2. Who and What Are You?
February 2010
London, England
Harry
I was reborn into a cacophony of scents. Much like my brother, Jasper, was reborn into a world of emotions, and my other brother, Edward, was reborn into a world of unwanted voices inside his head, I was reborn into a world where, like it or not, I could tell a person's true being by their scent. A world where the complexity of humanity, which can be seen in both those who still have it and those who think they shed it long ago, swirls around me endlessly.
All vampires rely on their sense of smell. It helps them hunt, and it warns them of danger. All vampires can tell you what blood smells like and what our kind smell like. All vampires have their own unique scent, but only to me can that scent be informative of who they really are, and only I can tell you what love smells like, what caring, devotion, friendliness, and loyalty smell like – all of them sweet and fragrant but each with their own unique tint. I can also tell you what deceit, selfishness, cruelness, and inconsideration smell like – all sour and musty, distinguishing them from the positive emotions, and each with their own individual twist. I could tell you the unique scent of nearly every personality trait the human, and therefore vampire, race possesses.
It had taken over a century, but I had learned how to catalogue it all and how to use my intuition for better or worse. It was how I knew when people shouldn't be trusted, like John or the Volturi. I had learned to predict people's actions based upon it. In over a century, I thought I had seen everything there was to see about the possibilities of the human psyche. I thought nothing could surprise me anymore. However, a dying girl in a London Tube station proved my so very wrong.
"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" The girl's screams filled the air from the room next door and pulled me from my thoughts as I remembered why I came here.
"I think she just broke the world-record for number of times someone can say 'ow' repeatedly," Carlisle said dejectedly to me as I walked into the room. He was watching her thrash around on the bed with a guilty expression on his face. I felt yet another wash of guilt flood over me – after all I had been the one who insisted he changed her. His current scent matched the look on his face. There was the ever-present over-riding compassion, but it was mixed with self-doubt and self-loathing. I had to resist the urge to crinkle my nose at his scent. I tried to think of something to say to stop his obviously guilt-ridden thoughts but came up blank.
So instead I turned to watch the girl, too, concentrating on her intoxicating scent – the nicest I'd ever smelled. She was nicer even then that young girl in Italy, who'd smelled too nice to be allowed to live.
That had always been my problem – the nicer someone was, the more tempting his or her scent was to me. The scent of their personalities mixing with the scent of their blood to create a temptation more irrestible than any narcotic to a user. It had taken all the self-control I had built in the last few years to not kill the girl when I first caught her scent. If I had found her twenty years ago, there would have been no chance she would have survived. But as much as my throat as burned I had spent a decade ignoring it in that cave, I knew what it felt like to burn worse, therefore I had built up a tolerance no other vampire, aside from Carlisle, could wish to have.
For over a century I had struggled with my morals. I didn't want to kill genuinely good people. Much like my brothers, Edward and Jasper, I had no distance from my prey like the majority of my kind. I knew their true being and therefore knew if I was responsible for the death of a good person or a bad person. Unfortunately my instincts drew me to kill the very people I knew deserved to live. My first attempt to consume only the bad people was ruined by the little Italian girl's death. The realisation of what I'd done had caused my own self-imposed exile, which had ended when Carlisle had arrived and convinced me there was another way.
I truly was sorry for the decision I had forced him into, but I hadn't been thinking rationally as I stood at the bottom of those stairs. All I had been thinking of then was that I couldn't let another good person die.
"We did the right thing," I said firmly, trying to sound more confident then I felt. I had to raise my voice to be heard over her screams. "Her name's Amelia Jasmine Hunter," I informed Carlisle, throwing the plastic card in my hand at him. Carlisle looked at me questioningly. "Learner driver's licence," I explained.
"You went through her purse?" Carlisle said sounding slightly outraged. I had to avoid laughing as the scent of pretentiousness became just tangible before disappearing. I made a face to show my own distaste at what I'd done before giving a shrug.
"We needed to know her name."
A blast of music shrilled through the air. I followed the sound and disappeared through the door before returning a second later with her bag, which was the source of the music. I looked at it confused. I noticed Carlisle was trying to suppress a smirk at my baffled expressed before grabbing the bag and pulling the still ringing phone out of it.
"Home," he whispered softly. Her parents were looking for her. I tried not to think about the pain her disappearance would cause them. Without us she would have died anyway, but at least that way they could have had some sense of closure, while now they would never know what happened.
"Should we answer it?" I asked confused as to what we should do next.
"And say what?" Carlisle asked softly, as the music stopped, and he placed the phone down on the bedside table.
"Good point," I admitted. "I don't think 'your daughter's in the middle of being transformed into a vampire' would go down very well." Carlisle shot me a look that made it clear he did not appreciate my comment. On any normal day I would have already figured that out and not said it in the first place. Today, however, I was all out of sorts, not quite as intuitive as usual. The scent of self-loathing and self-doubt became heavier in the air; clearly my badly timed joke had had the opposite effect to my desire to lighten the atmosphere.
Amelia had continued her shouts and screams all through our conversation, and they were joined by the same blast of music as before. Both of us turned to stare at the phone until it stopped ringing.
"We should probably turn this off," I said picking it up again. I turned to Carlisle who gave a nod of consent. I fiddled with the phone for a few seconds before realising I had no idea what to do, so I reluctantly asked, "Erm … how would I do that?" Carlisle smirked at me as I threw the phone at him, and he turned it off with ease.
"Still not quite up-to-date with modern technology?" Carlisle said, trying to hide his amusement. Somewhat bizarrely, this teasing was accompanied by the scent of paternalism. Then again nearly everything Carlisle did when speaking to me or any of his 'children' was accompanied by the scent of paternalism. It had taken me a while in the beginning to get used to that; the fact that I had fought hard against it hadn't helped. I hadn't wanted a father. Or a mother. And definitely not any more siblings. But slowly I had realised that maybe a family was exactly what I needed. Well, this particular family anyway.
"I was out of the loop for ten years," I mumbled defensively. "Have you told her yet?" I asked, trying to get the conversation off me, and I inclined my head toward the screaming, thrashing girl on the bed. I instantly regretted it as self-doubt and self-loathing invaded the room again.
"I can't get a word in edgeways," Carlisle replied, all amusement disappearing from his tone. He then turned his attention toward the transforming girl. "Amelia, I know it hurts, but screaming doesn't help. It'll be over eventually. I need you to listen to me – I need to explain." His voice was coloured with desperation.
"Can't it wait until I'm not in burning pain and might actually be able to listen?" Amelia managed to get the question out between her screams. I had to try not to laugh; the slight change in her scent didn't get past me either.
"She makes a good point," I said. I found myself staring at her in wonderment again. "She's feisty and clever but self-pitying right now, yet it's all wrapped up around kind, loving, caring and friendly. Self-pity's usually such a bad trait, and yet she makes it smell good," I explained, Carlisle understood the delicacy of my talent.
"Four major personalities?"
"Like I said – she's the nicest person I ever met," I replied thoughtfully. Carlisle didn't reply to my statement, and I assumed that to mean he had nothing more to say.
In silence we both watched the burning girl. I found myself thinking about her future. Would she understand? Would she take well to this life or react badly like Rosalie? Would she become my sister? Or something else? I surprised myself with that thought. I had always said that I'd had my one chance already. I wasn't looking for another. Could I really get a second chance? Could she possibly think of me like that? Could I think of her like that? As I breathed in her deliciously nice scent, I found myself considering it. But it was too early for anything like that.
Amelia Jasmine Hunter - who will you become?
*****
Amelia
I could hear their conversation, but it was like I was hearing it from a distance. I was too overridden with the immense pain to concentrate on listening to it. It'll be over soon, it'll be over soon. I hoped the so-called doctor knew what he was talking about. But I continued to scream even though I knew it would do me no good. Even if it did nothing to help the pain it was sort of a release for me, and it was much easier than trying not to scream.
I remembered the words of the other man that I'd overheard. How does he know me like that? I thought He doesn't know me at all, yet he knows exactly what sort of person I am, and he calls me the 'nicest person I ever met'. Who is he?
*****
The fire in my body had stopped, but now my throat was burning. I assumed it was from all the screaming I had done in the last … actually I didn't know how long it had been. I had screamed until I could scream no more, but the pain had been so bad that I couldn't stay quiet long. The doctor and his companion had tried several times to explain something to me, but my screams had always cut them off. Like I'd said, managing to choke the words out between screams, I'd listen when I wasn't in burning pain. It seemed like a good plan to me.
I need a drink. All I could think of was a cool refreshing glass of water, and with that thought, I stood up and opened my eyes.
Whoa! Wow! The drugs, or whatever it was that the doctor had given me, had some really weird side effects. The world seemed brighter and louder. I briefly wondered if I was hallucinating. I'd never gotten high, but this was sort of what I imagined it would feel like. I could hear the doctor's voice; it sounded like he was talking to someone on the phone. I was surprised when I could also hear the replies of the woman he was speaking to, and from the way they spoke to each other, it sounded like it might have been his wife. Strange. He must have it on loudspeaker, I told myself dismissively, and with that my thoughts returned to the idea of a glass of water, and I decided to go and try and find the kitchen.
I didn't know how, but suddenly I found myself in the kitchen. My mind's clearly not working right, I thought. This treatment has some seriously weird side effects. Then again, it was a seriously weird treatment. What was with the burning pain? I shuddered, not wanting to think about that and began concentrating on getting a drink. I pulled a glass out of a cupboard and then turned on the tap. The water smelled cold and inviting, and I took a sip.
I listened to the voices on the phone somewhere above me, as I stood drinking the water.
"Alice would to speak to you," the female voice, that I believed belonged to the doctor's wife, said.
"You might want to go into the kitchen," a different female voice said. I assumed this to be the Alice mentioned. How had she known I was in the kitchen? I mean she had to be talking about me, right? "You're not the only ones full of surprises." This Alice, whoever she was, sounded amused.
"Alice, what's going to happen?" This was the doctor's voice, sounding worried.
"You won't believe me," Alice's voice replied mysteriously. "Now go!" she ordered, and I heard the sound of a phone hanging up.
Suddenly the two men from the night of my fall were in the kitchen. I got my first proper look at them. Their skin was pale white, and they had weird golden eyes. I couldn't help but notice how cautious they appeared to be; they were almost acting like they were scared of me. Without thinking about it, I took another sip from the glass in my hand. They had been staring at me before, but now their eyes seemed to pop out in amazement. I wished they wouldn't – it made me feel like a side attraction at a freak show.
"Erm…hi," I said nervously, I didn't know what to say to them. My voice sounded different, almost musical. I assumed it to be just my hearing playing up – another weird side effect. I took another sip of the water, having found it helped to ease the soreness in my throat.
"Water won't help," the doctor informed me; he still sounded sad. I wondered why that was. After all I had survived, hadn't I?
"Why not? It seems to be working," I replied confused. I had hoped the water would help cool the pain in my throat, and it did. Why would he think it wouldn't help? What kind of quack doctor was he anyway? The doctor scrunched his face up in confusion at my words. I didn't understand it in the slightest. I had a sore throat so I got a drink of water to help – what was so confusing about that?
"What does it taste like?" he asked as if her was intrigued.
"It tastes like …" I was thrown by the question. What I weird thing to ask, surely everyone knew what water tasted like? And how do you explain what water tasted like anyway? There wasn't really a word for it. "Well, like water, you know?" I finished lamely. Both the doctor and the other man looked incredulously at each other and then back at me. I didn't understand this at all. What is so goddamn weird about getting a drink of water?
"It tastes … ok?" the doctor asked unbelievingly. Yes, the water tastes ok. What the hell was going on? I put the glass of water down, fed up with the weird interrogation about it.
"So what exactly was," I couldn't think of a word to describe it, "all that about then? I mean I have to say it bloody hurt, but it's worked, didn't it. I mean, like," I paused, remembering I had no idea how long it had been. "How long ago was it you found me?"
"Two days," the doctor answered. He and his companion were still staring at me in disbelief. What was with that?
"Ok, well anyway, like erm, two days ago I was, like, well, dying and now, well, I feel great. I mean, it's like I never, well you know, got pushed down a flight of stairs. I mean, erm, I don't know what the hell you gave me, but it worked a bloody miracle. You should, like, pimp it out to the NHS or something, or like hospitals worldwide. I mean you'd make an absolute bloody fortune. I mean it, like, really fucking hurt, but it fixed in two days what would have taken months or, well, even years to fix, or wouldn't even have been fixable at all, meaning I would have been, you know, stuck in a wheelchair or something. That's if I didn't die to begin with, which I probably would have if you didn't find me. I should probably like, thank you for that, you know. So, like, thanks for, you know, not leaving me to die at the bottom of a flight of stairs. Who are you anyway? " I realised I was rambling due to my nerves and my confusion, and that I was making an idiot of myself, so I shut up.
"You're welcome," the doctor said sounding confused. I didn't blame him; even I couldn't make sense of what I'd just said. "I'm Dr. Carlisle Cullen, and this is my son, Harry." I looked at the man standing next to him. He didn't look less than four or five years younger than him. How could he possibly be his son? However I completely forgot my confusion at their family situation as I suddenly remembered a much more pressing matter.
"Do my parents know what happened to me?" I asked. My mind suddenly filled with thoughts of them, though bizarrely, those thoughts were blurry, like seeing them through a fog. Weird, weird, side effects. I just knew they would be concerned for me, and I needed to speak to them right away, to let them know I was OK, and they didn't have to worry; they didn't need to be upset or hurt.
"Amelia, your parents can't know what happened," the doctor, Carlisle, told me sadly. "You can never see them again. I'm sorry." A sudden rush of anger filled me. Who was he to say I couldn't see them again? Hadn't I wanted to survive to stop them from missing me – to protect them from the emotional pain that would cause them? So what was the point of surviving if it still caused them pain? I was going to see them again.
"Where's my phone?" I snapped. I noticed that both men seemed to back away from me like I could hurt them. As if. Even in a temper, there was no chance that I - quite possibly the weakest girl alive - could possibly do anything to hurt two grown men. My distracted thoughts quickly returned to my original plan. I would phone my parents, and as soon as they knew I was alive, they'd come get me, no matter what the so-called doctor said. Any gratitude I had felt for him had disappeared when he had told me, no, ordered me, to never see my parents again.
"Amelia, you need to let me explain what's happened," the doctor said desperately. I supposed I could let him do that much – I was curious to know what had happened anyway. I nodded my consent. The doctor relaxed slightly but still seemed to be wary of me.
"When I saved you, I did something that changed what you are. You have to understand that it was the only thing I could do to stop you from dying." He sounded like he was trying to placate me, like he thought I would be angry with him for saving my life. What could he possibly have done that would have been so bad I would be angry with him for not leaving me to die?
"You're not … human anymore. Neither am Harry nor I are. I've made you like us." He paused and stared at me as if to gauge my reaction. I was staring at him in shock, wondering where the hell this was going. "We're … vampires. I had to bite you to save your life. The venom healed you, but it also made you one of us." He stopped, waiting for my reaction. Slowly I processed what he was saying. I gave a giant laugh and suddenly I couldn't stop laughing.
Vampire. He'd just told me I was a vampire. It was the funniest thing I'd ever heard. So ridiculous I just couldn't stop laughing at the idea. And he'd said it so seriously, like he honestly believed it. Someone should give that doctor an Oscar or something.
"Ok, honestly, what really happened?" I managed to finally stop laughing to ask the all-important question. If he doesn't give me a proper answer this time, I'm so out of here, my thoughts turned suddenly angry. Both the doctor and his son looked at each other worried.
"Amelia," the doctor said my name gently, "I'm telling the truth. You're a vampire." Visions of fangs, blood sucking, stakes, silver, holy water and burning in the sunlight filled my mind. Vampire, I snorted to myself. This is absolutely fucking ridiculous.
"Ok, joke's not funny anymore. Tell me what's going on, or I'm out of here." After neither of them replied, I grew even more angry.
"Fine, fuck you both, I'm going home!" I shouted.
"Don't be such a goddamn idiot! If you go home you'll kill your entire family!" the doctor's son, Harry, shouted at me. It was the first time he'd spoken since he'd entered the kitchen.
"Harry!" the doctor scolded him.
"Well, what are we supposed to do? Just let her go home to kill all her loved ones like they did with Sophia?" he shouted angrily, but there was also noticeable pain in his voice. I was growing quickly annoyed at his assumptions. I would never kill anyone!
"Oh, I'll kill them, will I? Why? Because I'm a vampire?" I asked with heavy sarcasm.
"Yes!" he shouted back at me. "How do you not get that? I can tell you love your parents. I can tell you want to protect them. Trust me. Going home is not the way to do that!" He sounded like he was trying to help, like he honestly wanted to stop me from killing people. For a second I considered his words before remembering they were completely stupid. Maybe he should get the Oscar for best supporting actor.
"Because I'm a vampire who's going to murder them all?" I asked sarcastically. I just couldn't take any of it seriously – it was just such a ridiculous notion.
"Yes," he replied staunchly.
"He's, we're telling you the truth, Amelia," the doctor said gently. Okay, this joke, or prank, or whatever it was, had gone on long enough. Who saves someone's life and then uses the whole thing to pull some sort of sick stunt? Fucking freaks.
"Okay," I began calmly, "I don't want to be rude because you did save my life, even if you won't tell me how. But there is no polite way to say this, so screw it, I'll just have to be rude. Spare me the goddamn vampire bullshit, ok?Either tell me what the fuck is going on, or I'm so out of here."
"Amelia, put your hand on your chest," the doctor ordered. I raised an eyebrow at him sceptically. "Just humor me," he asked.
"Give me one good reason why I should?" I asked angrily, debating whether I should just leave right now.
"Because I didn't leave you to die alone at the bottom of a flight of stairs," the doctor replied patiently. Humph, he had me there. Fine, I'd humour him. I placed my hand on my chest. "Harry, go get a mirror," the doctor ordered, and his son disappeared out the door quicker then I'd ever seen anyone else move. "What do you feel?" the doctor asked me.
"Nothing," I replied irritated. What exactly was he doing?
"And what should you feel there?" he asked patiently, but he made it sound like he was explaining something to an idiot. I shrugged, not getting this bizarre new line of questioning. What was he trying to do? Prove to me I was a vampire? Even in my head it sounded ridiculous.
"Your heartbeat, Amelia, do you feel your heartbeat?" Suddenly I realised my heart wasn't beating. It hadn't beat since I had been in immense pain. What the fuck?
"What's going on? Why don't I have a heartbeat? What did you do to me?" Panic and delirium crept into my voice. What was happening? I couldn't process any of it.
"Amelia, I already told you, you're -"
"DON'T TELL ME I'M A FUCKING VAMPIRE!" I screamed at him, even as I said it, I realised if I didn't have a heartbeat, I could very well be a vampire?
Harry returned carrying a mirror. He looked at the doctor who nodded at him, and then he passed it to me. Curiously I looked into it, dreading what I might see there. My skin was pale white, the same shade as the doctor's and his son's, and I was much more beautiful then I'd ever been. My brown curly hair looked sleek and glossy rather than it's usual frizzy mess, but my eyes ruined the effect. They weren't the odd but acceptable gold of the two men. My eyes were a terrifying, monstrous red. I jumped backward in shock, and I heard two smashing sounds. I realised I had not only dropped the mirror but had also destroyed the full-length cupboard behind me. Instead of it stopping me as I'd expect, I had smashed straight through it, as if it were paper. I stepped forward again, out of the Amelia-shaped hole in the cupboard.
I believed them then. If it was possible I didn't have a heartbeat. If it was possible for my eyes to be that monstrous red colour. If it was possible I could smash cupboards without any problem. Then it was possible for me to be a vampire. Hell, it was the only explanation I had.
"I'm a vampire," I whispered dejectedly.
"I'm sorry, Amelia," the doctor said gently. He then explained to me about vampires I gathered that about from needing blood to survive, that most of the myths were rubbish. He told me how he and his were 'vegetarian' vampires and lived off the blood of animals and not humans. My heart soared at the news. I didn't have to be a killer.
"You're welcome to join our family if you want, or you're free to go your own way if you'd prefer," the doctor finished his explanation. Go my own way? And do what exactly? Kill people? I had to repress a shudder.
"I'll stay," I told them decisively. I'll take the option that doesn't involve killing people, thank you very much. Suddenly I remembered something.
"Wait a minute. You said that my throat burns for blood, and all I'll ever be able to drink is blood, right?" I asked cautiously. Both the doctor and his son nodded. "But I drank the water earlier and … it made my throat feel better. Actually it doesn't burn much at all." Great, they were both staring at me like I belonged behind bars in a zoo again.
"That's very odd," the doctor admitted, sounding confused. A shiver of annoyance went through me.
"Sure, you tell me you're a 'vegetarian' doctor vampire, and I'm the odd one. Pots and kettles, Dr. Cullen, pots and kettles." I said, half-annoyed but half-joking. Harry gave a snort of laughter at that, and even the doctor gave a smile.
"Good point, Amelia. And you can call me Carlisle," he said. "Actually, if you don't mind, could you try and drink some again?" he asked, sounding curious. Picking up the glass and taking it to the sink took me less than a second. Now I knew what was going on, I marvelled at my vampire speed. Suddenly the time it took for the glass to fill seemed slow. Trying not to feel like a freak show attraction under their stares, I drank, the glass of water and felt the still present burn in my throat cool slightly.
"Amazing," the doctor, Carlisle, said in awe. I heard his son give a low chuckle. "I've never seen anything like it. I wonder if you can drink anything else but water?"
I was also somewhat curious. "Let's find out," I said chirpily. I was all for anything that didn't involve drinking blood. I went to open the refrigerator, but in my eagerness I ripped off the door. "Oops, sorry," I said shame-faced.
"It's ok. It'll take some time to get used to the extra strength. And we don't have anything in there anyway." He was right; I was looking inside an empty fridge. Cautiously I placed the door back into place.
"Just go," I heard Harry say to Carlisle. "I can tell you're dying for more information." Harry rolled his eyes Carlisle turned to address me.
"I'm going to buy some more human drinks so we can experiment. Stay here, and Harry will watch you." As much as I didn't appreciate being spoken to like a child, I understood that in many ways that was what I was now. A newborn, they'd called me. Carlisle disappeared out the front door, leaving Harry and me to stand in uncomfortable silence.
"I'm sorry I called you a goddamn idiot," he said sincerely.
"It's okay. I'm sorry I acted like a goddamn idiot," I replied. He gave a slight smile. "It's just seemed so ridiculous, you know?" He nodded.
"I didn't mean to shout at you – it was just the idea of you returning home to your family." He shuddered.
"Would I really have killed them all?" I asked, horrified by the very thought. They had explained that human blood would be irresistible to me in the beginning. "Maybe I would have been okay with the whole 'freak thing' going on. You know, the whole 'only vampire able to drink something other than blood thing'. Maybe I'll react differently." I saw a silver lining in the cloud that was the whole 'oh by the way you're a vampire' situation. Maybe one day I could see my family again. It would hurt them for a while, but one day I could go home and help heal the pain.
"You're willing to risk your family's lives on that possibility?" he spat out at me, his voice suddenly disgusted
"No," I whispered sadly, realising the truth behind his question. Maybe I could see my family again without killing them. But maybe I still couldn't.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have shouted at you," he said. He truly did sound sorry again. What was going on with him? "You're not Sophia." He said this more to himself than me. I recalled him mentioning her earlier as well.
"Who's Sophia?" I asked, my sense of curiosity winning out over my sense of decorum.
"Just someone I used to know," he replied softly. It was clear it was something he didn't wish to discuss. I wished I'd kept my mouth shut.
Just then I heard the door close as Carlisle returned home. He carried several shopping bags.
"You know you can buy clothes at supermarkets now?" he asked sounding surprised.
"You've been able to for years." I found his surprise at this insignificant detail slightly amusing.
"Well, I haven't been inside a supermarket for decades. It's usually Esme who does our shopping."
"Shopping? Why would vampires need to shop?" I questioned curiously.
"To keep up appearances. It would appear very odd if a household of nine never bought any food," he explained. I guessed that made sense, seemed like a lot of hassle though. What a weird way for vampires to live.
"Anyway, I thought you might want something to wear other than …" His words trailed off. I looked down and realised I was still wearing my outfit from Katie's 18th party. The purple dress and leggings were shredded in places. They were also covered in dried blood. I fingered one of the patches of dry blood, as I did so I was hit by the most delicious smell ever.
"Amelia…" I heard Carlisle's voice say gently, pulling me out of my trance.
"What was that?" I asked. "Oh, wait, blood," I answered my own question. "Well, at least I didn't try to drink it."
"It's two days old and dried up, it would be impossible to drink. Only a newborn could find the smell even slightly appealing," Carlisle informed me. I realised the truthfulness of his words, the blood had appealed to me. The smell of it had anyway. Despite it being dried up, it had still filled me with a desire to drink blood. My own blood for that matter. The thought was repulsive to me.
"I should go get changed," I said, trying to hide my growing annoyance and repulsion. Carlisle passed me the bag containing clothes.
"There's a bathroom upstairs if you'd like a shower as well," he told me. Realising I was still covered in dried blood, I recognised how good an idea that was. I flew up the stairs and into the bathroom, again marvelling at my newfound speed.
I placed the bag of clothes in a corner and turned the shower on, breaking the nozzle in the process. I began trying to get undressed, but as I grabbed my dress to pull it over my head I felt it rip under my hands and an unbidden quiet growl came out of my mouth. Of course, I was now much stronger than I used to be and had to be much more careful. I didn't even bother trying to remove the leggings and shoes properly; I just ripped the leggings off and broke the straps of my heels. It wasn't like I ever planned to wear them again; it would be a bit morbid wearing the clothes I died in. Now there's a phrase you don't say everyday, then again neither is 'I'm a vampire'.
Finally fully undressed, I stood under the caressing shower of warm water and let my newly expanded mind drift, trying to process everything that had happened to me.
I am apparently a blood-sucking vampire who can drink water as well but still finds the smell of blood appealing, even my own two-day-old dried up blood. I am a vampire. I am a vampire. I am a vampire.
What the hell is Harry's problem? I mean what's with the whole flying off the wall one second to being oddly polite and remorseful the next. That kid has issues. And so do I for that matter. I am a blood-sucking vampire. One who can apparently also drink water. What is going on with me? What is going on with him for that matter either?
*****
Harry
I watched with amusement as Carlisle lined up his purchases: milk, orange and apple juice, Coca-Cola, lemonade, tea bags, and coffee granules. Curious intellectual scholarly Carlisle. Always seeking more knowledge, I was relieved to note that his scent had changed back to something more like his usual self.
"I've never seen or heard of anything like this," he told me. I hadn't either, I was nearly as curious as he was. But it wasn't just her 'freak thing', as she'd called it, which had caught my attention. It was her herself.
Even as she had shouted and swore at us, she hadn't meant it nastily, I could tell. She had been shy at first, but it had switched to confident; she was very confident that we were a pair of idiots. She had been temperamental, yes, but it wasn't the bad sort of temperamental - it disappeared too quickly. Self-confidence had switched to self-doubt the moment she'd realised she had no heartbeat. She had trusted us, then not trusted us, and then trusted us immensely again. The swapping between trust and mistrust was something I had experienced before, but she surprised me with the overwhelming strength of her trust when she did trust us.
In the short amount of time we'd been in that kitchen she'd been all that, as well as enthusiastic, curious, stubborn, decisive, protective, and naïve. While her four major personality traits had always stayed the same, as was normal (except people usually only have three), her minor ones had changed at a rate so fast it was unbelievable to me. Most people had only a few minor personality traits that came out in any abundance, and they were only provoked at certain times. Most of the time it was the difference in the strength of each trait in their main scent that helped me deduce what was going on. Amelia's minor personalities swirled around her and changed so quickly I couldn't keep up with her. I considered myself intuitive, and I can usually tell what someone is thinking or feeling by a swap in his or her personality traits, but she was unpredictable.
I couldn't blame her for how she had reacted. All she had wanted was to know what had happened to her and then be able to go home to her parents. It was a perfectly understandable wish. It wasn't her fault the news we had to give her wasn't good. But, even among the never-ending surprises she seemed to cause me, I had been surprised when she had become protective while discussing her return to her family. What did she want to protect them from? The only way to protect them was to stay away. The only thing they needed protecting from was her.
I had made a fool of myself, I knew. I shouldn't have shouted at her like that. But when she had mentioned returning home, anger had boiled out of me as I remembered what had happened last time a vampire had attempted that plan.
Sophia.
I had returned to Britain to speak to her for the first time in a century, but I had found I didn't have the courage to do so. I didn't want to revisit my past; not when I had finally found a brighter future. But even though I hadn't gone and spoken with her, my past had been heavy on my mind for the last few days. How could it not have been, when I had finally returned to the country of my birth? So when Amelia had mentioned going home, a century-and-a-half-old anger had spilled out of me. I should never have shouted at her. What happened then had nothing to do with her. She was just a confused child who wanted to see her parents again. But then again, that was exactly what Sophia had been as well, and a hundred and fifty years later I was still mad at her.
Amelia returned downstairs dressed in the jeans and T-shirt Carlisle had bought at the supermarket. Her scent was just as nice smelling, as kind, as loving, as caring, as friendly, as always. She was also enthusiastic, curious, and optimistic at this present moment, but that could swap very quickly as I'd already learned.
"You know, this is like the third outfit I tried on. All the others got ripped," she announced to Carlisle, surprisingly chirpy. I didn't miss that she seemed to purposefully not address it to me.
"Your new strength takes some getting used to – that's the reason I bought several different items so it doesn't matter if you rip them"
"Doesn't matter anyway, since Alice will probably burn that outfit or something once we get home," I said jokingly. She glared at me.
"I like it," she said with a hard edge to her voice. Defensiveness began creeping into her scent. Was there anything this girl wasn't? And would I ever be able to say the right thing to her – her unpredictability was throwing my usually intuitive self into the deep end, and I had no idea how to react around her.
"While I'm glad you appreciate my fashion choices, Harry's right. It came from a supermarket so Alice, while she probably won't burn it, will put it straight in the Goodwill pile. She's probably bought you an entire wardrobe of designer clothes by now," Carlisle said jokingly to defuse the situation, and then he looked at me clearly expecting some sort of explanation concerning her attitude. I shrugged, not wanting to explain that I'd shouted at her yet again.
"Who's Alice?" she asked Carlisle but glared at me. The look clearly said sarcastically, 'Am I allowed to ask that?'
"Alice is one of my daughters. She has what we call a talent - she can see the future," Carlisle explained. "And she loves to shop," he added, and Amelia nodded.
"She can see the future? That explains how she knew I was in the kitchen and how she knew you'd be surprised because I was drinking the water." Both Carlisle and I looked at her in confusion. "Oh sorry, I could hear you on the phone after I woke up," she explained. Self-doubt crept around her again – she was clearly debating whether she'd done something wrong.
"That's the downside of extra-sensitive hearing. Keeping things private is pretty much impossible," I told her, hoping to get across that it was fine. I had to resist the temptation to smile when the smell of self-doubt disappeared; I'd finally guessed something right about this mesmerising girl.
"You have to tell me all about your family… and their talents," Amelia said, curiosity flaring around her again.
"Of course. But if we could try to figure this out first," Carlisle said as he pointed to the array of human drinks lined up in front of us. Amelia smiled and picked up the glass she had used earlier. There was a swirl of self-doubt from her again; she must have been worried about it not working. She poured herself a glass of each of the first five drinks while we watched in amusement and astonishment as she drank each. As she drank each drink, the self-doubt was quickly replaced with more and more self-confidence.
"Shall I put the kettle on?" she said, pointing to the tea bags. Carlisle began quickly searching through the cupboards until he found what he was looking for. Why we even had a kettle here was beyond me. Amelia pulled a cup out of the cupboard and placed a teabag in it while the kettle boiled. "Do you have any sugar?" she asked us. We both looked at her in amazement before she said, "I take it that's a stupid question to ask a pair of vampires?" We both nodded silently, and I almost smiled as naivety briefly entered the room. She picked up the now boiling kettle and began pouring it into the cup; she then took the teabag out, poured some milk in, and stirred. She brought it to her mouth, but then pulled it away and placed it on the counter
"Don't you like?" Carlisle asked curiously, clearly wondering if we'd found her limit.
"No, I just don't want to burn my mouth. I'm waiting for it to cool down. So tell me more about your family," she said curiously. "So far, there's you two and a shopaholic psychic called Alice. Oh, and someone called Esme who does all your pretend shopping," she recalled. Carlisle smiled indulgently at her.
"There's my wife Esme and I, our children: Harry, Edward and Bella, Rosalie and Emmett, Alice and Jasper, our granddaughter, Renesmee and a … friend of Bella and Renesmee's named Jacob." I smiled at his choice of words to explain Jacob's position in the family; it had taken me a while to get used to his presence in their household when I first joined.
"Wow, large family," Amelia said as she picked up her cup of tea and began drinking. She smiled at our astonished expressions. "Can't beat a good cup of tea," she informed us jokingly. "So are any of the other members of your family 'talented' like Alice?" she asked curiously.
"Yes. Edward can read minds." I sensed a sudden shot of secretiveness and defensiveness at those words; she didn't like the idea of someone reading her mind. I couldn't blame her for it since I had felt exactly the same way at first. But keeping secrets in the Cullen family was impossible. Carlisle continued without noticing her reaction. He wasn't, of course, getting distracted by weird scent changes caused by parts of her ever-changing personality coming to the forefront. "Bella is a shield. She can shield herself and others from mental talents. Jasper can feel and manipulate emotions. Renesmee can both break down other's shields and project her thoughts to others. And Harry can …" He looked at me, clearly expecting me to explain my talent.
"I can sense people's personality. What their main personality traits are; the ones that are always present, in everything you do, and also the more minor ones that come to the forefront as you're placed in different situations." It was the simplest explanation I had. Amelia was staring at me, the curiosity coming from her was increasing dramatically, but there was also self-doubt. I knew what she wanted to know.
"What's my personality like?" she asked me, just like I knew she would. I couldn't help but feel smug as I got confirmation that I had actually predicted something about her right, and for the second time in ten minutes as well.
"You're the nicest person I've ever met," I told her truthfully. There was no need to add 'and the most confusing and the most mesmerizing and the most unpredictable and the most bizarre'.
"You've said that before," she said and then paused. "When I was … dying." She winced at her words. "And burning."
"That's why I asked Carlisle to save you, because you were too good a person to die," I said softly.
"I know, I remember now," she said sadly. She was suddenly self-doubting again, however somehow she still made it seem good as it was wrapped up with caring. I wanted to ask her what was wrong, but she turned from me, pointing to the last thing in Carlisle's human drinks line.
"I don't like coffee," she said, putting the cup down. She was looking at me funny. Carlisle was watching us both intently, clearly trying to figure out the sudden change in mood.
"Would you like to hunt?" he asked Amelia gently.
"Hunt? Hunt what?" Amelia asked. Her naivety again came to the forefront.
"Animals." She continued to look at him like he was mad. "For their blood," he continued.
"Oh right, vampire, I forgot," she mumbled distractedly. "No thanks." She didn't sound impressed by the idea.
"Okay, I'm going to phone the airport then, we'll take the plane out of here tomorrow."
"Can I get on a plane?" she asked confused.
"We have a private plane," Carlisle explained.
"Vampires have private planes?" she asked unbelievingly.
"These vampires do!" I said jokingly. I was rewarded with a happy smile. It felt good making her smile.
First off, yet another big thank you to Project Team Beta, who, again, helped make this chapter so much better than it was originally.
So what are your thoughts on Harry's 'talent' and Amelia's 'freak thing'? Reviews are always greatly appreciated.