeth into his warm flesh like a steel trap snapping shut. I felt my jaw tear through the fur and thin skin, the layer of fat, through the sinew and tough muscle. The hot blood spilled over the wound, running down my chin and neck, and the wolf gurgled, shuddering involuntarily. Slowly the tension left his muscles, with a spasm or two of ebbing life, and he slumped against my chest, pressing me down with his inert weight. I extricated myself from his massive frame and drank the blood hungrily. It wasn't as good as human blood, but it was certainly the best predator I had yet discovered. Thick, meaty, warm. Not the tangy, slightly "off" taste of deer and elk.
I drained the wolf and wiped my chin and throat. I was usually pretty good about keeping my clothes clean -- Alice insisted upon conserving the designer garments -- but I had been more intent on the kill than usual and I hadn't been as careful. Unfortunately the ferocious canine had ripped large gashes into the chest and sleeves of my shirt, and a long tear ran down my slacks the length of my thigh. Oh well, I sighed, quickly dismissing the injuries to the clothing. It would give Alice an excuse to shop. Again.
I turned to see Alice reclining against the trunk of a young oak watching me with an amused expression.
"Did you enjoy that?" she smirked, then pursed her lips as she noticed the tattered clothing. "Oh, Jasper, do I need to dress you in a smock when you hunt? For Pete's sake, that was my favorite Moschino -- the color was perfect with your skin." She sighed dramatically. I grinned, though, unrepentant. In the blink of an eye I was at her side and had swooped her into my arms. I nuzzled her cheek and pressed my lips to the tip of her nose. She tried to push me back, no doubt to keep her own clothes spotless.
"Like you don't have this shirt in eight different colors back at home," I grinned.
She held the exasperated look on her face, but I could tell it took her some effort.
"But the 'sand dune' was my favorite," she repeated, pulling at a tatter of fabric on my chest. I rolled my eyes, turning her toward the woods.
"I guess the 'desert tan' will have to do, then." She sighed again. "So where's Kristalene?" I asked, following her scent a few meters into the treeline. I felt a slight -- and unreasonable -- pang of fear with her out of my sight. Maybe Edward wasn't so ridiculous about Renesmee after all.
"She ran off after the other female," Alice purred, smiling smugly, "She did very well. Caught her in about two seconds, but she was a little hesitant to taste..." her proud smile faltered a moment, her brow furrowing slightly.
I saw Kristalene another six yards into the woods and swiftly walked to stand by her, setting Alice down lightly on the mossy loam. Kristalene was posed over the lifeless wolf, apparently not quite sure how to proceed.
"What's the matter?" I asked, concerned.
She met my gaze and her expression was so comical I had to laugh. Her nose was wrinkled again in distaste, her brows angled in a martyred expression.
"It --" she hesitated, "it doesn't smell very good."
Alice laughed aloud too.
"It takes some getting used to," she agreed, patting her student encouragingly on the back, "but I promise, it's not that bad." I didn't respond. Although I didn't mind animals now -- though they would never compare to humans -- the first few years I had converted to the "vegetarian" diet I had been revolted. It was like going from filet mignon to dog food. It was edible, but it was hardly good.
Kristalene gave her a skeptical look, but, with one more hesitant movement, bent down and took a long gulp of the wolf's blood. She raised her head, seeming to smack the aftertaste on her tongue before looking back to us.
"Well, it's not terrible," she allowed. The dark woods rang with the peals of mine and Alice's amusement.
* * * *
"So tell me about your lives," Kristalene said, drawing absently in the dirt with a long oak stick. The three of us sat near a small brook, downwind from a herd of the endangered bison that were sleeping obliviously in an open field two hundred yards away from us. Every now and then they would shift or sigh, sometimes standing and moving to a different spot, but they didn't notice our presence. Alice lay with her head in my lap, turning a pebble over and over in her smooth hands as I brushed my fingers through her short locks.
"What do you want to know?" I asked.
"You are American. Where do you come from? How were you changed? Did you always know each other or did you meet ... later? How did you know to hunt animals..." she looked down, embarrassed by her onslaught of questions. I was sure if she could blush she would. I grinned. She must be just as curious about us as we had been about her. She had more self-restraint than I did -- obviously -- to have reigned in her curiosity for so long.
"I was born in Texas," I began, and gave her the brief history of my human life and my own transformation. I hesitated a bit when I got to the part about my role as Maria's "newborn babysitter" and instructor -- and executioner. I was almost afraid that she would be frightened of me if I told her the truth about what I had been, what I had done.
Alice, though, squeezed my hand comfortingly and interjected, "Jasper was born in a different sort of place. He didn't know there was anything else, like you. His creator was greedy and vengeful, she brought war and death with her. She used Jasper to help her -- as I said, he didn't know there was anything else."
I wanted to thank her for the euphemistic portrayal of the darkest parts of my past, but I couldn't quite meet Kristalene's eyes. It wasn't a lie exactly, but Alice made it sound like I had no choice, like I was a prisoner. In truth, there was a part of me that had reveled in the battles, in the bloodshed. I was good at what I did and it was exhilarating rushing headlong into a throng of gnashing newborns and ripping and tearing and crushing until I was the only one left standing. It was sick, sadistic, not something I was proud of, but that had been the truth of it.
"I've done some awful things," I admitted in a whisper. "It's true I didn't know any other life existed, but it was nearly a hundred years before I even went to see what else was out there. I'm hardly an innocent victim," I laughed wryly, snapping a shard of stone by my feet into pieces with a twist of my fingers. One of the bison looked up at the noise then slowly settled back into sleep.
"But you did choose something else," Alice pointed out, stroking my hand. "Maria is still in Texas, still fighting and killing. She chose hate." She sat up and held my chin, pulling my face so that I had to meet her gaze. "You chose love."
"Yes," I nodded solemnly, "I chose you." I kissed her tenderly for just a moment before I remembered the child in our midst and recollected myself. "Yes, eventually I left and tried to find a different life. I was still depressed, though. I thought if I just got away from the fighting and hatred I would be content, but I wasn't. I don't know if the old one in Bialoweiza ever told you, but many of our kind have ... abilities. Things they can do other than the strength and speed and all that."
Kristalene looked puzzled, so I continued, "Well, some of our kind can do things. Alice and I both can." She looked intrigued, almost awed.
"What can you do?" she asked slowly, but I could feel the excitement behind her words. Her eyes were bright with curiosity. Alice smiled.
"Well, I can control people's emotions, and feel them as well. I can make you calm or excited, happy or sad, and I can feel what you are feeling."
"Really?"
I raised my eyebrow and the corner of my lips in a grin. I let my power creep over her, feeling it like an invisible sliding fog, almost oily but thick, somehow, rolling over the child in front of me in a mode I could nearly taste, an intangible something I could feel, a "sixth sense," as it were. Some humans had a touch of my ability, a hint. Many humans could just "sense" others' emotions in a way they could not explain, in a way they could just feel. Intangible, untouchable, unquantifiable, but there.
Kristalene's excited posture relaxed, her shoulders slumped, and her eyelids drooped.
"Jasper," Alice chided me, pushing her tiny hands against my chest in a motion that was meant to be rough. I recalled the fog abruptly, grinning. Kristalene shook her head, dazed, then snapped back to attention, staring at me wide-eyed.
"Wow," she whispered, "That's ... how ... how do you do it?" she asked, still awed. I chuckled.
"I don't know, it's just something I can do. My father has a theory that we bring something of our strongest human characteristics into this life with us when we are changed. I was very ... charismatic as a human. I could always convince people to do what I wanted, to talk them into feeling what I wanted. Now I don't need to talk." I shrugged, smirking at her obvious fascination. Alice rolled her eyes.
"Show off," she teased, smacking my shoulder with the back of her hand.
"Now Alice's gift is really something," I boasted, proud of my little angel, "She can see the future."
I grinned while I watched that sink in.
"The future?" Kristalene asked, even more amazed.
"Well, it's not exactly like that," Alice replied modestly, "I see the path someone's on while they're on it. I see what will happen with each decision they make."
"And the weather, and the stock market, and fashion trends," I added.
"Well yes, but nothing is absolute, with people anyway. Things are changing all the time."
"Still," Kristalene pondered thoughtfully, "I thought only God could know the future." Alice and I exchanged awkward glances. Kristalene's constant references to religion made me a little uncomfortable.
"Um, well," Alice stammered, not wanting to offend, "I don't know anything. I can only see what will happen according to a certain decision. If someone changes their mind, my vision changes."
"That is amazing, though," Kristalene said, her eyes alight with reverence and rapt interest. "Did you see me coming?"
"Not exactly," Alice smiled, "Not until you decided to come to the inn. It must have been a split-second decision, because you were inside before I had even gotten to Jasper to warn him." She laughed at the memory of our tense meeting. It was funny in the light of our close relationship now.
"Yes," Kristalene giggled, "I was on my way home, but I thought I smelled something strange, and I could hear everyone inside talking about outsiders. I thought I'd stop in and see what all the fuss was about."
"Well, I'm glad you did, darling," I said warmly, reaching forward to pat her knee. The movement was unconscious, I touched her without thinking. Only after my hand brushed her dress did I remember that she may be frightened of my proximity, frightened of my touch.
But she just smiled back, her emotions unchanging.
"So how did your ability affect your ... diet?" Kristalene asked, hinting for me to continue my story.
"Well, I told you I can feel others' emotions. Every time I ... fed ... I could feel everything my victims felt, feel their terror and pain as though it were my own. It became unendurable."
She muttered something then that sounded like an apology. I smiled at her to show her there was nothing to forgive.
"So I was wandering around, trying to feed as seldom as possible, wondering what I could do -- I had lost hope. When one day I ducked into a little diner to get out of the rain, and there was this little temptress waiting for me."
"Really? You knew he was coming?" She seemed pleased to hear the story of our meeting, the way a child listens to the story of her parents' first date.
"Yes, I knew he was coming. Eventually," Alice threw me a smile of mock exasperation, "I had seen him and I knew he was looking for me, for answers, and I knew we'd be together forever."
"But where did you come from?" Kristalene inquired. I felt Alice's emotions dip into sadness, but nothing was betrayed on her face. She continued in a light tone.
"Well, I don't remember anything of my human days. I found out only a few years ago that I had been ... in a hospital. There was one of our kind, a cruel hunter, who marked me as his quarry, but another, a kind one who worked at the hospital, saved me the only way he knew how. He changed me. Once I was a vampire the hunter had no interest, but he killed my maker in vengeance."
"Oh," Kristalene muttered again, looking at her hands.
"It's all right," Alice assured her, "I don't remember it. My clearest first memories are of Jasper." She leaned her body against my arm, then continued.
"I saw him and I knew we would meet, but it took some time to pinpoint the location." She grinned. "I knew he would be in Philadelphia and I knew it would rain, but it wasn't until an hour or so before he walked in that I knew the street he'd be on and then which diner he'd come into. I was very impatient."
"So you met and, what, it was love at first sight?" Kristalene asked hopefully. I tried to suppress the smile at her childish romantic notions, though they were not far from the truth.
"Well, once I was sure she wasn't going to try to kill me, yeah, it was pretty much love at first sight," the smile broke through now.
"I knew what he was looking for, and I had seen a family of our kind in the North that lived differently from the others I had met, who didn't take human lives. I told Jasper about them and we set off that very night to find them."
"They were a little surprised," I remembered with a smirk, "I'm sure you understand that I can be a little ... frightening," I nodded to my battle-scarred forearm where the skin was showing below the pushed-up sleeves.
"You were a little ... intimidating," Kristalene agreed with a grin, "at first."
"And now?" I asked, raising my eyebrow. I said it as a joke, but the question was real.
"Not now. Now I think you are ... both ... wonderful," she whispered the last word, embarrassed again. Alice beamed, and I could feel a huge smile breaking across my face.
"Well we are so happy we met you, little one," Alice cooed, stroking Kristalene's hand where it lay upon her leg. Kristalene didn't meet our gaze for a moment, but then she smiled, her eyes still curious.
"So the family up North, what did they do? Did they teach you to hunt?"
"Yes, after they got over the shock of my appearance and Alice knowing all their names, they welcomed us into the family. We've lived with them ever since. I consider them my family now, too."
"I didn't know vampires had ... families -- other than those they were born with, like me and Anya. The old one in Bialoweiza told me our kind usually travel alone or with a mate, occasionally in threes."
"Most of them do," Alice granted, "but feeding on animals makes it easier for us to live with many of our kind. For a time we lived with another family, and there were ten of us altogether."
Kristalene sucked in a breath in surprise.
"That's very uncommon though, and it proved to be too conspicuous for life among humans. Most of the time we live with seven others -- well, I guess that's almost as many, isn't it?"
"And the werewolf makes ten," I snorted, "One big, happy family."
"The werewolf?" Kristalene's tone rose an octave in surprise, "There are werewolves? And you live with one?"
"Well, technically he's not a werewolf, I suppose. He's a Native American, and those of a certain ancestral line in his tribe become wolves when vampires are around, to protect their people," I said in a rush, trying to explain. When I thought about it, our life was like some strange, supernatural soap opera. This girl was going to think we were insane. "But they're friends now, sort of, Jacob is at least. Ever since he imprinted on our niece, Renesmee,"
"Imprinted? Your niece?"
"Slow down, Jasper, you're going to give her an aneurism." Alice interrupted, giggling. She put her hand on my arm. "Our brother, Edward, fell in love with a human girl named Bella." Alice waited while Kristalene digested that. "They got married and Bella became pregnant." Again she waited. This was going to be a long process. "Bella carried the baby while she was human, but the baby was strong, half vampire, half human. When she was born she nearly killed her mother, but Edward turned her just in time. Bella named the baby Renesmee."
Kristalene's mouth was open in amazement. Goodness, we should write a screenplay of our lives -- we'd make a fortune, I thought.
"Jacob, the werewolf for lack of a better term, had been in love with Bella, but apparently a strange thing happens to some of the werewolves. They will see a girl -- the girl -- and immediately they will be tied to her forever. They will be soul mates. If the girl is already old enough, they will be romantic soul mates and get married eventually. But sometimes -- sometimes the wolves imprint on girls who are not yet old enough. In that case there would be nothing romantic about their attachment to the girl --"
"Yet," I muttered. Alice ignored me.
"They would simply be a very attentive guardian until one day, when she was old enough, their relationship would shift."
Kristalene found her voice with some difficulty. "That sounds very ... strange," she managed.
"Tell me about it," I mumbled again.
"So, after Renesmee was born, Jacob imprinted on her. He took care of her like the best babysitter in the world. And just a few months ago their relationship finally changed and Jacob asked Renesmee to marry him."
"So, Renesmee ages? Does Jacob --" Kristalene bit her lip and her brow furrowed as she tried to understand the complexity of the Cullen life.
"Yes, she aged very quickly. She was actually born only about seven years ago, but she is an adult now. She will not age much past the next year or two. And werewolves apparently stop aging as long as they continue to change from men to wolves. So as long as Jacob continues to shift, he can live with Renesmee forever."
"Incredible," Kristalene breathed, shaking her head. "I never knew there could be so much ... so much I didn't know. Incredible."
"So we have our 'parents,' " I continued, "Carlisle and Esme, there's our brother Edward and now Bella, there are our other brother and sister Emmett and Rosalie, and now there's Jacob and Renesmee." I concluded with a wave of my hands, indicating the completion of the complicated tale.
"Incredible," she repeated. Alice laughed.
"I guess it does sound a little fantastic," she conceded, "but that is our life. And we are very happy with it."
We all sat in silence for an immeasurable amount of time, each lost in our own thoughts. The silence was far from uncomfortable or awkward -- in fact, it was rather intimate. The shared quiet was like a cozy blanket we all shared, wrapping all our emotions and thoughts up under one familiar, familial cover. It was very comfortable. It drew us all closer together.
I was sure Kristalene was turning over the strange story of our lives in her head, and I could see her brow pucker and smooth as she thought of new questions and then either answered them herself or decided not to ask. I smiled fondly at the expressions. Alice's gorgeous eyes watched the bison, then went blank as she checked the future -- for what I wasn't sure, though I hoped she was doing her "duty" and checking on the Volturi and Jacob and Renesmee -- then focused on the animals again. She was leaning against my chest now, absently running her fingers across one of the scars on my right hand as she observed the bison, then she would stop, her hand frozen as she glimpsed the future, then she would resume to movement. I smiled softly at this, too. This was a habit of hers when we had these quiet, thoughtful times. I doubted she was aware, to this day, that she did it.
For my part I was letting my imagination run away with me. I wondered about the child's name, Kristalene. An unusual name, surely, even for Belarus. It wasn't a traditional Russian name like Anya or Sasha. Maybe it was a family name, another heirloom passed down from generation to generation like her rosary. I remembered meeting a "Christel" in Germany once, ages ago, on a "family vacation," as Esme cheerfully termed it. Similar to "Kristalene." And "Christel" was a derivative of the Latin for "Christian." That would make sense, I thought, if her family were so devout.
I began picturing Kristalene's childhood, using her story as an inspiration, but I certainly took artistic license filling in the gaps; truthfully I knew very little about her past. Only the most important things. She loved her sister. I imagined her playing dolls with Anya in the backyard, or in the woods close to the house. I imagined the two of them playing tag with persistent little Sasha, maybe crying out in protest as he pulled their pigtails.
She loved her family. I pictured her sitting at her mother's bedside during some fit of fever or influenza, reading to her or bringing her soup until she was well again, watching after Anya the way a big sister should.
She loved the people in her tiny town. I watched her story, as I had envisioned it, in my mind like an action film. I pictured the burning chapel and small, fragile-looking Kristalene ripping heavy oaken doors from their hinges, flinging them into the woods, and disappearing into the smoke and flames as the villagers looked on in disbelief. She had risked her life in saving the priest and the farmers, though I wasn't sure she knew it. Fire was one of the few things in this world that could harm us. I was certain, though, that had she known, she still would have have risked her own safety to save the men; would have done so without a moment's hesitation. She was selfless. She was brave.
She loved her God. It was obvious in the way she spoke about her religion, her beliefs. A beautiful image of Kristalene, seven or eight years old, clad in a lovely white lace dress reminiscent of a bridal gown danced before my eyes. She was kneeling in front of the priest, her dark, thick hair flowing under the white lace like a second veil, her striking dark eyes somber and full of reverence. Did they have First Communion in Belorussian churches?, I wondered. I vaguely seemed to recall, from my Russian Revolution studies, that most Eastern Catholic countries practiced "Infant Communion." Well, it was a pretty thought, either way. Such a lovely, beautiful, pretty thought.
I wondered what her wedding would have been like if she had not been changed, if she had been left to lead her life human, untouched by this world of blood and death. I clenched my fists into hard balls, but soon relaxed them. Just as I couldn't regret the path my life had taken because it was the path that brought me to Alice, I couldn't bring myself to be sorry for the turns Kristalene's life had taken, because they brought her to me. And we would alleviate some of that darkness, Alice and I. We would help her find a way that wasn't so ... hard.
I began replaying the recent hunting excursion in my head, filling in the parts of Kristalene's hunt I had missed. I imagined her flying after the female wolf, catching up to her quickly. I could see her grabbing the creature by the scruff of the neck, or maybe tackling her, and then holding her, hesitating, not sure quite how to proceed. The image was quite comical. That martyred expression, that perfect little nose wrinkled in distaste. I bit my bottom lip to keep from laughing aloud again and frightening the bison.
I wondered how she would fare against some of the prey I was more used to hunting -- black tail deer or elk ... surely those would be no challenge for her. The mountain lions, perhaps? Wouldn't Edward love to teach her how to hunt mountain lions, just as he had taught Renesmee. Approach them from above, catch them unaware. They won't hurt you, but they're fast and they're vicious. Auntie Alice won't be pleased if they rip your pretty new dress...
Or Emmett teaching her how to hunt bears! Now that had been a lesson Edward had insisted wait for over a year, until he felt certain even a bear could not harm Renesmee. Of course, Kristalene we knew had the same diamond-hard skin we all possessed -- there was no need to worry about her safety on a bear hunt.
Now, Nessie -- no, don't do that! Yeah, one quick swipe! Now jump to the side, kid. Good! That one's pretty big -- are you sure? Okay, well, go for it -- oh! Good one! Regular little huntress we got here, Jazz! Save some bears for your Uncle Emmett, Ness...
I wondered if Emmett and Edward would let Kristalene call them "Uncle." What would she be to Renesmee? A cousin? How well she'd fit in with everyone at home! Esme would just adore her. We'd have to be careful or she'd be another sister instead of a daughter -- Esme had quite the nurturing instinct. When we went away to Dartmouth Kristalene could enroll in the junior high or high school. Surely she could be in close proximity with humans if she lived with them now. She could live in one of the dozens of rooms we were going to have in the Hanover house. Alice could decorate it and fill her closet with clothes that would make her the envy of every teenage child in the state. I could tutor her, if she needed it, and educate her about the ways of the vampire world which she seemed to know so little about. We could go on hunting excursions, and keeping her strong would help keep me strong.
We could say she was our adopted daughter -- Russia was known for it's overfilled orphanages; I was certain there were places there that would adopt a young teenage child out to a young -- very young -- couple. That could be plausible, couldn't it? Of course, Kristalene wasn't really Russian, but as Alice had pointed out, most Americans had never heard of Belarus. I supposed if we had to we could tell the humans Esme and Carlisle had adopted her, just as they adopted us. I didn't much care for this idea -- I wanted her to be ours, officially, publicly. But really, I told myself, what difference would it make? She'd still be ours. Still be our child.
Of course, the thought of Anya flitted into my head every so often. I was pretty sure Kristalene wouldn't want to leave her beloved sister, but Anya was an adult now, at least in her twenties. Surely she was capable of caring for herself, surely she could be happy on her own... Maybe she could move with us. I didn't think I could handle living in the same house as a human, but we could set her up in a nearby place. It would be a better life than that she had here in this poor, tiny, farm town...
My thoughts continued down this road, planning the future Alice and I could have with Kristalene as our adopted child, giving her a home that could last an eternity, as that with Anya could not. Slowly the sky began to lighten and the twinkling stars began to fade. The moon, a lop-sided golden orb with one thin sliver cut from its side, was sinking lower toward the horizon.
"Dawn will be breaking soon," Kristalene murmured, breaking the cozy silence with her reluctant whisper. Alice didn't move. I wondered if she were lost in a vision. With a soft sigh Kristalene rose very slowly to her feet. Alice turned to look at her now, apparently roused from her reverie.
"Is your sister expecting you?" she asked in her melodic soprano voice. It was like a song on the breeze -- the bison didn't even stir.
"Yes, I'm sure she is. I usually tell her when I plan on staying out all night. She doesn't worry much about me anymore," the child indicated her body, as though reminding us of her indestructibility, "but I should still get back. She will be waking soon."
"We should probably get back before daylight," I agreed, rising unwillingly from the mossy earth, pulling little Alice with me. I brushed bracken and dirt from my tattered slacks, trying to ignore Alice's pained expression as she was reminded of the tears anew.
The sky lightened another shade of blue every minute, from midnight to darkest navy to deepest azure. Though none of us wanted to break the spell of this perfect evening, this perfect moment, each of us knew we had a duty to maintain. Kristalene had her Anya, Alice and I had our anonymity to preserve. We were going to do everything we could to keep the Volturi away from this child, to keep her safe. I held my hand out to Alice who, in turn, held her hand out to Kristalene. The child took it with a smile, and, at my lead, we flew hand in hand through the forest back toward Viselkeizedevia.