Disclaimer: I do not own any copyright to these fantabulous books because I am not Stephenie Meyer.


I

AM

SO

SORRY!

Really guys, I had no intention of taking so long to update! I got sent down to Sydney because I got promoted and I had to go for a week and a half and I was only given two days notice. So I didn't have time to write a quick post to say why I was disappearing off the face of the earth and taking my updates with me. Since I don't currently have a laptop, I also had no means of accessing the net while I was down there. I'm sorry! But I'm back now, so it's all good, yeah?

BTW, while I was gone, this story was nominated (thankyou to anyone who nominated!) for Best WIP at the Twilight Awards website. Um...WOW...I am so stoked! I would love it if you guys could show a little extra love for the story by voting for it when voting starts on Monday at twilightawards(dot)this-paradise(dot)com. :)

Again, I'm so sorry for the wait! Thankyou for being so patient!

xoxox


Part VIII – Fair turn-about, mate for mate…

Sighing, and with a resigned smile, Bella tore the paper off in one smooth movement. Her face broke out into a real smile and she ran her fingers over the smooth glass as Alice finally let me see which picture she had chosen. It was one of the more formal ones; Bella standing in front of me as we stood at an angle to the camera…Still smiling, she set it on the corner of her desk…

Edward Cullen.

Reflex reaction. I looked up at the sound of my name being thought…opening my mind, trying to hear the voice again. A cacophony of voices bombarded me but I couldn't pick out the voice that had said my name.

EPOV

Esme had enlisted Emmett's help to demolish the wall standing between the two rooms she wanted to redecorate for Bella. The sounds of Emmett happily complying were a background track to Alice's mutterings as she rearranged my closet in an attempt to make room for Bella's things. There was an occasional gagging sound followed by an "Oh my god, Edward" when she found something she didn't like, throwing the garment out into an ever-growing pile. I was feeling far too…light-hearted…to do anything but laugh, letting her throw out anything she pleased. Even so, as the pile grew, I was beginning to wonder if I would have any clothes left by the time she finished.

When she was particularly offended by any piece of clothing, she came marching out with one hand on her hip, the other holding the culprit up for my inspection. Laughing, I would have to remind her that she was the one to buy most of my wardrobe—majority of what she no longer liked had been of her choosing. She'd tell me off for letting her buy it for me in the first place, toss it onto the pile and then disappear again.

I'd shake my head and turn back to the CDs, smiling. No point in trying to explain just how impossible it was to stop her when she wanted to buy something.

Bella had told the truth when she had said her CD collection could almost rival mine. Almost being the defining word. I had nineteen boxes sitting on the floor of my room; all of them packed with as many CDs as I could fit into them. I sat in front of my stereo system, sorting through them all, putting in CDs that were either new and looked interesting, or old but a favourite as I came across them.

It was comforting to know that we still shared the same taste in music—which was still very broad.

I had a box to my left for the CDs I already had and was sorting the others as I went on my right. The pile on my right was much bigger. Where I hadn't collected any CDs over the last eight decades, she had.

I was almost finished with the twelfth box when Alice sang out from somewhere in my wardrobe.

"Carlisle's home!"

I heard the Jaguar coming up the drive. Carlisle still didn't know about Bella. Esme had called him earlier to tell him I was okay and that she was going to redecorate two of the upstairs rooms, but she didn't tell him anything more—she wanted me to tell him the good news. Although, he'll know something is different as soon as he hears the music and all the banging Emmett was doing. It had been decades since our house had seemed so lively.

"All finished," Alice muttered as she came out. "Don't touch anything of Bella's on the left—that's the stuff I want to throw. This—" she gave a theatrical groan as she picked up the mound of clothes—"is going now. Hi, Carlisle."

"What are you doing with Edward's clothes?" he asked, coming down the hall.

"I'm throwing them out. Look at this!" She picked out a shirt and shook it at him. "What is this? It's from the fifties—the nineteen fifties!"

"Didn't you buy him that?"

She rolled her eyes. "Over a century ago!"

"It's vintage," I supplied.

She turned to look at me in horror before disappearing down the hall, muttering. "Vintage. You've got to be kidding me. The boy's got no idea."

I laughed.

You're laughing.

I smiled as Carlisle came in.

"I'd forgotten how good it feels," I admitted, turning down the stereo.

He smiled as he sat down. What happened?

He'd already figured out what had caused my…very drastic change of demeanour. He had caught her scent downstairs and apparently there was a look on my face that only Bella could put there. So I sat next to him and repeated the events as they had happened here and at her office.

"And now Esme is working on creating a room just for Bella. Emmett's bringing down the wall to extend it while she picks out some fabrics and colours." I smiled shaking my head. "She kicked me out, telling me to clean my room."

He laughed as we both surveyed the room. The empty boxes I had thrown haphazardly into a corner and the CDs in their jewel cases extended a few messy feet in diameter from my stereo.

Glad to see you're doing the opposite of what you're told, he thought, chuckling.

I laughed. "I am doing what I was told. Bella said to have her CDs arranged by the time she gets home."

"Where are you going to put them all?" he asked as he stood, inspecting the boxes I still had to sort through.

"Any of the ones I already have I'm putting aside for her to decide what she wants to do with them. The rest…" I waved a hand at the shelves waiting to be mounted to the wall.

He picked one up and tore off the plastic wrapping. I got up to help him and we worked in silence for a moment.

So, he thought. Bella's home, but you're still upset about something. We put the last plank in place and he turned to me. What is it?

I sighed. Only Carlisle would pick up on something like this. Not even Alice had been sure enough to say anything. I handed him a pile of the earliest CDs, which he took and began to add to my collection. I started with the latest of the ones I had already sorted while I thought about my answer.

He was onto his second pile by the time I asked, "Is it…wrong…of me to—to be so insanely happy that she's a vampire?"

He smiled in understanding. Is it wrong of me to be so happy that Esme is a vampire? Particularly when she is so by my own doing, rather than that of someone else? I acknowledged that with a raised eyebrow and a slight nod, knowing he still experienced conflict over his choices. You also have to think, Edward—this is what she wanted, in the beginning. The last conversation I had with her, she was very seriously considering asking me to change her because you wouldn't. She had wanted this life to be with you and now she has that. If she is happy about it, why shouldn't you be? He bent to pick up some more CDs. I know you never wanted this for her, but she does have it now and if she is still the young woman she used to be, she won't appreciate it if you allow your memories of her human years rule your relationship.

Having said that, Edward, I understand where your doubts are coming from. I know that you think she's lost her soul and that makes it so much harder for you to accept, particularly because you knew her so intimately as a human. I know we've agreed to disagree about this in the past, but… He shrugged. No, Edward—I don't think it's wrong of you to be so happy. Regardless of what you believe, you need to get past what she once was and embrace what she now is.

I smiled ruefully. "Bella told me the same thing," I muttered.

Carlisle smiled. "Bella always has been a smart girl."

I wouldn't argue that. And I wasn't so sure about my stance on souls anymore. Surely you couldn't experience pain of the magnitude I had if you truly were soulless? And surely God wouldn't be so cruel to defile such a creature as Bella in such a way?

What else? he asked after a moment.

I sighed as I sat down and admitted, "She's forgiven me."

He raised an eyebrow even as he frowned. "Would that not be cause for celebration?" he asked gently. His confusion mirrored my own.

"Yes…perhaps…if I understood why." I shook my head. "It doesn't make sense for her to forgive me." I snorted. "It doesn't make sense for any of you to forgive me. I mean…I nearly killed all of you, in one way or another."

Carlisle paused for a moment. Then he sighed and put the last of his pile on an empty shelf. He sat down next to me against the shelves.

Edward…Bella loves you. Even a blind fool could see that.

"But that's not good enough," I argued. "I broke her, Carlisle. I tore her apart and left her to bleed in the forest. And she forgives me so easily for something so horrid? Not even love can excuse what I did to her."

"Apparently, it can," he countered. "From what you've told me, she understands why you left, even if she doesn't agree with it…"

"Exactly!" I pounced. "If she doesn't agree then how can she honestly say she forgives me?"

All right, he conceded, nodding. It is a lot to forgive so quickly. But she obviously wants to and is making the effort to do so. It may take some time before she does completely forgive you but I don't think you should challenge her about it—her love for you is true and she clearly wants to leave the past in the past. He paused. Perhaps you should take the hint and try to do the same, he suggested.

I frowned at him.

"Your guilt is not going to make it any easier for either of you, Edward. Make peace with yourself before you actively seek her total forgiveness. In fact, don't ask any one for forgiveness until you've forgiven yourself."

"Forgiving myself and forgiving someone else are two different things, Carlisle."

Are they?

"Yes. I don't deserve…"

"Don't you think," he interrupted quietly, "that the ones you believe you have hurt should be the ones to decide whether or not you deserve their forgiveness? Don't you understand how completely pointless it is to ask us for our forgiveness when you know that you're just going to dismiss it because you don't believe you deserve it? Yes, you can hear your family's thoughts, but you can't feel our emotions, Edward. As a result you dismiss what you hear if you don't agree with it."

"But…"

"There are no 'buts', Edward!" He was frowning at me. Angrily. I felt a stab of shame that I was upsetting him so much. His mind was as carefully guarded as ever, and of course I didn't pry into that, but I could feel his disapproval as much as I could see it. "This is not your decision to make. If you believe so strongly that you have hurt us so badly, then is not the next most logical step to allow us to decide whether or not your actions are worthy of forgiveness?"

I knew he could hear the shame in my voice as I responded with a quiet "Yes."

"Then don't argue our decision, Edward, because we have decided to forgive you."

There was a chorus of agreement from all over the house. I couldn't stop the smile on my face, even if it was rueful. The sincerity in their thoughts was unquestionable.

It didn't make sense to me, their willingness to forgive. I knew that if situations had been reversed and it had been any of the others in my place, I would have forgiven them without question because they are my family. I had no doubt about that. And yet…for some reason, I couldn't seem to comprehend why they were forgiving me. On a level I knew Carlisle was right, that family didn't hold things like this against each other. But the things I had done…I was convinced they were beyond the realm of forgiveness…

But Carlisle was right. It really wasn't my place to make the decision. Yes, I knew how bad I felt and how badly my decisions affected my family, but I couldn't tell what my family thought unless they let me in. And as much as I may have been offended when Carlisle had said it, I knew Carlisle was right when he said I dismiss what I didn't agree with—which was everything in this particular case.

I frowned as I considered it. I always used to be so certain about things; always knew the best way to react in a situation. But once Bella entered my life I began to make mistake after mistake.

"Carlisle…" I shook my head, feeling helpless. "I don't know what to do."

Carlisle smiled. "Be Edward." I raised an eyebrow at him and his smile grew. "A little clichéd, I'll grant you, but that's all you need to do. I know Emmett wants his 'little brother' back to race against and hunt with. Rosalie thinks the Audi needs a little bit of fine-tuning but she can't do it without some 'original background music'. Jasper needs a quiet intellectual conversation every once in a while. Alice…well, Alice." Her tinkering laugh floated up the stairs from her room. "Esme and I would just like to see you laugh again."

I smiled. "I think I can do that," I muttered.

He nudged my shoulder. "Good. Now." He stood and picked up his CDs again. "How many more boxes do you have to sort out?"

"Seven, I believe."

"Lovely."

xoXox

I was playing the piano for Esme as she sat and read. Carlisle sat beside her, reading the newest edition of the Journal of the American Medical Association. Bella had called barely fifteen minutes ago. Apparently someone had called for her during her meeting—well, not for her as in who she is now, rather her as in who she had been. The caller had asked her secretary for an Isabella Swan.

X

"Isabella Swan is still missing but assumed dead, Edward. She has been for the last eighty years." Her voice was strained and confused, the storm thundering in the background. "And when Lanna told the caller there was no one by that name, they asked for an Isabella Cullen."

I frowned. "No one would use those names. No one would know those names."

"That's what I thought, but obviously someone does. Lanna says she couldn't distinguish gender. The line was distorted or something. She didn't give my name but Christian did. Whoever it was called back while Lanna was at lunch and Christian told them there was no Swan or Cullen but there was a Masen. He didn't get a name or a gender either."

X

I frowned again as I continued to play. The only people who would know those names would either be too old to remember them or dead. Any of Bella's old acquaintances would be at least a century old—completely possible, I guess, with today's new medical technology. It could be possible that someone had seen her and was just checking to make sure that it really was her rather than their old eyes playing tricks.

Possibly.

It was the same with whoever had thought my name down in the car park. Any human from my past who had perhaps seen me would most likely put it down to delusions or bad eyesight. Any one else would have approached me. There was no reason for any of my vampire acquaintances to avoid me.

But I knew whoever had thought my name was not familiar to me. I didn't recognise the voice, but I did know it was feminine. That was all I could glean from the mere moments it had taken to think my name.

After hanging up, I had discussed it with Carlisle. He had agreed it was…bizarre, for lack of a better word, that someone would call for Isabella Swan when her disappearance had made the national news eighty years ago—the daughter of an up-standing, small town Police Chief disappearing without a trace. Although, as Esme had pointed out, perhaps asking for Isabella Swan was not so bizarre for that very reason. Her face had been all over the news. For me, it had been another form of torture I had willing forced upon myself, sitting in front of the television, watching the searches, seeing her picture. But perhaps for others it became a point of reference. Seeing her face on the news and then seeing it again in person eighty years later would be enough to make anyone question it. If it was one of her old acquaintances, one of her old friends, wouldn't they want to know who this woman was that looked so frighteningly identical to the friend they had lost all those years ago?

Having said that, what was truly bizarre was that someone associated our name with hers. Her old acquaintances would remember, surely, that we had left, only returning after her disappearance. They would remember the effect our leaving—or, more accurately, my leaving—had had on her. Surely an old acquaintance would think that even if she were alive, she would not take the name of one that had hurt her so badly?

So why ask for an Isabella Cullen?

The shrill ringing of the phone was accompanied by Alice's frantic shout, both in my head and aloud.

"Edward!"

The vision flooded my mind. The young secretary from Bella's office, Lanna—she was collapsed against the wall beneath the window in Bella's office, covered in blood, her throat half torn out. Bella, crouching in front of the girl, her eyes black and wild with thirst…

I shot up from the piano, sprinting to the phone.

"Bella?" I asked frantically. There was no response on the other end, but I could hear Lanna's moaning gurgles as she slowly bled to death, and the sound of heavy breathing.

"Bella!"

"Help." Her voice was so faint I could barely hear it over the sound of Alice filling in Carlisle and Esme behind me. "Edward…please…Blood. There's so much blood."

"Stop breathing," I instructed her. "Stop breathing and get out." I heard her mutter blood again and I swore. She wasn't listening to me…or rather she wasn't hearing me. I was about to throw down the phone and start running when Alice shouted at me again.

"No! Keep talking to her. She needs to hear your voice. Don't worry about the words, just talk to her or she'll lose it." She reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone as I complied. Then she was thrusting my phone into my hand. "Get her to pick up her phone and go."

"Bella. Bella, pick up your phone," I said. I could hear it ringing. "Bella, please. Pick up your phone."

"She's got it," Alice said as the ringing was cut off. "Go!"

I bolted out the doors, not even noticing that I tore them off their hinges as I went, my phone pressed tight to my ear. "Bella. Bella, love, you need to leave the room. Carlisle and I are on our way. You just…"

"I can't," she moaned. "The blood…I want…"

"No, Bella!" I was running through the streets now, the darkness aiding my passage as I ran. I was still half a city away from her, but I would be damned if I let her destroy everything she had built for herself. "You don't want it. Bella, get out of the room!"

"I…can't…" I could hear the pain the thirst was causing her. "Edward…" The snarl in her voice made me panic.

"Bella, just hang on," I begged as I climbed to the rooftops and began leaping between them. "Please. I'm almost there."

Edward! Alice's voice sounded in my head again. She was in the car with Carlisle, barely five minutes behind me. Edward! She's gone!

There was a loud thud in my ear as she dropped her phone. Snarling, I threw my phone aside as I jumped off the roof of the building across the street from her office.

BPOV

I went for a walk to get some fresh air while I called Edward. I had been shocked when I came back from my meeting and Lanna had told me that someone had called looking for Isabella Swan. It wasn't a name I had heard in decades and I certainly hadn't thought about it—I had been a Masen for too long. And Isabella Cullen…who would make that connection?

I shook my head as I returned through the deserted lobby on the ground floor. It was well after five o'clock, the building was empty but for a few stragglers, the cleaners, Lanna and myself.

My appointment was for seven and it was only half past six but I wanted to make sure that I was fully prepared to deal with my frustrated client. Mrs Sovent had been far from happy about having to come down to my office, insisting that she had posted the manuscript well ahead of its deadline. Why she would post it, I'll never know. Her own office was barely a five-minute walk away—I had strolled past it while I was on the phone to Edward. It would have taken a maximum of fifteen minutes for one of her secretaries to run the manuscript over to us. On top of that, the courier service was undergoing serious redevelopment at the moment and could hardly find its own location let alone any others in the city. And what business in its right mind would use the public service to deliver something so critically important to that business?

I sighed, pressing the elevator button. Lanna had insisted on remaining tonight. She was convinced that the problem was all of her own doing. I was inclined to think that the woman hadn't even posted it yet. But nothing I said changed her mind. She insisted on staying so that someone would be around to provide coffee and snacks, if nothing else.

The elevator music was a quiet piano number. Beautiful and tranquil, but it had nothing on Edward's pieces. My mind wandered, naturally, to Edward's presence in my office earlier.

I had known he and Alice were going to come by, but I think I expected them to at least call first. Why I had expected that, I don't know. But some warning would have been nice. To walk in and see Edward standing behind Alice…to see the look in his eyes when I walked in…my body trembled in anticipation, even now, just remembering it. I had seen Alice's hand slip under his in an action too fast for human eyes and I knew his hand would have crushed the furniture if she hadn't. I had felt his eyes burning into me as I took careful, calculated steps around my desk to seat myself. It had taken every ounce of determination I had not to look at him, not to go to him. And I only made it harder for myself when I did glance up at him. His eyes were always molten gold; a slight smirk on his face as watched me.

I had been bare seconds away from throwing myself over my desk the desire to touch him had been so great. Thank the heavens that Alice had been there, reminding me of our audience. I tried to stay focused on the task I had to do, doing my best to ignore him. But I slipped occasionally. I would glance at him, seeing that confident, predatory smirk on his face and the electricity would charge through me, shortening my breath, making my limbs protest with every action they made because they weren't actions that involved touching him.

Every action he had made, I had been aware of—every little shift of weight, imperceptible to human eyes and probably even to Alice. And I knew he had been just as aware of me.

Then he had been kissing me. Alice had said we would have three-minutes. I snorted. That had not been three-minutes. It had barely even been one-minute.

I smiled, resting my head back against the elevator wall, remembering his hands gliding down my waist, his mouth on my neck. Heat coursed through my body. I wanted this day to be over. I wanted to get back to him, to lock myself in a room with him.

Better yet, I thought suddenly. I wanted to witness something he had once told me I never could.

I wanted to watch him hunt.

My body tingled at the thought and I felt my smile widen. To watch him relinquish that careful control he always maintained, to watch him be natural and predatory. To watch the movements of his body as he hunted, when he was at his most dangerous.

The elevator recording announced I had arrived at my destination. I sighed as I stood straight. At least that one-minute had been a good one.

With a musical bell, the elevator doors opened.

I wasn't prepared for what happened next.

My throat burst into flames the moment the doors slid open; a snarl tore out of my chest; and my body tensed, succumbing to the predator within.

Blood.

Fresh. Human. Blood.

I froze, the elevator doors closing quietly behind me. This level was empty but for the erratic pounding of a terrified heart, coming from somewhere down the hall.

I moved slowly. There was no need to rush. The prey was incapacitated already—its frantic, stationary heartbeat assured me of that—so it wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon. Of course, that took away from the essence of the hunt, but the taste would make up for it. Particularly if it tasted anywhere near as good as it smelt. I let the scent guide me until I stood outside my office door. The curtains were closed and the door was closed.

But I knew what was in there, waiting for me.

The demon inside me was snarling in anticipation as I pushed open the door. The hot scent of fresh blood hit me like a cannon ball, tearing another hungry snarl from my chest. I stared down at the broken human collapsed under my window, blood staining its clothing, pooling around it. My tongue wet my lips, flicking out to taste the heady scent on the air. My stomach twisted with something akin to hunger, my mouth hot and parched.

Its moaning gargle was incomprehensible to human hears, but I heard it as though it was shouting.

"Miss…Masen…"

Lanna. Her name was Lanna. She had an older brother who was graduating from Harvard this year with an Honours Degree in Law, a younger sister that was just beginning her Harvard education. She had only been married to her husband for the last three months—she had only just come back to work from her honeymoon. And even though she didn't know it yet, she was four weeks pregnant.

I clung to that like a lifeline. The demon howled and raged, the thirst burning far more intently as I refused it. She was pregnant. She was brining new life into this world. She was pregnant. She was a person; with a life and with a family she loved. And she was pregnant.

I forced myself to keep as far from her as possible as I made my way to my desk. I couldn't drag my eyes away from her, from her blood even as I reached for the phone. I couldn't do this myself. I wouldn't be able to walk away from her. With each passing moment I could feel my resistance flailing. I wanted her blood and if I couldn't get help, she wouldn't be bringing any babies into this world.

"Bella?" His voice was frantic when answered before the first ring. I didn't even remember dialling. But he already knew. The moment he spoke I felt a wave of calm wash over me. The only problem was, it didn't last. The thirst was too great, the need too strong. "Bella!"

I needed to say something. "Help." It was all I could think of. The pain the thirst was causing was tearing through me. I wanted it. I wanted it so much. "Edward…please…Blood. There's so much blood."

"Stop breathing," he said. I knew he kept speaking and I tried to concentrate on what he was saying to me, tried to listen to his voice if not his words, but the thirst was winning, the demon pushing for the taste to run over my tongue. How badly I wanted to comply. Just one little lick, was all the demon wanted. Just a little, just enough to sample that vibrant, rich…"Blood."

Something was vibrating in my coat pocket, a trilling noise ringing out clear through the air.

"Bella! Bella, pick up your phone. Bella, please. Pick up your phone."

His voice was distant, but I latched onto it, just like I was latched onto the knowledge that the dying woman staring up at me in terror was pregnant, that her life was only just beginning. I still couldn't tear my eyes away from her. I was watching the path of her blood as it dribbled down her skin, staring hungrily at the gaping wound on her neck. The right side of her neck was untouched, clear smooth skin—just ripe for the picking.

I shoved my hand roughly into my pocket, my finger automatically skimming across the receive button as I brought the phone up to my ear. His voice sounded out again, clear and strong, my only anchor in a tormented sea of black desire.

"Bella. Bella, love, you need to leave the room. Carlisle and I are on our way. You just…"

What was he saying? Leave the room? "I can't," I moaned. "The blood…I want…"

"No, Bella! You don't want it. Bella, get out of the room!"

"I…can't…" I really couldn't. I no longer had the initiative to do something so trivial as turning my back. Instead, I knew I was moving closer to her, step by tiny step. She was staring up at me in absolute horror. She was beginning to understand through the haze of her own pain that I was not going to help. She knew I was going to kill her, to finish off what someone else had started. Her fear spiked with her realisation, even as her heartbeat began to slow. The pain flared, so intensely crippling it almost had me on my knees. "Edward…"

I wasn't even aware of the phone slipping from my fingers.

The scent…It was too good. Just too good. It was food. That was all. Nothing more, nothing less.

The demon roared in triumph.

"Shh," I crooned, moving to kneel in front of it. "Shh-sh-sh-sh. It's okay. Shhh."

The scent of its blood was scorching me with every panting breath I took. I ran my tongue over my teeth, exposed by an anticipating smile, feeling the venom gathering, ready to drop when I sank in my teeth. It was whimpering weakly as I reached out, cupping its neck with my hand, turning its head to expose the unblemished skin on the side. I hissed in delight at the feeling of its warm blood on my fingers, running between them and over the back of my hand. Its heart was trying to beat erratically. It would be dead soon, its heart working on overdrive.

I growled as I bent closer, inhaling the scent of its blood and its mounting fear. I bared my teeth, feeling the cooling heat radiating from its skin, its whimpers growing.

The window shattered, spraying glass all over us, cutting its skin and bouncing off mine. I snarled as I rose, Edward colliding with me as he came through the window, throwing us both back, forcing me away from the bleeding human. In one smooth movement, he had me pinned against the wall, using his whole body as a restraint.

"Let me go," I snarled, throwing myself forward, my eyes trained on the human.

He forced me back into the wall.

"No. You know you don't want that, Bella."

I laughed and it ended in a painful groan. I did want it. It was all I wanted. I strained against him, but he was still stronger than I was.

"No, Bella." His words were whispered into my ear, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin.

I pulled myself against him this time, seeking to hang on to my anchor. But the scent was so strong, so close. I slid my hand up his shoulder until I could see it. It was still red with fresh blood and close enough to lick.

I tried to be subtle, whimpering at the very real pain, clutching myself closer to him, manoeuvring myself closer to my hand. But my hungry snarl gave me away.

He twisted with that damned unnatural speed of his and grabbed my wrist before I could taste anything.

I snarled, shoving against him with renewed force, determined to have what I wanted. He snarled back at me, determined to prevent me from having it. We struggled, snarling and swearing until I managed to duck under his arm and darted for the human. But he still had hold of my wrist. He pulled me back with a sharp yank and my back collided loudly with his chest.

I screeched and wailed as he pulled me away, fastening a marble arm around my waist, lifting my feet off the floor, and taking away my only leverage. I squirmed and kicked, my eyes locked furiously on the blood that was being left to waste. He swung me around, turning me away from my source of agony, carrying me out of the room. I squirmed until I could get my feet back on the ground and by the time I did, we were in the hallway, where the scent wasn't quiet so strong.

I spun instantly, and he took a step back to brace himself, his arms forming a steel cage around me I wouldn't be able to break free of. But I wasn't planning on using force. I knew I was no match for him. I had to try something else to get what I wanted.

I knew he was as tempted by the scent of fresh blood as I was— his onyx eyes were testament to that. He just had a century more of experience at handling his bloodlust. But the demon in me knew it was just as painful for him and it was determined to exploit that.

"Let me back," I whispered.

His face was strained. "No."

The pain made me sob. "Please."

"No."

I pressed myself closer to him and his arms tightened reflexively. My clean hand wound around his neck and he bent down so we could press our faces into each other necks.

"Please," I begged softly once more, placing my mouth at his ear, just like he had done to me moments ago. My voice was low, seductive.

He pulled back slightly, suspicion in his eyes. "No, Bella. You called because you wanted help. You wanted to do the right thing. And draining Lanna of life if not the right thing to do."

I didn't hear the way he stressed the human's name. I stretched up on my toes, my body flush with his and traced my nose along his jaw. His scent combined with the scent of blood was…arousing. I growled softly in my throat, the sound coming out more like a purr than anything else. I slid the tip of my tongue along his jaw and I wasn't sure what I wanted to taste more—Edward or the blood.

Could I have both?

"Bella," he growled and there was a dangerous edge to his voice.

I nipped at his ear and purred, "We could share it."

He hissed, low in my ear, and I found myself pinned against a wall again. I didn't mind so much this time. His eyes were narrow as he glared at me but I could see the excitement in them. And that excited me. I lifted my bloodied hand. His hand was an iron fetter around my wrist but he didn't stop me from bringing it between us. The blood was cool—not quite as appetising as hot, pulsing blood fresh from the vein—but it was still wet and therefore still tempting.

I watched him close his eyes and inhale deeply, the tip of his nose scant millimetres from the blood. He growled softly and pushed himself tighter against me. And for a moment, I actually thought he would give in.

But I should have known better.

He pinned my bloodied hand to the wall above my head, out of Temptation's way.

"No, Bella."

I howled my fury, trying to beat him off, but in my attempts to seduce him I had only achieved in allowing myself to be effectively pinned against the wall, wedged solidly between it and Edward's unrelenting body. My furious ministrations made him rock but he refused to give me any ground, to let me escape his snare.

Eventually, I accepted that I wasn't going to get away from him. I resorted to throwing my head back against the wall and sobbing, the pain so intensely unbearable. My legs folded in on themselves and his arms suddenly went from restraining to supporting. I buried my face in his shirt, trying to swamp my senses with him to override the all-consuming desire for blood.

"Get me out," I begged quietly.

I had the vague notion of movement, of being carried. But I felt suffocated. All I could smell was the blood. It swirled around my head, dulling my senses to everything else, a terrible companion to the roaring in my ears—the fury of the demon being denied the very thing it was meant for.

The fresh air hit me like a tidal wave. I gulped it in as quickly as I could, through my mouth and through my nose. It helped to dispel the sense of loss, helped to clear my head…and helped to make me completely aware of every little thought that had crossed my mind since stepping off the elevator.

Horror burned through me.

Sirens were screaming loudly a few streets away. That was when I realised Edward was running with me away from the building. I didn't know what he was thinking. I had no doubt where those sirens were heading, just as I knew that there was plentiful evidence to support that I was supposed to be there at the building. We would have been caught on the surveillance cameras in the hallway. My car was still in the car park, my handbag lying on the ground where I had dropped it. All tiny factors that would arouse a great many questions about my involvement.

But I didn't question him. Thirst was still burning my throat ruthlessly. I kept my face buried in his shoulder, ignoring everything around me, focusing only on the scent I was inhaling from his shirt. Edward was talking to me quietly as he ran, gently encouraging and praising my resistance against the demon I was.

Tires screeched beside us and I was a little surprised to see my car waiting impatiently for us to get in—until I saw Alice behind the wheel. Edward pulled the door open and bundled me in, sliding in deftly beside me. I had a sneaking suspicion Alice had been breaking laws and fabricating evidence again.

The tires screeched again as she pulled away from the curb. She put the windows down and I would have stuck my head out the window like a dog if I could bear to pull away from Edward for long enough. I was still covered in Lanna's blood.

I cringed as I thought the name. It shamed me to know that I had considered the young woman nothing more than a meal quickly going cold. It absolutely appalled me that I had considered taking her life and the life of her unborn child without so much as a twinge of regret. And not only had I thought about taking her life, but I had also tried to seduce Edward into doing it with me.

In that moment, I truly hated myself.

Edward's phone vibrated in his pocket. He frowned as he pulled it out and opened it. His eyes narrowed and he actually moved the phone closer to his face as if he couldn't see the message properly.

"What is it?" I asked, his behaviour bringing me out of my reverie. I was shocked by the growl rumbling in his chest as he turned the phone around so I could see it.

The picture was tiny but I could see every little detail. I could see the picture Alice had given me earlier sitting on the window ledge next to the wall in my office. I could see the love-heart that had been drawn in blood around our faces in the picture, a smear of blood covering mine. And I could see the words written in blood on the wall beside the window—I've found you.

I stared up at Edward, completely shocked. "What is this?"

He was still frowning at the phone, his onyx eyes furious, but I could tell he was thinking, and thinking hard. He didn't answer me and suddenly his eyes snapped shut, a feral growl ripping out of his chest.

"Edward!"

His eyes were burning with emotion when he opened them again. Defiance and possessiveness were fighting for dominance. He pulled me close as he looked back at the picture on his phone.

"Mate for mate," he said, his voice low and dangerously soft. Alice's head whipped around to stare at him. I frowned, confused. I had the vague recollection of a memory, of hearing those words before, but I couldn't place it.

"Why does that sound familiar?" I asked him.

He growled again. "Because it was what Laurent said before he attacked you."

Oh. Well, that does explain it then, doesn't it?

But Laurent was dead. He couldn't have been the one…

She thought it more appropriate to kill you than Edward—fair turn-about, mate for mate…

Not Laurent.

She.

"Victoria," Edward snarled quietly.