Disclaimer: Obviously, Twilight is not mine - 1) I wouldn't be writing fanfiction if it were, 2) I couldn't possibly dream of a guy as perfect as Edward Cullen, no matter how hard I tried and I wouldn't want to share him! All honours to Stephenie Meyer, please...


Do you guys have any idea how much I love you??

The reviews and the comments and everything in between that I have been getting are absolutely incredible! As a reward for being such awesome, fantastic and exalted supporters, I've gone all out--ok, well maybe not "all out" 'cause that would spoil the story--but I have gone beyond the norm...just for you guys...

This installment is more than twice the length of the first three chapters AND it is my favourite to date (the last chapter I hated--but you guys seemed to enjoy it, so...) HOWEVER, I regret that due to the length we will only flow with one character--we'll catch up with the other next time...

I'd also just like to point out that, since I'm Australian and have never been to Chicago, my knowledge of the city before I wrote this chapter was, like, non-existant, zziippppp...so I did a little research and anything wrong can be blamed on the internet ;P

So...go have a read, tell me what you think...


Part IV - ...so I was thinking maybe I would go to Italy and do something to provoke the Volturi...

It made me angry. He had told me he didn't love me, that he didn't want me. And now…now he looks at me like that, like he had never uttered those words. The very same words that had left me alone, that had taken the very reason I had ever wanted this life so that when I finally got it, there was no reason to it all.

Hadn't Alice seen this? Hadn't she seen that I would become a vampire?

I wanted to talk to Alice…I had a day of shopping to get ready for.

BPOV

I glanced up from my book when I heard another car enter the underground car park. But as it drove down the row, I lost interest. The windows weren't tinted and I could see the middle-aged woman behind the wheel. I sighed and settled back down into the seat of my car. I had arrived at the mall by eight, eager for the chance to see Alice again. Obviously, I was a bit early. I sighed again and went back to my book, the sharp clip-clop of the woman's heels echoing through the near-empty car park and resonating in my ears. I never understood why some women wore high-heeled shoes to a job where they would spend some good seven to eight hours on their feet.

Nine o'clock crept around slowly and the car park began to fill. I forgot about my book as I watched the customers get out of their cars, paying special attention to anyone with tinted windows and a high-end car. As I watched, I tried not thinking of what I was here to do. I failed miserably. What was I going to say to her? A million different scenarios ran through my head. Should I just walk up to her, like nothing had happened? Hey Alice, how are you? Should I go in and pretend that our meeting was all a coincidence? Oh wow, Alice. Fancy seeing you here! What've you been up to? Or should I just follow her and wait until she notices me? I snorted at myself. Would she even notice me? I don't know if she'd be able to, with my…gift. Was it something I could only do consciously? Or did it keep me blocked if a person was unaware of me, even when I wasn't thinking about it? I shook my head. I had no idea. Besides, she might not even want to talk to me. I shied away from that thought.

A black car pulled into a park in front of the parking lot's wall, close to the automatic doors. An Audi A4 with black-tinted windows—so black, I'm pretty sure it was illegal. Not even mine were that dark.

I held my breath as I watched three doors open.

It was absurd. I realised as I watched them get out of the car that I had somehow, for some reason, expected to see some sort of change in their appearance. I shook my head in disbelief at my own idiocy as I watched Rosalie step out from behind the driver's wheel, as Esme got out of the front seat and Alice shut her door on the passenger side. Of course there was no change. I was the one who had changed since I last saw them. They were as gorgeous as ever.

Alice was looking around, a hopeful expression on her pixie-like face that I had missed so much. It took her less than half a second to look around the car park. I saw her face fall ever so slightly.

She was looking for me.

She knew I was going to come and see her, and she wanted to see me. I could've laughed with happiness. I could've—if I wasn't frozen in my seat.

My reaction was absolutely ridiculous—now that I knew that she was happy to see me, anyway. But I hadn't expected anyone else to be with her, least of all Rosalie. I knew Rosalie hadn't liked me when I was human. What would she be like now? And Esme. I missed Esme, too, but what would she think of me? I had been too focused on Edward to notice them or their reactions yesterday evening, so I couldn't even use that slight encounter as a point of reference.

They went through the glass doors and stepped onto the escalators and I watched them while they were slowly carried out of my line of sight. They hadn't said one word to one another.

And I hadn't moved an inch.

"You made a decision," I muttered to myself. "Now see it through."

But I still didn't move. If I couldn't do this, how could I ever face him? I shook my head. I had nothing to be afraid of. I would see how they react and then…Well, it all depended on the reactions I got. So I had to go get them.

Letting out a gusty sigh, I got out and followed them. I wandered past the cheaper shops, following their scents, until I stood in front of a shoe shop. I glanced up at the label mounted over the doorway. Designer, of course. That alone made me not want to go in.

I glanced back down and looked straight into another pair of butterscotch eyes.

I had to say something. I sucked in a deep breath and let out a timid smile.

"Hi, Esme," I whispered.

She smiled when I said her name and moved swiftly, by human standards, to embrace me. I wrapped my arms around her, and I was dimly, and somewhat stupidly, surprised to feel that she wasn't as hard as I remembered her. Of course she wouldn't feel as hard now that my own flesh was like marble.

"Oh Bella!" she whispered back.

Acceptance.

I would've cried, if I could've—I wanted to cry. The second she embraced me, I realised, I really realised, just how alone I had felt over the last eight decades. And how much I had hated it. I had never felt that I belonged anywhere, I had never found a niche that had comfortably accepted me while I was human. Until I met Edward. The memories of just how eager I had been to join this…this incredible family of vampires were so much stronger, so much more painful, as the woman I had already accepted as my surrogate mother held me.

I hid my face in her shoulder and a dry sob forced its way out. She stroked my hair and made soothing noises any mother would make to calm her upset child, holding onto me tight. I was so exceptionally grateful, in that moment, that Esme had never managed to get over her mothering instincts.

I did eventually remember we were standing dead centre in the middle of the shop's entrance. No one said anything as they skirted around us on their way in and out of the shop—whether because we made such a pathetic picture or because of their natural aversion to us I didn't know, or really care. Feeling Esme's arms around me, hearing her voice and smelling her scent were factors that made sure I was locked securely in reality—that she was really here, that I was really here, and somewhere in this city he was really here.

I pulled away and Esme took my face in both of her hands and examined me closely. I felt nervous for some reason I couldn't really explain. A sad smile crossed her face and she sighed.

"Oh, you poor thing." She shook her head and sighed again. "All these years…we had no idea."

Would they have come back? Would he have let them?

"It's not your fault, Esme," I tried to console her.

"No. It's mine."

Alice stood behind Esme, her large golden eyes filled with so many emotions I had no idea what she was feeling. But then she threw herself at me, pulling me down into a tight hug.

"Oh Bella! I've missed you so much! How did this happen? Why didn't I see this? Why didn't I see you? I should have seen this! I would've come back."

"We would've come back," Esme corrected gently.

"We need to move," Rosalie said, coming out of the shop with three bags on her arms. "We're creating congestion." She looked at me and I was surprised by the sad smile on her face. "Hello, Bella."

My smile was timid as I tried to hide my surprise that she had spoken to me without being prompted. "Hi, Rosalie."

Alice was staring at me. I looked back at her and her eyebrows snapped into a frown.

"I told him," she muttered, taking my hand and leading us away from the shop. "I told him, but would he listen? Oh no! Not Edward!" Her voice was too quiet and too fast for the humans passing us to hear. She glanced back at me. "I told him this would happen, but he didn't believe me. 'Bella promised.'" I froze in shock, the pain from earlier glancing through my torso. Even though I hadn't heard his voice in decades, I hadn't forgotten it. Her voice imitated his so perfectly. She pulled me along impatiently, Esme and Rosalie following silently behind us.

"This was hardly a conscious choice at the time, Alice," I muttered.

She only shook her head and led us into a coffee shop, making her way to the back and sitting down in dark booth, dragging me in beside her. Why we were in a coffee shop, I had no idea, but at least it was secluded. Esme went up to the cash register with Rosalie and I heard her order four tall cappuccinos and four scones with jam and cream. When she came to sit, she placed a metal stand with a laminated piece of paper with 6 written on it in the centre of the table. She and Rosalie sat opposite us.

"He was a fool to think you could survive alone," Alice said, shaking her said.

"I have survived," I pointed out. "And I have survived alone." They all flinched—even Rosalie. I instantly felt guilty. I hadn't meant for it to sound so harsh. But before I could say something to take the sting out of the words, Alice had caught me up in another hug.

"I'm so sorry, Bella," she whispered brokenly. "I should've seen…" She shook her head against my shoulder. "I don't understand why…" She sat up and frowned at me again. "How," she demanded. I blinked, trying to catch up with the sudden mood swing. "How did this happen, since I didn't see it. You should be dead."

I flinched. "You saw me dead?"

She opened her mouth and then paused. She thought for a moment before her porcelain brow puckered. In the momentary silence, a server brought over our coffees and scones. With a smile, Esme and I helped him unload his tray, and then he left, taking the number stand with him. I moved my coffee away from me so it wouldn't offend my delicate nostrils. Coffee stank so much worse as a vampire.

"Hmpft," Alice puffed. "I…I didn't. But I saw…well I didn't see anything." She eyed me with a raised eyebrow. "I saw Laurent feeding on you"—I flinched—"and it all went dark. I guess I just assumed that meant you were dead."

"Did you see the werewolves?" I asked softly, wrapping my hands around my mug, enjoying the warmth. But it went cold quick. I crossed my arms and put my elbows on the table, as I looked sideways at her. The three of them gawked at me, but Alice was the first to recover, blinking rapidly.

"No," she muttered.

"Werewolves?" Esme asked.

I nodded. "That's what I figure they were. I vaguely remember being told some sort of tribal legend involving the 'cold-ones' and werewolves. I figured, vampires are real, why not werewolves? Besides, it's what my instincts were saying."

"Tell me everything," Alice whispered.

I shrugged this time. "I don't remember much, just that…" I hesitated, not wanting to tell them how much worse the pain I had been in before Laurent had bitten me had been. "I was in pain." That would do—it was true and didn't tell them just how much pain Edward's leaving had caused. "I remember Laurent biting me and feeling…" I shook my head, unable—or unwilling—to describe the painful sensation of having my blood sucked out of me. "Then I was on the ground and I could see five massive wolves. At the time I think I thought they were bears." I frowned, trying to remember, but it was one of those human memories that fade. "There was something about bears at the time," I muttered, even though they probably didn't understand. I shrugged. "Then they were gone and the pain got worse. When they came back…"

"They came back?" Alice hissed.

As I nodded, Esme said, "They would've known what was happening to you. They would've killed you."

"Probably," I agreed. "But they didn't find me." I saw the shock on all their faces and I held out my palms. "I don't know how," I told them quietly, before they could ask. "I just closed my eyes and…hoped that they wouldn't find me. I did the same sort of thing last night to…to get away from Edward," I finished in a rush.

The silence between us was broken only by the sounds of the coffee grinder and humans placing their orders and doing their shopping.

"You haven't spoken to Edward?" Alice asked softly.

I looked down at my hands, shaking my head, not trusting my voice to try and speak.

"He is going to be so pissed off," Rosalie muttered.

I looked up at her, finally comprehending. "You haven't seen him yet?"

It was Esme that answered. "He hadn't come home by the time we left. Alice had a vision and said we had to go shopping. Retail therapy, she told us," she said with a fond smile. "We didn't know we'd see you here."

"Like I said," Rosalie sighed. "He's going to be so pissed off because he didn't get to talk to her first."

"Bella sought us out, not the other way around," Alice said to her. "He can't get cranky at us for that."

"And when he learns you had a vision about meeting her today and didn't call him?" Rosalie countered. "Will he not get mad for that?"

"If I called him, Bella would've left. He just needs to think about it rationally."

"Girls," Esme admonished softly. She looked at me. "How did you get away?" she asked.

I shrugged again. "I don't know how it works," I whispered, looking down at my hands again. "All I know is; I close my eyes, think something along the lines of don't find me or let me get away…and I can." I shrugged again. "I haven't had much chance to explore and experiment. I just figure that, whatever it is I do, it hides me from whatever or whoever I don't want to find me." I took a deep breath. "I was actually hoping that Carlisle might be able to tell me…help me figure it out."

"Oh, honey," Esme said quietly, reaching over to take my hand, reading correctly into my hesitation. "You know he'd love to."

"Wait a minute," Rosalie said. "So…you can, like…vanish?"

I gave me head a little wiggle that wasn't really a shake as I shrugged. "I don't know," I repeated. "I think it's more that I just —I don't know—sort of…block myself to physical senses—like sight, smell…hearing. But I-I don't know."

Rosalie made a noise that seemed too delicate to be called a snort but couldn't really be called anything else. "Well, whatever you do, it sounds mighty handy."

"Wait." This time it was Alice. "Do you think that might be why I could never see you? I looked so many times, hoping that maybe…I never saw anything until this morning."

"I honestly don't know," I said. "I don't understand how it works. I mean, with the werewolves…Laurent had only just bitten me and I was already able to hide myself. I was under the impression that these gifts, or whatever they are, don't really develop until after the transformation."

We were all silent as we thought about it.

"Well, I was seeing visions while I was a human, so I can't help you there," Alice muttered, pushing her scone around its plate. "Jasper never mentioned exactly when he started manipulating emotions and Edward's never said…" She stopped and looked at me, noticing how rigid I went at the sound of his name. "You need to speak to him, Bella."

I knew that. It didn't make it any easier though.

"I don't think I can," I admitted quietly.

"Why not?"

I laughed once and it had a hysterical edge to it. "Look at me, Alice! This is something he never wanted. He didn't want me around for eternity back then, and he doesn't now."

"You're wrong." All three of them said it together, looking at me.

I shook my head at them. "He left."

"He left because he loved you—he still loves you," Esme said, squeezing my hand. I could only shake my head.

Esme sighed and looked at Alice. Rosalie shook her head, muttering something so low that even I couldn't hear it. Alice turned in her seat so she could look straight at me.

"Bella, do you want to know what he tried to do after he learnt what I had seen—or thought I'd seen?" she corrected with a momentary frown. I had a feeling that it didn't really matter whether or not I wanted to know—she as going to tell me anyway.

"He went to Italy," she continued, proving me right. But it only took me half a second to comprehend.

I could remember that day so clearly it was painful—the fateful day of my eighteenth birthday. We had been in the lounge room at Charlie's, watching Romeo and Juliet. His words when he spoke of his envy for the ease of Romeo's suicide—something he believed he would have to go to Italy to do. He had said he would go to Italy and do something to provoke the Volturi, because you don't irritate the Volturi.

Not unless you want to die.

I remember feeling furious when I heard those words. I was furious now.

"NO!" I shrieked, making everyone in the shop jump. I heard the sudden pounding of hearts and the muttered questions and comments on the behaviour of today's youth. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to get a grip on myself. "No," I said quietly. "He couldn't've. He couldn't've done that." I was shaking my head, refusing to believe what Alice was obviously trying to tell me.

"He did, Bella, and…"

"So he went for a holiday," I stupidly insisted. "I hope he had fun." I just didn't want to believe that he had attempted suicide. Not Edward. Not my Edward. I couldn't comprehend what would drive him to try it, but I didn't really care what his motivation was. I just didn't want to hear that he had tried it.

Rosalie's voice was hard as she said, "It was far from a holiday, Bella. We spent weeks trying to convince him not to do it. And we nearly failed so many times."

I shook my head but my resistance was failing. "But he…he left," I wailed softly. "He didn't want me."

"He lied," Alice said softly, reaching up to stroke my hair as I dropped my head onto my arms. Pain lanced through me, so strong and so painful, that my body shuddered. How long had I wanted to hear that? How long had I been trying to convince myself that it was true—that he had left because he wanted to keep me safe, to protect me. It was exactly what Alice was saying now, as she bent down closer to me, making sure I heard what she said.

"After Jasper tried to attack you on your birthday, Edward decided it was too dangerous for you to be around us. And as much as we hated to admit it, he had a point. But it was his decision and as much as it almost killed him, Bella, he was determined that you would live safe and happy, without the constant threat from him or us. He didn't want to but he was convinced it was the only way you would be safe. He lied and he left to keep you safe."

I didn't think I was an angry person. I very rarely showed anger and I don't think I had ever shown Alice any real anger. But my head snapped up now and I glared at her furiously.

"To what point and purpose?" I hissed. "He knew this would happen. He knew what I would become. You told him, as you've already pointed out. He knew the luck I had with all things dangerous. 'Safe' was an entirely foreign concept unless he was around. And 'happy'? I lost count of the amount of times I told him I needed him to be complete. No, Alice. He simply didn't want me." My voice cracked on the last word and I had to look away, my anger dissipating as abruptly as it had appeared.

"That's not true, Bella," Esme insisted gently. "He needs you, he always has…"

I shook my head and slid out of the booth. I couldn't listen to more of this. Alice grabbed at my arm.

"Bella, no, please don't go."

It was hard to resist the pleading in her voice and I deliberately avoided her eyes as I pulled my arm back. If my human memories were anything to remember, I'd fail miserably at leaving if I did.

"I'm going," I stated. "I can't…" I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I just…I need to think. I'm sorry."

I turned my back and hurried out of the shop and back to my car. I drove out of the city and headed west on the I-290. Their words were mingling through my head soothing doubts and raising just as many in an ever-moving circle. I kept remembering back to the afternoon in the forest when I had believed he had walked away from me forever.

I had to slow when I got to the tollbooth to get on to the I-88, and I was frustrated at the crawling pace of the cars in front of me. I shot through and settled down in my seat for the sixty-mile drive.

I didn't really want to think about anything, so I turned up the radio, only to grimace when I heard the painful sounds of Lucinda Carvey blaring out of my speakers. I quickly pressed the CD button. I couldn't understand what people saw in the woman's music—I think it was more the costumes (or lack thereof) she wore in her music clips.

The CD loaded and then Fully Alive by Flyleaf was blaring out of my speakers instead. I sighed and sat back. Flyleaf had to be one of my favourite bands that I still remembered from my human life. I had rediscovered them after my change, when I could finally start listening to music again, and I found that their first album was oddly fitting to the way I was feeling at the time. It seemed appropriate that it should play now.

I turned off the I-88 and onto I-39, heading north for another seven miles. I suddenly realised where I was heading. There was a little forest reserve between Oregon and Daysville, right on the river, where I liked to hunt. And oddly enough, hunting was exactly what I felt like doing right about now. It would let me escape from having to think about the inevitable for the next few hours—though why I was delaying it, I didn't know.

I turned right onto the one-oh-four for another mile then turned south onto Daysville Road. I parked in a secluded area before taking off my jacket. I hadn't really dressed for hunting, so I made a mental note to carry an extra set of clothes in my trunk as I took off my shoes.

I got out of my car and stretched, trying to dispel the emotional exhaustion. I turned my face to the breeze and inhaled deeply, letting the fresh air flush out the scent of humans, then headed into the forest.

I wandered, slowly letting go of the restraints I held around humans. I let my rational mind go, succumbing to the demon in me that demanded blood. Scents bombarded my nostrils and my eyes narrowed, my body lowering itself into a crouch. I put my hands on the ground, pawing it like a lion, feeling the subtle movements of the earth's foundations. My ears picked out the tiny scratchings of an army of ants at the base of a tree five feet away; the pounding heartbeat of a possum clambering upside down along a tree branch high above my head; the heavy wing beats of a falcon hiding high in the sky.

There was a herd of deer two miles to the south.

I took off, darting through the trees, jumping over bushes. I circled around them, watching as the grazed peacefully. It was too easy when they don't expect it. I snarled, watching with satisfaction as their heads shot up and they darted off, braying as they went, their heartbeats going wild. I snarled again in anticipation. Then I was chasing them. I closed in on one, a doe, running around in front of it. It screamed in terror, skidding around and bolting back the way it had came. I pounced, snapping it's neck and sinking my teeth through it's felt as it collapsed.

I finished with a relish, lifting my head and gasping for air I didn't need. I licked my lips clean, looking around, already trying to find more prey. I sniffed, ignoring the scent of the doe at my feet. I caught the scent of something feline. I sniffed again and smiled, turning to head west, toward the river.

A lynx was lapping gently from the river, in a small pocket that dug into the main land, where humans wouldn't see. When it finished drinking, it moved up the river, climbing a steep slope to where a rocky ledge jutted out over the water, bathed in sunlight. That didn't bother me. There were no humans around for miles. I crept forward, still masked by the trees. But as I moved, it's head turned sharply and looked into the trees. It hissed, crouching down, ready to pounce.

I shot out of the trees, snarling. Simultaneously, something pounced out of the trees on my left, also aiming for the lynx, as the lynx pounced forward. There was snarling and hissing as we all collided, tumbling off the ledge and falling into the shallow water. My survival instincts were in complete control as I snarled and snapped by teeth, rolling as I tried to dislodge the predator that was pinning me down. The responding, snarling growl was nothing like the Lynx. I thrashed some more, spraying water everywhere as I rolled again, successfully pinning my attacker beneath me. I snarled and bared my teeth with every intention of dislodging its head from its body. But even as I bent down, I froze.

That scent.

Next thing I knew, I was on my back, pinned again beneath my attacker's body. But I was limp with shock and didn't put up any resistance. I stared up at him, eyes wide, mind blank, but very conscious of his position.

Edward's eyes were wild from the hunt, a bright golden-brown, rainbows dancing off his skin. He stared down at me and I saw the moment that the blood-craze faded and he recognised who had pinned beneath him. A different sort of excitement brightened his eyes then, and his mouth crashed down on mine.

At first I wanted to object—I hadn't had long enough to look at him—but then I forgot all about looking at him.

It was odd—even though I no longer needed it, my breath hitched and I let out a wild gasp. It was like the first time that he had ever kissed me, all those decades ago. One set of fingers knotted in his hair, clutching him to me. The other set of fingers was twining through his as he slid the hand he had clamped on my wrist up so that our hands were palm-to-palm. I was electrically aware of him, of everywhere our bodies were touching…which pretty much was everywhere. I felt a faint sensation of heat, rapidly building. I felt dizzy.

His tongue, nowhere near as cold as I seemed to remember, traced my lips and I couldn't stop myself from opening my mouth in response. A shudder tore through me as our tongues finally met. I heard him growl.

I realised, rather abruptly, what I was doing. I was lying on a rocky shore, my body half submerged and soaking wet, kissing my vampire sweetheart, whom I hadn't seen in eighty years. So what did I do?

I panicked.

Again.

I kicked him off me, sending him tumbling unexpectedly into deeper waters. For a terrifying moment, I worried I might have hurt him, but then he was crouched again, eyes locked on me, and I knew he was fine. And about to pounce.

I turned and shot back into the cover of the trees, closing my eyes and thinking hard. I stood completely motionless against a tree, barely four feet from where he now stood; glaring into the forest, dripping wet and looking like a god. He took another step forward and his smell swamped me anew—it was all I could do not to give in and throw myself at him.

He half-turned, staring back out at the river, then looked back into the forest. After a moment, his predator stance relaxed and he sighed.

"How do you do that?" he asked quietly. I closed my eyes and let his voice wash over me. Not even Alice had done it justice, really—the velvet texture and the musical intonation that made up his, the most perfect of all voices, could not be duplicated.

It stung my heart to hear the sadness and the pain in that voice. I stared at his beautiful profile as he stared into the forest, inhaling deeply, trying to catch my scent. Was it possible that Alice had been telling the truth?

He sighed again, a heavy—dare I say it?—heartbroken sound. He shook his head and muttered to himself, "Nothing's going to taste good after that."

My heart almost pounded back to life then, I was sure. I wanted so badly to reach out and let him taste more, but I made myself stay still. He glanced back at the river then headed off into the forest, most likely heading home.

I wouldn't let myself collapse, like I might have done in the past. It was too great an experience to just let it get washed away by tears. Instead, I made a rather abrupt and definitely impulsive decision. Pushing away from my tree, I followed him.