Chapter Three: Fearless
I was early for Biology having left the cafeteria before the others on the pretense that I forgot a book in my locker. Mike seemed to view any of our time alone together as some sort of pre-dating, somehow the short walk to Biology had turned into him trying to carry my bag or hold my hand, and so I'd been doing my best to keep that interaction to a minimum. Our teacher was preparing some sort of experiment and it was only me and a few over-achievers in the class room. This left my mind to wander.
My thoughts, with no surprise drifted to Edward Cullen. It's a sick sort of curiosity, I decided. It's just— in all my years (and that's saying something) I've never known a vampire who could control that dark thirst.
Even when they try, even if they want to, they can kill you even when they profess to love you.
I felt suddenly cold as a chill ripped up my spine, bringing with it the cold memories of an icy hand sliding up my back, a familiar yet terrifying voice whispering in my ear.
Sorry, I can't control myself
"Sorry," a voice said.
I bolted upright shaking away shivers of deja vous
I whipped my head around and exhaled a breath, "What— I didn't see you come in," I stuttered.
Edward Cullen chocked his head like he was some adorable puppy, yeah, one that would like to suck my blood.
"About the other day, if I offended you. I apologize."
Based on his speech I guessed he was at least over a hundred.
"I wasn't offended," I told him honestly. I had actually been thankful, underneath the numb surprise that I was still alive.
He didn't believe me, the way he focused on me contained some sort of frustration for him. His amber eyes stared at me probing, his face turning slightly as if trying to capture something difficult to hear
"Still, I'm sorry about that," he said, rubbing his forehead with his hands. "It's just we shouldn't be friends."
I wonder how he gets away with this attitude.
"Who said I want to be your friend," I said. And it's the truth, I want nothing to do with him or his clan. I'm here for one reason, and once I'm eighteen I'm gone.
His eyes are very light amber, I notice now that we're so close. Really, almost honey colored and surprisingly realistic. I look for traces of contacts, as some vampires make use of modern inventions to blend in more. (Wolves in sheep clothing.) But they look so seamless, I'd almost believe they were real.
"What?" he asked and I realized I've been staring.
"Nothing," I pulled away quickly and stare back at the front. Our bodies had gotten closer too, I hadn't even realized it. We rested our hands on the tabletop at the same time and pulled away quickly before our skin could touch.
And then I was staring at his eyes again. I couldn't look away and a nervous terror made me wonder if he had some ability to draw my focus. He wasn't even feigning breathing and his light eyes darkened some. It's so real, I'd swear his eyes are gold...although quickly shifting to black.
"This is very bad," he said aloud.
"Worse," I whisper.
We both looked away guiltily as people came in, interrupting this odd magnetic pull. I frantically tried to think of a way to get out of class. And running was topping the list. I took a deep breath, something my desk mate couldn't afford. I could get through this. Almost compulsively I rubbed the burn marks on my wrist. They had faded to thin white lines and no pain. I missed the reassurance, and thought for a moment of snagging Mr. Winter's keys again although the gesture would only be masochistic and hardly useful.
Somehow we both managed to sit through the movie and lecture, being careful not to even glance in the other's direction, and when class was over, Edward once again left quicker than was normal.
A firm voice in my head said that I was dead. That tonight he'd sneak into my room and tomorrow I'd be found dead from some strange accident. I'd pushed it too far. I overstepped my luck. There was no way this odd self control could last. I'd been a fool for thinking that it could.
Vampires can't stop for a singer, they simply can't control themselves.
A small part of me felt oddly sad at that notion. And it wasn't my lost chance or my life I was mourning, a part of me had been hoping I was wrong. It was like Marius always said, I wanted to believe in the possibility of change. That anything could be good.
No matter how often I've been proven wrong.
The Winters's home had improved some over the last week. It used to smell of mold and sickness, now it smelled like a deodorizer whose scent was marketed as 'Ocean Spray'. I've been to the ocean and this heavy scent is nothing like it. But surprisingly Mrs. Winters seemed to be fond of it, and I suppose she's the one dying. If she wants the living room to reek of phony ocean, well it's up to her.
It's less messy too. The dishes washed, the laundry cleaned, the plants watered. It looks like a home, if an impersonal one. It's not as if we're going to hang pictures on the wall of our time together, I think the faded wedding picture above the mantel is the only photograph in the entire house. But I get the feeling that the Winters like me. Maybe I'm meeting their expectations better than they had any right to expect. Maybe it's because I'm not a little girl, and we can all live together like three impersonal strangers who occasionally run into each other on the way to the bathroom.
Their house is a good distance out of town and I'm the last person on the bus, getting home an hour after school lets out. It'd actually be quicker if I walked, but I don't mind the circling drive through Forks as we stop at all the houses along the way, and I use the time to do my homework. I pity my teachers, they must think I have terrible penmanship. But penmanship is a lost art in this generation, I'm likely no less legible than my peers.
I settled my backpack by the door and glanced at Mrs. Winters carefully to make certain she's still alive. She grows tired around noon and sleeps most of the day in a faded recliner. She was still breathing at any rate, so I crossed into the kitchen, peeking through the cupboards to try and decide what to make for dinner.
It would be my last meal, if my expectations were correct. I'd die tonight. So I might as well make it something I'd enjoy.
When Mr. Winters entered around six, I had been expecting him and some pasta was draining in the sink. He nodded at me, likely a greeting. But for all his gruff, I noticed that he was gentle with his wife, and he pulled out a tray to set her food on. We both knew she wouldn't eat it, but she likes to play with her fork and sample it. I thought she was checking to see if I was cooking well enough for her husband, but she hasn't found fault yet.
Mr. Winters flicked on the television to a news channel, I knew it would be the only noise during dinner. We both glanced periodically at Mrs. Winters as we ate. She seemed to be having more trouble than usual, her face was locked in a pinched expression and she didn't even bother to pick up her silverware.
I grew more worried when I noticed that one side of her chest didn't seem to be moving as much as the other, and her breathing had slowed.
"Mrs. Winters," I said softly, interrupting the relative silence. Mr. Winters looked at me in shock, almost as if I've jumped up and started yelling. "Are you alright," I questioned, leaving my dinner and moving closer to her.
She opened her mouth but no noise came out. I didn't need her words, her face was filled with fear and her breathing had grown shallower. Her face was losing color.
"She needs to go to the hospital," I told Mr. Winters.
Without a word he gathered his coat and lifted his keys from the hook. It took the two of us to get Mrs. Winters out of the chair, and we practically carried her outside and to the truck. A light drizzle was dripping down on us, and Mrs. Winters clutched my arm tightly as her husband opened the truck's door for her.
I helped her in and began to pull away, but her arm held on like a vice. I looked at her face and without needing to ask I slipped into the cab and sat beside her. Mr. Winter started the engine and got the truck in gear, in less than a minute we were bumping quickly down the slick pavement. I couldn't see the speedometer to know if Mr. Winters was speeding, but I hoped he was. I should have been shocked, riding on energy of such an intense shift. Only moments ago Mr. Winters and I were eating our dinner and watching the news. Now we're rushing down a wet road, hoping to make it the hospital before she stopped breathing.
I should have been surprised at this turn, but I wasn't. Life can swiftly fall apart, this I've learned. I had expected to die tonight, but it might not be my life that was cut short.
Mrs. Winters was still holding my hand, almost as if she were the little girl and I the mother. But I didn't mind and held her palm securely.
He must have been speeding because we made it to the hospital in record time, the bright lights that illuminated the outside of the building seemed to send the evening into sharper focus. The weak drizzle has turned into a solid drenching and we all felt half drowned by the time we floundered into the Emergency Room.
"She can't breathe," I said quickly to a nurse in pink scrubs.
And suddenly everything was a flurry of motion and I found myself amazed as nurses and orderlies rushed Mrs. Winters onto a bed and attached devices to her. I didn't know what half of them were, something about modern medicine always hits me as bizarre and incomprehensible.
It's hard to imagine that anyone dies these days considering all the vaccines, syrups and pills that are commonplace. I remember going into a drugstore once and seeing a medicine labeled as some sort of cure-all for the Flu. And tasting of cherries, of all things. I stared at if feeling like I was seeing the fountain of youth, so mythical and elusive, and here it was in common drugstore. The other people didn't seem to think much of it, but then they probably hadn't watched the bodies piling up as the illness ripped through the town taking down people in droves.
"Can you tell me what happened," a nice voice interrupted my brief spell of memories.
"I think..." I trailed off uncomfortably as I met the amber eyes of a handsome young doctor.
Vampire.
I physically flinched back before I managed to compose myself. Why the hell is a vampire at a hospital?
"Are you alright?" the vampire asked, sounding actually concerned as I rubbed my wrist compulsively and tried to breathe normally.
"Er, you're a doctor?" I couldn't help but ask. It seemed insane. How could a vampire work near blood, people? Surely, Forks must have been losing people by the dozens every week if they are housing such a large population of killers. How are they staying here?
He smiled warmly, "Yes, I'm Dr. Cullen."
"Cullen," I said the word hesitantly. Not the Cullen I'd been expecting to see tonight.
My glaze flickered behind this 'doctor' as the nurses made some commotion and I noticed that Mrs. Winters was still struggling to breath. My eyes moved to find Mr. Winters but he was standing corpse-like, not responding to the questions being thrown at him. He was staring at his wife and I realized how much he loved her. I pitied him.
"She just started having trouble breathing tonight," I said, I couldn't look at the vampire as the words left my lips. I know I'm asking him for his help, to save her, and if felt wrong to entrust him with anything, least of all something as important as human life.
"One side of her chest wasn't breathing right, She has lung cancer. I don't really know what kind, It's terminal...but I just..." I trailed of, feeling stupid for not knowing more. I never thought it would matter. I'd always known she was going to die.
I didn't even know her first name.
"It will be alright," the vampire comforted me. "Based on what I've seen I think she has a pleural effusion, that means that there is liquid in the lungs. It's fairly common with lung cancer patients. We can drain the liquid for now," he gave me a gentle smile before he turned back and threw himself into the huddle of people that were examining Mrs. Winters.
I moved to stand next to Mr. Winters. He still looked lost, like he couldn't decide how he had gotten here.
"It's going to be okay," I told him. "The doctor will help her."
I said it, and part of me even believed it. How sick is that? But the world was beginning to feel like it had turned upside down. Edward Cullen and his surprising restraint, Dr. Cullen saving human lives, and even a family of dangerous monsters living in a town of unsuspecting people and yet no one seemed to be dying, no suspicious rumors.
I really wanted some answers, because everything I'd seen here was throwing my well-established notions into turmoil. Vampires drink blood, they kill and maim with no restraint, they destroy even the things they consider precious.
But wasn't I alive, all my predictions and yet I was still breathing.
Mr. Winters slumped dangerously and I helped him to a seat along the wall. He sat down but he was shaking like a child, and once again I felt so much older than them. I took his hand comfortingly, and rubbed small circles with my thumb to calm him. It's an old pressure point, and he settled almost immediately.
If only everything was so easy to sooth.
The next day at school was hard to take. I was exhausted from being at the hospital most of the night and I'd spent the remainder or my time alone at the Winters home wondering if a vampire was going to come and kill me.
He never did.
I wondered how obvious my exhaustion was.
"You look terrible!" Mike said for a greeting.
That bad, I thought to myself.
Mike must have sensed my displeasure because he quickly stuttered, "I mean, you look good, I mean, well it just looks like— not that you don't always look good—"
I hastily waved away his attempts at placating my nonexistent vanity. "Just tired, I was up all night."
"Yeah, know how that is. One time I was stuck watching this Dr. Who marathon all night, just couldn't stop."
I stared at him blankly, do people my age really watch television that much? Still I smiled and nodded. "Glad you understand," I muttered.
-AAA-
I was really not prepared for Cullen when I got to Biology. Once again I've been labeled the school's bad girl after my constant falling asleep in class had the school abuzz about what I must have been up to the previous night. The stories ranged from the tame to the extreme (Apparently I'm a frequent visitor to some biker bar and was hauled away by the cops after a fight there last night, spent the whole evening in lock up.) I didn't suppose it really mattered what the truth was, so I let the rumors drift around me. People always believe what they want anyway.
I was early for Biology, it was becoming a trend. The classroom was much quieter than the cafeteria and I'd been hoping that I could sleep for five minutes or so before class started. I settled my backpack on the lab table and hid my head in the shadow it created. The cool surface of the table felt almost soothing as I grasped onto a few minutes of sleep.
Blink.
"Class is starting," a very soft voice told me.
I closed my eyes tighter and tried to block out the sound.
"I'd be happy to let you sleep but I think Mr. Banner might get annoyed."
I rubbed my eyes as I sat up, feeling more tired than before my little nap. I was far too tired to be nervous around Edward Cullen, if he wanted to kill me, he could go ahead. At least that way I might get some sleep.
He seemed amused as he watched me blink my eyes tiredly.
"Some of us have to sleep," I said crankily.
He tilted his head, looking puzzled at my statement.
"Met your Dad" I said, struggling not to yawn. I couldn't help how ridiculous their charade seemed to me. Lack of sleep was making me reckless.
"He mentioned that you were in the ER," he commented.
I glanced around at the students who are looking in my direction and whispering.
"Likely recovering from a drug overdose or something, right?"
He snickered, amused at my comment. I found myself oddly satisfied that I could make him laugh. Somehow today this strange dance we've been playing seemed funny. Here we are, both of us trying to play the normal teenager, when we're anything but. It brought an odd sense of kinship, because even though I'd like to think I'm a little more normal than him- who am I kidding?
"So, not going to kill me today?" I asked him bluntly. I mentally tried to find a way to censure my thoughts from leaving my mouth.
He seemed startled by the question and paused before answering.
"No today," he said hesitantly. The emphasis on today wasn't lost on me.
"Good," I said softly, before lowering my head onto my arm and feigning interest while I slept through most of the class.
School was finally over and I wondered what was going on at the Winters. When I left for school this morning, Mrs. Winters was still in the hospital having the liquid drained out of her lungs. Maybe she'd have to stay there for a couple days until they fixed whatever needed fixing. I didn't know if Mr. Winters was going to bother coming home or not. I supposed it didn't make much difference if he was there or not. It wasn't as if he was much company. But if I didn't have to cook dinner, I might swing by a restaurant and order myself something to eat.
The bus was loading but I purposefully lagged back and settled myself on a cement wall that surrounded some landscaping. My fellow classmates were rushing about, getting into cars and pulling away from school fast. A few people shouted my name in passing, saying they would see me tomorrow. The school parking lot looked like a dangerous place with so many new drivers moving quickly in such a small area. I'm rather glad I don't drive. Or so I told myself since I didn't have a car anyway.
It had been raining in the morning but the moisture must have evaporated and the clouds in the sky were white and fluffy. They were still obscuring the sun for the most part, but I could see small patches of blue sky and it felt like awhile since it had been so nice. Maybe spring was even coming, the thick jacket I was wearing felt unnecessary.
"You're going to miss your bus," he told me.
I should have expected him to be here, I tilted my neck a little to the left and could see Edward's concerned eyes looking down on me.
"Thought I'd walk today," I told him, "It's such a beautiful day."
He looked at the weak clouds with some slight disapproval. I suppose sunny days did make things difficult for him and his family.
"It's a long walk," he said casually.
For a moment I tensed wondering if he knew where I lived. He must.
"Not really," I rose to my feet and swung my bag across my shoulders.
As I was walking away I could feel his eyes on me, and couldn't stop myself from glancing back at him. It was strange, but somehow I got the feeling that there was more than blood lust in his eyes. It was incomprehensible, unnameable. I felt confused whenever I saw him now. I'd pretty much doomed myself to death that first day in Biology. And yet...
"Bye," I said softly.
It really was a beautiful day, for Forks anyway. The temperature had risen just enough that most of the scattered ice and snow that hadn't already melted was disappearing quickly. I removed my coat and bunched it up so that it could be tucked into my bag. With the light sweater I was wearing, I felt freer than I had in awhile. It was best to enjoy this, as the warm spell wasn't likely to last.
My tiredness seemed to have melted with the snow, and I caught myself smiling. I almost stopped, but then I let myself go. Why shouldn't I smile? For the first time in a long time I had a life that was my own. No Marius to tell me what to do, no Ako to scold, no Bari needing my attention, no Nomti to disappoint, no one to follow me, no one looking to me for guidance. No expectations at all, no weary century heavy lies to maintain.
So I was smiling, and enjoying the beautiful brushes of sunlight that landed on my face. I had left much of the town behind, and was walking on a winding road listening to the birds that were making noise in the tall pines. I built up some warmth during the walk and felt oddly refreshed after the stuffiness of the classroom.
I was happy, which is probably the reason I became careless. I forgot how fleeting life can be, I didn't even see the car.
It came speeding around the corner, moving far too fast. It hugged the edge of the road, and had this been any other day it probably wouldn't have been much of a problem, except I was walking at the edge of the road.
I only had a moment to gasp. And somehow I couldn't believe that this was how I was going to die. It seemed unfair, and so unexpected. Somehow the idea of human/vehicle collision had never factored into my life expectancy.
And, while I didn't know why my thoughts drifted to him, I felt bad for Edward Cullen. I guess he was right, he wouldn't be killing me today, or any day after all.
And then it hit.
But not from the front like I'd been expecting. Something slammed into my from the side, sweeping me across the road as I struggled to catch the breath that had been pushed from my lungs. I didn't even register the pair of shoulder that I clung to as the wind swept past me. I was moving through the woods quickly, watching the trees sweep past.
And just as suddenly it stopped and I dropped to the ground, falling in an undignified heap. My breath still seemed to come in harsh gasps and I wished that I could compose myself before looking up.
I noticed his shoes first. And I never paid much attention to fashion, someone in my position really can't. But they were a brown leather, not tennis shoes like other young people wore.
And then I met his face.
Edward.
He seemed startled, as if he couldn't believe that I was here anymore than I could believe that he was. It was like we were two terrified creatures who had stumbled upon each other in the dark. Our eyes seemed drawn to each other once again, only my strangled breathing broke apart the silence that had descended on us.
The noise seemed to startle him out of this trance.
"Are you alright," he said softly. He wouldn't look at my eyes anymore and seemed focused on the rising and falling of my chest. Maybe he was listening for something.
"Fine," I said weakly. "Why did you...?"
I couldn't wrap my head around the idea. Why would he save me, why would he care if I was alright? How would he even know? Did he want to save all my blood for himself? That must be it...and yet I felt certain that such a logical excuse wasn't true.
He looked away.
He'd have to kill me now, I knew this with a certainty. He'd only bought me borrowed time. The Volturi don't tolerate humans knowing about their kind. Surely a vampire as old as Edward must know that. And even more importantly, as far as the Cullens are concerned, he couldn't destroy whatever family they had created. Because as much as I wanted to call it a coven or a clan, I could tell what they really have is family. It's an awkward, mismatched bunch of people. But my own family is no better, maybe even worse.
He knew all this...and he was still hesitating. Even now, when we were alone in the woods, even though I'm just some kid who no one would miss, even though taking my life would slacken the burning thirst that turns his throat raw.
"It's okay," I said gently.
I wasn't certain what I had said. Had I signed my death certificate? It wasn't okay!
"I mean, don't worry. You didn't ruin the big secret. I already knew," I said softly, but I knew he could hear.
"What!" he said, his voice sharp and resounding in the air around us.
"You know, the whole vampire thing." Somehow the word vampire seemed foreign on my tongue, I'd been thinking it for so long but hadn't said it aloud. And it seemed strange to say the word so casually, in my family it's always uttered in the same context as a curse.
He wasn't prepared for that. "Are you afraid," he finally asked.
I meant to say yes, it's true after all. But somehow the word that came out of my mouth was, "No."
He stared at me, almost angry. I don't know why I said it, but somehow I'm not afraid of him. I should be, history has taught me nothing but the reckless destruction that all vampires bring about.
And yet for whatever reason Edward Cullen is different. Not his desires, but this strange self control.
I was drawn to it.
"You should be," he said darkly.
"I know," I muttered miserably. But somehow I wasn't, he'd left me alive so long.
"How do you know?" he probed, he seemed oddly fascinated with me as we continued to stand together.
"I've met your kind before," I said. It was an over simplification, more than Edward could know.
His gold eyes glowed with the challenge my deception raised.
"Your eyes," I said, as I stared into them. "Are they...naturally that color?" It was the only thing that made sense anymore.
"Yes," he said, pulling away from me and putting a distance between us.
"How..." I didn't come closer to him, but I was shocked by the strange urge that made me want to.
"My family and I are different from the others of our kind," he said slowly. "We don't drink human blood."
I was perplexed by the words that had come from his mouth, almost as if he were speaking gibberish.
"Pardon me?" I inquired, my skepticism must have shown on my face.
He watched me carefully once again, his eyes pouring over my face, "We drink the blood of animals."
I didn't really believe him.
"If you knew- why? Why are you still here? Do you really want to die?" he demanded, annoyed by the plain expression of disbelief.
"Where am I going to go?" I asked softly. "Where can I run that you can't follow?"
He took another step away.
"I'm not going to chase you," he said softly.
"You will," I said weakly. Nothing could end a bloodlust except death. Maybe I still existed because of his dedication to his family's curious diet. But no sense of morality could last forever against instinct.
I knew from experience… there was no way that Edward could. No matter how much I might want to think Edward was different, I was stupid to forget all I knew.
Something of my thoughts must have shown on my face, Edward looked almost pained.
"I don't want to hurt you," he said with such a gentle, caring voice, I really wanted to believe that he meant it. I didn't know why, but it filled a certain part of me that I hadn't realized was empty.
The sun was dipping below the hills, coating us in the soft light of twilight. The trees and the needles under our feet released the thick smell of pine and standing, as we were, so far from the rushing sounds of traffic and civilization, it was almost easy to believe that the rest of time had slipped away. Time is such a heavy burden to bear, so many lifetimes of living and dying.
I turned back, but while I had been staring into the sunlight his face had never left mine.
"What are you?" he asked.
I wondered if I'd ever been more transparent, did my charade fool anyone. Or was it always so obvious what a broken thing I was.
"I'm…just an old soul," I said trying to force a smile.
He found it funny, maybe he didn't understand.
"Want to come over for dinner?" He asked suddenly.
"Dinner?" I speculated nervously.
He must have found his choice of words funny, "Yeah, Esme is actually a really good cook. She should be in full swing by now. Your guardians are probably still at the hospital...you have to eat right?"
I had thought about eating out, but this wasn't what I had in mind.
Edward's brow rose, and …was there the glint of challenge in his eyes? Or was it my imagination? Or maybe it was my own subtle defiance that made me want to go.
"Okay," I said, more out of a desire not to show cowardice than anything else.
He held out his hand to me, cautiously, but this time I was certain that there was testing, challenging quality to the gesture.
I grasped his cold hand, shivering a bit now in the evening air that was descending. I had a feeling I was going to need my jacket now, but I stayed very still.
"This will be faster," He said.
"How will— "
He moved so fast I was swung over his back and we were riding the wind before I could finish the sentence.
"You better hold on tight," he shouted over the rising noise of the air flying past.
I'd lost my mind, I knew it, I was riding this enticing new theory that maybe vampires weren't the bloodthirsty fiends I had always known. It would be a short ride, must be. It couldn't be that they had a choice, just as humans did. But I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on tight. I could smell his intoxicating sweet scent, it swept around me enveloping in its odor, so rich it set my teeth on edge— in the way that their scent can always do. I was certain it was probably nice, but when it's been the last thing you've smelled so many times...well the odor loses its charm.
He stopped suddenly, and I knew we'd traveled a large distance in the space of a few moments. I couldn't see the sun anymore, it was blocked by the thick ring of trees that surrounds the Cullen's home.
I suddenly felt as if I'd taken a very drastic step, and I struggled to maintain my calm. Edward was also well aware of the awkwardness and he sent me a cautious glance.
"Maybe this was a bad idea," he offered.
Ah, escape, brilliant.
"It's a great idea," an excited, perky voice intruded. "I'm glad you were in time, Edward. This is much better than the other way." Alice, or so I'd learned her name to be, was poised in the open door with a cheerful grin and a welcoming gesture. "I've already told everyone you're coming," she added.
Doom, Marius warned me that my major flaw, or at least one of my major flaws, is my belief that 'people' change, people being a loose definition of the word. And my inability to turn down a challenge. And a complete lack of self preservation. And the tendency to rely on intuition. And— well the list is fairly long. If he were here, he'd probably say that it serves me right if I end up on the menu. Of course I'd rather not think about what Marius would do if he were here, it would probably end up the way most events with Marius and vampires go: bloodshed, fire, untimely deaths.
I followed Edward inside, and Alice directed us into the kitchen where the family was gathered, looking as warm and welcoming as a snow storm.
"Bella, good to see you again," Dr. Cullen said.
"Er, yes, hello Dr. Cullen," I stuttered.
"Hello, dear," a woman added. She fluttered beside Dr. Cullen, her hands nervously at her waist.
"This is Esme," Edward introduced, "My mother, for all intents and purposes. And well, you've met the others."
I knew them all from school and nodded slowly.
"So Bella knew all about us," Alice said excitedly. "That makes this last week so much more interesting. Even I didn't know that," she chatted casually while the rest of us stood awkwardly.
"Yes, that is an interesting question," Rosalie said looking harpy-like as she towered over the meeting with her arms crossed.
Jasper frowned as well and Alice placed a small restraining hand on his shoulder, drawing him back to stand beside her.
"Yes, forgive our curiosity, Bella, but I'm certain you can understand why we'd be concerned." Dr. Cullen had a nice fatherly way of making you feel guilty even when you hadn't done anything wrong.
"I'm not going to tell anyone about you, if that is what you're worried about," I said with a frown, "What would be the point, they'd think I'm insane."
They shared a silent sort of communication as I finished the statement.
"How exactly do you know about us," Rosalie demanded, obviously not being distracted from her purpose. She moved her hands to her hips, Emmett who had stood beside her, looked faintly amused by her ire and chuckled deeply at her fierce posture.
"I've met your kind before," I repeated for their benefit, although Alice didn't seem to need information, she merely nodded her head.
Rosalie merely raised one of her well-shaped eyebrows. Apparently she wasn't as easy to appease as Edward and Alice.
"Why do you think I'm in foster care?" I asked her with a bit of venom in my tone. I wasn't particularly mad, but people like Rosalie only respond to strength and I needed to be strong to get through this.
That seemed to shock her, and she drew back. Beside me Edward flinched, maybe he had been hoping I'd had a distant glimpse at his kind.
"I'm sorry...your parents?" Esme said, her voice tender.
"Not exactly," I said, "My…family, for all intents and purpose." I used Edward's phrasing with a slight glance at the vampire.
"You must have been young," Carlisle said gently.
"It doesn't really matter." They probably thought I was lying, or perhaps in denial. But they didn't know my family, it actually didn't matter.
"Edward said that you don't drink human blood, so..." I shrugged then watched them closely to see if I could detect any falsehood. But their similar amber eyes told me the truth more plainly their expressions.
"That's very understanding," Carlisle added, his warm eyes seemed more than a little curious. He was a doctor maybe he was busy wondering, like all the other doctors had, if I had some sort of psychological defect. But he was vampire, so— throwing stones, glass house, you get the picture.
"You must be hungry," Esme interrupted her husband's questioning gaze and approached me hesitantly. "I make a meal, hate to waste the groceries. Usually it just goes to various people and places..."
"Esme's quite the humanitarian," Edward quipped.
She batted his shoulder in a motherly fashion, "Well, it will be fun to see someone enjoy it. We never use the dining room, well not for.."
"Not for eating," I added.
Esme looked hesitant, "Yes."
The dining room proved to be perhaps one of the best rooms of the house, at least in my opinion. Of course my good mood might also have had something to do with the fact that Rosalie and Emmett had decided not to join our little party. The blonde beauty had gone to her room in a manner that could only be called pouting, and her burly husband had followed with a smirk.
"Dinner's almost ready," Esme said, brushing her hands on my shoulder gently. She seemed to have wanted to reach out to me since we'd met, and oddly enough her gentle touch hadn't sent chills down my spine. I was almost sad to see her dart back into the kitchen, Dr. Cullen following after her steps.
The first thing I noticed about the dining room was the table and the chairs. They were old, made from hand tools, probably constructed long before anyone even dreamed of an electric saw. There is a subtle uniqueness to each piece when they are made the old ways. When I settled myself in one of the chairs I felt oddly composed. I missed the world that made things like this. Sometimes this new time seemed to move so fast. Cars that reached upwards of one hundred miles per hour, rockets that broke the Earth's gravity and landed on the moon, information sent and received in the blink of an eye. Everything was fast.
I looked up to meet Jasper's curious gaze.
"So, what's your ability," I asked him directly.
I was starting to put together the hints I'd been given. Alice had been the first, what with her strange knowledge of things she couldn't know. Jasper made me wonder if only because he seemed to pull from the air, almost as if he were reading something. Most covens had a few vampires with abilities, at least the strong ones did.
"Jasper can sense emotions," Alice said plopping down on his left.
Her blond companion sent her a questioning look.
"It's alright, she would have figured it out. And look, she doesn't mind at all."
"Sense or manipulate?" I asked, clarification was important in such instances.
"Both," Jasper said bluntly. He didn't seem to want to meet my eyes.
Edward growled suddenly, and I couldn't help but flinch. It was with some relief that I realized he was staring at Jasper and not me.
"Don't think of her as a mission, I won't let that happen."
I felt as if I'd missed part of the conversation.
Alice laughed, which sparked everyone to look at her curiously. "It's nothing," she said, waving her hand in a surprisingly human gesture.
I narrowed my eyes, "So you can see the future."
"Mostly," she nodded, then she cocked her head in the same irritating way that Edward did when he wanted to seem innocent. "Only you're a little blurry," she said squinting her eyes. "I just saw it in time, you're lucky Edward is so fast."
I shrugged off her mention of my almost death. Her saving my life didn't mean as much as she thought it did. "Maybe your second sight needs glasses," I said with a vacant expression. I've never been fond of Seers, have a few bad experiences and you start to understand that seeing the future isn't so great.
"It's interesting having you around," Alice said, not seeming to mind my negative tone. "The future gets so distorted, it's almost like it's changing too fast."
"You see pathways," I said suddenly, relaxing some. Path seers are much more tolerable, they only see the path people are on, but futures can change. It's the ones who see the 'immutable hand of fate' that get on my nerves.
"You seem to know a lot about vampires," Jasper commented.
I grew very still, it didn't take a genius to read his tone, and I was starting to understand Edward's reaction earlier. There was at least one Cullen who wasn't taking my enlightenment well. I stared at Jasper and wondered what it was about him that seemed familiar. Perhaps that was the first flaw, trusting feelings around a master emotion manipulator, but I couldn't help but sense that I knew him, or that he reminded me of someone.
It wasn't until I spotted the thin white scars edging the collar of his shirt that I began to understand. Jasper reeked of war, the scent of it clung to him in a way that decades, centuries of death and destruction can. I couldn't say for certain how old he was, but whatever he had seen had jaded him in a way that the others weren't. The other Cullens saw me as a possible liability, but to Jasper's war torn heart I was nothing but a danger. And something that needed to be put down.
This complicated things.
"You're from the South, aren't you," I said sadly, referring to the bloody turmoil that I knew had ripped apart the Southern states, and still did in some places.
His eyes narrowed, and I swallowed nervously, I hadn't allayed any of his concerns.
Edward placed a protective hand between the two of us, I glanced at him wondering how he could interpret the tension between his brother and I so well. And why was he once again trying to protect me.
"Here, hope you like Cornish hens, they were just too adorable..." Esme trailed off weakly as she entered the room, both arms laden with enough food to feed two football teams. She frowned when she identified the fierce expressions. Both Jasper and Edward were facing off in an argument that I couldn't hear.
"What's the matter," she demanded. It was scary how much like a mother she could sound. It's been a long time since I've had a mother but even I felt shamed by her strict eyes.
The conversation between them dropped to a level lower than I could hear and I stood feeling very much an outsider while their lips moved silently.
I frowned. "I can guess, you know."
Edward turned to me a similar frown on his face.
"Somewhere along the lines of killing me and making it look like an accident." I tried to keep calm by being cavalier, "Seems an awful lot of work, it's not like there is anyone to miss me." The phrase should sound all wounded and pitiable, but it was just a fact, plain and simple, so I said it thusly.
"Don't talk like that," Edward said, his eyes growing dark, his expression reverting to the strange revulsion I'd seen when I'd first met him.
"Why not...?"
Edward didn't answer, he pushed himself away from me, leaning back in his chair and glaring at Jasper.
I felt confused, "I get it," I said speaking to Edward, "The… family," I said the word awkwardly but I could feel it "It's important. Jasper's just trying to protect it." Did he think I was dumb, that I couldn't see the obviousness of it?
"But not at the cost of an innocent life," Carlisle stated firmly, arriving from the kitchen so silently I hadn't noticed him there.
"Exactly," Esme said, brushing a hand through Jasper's hair. "But it is sweet, dear."
I doubt many mothers get the chance to tell their sons that premeditated murder is a 'sweet' but unnecessary gesture. Still, the irony of such a moment was lost on me considering a full plate had been set down and I was just realizing that my usual dinner hour had come and gone. And Esme's cooking... it was difficult not to drool as the rich, heady scent caught my nose. How long had it been since I've had a meal like this? True I was a decent cook, but my skills have always proven themselves best in adversity. I'm hardly a chef, my cooking doesn't demonstrate any artistry. It's filling and suits its purpose but Esme's food reminded me that sometimes a meal could be an event, not just an action necessary for survival.
"Bon Appetite," she encouraged.
As if I needed that, the first bite was like heaven. Forget it. Even if Jasper decided to kill me, after this meal it would be worth it.
I must have expressed my enjoyment in some audible way as Esme smiled and settled in to watch me eat, she seemed completely content and pleased with herself.
"Hmm, it's delicious," I managed to tell her between bites.
She smiled wider, in that strangely inhuman way that vampires can, "I'm so glad. I often worry it won't be good. I rely so much on smell to see if it's coming along."
Carlisle took a seat next to his wife, he was an easy sort of man. He was happy so long as she was happy. Really all of the Cullens were surprisingly well matched. Even Jasper and Alice, who had seemed like such an odd pairing at school, I was starting to see how each supported the other in some way. And Rosalie and Emmett, opposites in many ways and yet perfectly balanced. Even Edward, though alone, was still part of the family. His and Jasper's disagreement was like sibling squabbling.
I couldn't help but wonder how such different and yet similar people had met up and started this little family. Carlisle seemed the oldest, not only because he played the role of father...there was something ancient about him. Most people wouldn't notice it, but I could see it in the way he looked over them all.
Sometimes I felt the same when I was with my friends at school. I was among them, but it became hard to understand their struggles at times. It all seemed so old.
"You seem like Carlisle," Jasper said, looking at me with the same concentration.
He must be testing my emotions, I resolved myself to avoid such nostalgic thinking.
Carlisle seemed surprised by the sudden comparison.
"What is it," Jasper asked, he leaned in closer, almost as if her were trying to catch the last of some lingering scent. "It's familiar," he trailed off his thoughts, his expression unsatisfied.
Edward looked interested as well, and somehow jealous. But Edward always confused me more than the others. The Cullens had their code to live by, so they let me live without any passing thought. I was just one human among many. But I knew my blood held a special significance for Edward, why was he going through this? Why had he brought me here?
Why had I come?
"Now you're just confused," Jasper provided for me.
"Thanks, I should carry you around like a mood ring," I informed him with a smile.
I ate more of Esme's food, chewing slowly, but I was full before much time had passed and the silence in the room was starting to seem unbearable.
"I should be going home," I said, interrupting the stares.
"I'll drive you," Edward said, rising to his feet so quickly it looked as if there had been no transition between sitting and standing.
"That's okay," I said quickly. "It's not that far, I can walk."
Edward frowned, "You're forgetting," he said with a dour expression, and my near death came hurtling back.
"I'll drive."
It seemed that Edward was mute to my protests. I suppose logically I could see his point, I had almost been killed by one roadside collision. What were the chances of it happening again?
But, I hadn't been inside Edward's shiny Volvo for more than a few minutes before I wondered if maybe walking had been the safer choice. His car sped through the country roads at a speed that had me quoting automobile crash statistics, and it was difficult not to picture what I'd look like if his car wrapped around a tree.
He probably wouldn't even ruin his clothes.
But I gritted my teeth and looked out the window as the world sped by, holding my seatbelt tightly as we whipped around the corners.
Speed did have one advantage, it took no time at all for us to pull into the Winters's driveway. Mr. Winters's truck was noticeably absent, which told me that he and his wife were probably still at the hospital. I mentally made plans to drop by the hospital tomorrow morning if Mrs. Winters didn't come home tonight.
Edward opened my car door and I stood next to him awkwardly.
"Well, thanks," I said hesitantly.
He was peering at me closely.
"You seem fine," he told me, but he sounded as if he didn't believe his words.
"Yeah, thanks for saving my life," I repeated, wondering if he thought I had been thanking him for the ride, or for dinner...I was deep in debt to Edward Cullen and it wasn't a position I wanted to be in.
"I've been waiting for you to go into shock or something, you almost died," he reminded me.
"I said thank you?" I pointed out, wondering if he had gone deaf.
"Normal people don't process that sort of shock well." He was peering at me once again, his expression filled with the faint exasperation that often littered his face when he was talking to me. The intensity of that expression forced my eyes to drop and stare at my hands with a new intensity.
"What are you thinking?" he demanded suddenly, making me glance up in surprise.
"I guess I'm wondering why you care?" I asked, voicing the question that had been bothering me ever since my dark knight had swooped down and saved me from an oncoming car.
He ran a hand through his copper hair, the gesture filled with the fake humanity.
"I feel very… protective of you," he finally said after some thought.
"Why?" I wanted to know. "I can tell that...well..." I trailed off uncomfortably. What is the polite way of saying, 'I know you want to drink me dry'.
"You interest me," he said softly.
"I'm not that interesting," I said. It was half a lie and half the truth.
"You're hard to read," he said tilting his head in that annoying puppy fashion I'd come to expect from him.
"Not really," I crossed my arms as the chill from being outside made me want to shiver. The last light was leaving us.
"You're cold," he said softly. He looked completely content in the chill air.
"Yeah well," I gestured toward the house.
Edward moved toward the door and opened it, even though I was rather certain that it had been locked. He held the door open for me.
"You're not…were you wanting to come in?" I questioned with some doubt, mostly my own.
"Can't I?" He asked, his voice teasing.
I held my chin high, like I could keep a vampire out. "Come in," I offered.
"You didn't have to invite me," he mentioned as we stepped into the open house. "It's a legend about Vampires needing to be invited to cross the threshold."
Not if I had some Sutherlandia, I thought thinking of a particularly useful African herb.
I flicked on the lights and we stood awkwardly in the living room. I'd cleaned up most of the remains from our aborted dinner the previous evening, but some remnants of our hurried departure remained.
"I'm just going to put my bag in my room," I told him, slinging my backpack over my shoulder and moving down the dark hall to my room. Frankly I was tired and I wanted to ask him to leave, but it seemed rude to thank my savior in such a fashion.
"Your room is a little empty," Edward's voice made me jump.
I whirled around, noticing with a falling stomach that he'd actually followed me inside and was examining the small space with a great deal of fascination. Really his curiosity about me was both a little frightening and maybe even flattering. I wasn't certain which emotion was winning out. Still, Edward being in my room left a strange fluttering feeling in my stomach. Panic? Terror?
"What sort of music do you listen to?" he asked, he seemed to be disappointed that his answer wasn't readily available for his visual inspection.
"I don't have a CD player," I said with a shrug. That was the current music device, or was it MP3 players that preoccupied my generation?
"I can see that," he said, examining the empty shelves. "But what sort of music."
"Oh," I sat down on my bed. It had actually been awhile since anyone had asked me that. "I like a lot of music."
He wasn't satisfied, "Favorite song?"
I struggled to think of something that I had heard on the radio, or something that my friends at school had mentioned, but nothing came to mind. "Chopin's Op. 72, No. 1 In E Minor," I said, unable to think of anything to say but the truth.
Edward looked surprised, but his lips quirked into a faint smile. "It's romantic," he mentioned with some amusement.
"You think so," I said, not rising to his bait, "I always thought it was kind of sad."
"It really is your favorite," he said once again sounding oddly surprised. "Favorite movie?" he asked, moving on before I could reply.
"Broken Blossoms," I said absently.
"The silent film?"
"Mmm Hmm, with Lillian Gish." I settled on my bed and looked at my hands.
"I remember the posters...but I never got to see it," he said softly. "My mother loved Lillian Gish."
Why couldn't I have said some normal movie like anyone else? I hadn't meant to draw upon something significant. Broken Blossoms was one of the first moving pictures I'd ever seen and nothing has compared since. Maybe Casablanca, but I was never a Bogart fan.
"I'm tired," I said quickly.
"Oh, of course." Edward took a step back hesitantly. "Then I'll bid you goodnight."
"Good night, Edward,"
I was going to turn away, when he suddenly stepped forward, raising his hand in my direction. His palms were very white and his fingers were lean and long. And for the briefest moment his pointer finger slid down the edge of my face, running from brow to chin. His hands were cold and I held my breath.
"Good night, Bella," his voice seemed strangely deep.
And he was gone, almost as if he'd never been there. And somehow, I felt as if he had left some sort of turmoil behind. The place where his cold hand had gently brushed my face seemed to burn with an odd heat. An energy, a force within my chest seemed to have sent my heart to beating unnaturally fast.
It must be fear, fear was the only thing that made sense.