Chapter 7: Visitor

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Edward

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I was slightly alarmed when I first caught the tenor of the strange mind ahead of me. I slowed and stopped, Carlisle and Esme coming up behind me.

What is it Edward? Carlisle asked in thought.

"Someone is at the house, one of our kind. I can hear them. They… He… seems to know you," I said catching more specifics as I focused. I turned to Carlisle who was as confused as I was.

A Friend? Esme wondered. Carlisle never talked about his friends. He had a few in the vampire community that I knew of, mostly nomads. He also had enemies, people who didn't agree with the way he lived and saw him as an abomination. Her eyes flickered to Carlisle worriedly.

What are his intentions? Carlisle thought, his mind on a similar track to Esme's. He was considering all the ways he could keep her out of danger. I would have found it comical if I weren't worried about the same thing.

"I don't know." I answered both of them. "He's not really thinking about us, just waiting. He's bored. I think he's been there a while." Esme bit her lip worriedly.

I'm still stronger than most vampires; maybe I can protect Carlisle and Edward. I had expected the protective tone she had for Carlisle but her view of me was a shock. It was different, less possessive and more… I couldn't quite decipher it. I knew she would die for Carlisle but she would kill to keep me safe.

If he proves violent will you protect her? Take her away from here if you can? Carlisle thought to me. The lake is your safest bet; he won't be able to follow your scent there.

I just nodded to him. Never mind that Esme would never leave him even if I tried to force her. Carlisle of course was hoping he could smooth the entire thing over with words. Silently we set off, slower now, for home.

Our visitor was lounging on the front porch as if he owned it. He was a tall lanky vampire with a mop of raggedy dark hair and bright red eyes. His clothes, a long brown coat and dark sturdy pants and shirt, were well worn and molted with stains. His mind was surprisingly childlike, flitting from one interesting train of thought to another as soon as they lost novelty to him. He jumped up as soon as he saw us and cried out.

"Carlisle! I knew it was you the moment I crossed the scent!"

"Garret," Carlisle was surprised. He's a friend, or he was, my father thought to me.

He looks wild, Esme thought, as she lingered behind Carlisle, still tense and ready to jump in front of us both. I held up a hand behind me to hold her off.

Garret ambled with a definite swagger right up to my father and embraced him with a friendly chuckle.

"You haven't aged a day," he joked and released Carlisle.

"You've gotten, if anything, more riotous," Carlisle replied. Garret's eyes turned to Esme and I. He scanned me with a curious look, noting my youthful appearance and yellow eyes. Then he saw Esme.

What a mot! Garret thought as his eyes raked up and down Esme's curves, which he could see all too well in the fitted blue dress she had made for herself. I bit back a growl at the way he thought about her, like a thing to acquire.

"Garret, this is Edward and Esme," Carlisle introduced us. Edward, he thought to me, it might be prudent to keep your talent quiet for now. I gave the barest of nods when Garret wasn't looking.

"No longer traveling alone," our visitor noted, "No longer traveling at all. Your house?" He asked pointing back at the building.

"Yes," Carlisle replied.

"I guess there are perks to your peculiarities," Garret said without any trace of hostilities. He truly viewed Carlisle and his lifestyle as a curiosity and nothing more. "So, Ed, how did he convince you to convert? Did he give you the morals speech?" Garret was grinning, remembering his first meeting with Carlisle. He had been ecstatic just to find something new and interesting in the strange European doctor, even if said curiosity was a Brit.

"Something like that," I said and shook hands with the strange new vampire.

"I suppose he just used his manly charm on you, sweets," Garret said to Esme, shaking her hand as well. "Oh!" He laughed when Esme accidentally squeezed to hard. "Firm grip, you must be quite young." Esme looked startled and immediately apologetic. Garret just lifted her hand in his and kissed the back of it, holding her eyes with his-own.

Beside me I felt Carlisle stiffen, uncomfortable to have anyone's teeth so close to Esme's skin.

"Did you change her?" He asked Carlisle, releasing Esme.

"Yes." My father relaxed a little. "Edward as well about 3 years ago in Chicago." Garret was genuinely impressed to hear it. He himself didn't have the control necessary to do so. He'd even tried a couple times over his many years. Not as many years, I noticed, as Carlisle.

"Making a little family for yourself?" He asked. I wonder which one he wants for his mate. Unless it's both, could be both, Garret was wondering. I truly wished in that moment I couldn't see his vivid imagination.

"Carlisle changed me when I was dying of Spanish Flu," I said quickly, trying to distract Garret. "Esme had fallen from a cliff when Carlisle found her." Esme's thoughts were grateful for the selective wording.

"Oh you would pick the lost causes, wouldn't you?" Garret mumbled. "So, are you going to invite me in?" He bounded back toward the house. Carlisle followed, shaking his head.

"You'll come in regardless," my father replied. We both knew Garret would.

"It's the thought that counts right?" Garret joked and I rolled my eyes. Esme and I followed them inside warily. I went straight to my piano, somehow I felt more comfortable there. Esme wandered around the edge of the room, watching Garret and Carlisle in turn.

"So what brings you here?" Carlisle asked, sitting on the sofa. Garret lounged in one of the chairs haphazardly.

"Ran out of battles to fight. I had a bit of fun down in West Virginia but I got told off for poking around in Europe so I'm probably still just sulking. I thought I'd come west and see if anything interesting was brewing."

"I think you'll find the northern border a quiet place."

"Damn Canadians!" Garret chuckled. "I thought about going south."

Carlisle stiffened and I saw a few snatches of stories cross his mind. They were ones I'd heard before and I shivered. Esme looked between the three of us, confused.

"Then I thought better of it," Garret added, looking around the room, noting it was well kept and furnished. His eyes found Esme and he grinned at her lewdly. Embarrassed by the attention, she turned to her sewing area and began straightening it meticulously.

I bet she's got a feistier side, Garret thought.

"I hear that things are still… rough down there." Carlisle said. "But I haven't heard anything in quite a few years."

"You know our kind, we don't forget much," Garret said. "There are still a lot of unresolved feuds down there. The nomads I've met from that way say it's hard to travel without making some allegiances and any allegiance will make you enemies. Not my style."

"But anywhere the US troops are deployed…"

"I'm there," Garret said with a cocky grin. "Once a patriot, always a patriot. Besides, American women are the best." I saw him revisiting the image of Esme's body in his mind, wondering what kind of noises she'd make when touched. Less than a breath later he was savoring the memory of his last meal, a beautiful blond woman with bright blue eyes and tantalizing blood. Even his secondhand memory made my throat ache like it was too close to an open flame. It almost overshadowed my anger at his previous train of thought, but only almost. I was still seething.

"So where have your travels taken you since we last met?" Carlisle asked.

"That was Maryland, 1864," Garret muttered, "I went up and down the east coast a couple times. Saw Texas but I didn't stay long there. Too much sun." He went on about his travels, describing the place and battles for Carlisle. All the while his thoughts would stray back to Esme who was bent over organizing some cut patterns but not really working on them. She was listening, curious to know about new places and hopeful that she might see them one day.

Garret's thoughts were much less innocent. The first was fairly tame and concentrated mostly on what it would be like to explore Esme's body with his hands. The next was more graphic. I began playing, trying to just listen to the spoken words not the thoughts Garret was exploring loudly, ignorant of his audience. I gritted my teeth when he pictured her in wild, animalistic passion. Some small part of my brain admired that he could talk so calmly while picturing such graphic endeavors. I played on, focusing on the expression and intricacies of Chopin's Nocturne No. 1. Garrets thoughts were louder though. He wondered if Esme liked love delicate or rough. He favored rough and lingered on the thought. How would she react if I came onto her like that? He wondered. I could see him picturing her, bending over her table of fabric and his hand coming out to grab her and shove her against the table roughly. In his imagination she responded with equally forceful passion but I knew that would never happen. I had seen similar scenes in Esme's mind where it was Charles coming up behind her with alcohol on his breath, smelling of smoke, growling in her ear and only one thing on his mind. He had been happy enough to leave bruises on her human body and take what he wanted despite her pleading and screams of pain. Esme never fought back in any of her memories. She would not fight Garret either.

My hands slammed down on the piano keys in a discordant thunder of hammers that was drowned out by the vicious growl I couldn't contain. Everyone else jumped. Esme stood and spun so quickly she upturned her chair. Carlisle sat forward, feet planted on the ground but not standing. Garret didn't shift position but he was tensed to move if I attacked.

"Would you please," I hissed through my teeth, "refrain from such base fantasies involving Esme!" Somehow 'Esme' didn't begin to cover who she was to Carlisle and I.

"Edward?" Carlisle asked me with a raised eyebrow. I thought we were being cautious, he thought. Was what he was thinking so bad?

"Yes," I hissed at him.

Garret was watching me with rapt curiosity. Can he read minds? He thought, rightly realizing that I was answering to more than just my name. If he can that would amazing! I've never seen it's equal in terms of gifts. Charles could tell even when I intended to lie to him. That old bat, Gerda, could put suggestions in people's heads but she had to actually touch them. This boy was on the other side of the room!

"Interesting," I said, glad at least that he was no longer focused on Esme, "Garret has met two other vampires with similar mental abilities but none were as specific as mine," I told Carlisle. Our guest practically jumped out of his seat with excitement.

"What a talent!" He gaped at me. "Carlisle, did you know he would be so gifted?"

"Not at all," my father said truthfully, "It was as much a surprise to me as it was to Edward himself. Can you imagine the confusion of suddenly knowing the thoughts of everyone around you? It didn't help that we were in the city of Chicago."

"What would that be like?" Garret wondered. He tried to picture it, like all a multitude of TV screens in his head showing him everyone else's mind.

"Not quite like that," I explained, "I do get images but they don't… they feel more like memories to me even if they happen in real time. It's much more like hearing, especially when you direct your thoughts at me."

Makes talking rather superfluous I'd guess. How far does it work? Feet? Yards? Miles? His mind was racing with tactical advantages.

"Miles," I answered.

And close up, you hear everything as I think it?

"Yes."

I wonder what that would be like in a fight, to know your opponent's moves before they make them!

"It made me a bit hard to control as a newborn, Carlisle will tell you. I was very good at getting away from him."

"Yes he was and I never had a hope of overpowering him or catching him." Carlisle had managed to keep up with the audible half of the conversation.

"You still can't catch me, old man," I chuckled.

I wonder if it works with instinctual fighting? Am I wild enough to be a match for this kid? Garret thought.

"I'd be happy to let you try," I offered. "I don't get many wrestling partners." None actually. I watched Garret try to picture Carlisle wrestling. Clearly he'd never seen my father truly angry. I had only seen that twice. Once was in Carlisle's memory of meeting Charles Evenson and the other was our last encounter with an unexpected visitor. Of course if Garret ever followed through with one of his fantasies about Esme he would find out very quickly what Carlisle's rage was. There was nothing wild or uncontrolled about it. My father became cold and focused. It was a deadly combination.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Carlisle said, apprehensively.

"All in good sport," Garret assured him.

"He does mean that," I agreed, seeing only benign curiosity in Garret. I knew he was confidant in his years of experience but I was confident in my ability to predict his moves with more than just my mind reading talent. It would be a fun way to burn off some of my residual anger.

As I followed Garret outside I considered my reaction to his thoughts on Esme. In my mind Esme belonged to Carlisle. I knew she was genuinely devoted to him and he was fiercely possessive of her even if he felt unnecessarily guilty for it. She was his, they simply hadn't acknowledged that yet. But somehow she was also mine. As what? I was forced to ask myself. A coven-mate? A friend? A cousin? A sister? None of those terms seemed appropriate. They described my protectiveness toward her but not the way she cared for me and her attention to my happiness. I couldn't help but linger on the care with which she undertook the renovation of my small room upstairs or how she wanted to hear about my musical studies, what I struggled with and what I enjoyed. My mother had been that way, always asking about my life when she couldn't be there beside me. Was that it? I wondered as I took my stance across from Garret in the back yard. He had shed his long coat and was making a show of loosening his muscles and intimidating me. He winked at Esme and I growled.

Bring it, Kid. Garret thought. He was just flirting with her now to mess with me. I grinned. For all his inappropriate thoughts, I was actually starting to like Garret.

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Garret

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"I'm very glad I stopped in on my old friend," I said with a hearty laugh. I was laid out on the grass of Carlisle's yard with Edward, the strange mind reader not far away, sitting down after our last bout. It had been a long time since I was so well matched. You learn fast kid, I thought to him, a strange but amazingly efficient way of communicating.

"Thank you. The communicating takes some getting used to. Carlisle was quite unnerved by it for a long time."

Not surprising. I bet he has a lot of secrets worth hiding after two and a half centuries.

"He's surprising good at hiding them too, even from me. Perhaps he's just better at lying to himself!" There was rueful note in his voice. I looked around, curious if the man we spoke of was within earshot.

"They went hunting a while ago while we were busy. Esme was a bity unsettled by our… game."

She's a gentle one. She'd make a good match for Carlisle I guess. From what I knew of Carlisle he was the most human vampire I had ever met. It followed that his mate would be similar. Edward groaned.

"You have no idea!"

About them? Are they mates? They didn't act like it if they were. Usually mates were so in sync they practically existed as one person. How they could live that way, so co-dependent, I would never understand. Edward was a single guy like me. He seemed like the bachelor type. Maybe he understood where I was coming from when I said it really baffled me.

"A bit," He answered my thoughts, "but I see in their heads. She worships him and he's just as devoted to her! It's like their whole world revolves around the other but they're incapable of even imagining it might be mutual."

How blind has the old fool gotten? Must be the animal blood. Neither of them knows what the other feels?

"No!" Edward growled. "And both have sworn me to secrecy!"

Yikes. Bet that's fun to listen to every day, I chuckled. Poor bastard.

"Ugh, I just want to slam their heads together some days."

"Why don't you?" I asked, forgetting I didn't have to speak aloud.

"Carlisle would see it as a breach of Esme's trust and Esme would feel guilty about making me break my word to Carlisle even if they did end up happy. That's assuming that they believe me."

That's tough. And why I'm better off alone.

"Sometimes I'm inclined to think you're right. Carlisle doesn't agree. He was…. Loneliness didn't suit him."

Yeah, but we aren't Carlisle.

"True. I haven't met many other vampires but I do know my father is a strange one."

Father? Is that how you think of him? And he thinks of you as his son?

"He does. I was never close with my real father so he filled that role for me easily. He feels responsible for me, and not just making sure I don't provoke the Italians."

And Esme? What does that make her? Your mother? When Edward was silent at this quiet thought I looked over at him. He was frowning and his brow was furrowed. How amazing it would be to have his gift, to be able to know what people were thinking in those silent moments.

"It's not always a gift." Edward said suddenly, unnerving yellow eyes snapping to mine. "I see things in other people's head that I wish I didn't. Carlisle's seen the worst side of humanity and I see that. Esme was abused by her husband and went through some of the worst pain anyone can endure and I see that. Random people on the street, I see all the worries and dark desires they keep locked away. You'd be surprised how many human murderers there are."

So my earlier… thoughts about Esme…

"Yes, that's why I reacted so strongly. I've seen that in a much less consensual way from her point of view."

Carlisle would pick the broken one.

"She's not broken. Scarred maybe but she's stronger than you think, stronger than Carlisle thinks."

I'm glad I stopped by, this is proving to be the most interesting thing I've seen in 20 years. I think I'm going to enjoy staying here. How much do you think I'll have to flirt with Esme to set Carlisle off?

"He could hardly stand for you to be in the same room with her," Edward said chuckling. "But unless Esme raises to the bait he won't either."

Challenge accepted. I grinned and leaned back in the grass. Yes, I was very glad I stopped by.

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Esme

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Garret was a strange visitor in Carlisle's house. He was happy to read whatever books were available thought he rarely finished any one of them. He had Edward teach him the basics of the piano but quickly lost interest. He was fascinated by Carlisle's continued devotion to medicine and how readily Edward and I accepted our creator's strange lifestyle. After the first day he was even an enjoyable person to have around. Edward was excited to have a sparing partner, though I could never bear to watch them even mock fighting. I enjoyed hearing of Garrets travels. He was an animated storyteller and spent each evening entertaining us with stories. Carlisle enjoyed the company and conversation of someone closer to his peer (at least in terms of age), reminiscing of times that Edward and I had only read about in history books. It made me wonder, to see Carlisle so invigorated by company, what he must have been like before Edward and I came into his life, when he was alone.

I could have done without Garret's flirting though. He took every offered opportunity and when there wasn't one, he fabricated it. Each time Garret would share a look with Edward in some silent conspiracy. I simply rolled my eyes at the two of them and tried to be as unaffected as Carlisle look by the whole thing.

At last, Garret bored of us as he did of everything eventually, or so he told me. Edward and I saw him out as Carlisle was on shift. He'd said goodbye to Garret every morning he went to work.

"If you tire of us before I return, it was good to catch up with you again. Look us up again in a few decades." It was always the same and probably a good thing that he did so because when Garret decided to leave it was suddenly and he acted without delay.

"I'm off," He said, putting down a half finished book.

"Enjoy Minneapolis," Edward said as he came downstairs.

"Oh, I'm sure I will," Garret said, pulling on the old jacket, now mended and patched with reinforced pockets. He had seemed genuinely thankful when I offered to fix the jacket. It only made his shallow flirtations all the harder to endure. Edward and I saw him out the front door.

"You sure I can't convince you to come with me, my pretty mot?" He asked, taking my hand and kissing the back of it like an old fashioned gentlemen.

"Quite." I replied.

"Oh well," Garret shrugged. "Worth a try." Edward laughed at something in Garret's mind a moment later. I looked at him to be included but he just shook his head at me.

"Take care, tell Carlisle I'll be back eventually. I give him another sixty years at the most! Pea-brain food won't keep you forever." With that he was gone. No sentimentality. The trees of the forest rustled slightly as he passed. Edward just chuckled to himself and shook his head.

"What a strange man," he said as we went back inside to resume our life.

"Does he always live like that?" I asked. "Moving from place to place?"

"Yes, according to Carlisle most of our kind does."

"Hmm." I frowned and sat on the couch, picking up my own book but not reading it. "I suppose we'll see him again eventually. It's hard to think what life will be like in decades without aging."

"I try not to," Edward muttered. I was about to go back to my book when he spoke again.

"Esme," he sounded uncharacteristically unsure, "there's something… I wanted to talk to you about."

"What? Edward," I got up and moved to stand beside him at the piano stool when he hesitated. "You know you can talk to me about anything."

"Yes, that's… part of it actually." He looked at me, debating his words for a long moment and I tried not expect anything. I truly didn't know where he was taking this conversation. "You know I think of Carlisle as my father."

Yes, I thought. Carlisle acts like a father. He's taught us both so much about this life, it's natural to see him that way. Edward nodded.

"You don't though."

Maybe I should. I was sure he thought of me that way, as a daughter or younger friend. But I had a father. Carlisle and my relationship with him is very different.

"I was never close to my human father. He was a very distant and serious person. I don't think…No, I know he didn't care for me personally the same way Carlisle does. Even in my human life I was very attuned to other's thoughts. To my father I was an extension of himself, meant to continue his work and legacy, not really my own person. Carlisle has never seen me that way, even when he taught me about the way he lives his life."

I think I understand what you mean, I thought, thinking of my own mother and her obsession with my marriage prospects.

"Yes, I think you do. But… my mother was…"

She cared very much about you. Carlisle said she was the one who asked him to change you. She wanted to save your life in any way she could. If I given the chance I would have asked the same for my little boy. I shuddered to remember Carlisle's description of the immortal children but I knew I would have asked anyway. Edward shuddered with me.

"She taught me to play," he said, running his fingers over the keys of his instrument, "and when my father thought it time for me to quit music for real studies she persuaded him to let me continue. She knew how much I loved it."

She sounds wonderful, I thought with a note of jealousy I couldn't restrain. I wondered if my son, if he had survived, would ever have spoken of me so highly.

"I think he would have. You make a great mother," Edward said softly.

Yes I think I would have.

"I think you do."

His words shocked me. I didn't understand them for a long moment but as he explained they became so obviously clear to me I don't know why I didn't see it before.

"No one can take my human mother's place but since Carlisle brought you into my life you filled a role that she left. I—I don't think I was quite ready to see it at first. It's strange to realize that I can love you both."

I realized his words went both ways. Edward was not my Lyle, the child of my own blood, but he was dear to me as a son. I had taken him into that role without knowing or being ready to acknowledge it. Now I saw that I did love them both separately but just as strongly as the other.

You would want me as your mother? I asked him, a lump in my throat.

"Yes. If you would have me for a son."

"Of course, Edward, of course." I threw my arms around him, very careful to be gentle (my strength hadn't faded that much yet). He wrapped his arms around my waist and hugged me back. I'm so glad I get this chance to be here with you and Carlisle. I never thought I could have this even before Lyle and Charles. It's so much more than I thought it would be.

"Trust me, we didn't know how much better our lives would be until you came into them."

I wondered how much Carlisle would agree with that. I decided that for now it was ok just to be Edward's adopted mother, to see Carlisle every day and know I was wanted, really wanted, somewhere.

Author's Note: Well that was fun. I kind of love Garret. He's cocky and doesn't seem to have any qualms about what he is, adventure driven and capricious. I also think Kate, who can put him on his ass when he deserves it, is the perfect match for him. -Ember