16. The Truth

I scanned the oncoming crowd anxiously, hiding behind my new pair of sunglasses. Where was she? If all had gone according to plan, she had left Forks Saturday afternoon. It was now Sunday morning, approximately six hours-- half a day-- since she'd started out. "Come on, Rose," I murmured, eyeing the security guards in blue shirts and black pants swarming all throughout the airport. If she didn't arrive soon, I would have to manage on my own, and hope she either found another flight or went home.

With my fake I.D., which I was loathe to pull out unless on the most dire occasions, I had secured a 10:45 flight for two to Dublin. We could run to Waterford from there. I tapped my phone nervously on my leg, a habit I had picked up from Doctor Evans years ago. Calming myself was like pulling teeth, but I finally sat, folding my hands around the phone and trying not to look so guilty. In all my days, I had never been wanted by the police, not even for a speeding ticket.

And in truth, I hadn't done anything wrong, nothing that warranted a man-hunt through half the country.

It had all started with Siobhan's phone call. A month before Friday of this week, that fateful day, my dear friend Siobhan, leader of an Irish coven, called me with unsettling news. She'd told me there was a rumor among the other Irish vampires that one of them had created some kind of abomination, something the Volturi would be sure to notice. One nomad had even gone so far to claim he had seen a small creature that resembled a vampire wandering the edge of France, snapping trees in two and singing nursery rhymes.

Everyone feared the impossible, Siobhan had confided to me: everyone feared an immortal child had been born.

At first I was skeptical, unwilling to accept such a hazy rumor, and I said nothing of it to my family. But Siobhan continued to call me, worrying me further with the news that the 'small vampire' was moving closer to Ireland, and now it was being guided by an older vampire, a woman. I had still inisted on some solid proof-- which I got in less than three days.

Two of my former companions, Charles and Makenna, had come, with a great inconvenience to themselves, to ask for my help in the matter that was quickly affecting vampires all over Europe. Their story was that they had actually seen the child, and were positive it was immortal and lethal to everyone. Why the Volturi hadn't caught wind of this yet was baffling to me, but I could never guess what went on in Aro's complex mind. I would have given my help regardless of the issue, of course, but once I realized how serious, how dangerous, the matter was, I hadn't needed any more prompting to know my course of action. Hesitantly, I had agreed to come to Europe, but I asked to be allowed some time to set my affairs straight.

My family was yet in the dark about the alleged terror, so I decided to keep it that way. After all, if it was just a rumor, why needlessly bother them? I set my departure time for two weeks later, with evey intention of telling Esme when I was leaving and when I planned to return. Alice didn't have any visions pertaining my to departure, oddly enough, and Edward couldn't discern anything from my confused and doubtful thoughts. I went to work evey day, spent my nights as usual, and no one was the wiser about my half-baked plans-- except for Rosalie.

I don't know how, but the Delta Airline page I had been using for flight scheduling was open when Rose had sat down to use the computer. She had called me, furious, demanding to know why none of the others were aware of my plans. There was nothing I could do but explain the whole thing and beg Rosalie to keep quiet about it. I told her I didn't want Esme to fret uselessly, and I forbid her to let Emmett know. At last she consented to silence, and even wanted to know if she could help at all. Because there was no reason to hide anything from her now, I had instructed her to take Alice's mind away from any thoughts she might have about me, and to find a way to distract Edward as well. Reluctantly, she had agreed to deceive her family. We both worked toward the scheduled time.

Then Siobhan had called me a week later, a tense note in her voice, to implore me to head for Ireland as soon as I could. The creature had been undeniably identified as an immortal child, or something as awful, for it and its vampire keeper had murdered nine humans all in one hunt, utterly mangling the bodies. Three other vampires had witnessed the massacre. Siobhan was afraid for the reputation of the entire island; what if the Volturi just started from one end of the island to the other, cleaning out every coven and nomad until they reached the right ones? What if the policy 'guilty by association' held true?

In indecision, I shortened my preparation to one week, swearing to Siobhan I would start for Ireland by the next Friday. Unhappily, she said if that was the quickest I could come, it would do. I didn't tell Rose of my new schedule, hoping against hope things would turn out all right before I had to interfere. That was not to be, it seemed, because Siobhan called me again a day after her last warning with grim news.

Not only was there an immortal child, but the woman with it was horribly devoted to it; in fact, the vampire had killed a couple nomads that had tried to destroy it. The woman was holed up with the creature in a cave perilously close to Siobhan's coven, tearing apart anyone who came too close. To make matters worse, the woman had a mate, and he hadn't been seen for days. Siobhan was terrified the mate was off making more newborns, or had gone to the Volturi. "You, of all people, might be able to talk some sense into that wild woman, Carlisle," she'd said.

From the sound of it, I thought, I couldn't make the woman see sense unless I pounded it into her skull.

Charles and Makenna came back that same day, even while I was hanging up with Siobhan, to say I had better not come to Ireland, not unless I wanted to die. "Why?" I'd asked, appalled.

Sharing an uneasy look, the two nomads had turned back to me. Charles spoke. "When one of the other covens passing through got close enough for conversation, the woman with the creature challenged them to bring you to her."

For a moment I had sat in shocked silence. "What?"

"Do you know any french vampires, Carlisle?"

"No, not really. Not well."

"The woman is french, so they say, and she specifically asked for you."

"For--"

"For you, Carlisle," Charles had emphasized. "Not for an American, not for a Cullen. For Carlisle Cullen. 'Bring Carlisle Cullen to me, and then I will talk to you', were her exact words."

"But, I have no idea who she could be!" I had searched in my mind for any stray thoughts of french vampires I had once known. None came to mind.

"At any rate, she knows you, and she demands that you come speak to her."

I had nodded, still numb from the odd request.

"Don't go, Carlisle. That woman's insane," Charles had said darkly. "Four more of us have tried to overwhelm her, and she pulled them limb from limb. She set fire to the corpses and her creature danced around their ashes, laughing. She's not killing them to protect it, Carlisle-- she's killing them to amuse it."

I had shuddered. "How can that be true?"

"She's lost her mind! Anyone who makes one of those horrors is crazy! And now she's letting it loose on humans without covering up evidence or anything of the sort."

"Then they'll be caught, they'll be discovered!" I just couldn't believe someone could be so careless, and callous.

"Yes, and they'll take the rest of us with them. The woman is clever, too, though. She's escaped whole covens more than once, and now her creature is killing us as well. It murdered an Italian visitor that stole its prey, as efficiently as a full-grown vampire. It's deadly, Carlisle." Charles had nodded at his mate. "Makenna and I have decided to remain here until the threat passes. You should as well."

"But it won't pass," I said, "not until someone stops them!"

"And who will? No one has, so far. It's been over a month, and that thing is still loose."

"Where are--"

"The last thing we need is for the Volturi to arrive," Charles interrupted me. "They will work their justice on all of us for not stopping those two. The whole matter has gotten out of hand, and there's nothing you can do, now."

I listened to Charles's warnings in silence. How could I refuse Siobhan? Even though it appeared as if this woman would stop at nothing to protect her creation--and she apparently had a bone to pick with me--how could I say no to a friend in need?

"I must go," I told them, feeling a weight settle on my shoulders.

"Then you'll die."

"I realize that." I had grown rather impatient with Charles's doom-and-gloom attitude. "But Siobhan needs my help."

I had realized that whatever this woman wanted from me, I couldn't counted on returning to my home. If this woman was slaying whole covens single-handedly, what chance did I, barely a fighter with virtually no aggression, have to withstand her fury? And how could a woman I'd never met even know I existed? I didn't owe anything to the irish vampires, so why should I risk being entangled in some kind of vendetta? However, if I was somehow causing the senseless killings in Ireland, I had to finish them, too, didn't I?

In a frenzy, I had sat down where I stood and began scribbling away, penning letters to my family. They were unimportant letters, except for the one I would leave as a farewell, but they were the only goodbye I could give them. For two hours I wrote, cramped into my Mercedes with two friends outside, waiting for me to make the next move. Every semi-meaningful instance I'd spent with one of my family members was written down.

I called Rosalie, ordering her to come to the hospital parking lot and take the letters for me. She was almost unable to come because of school, but somehow she found time between classes and parked at the hopsital in less than ten minutes. Charles and Makenna had hidden at my suggestion, so Rose wouldn't become suspicious of my intentions. I didn't tell her what was written on the pieces of printer paper, folded neatly in her hands, and I did my best to keep a smooth face as I told her goodbye.

But she had stopped at the door to her M3. "Carlisle--" she paused. "Are you holding out on me?"

"What do you mean, Rose?"

"You're not keeping something from me, are you? I can help you."

"No, Rose." It had taken a lot not to wince. "I'll see you when I come home."

"All right."

I'd had to bite my lip not to call out after her as she left.

Charles and Makenna couldn't restrain their hunting instincts for long, so they promised to wait for me on the outskirts of Seattle, and from there they would see me as far as the Midwest. Then they would find a place to hide for the time being while I went on to Ireland. Or, possibly more accurate, while I went on to die.

The rest of that week was torture, having to act natural when I knew I could be spending my last few hours with the ones I loved. Every tiny movement Esme made sent me into deeper depsair, but I played my part well, and so did Rosalie. Wednesday, then Thursday flew by, and I was suddenly left with no more time. I had no more time to hold Esme's hand, or watch Edward and Bella pour over their high school homework. There was no more time to recount moments from the 1870's with Jasper, or to play Emmett at chess. Alice would never have an opportunity to buy me the new set of white coats she thought I so desperately needed.

Thursday night, I slipped a note to Rosalie which gave all the information about the schedule change and what she should do to throw my family off my trail. The last thing I wanted was for Edward or Jasper to follow me and be murdered by a madwoman. I had originally designed to keep Rosalie safe too, but had to admit that she would need to accompany me; Edward would read my destination out of her mind as soon as I was gone. Across the length of the kitchen table, Rose read the note with wide eyes. She'd shot me one subtle, heartbroken look, then barely dipped her head. I had nodded infinitesimally back-- and our plan was in motion.

Friday morning had dawned pale and misty, doing nothing to raise my spirits as I headed for my last shift at the hospital. I hadn't taken anything from the house with me that I didn't normally take, to continue the charade. The only sign that I was leaving for good was the way I had kissed Esme, but it hadn't been obvious enough for her to notice. I had simply kissed her as if I wished I didn't have to go to work, not as if I didn't want to die.

From then on the day passed according to plan: At precisely 11:30 I lied to Dr. Snow about receiving an emergency phone call from a family member, told him I would not be back for at least three weeks, walked out to my car, deposited my white coat in the trunk, and waited. Rosalie had joined me and did as she was told to begin the red herring. I had proceeded to Seattle on foot, met up with Charles and Makenna, and ran for all I was worth with them towards Oklahoma. But not before I had added the final touch to my deception: in order to blend in more with the vampires I was about to encounter, I purchased a good stock of cosmetic contacts which, due to my strange amber eyes, colored my irises blood red.

We made it to Tulsa without any problems, but just as I was preparing to leave for Atlanta, my friends made a vital mistake. Misjuding the distance from Tulsa to another small town, they hunted too close to the populated city and caused a raucous. The human police had begun an extensive search for us, calling in special forces with canine units to track down the killers. I had stayed behind to confuse the humans while Charles and Makenna fled, but ended up waiting too long to move and nearly being trapped.

A university with a medicine program, complete with cadavers, had saved me as the police tracked me through Tulsa. Although it had been a close call, I outran the authorities, bought a new car to travel more conventionally, and attempted to make up lost time by driving without stopping until I reached Atlanta.

Now here I waited, growing more uneasy by the minute, searching the flood of humans for any sign of my daughter. Our plan was not watertight, and I feared that somewhere along the way, I had miscalculated. Was Rose all right? Was she seconds from the airport, or even copying my action of looking through the crowd? Did I even want her to succeed in finding me?

But, I could see, even as I wondered, the unmistakable crown of golden hair coming towards me, and Rose's face came into view, as beautiful as ever. She was carrying the bag full of neccessities she was certain we would need, like more cash for a flight back to America and forged passports, along with travel-sized bottles of shampoo that currently contained an extremely powerful fuel accelerant, one we couldn't buy in Ireland.

"Rose?" I said, taking in her grieved countenance. "How are you holding up?"

"We never got to say goodbye," she replied evenly. "After Emmett and I--" she cut off, staring down at the floor.

I put my arm around her and guided her to our terminal. " I'm so sorry it had to be with this way. You know I would have preferred a different route for us, but..." I struggled for words. "I didn't want them to follow us, Rose. They can't follow us, or they would all die."

"I don't want them to follow us," she answered back, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "I want to go back to them."