Notes: Thanks to my betas, ContentedTwiCow, Sunflower Fanfiction, Jules, and AshesAshes.

If you're celebrating, I hope you have a Happy Thanksgiving!

Chapter 6

The ride back to Manhattan was nearly silent except for the growl of the Exige's engine. Only this time, there was no rush of excitement from being in the exotic car. He'd offered to drive, but she'd given him a scathing look that made him regret even asking. Bella's driving was just as aggressive this time, but there was something different about the way she handled the car. Her movements were no longer fluid and joyous, but tight and controlled. Edward glanced over at her once and then away, unable even to look at her without seeing her lapping his come from her hands.

There was something intensely arousing about the need she had for him. It frustrated him, set him on edge, but at the same time, it made him feel powerful in a way he had never experienced before. In his human life, sex had been a means to an end; a way of satisfying a need that built up in his body. He always made sure it was pleasurable for both he and his partner, but ultimately, for him, it had been forgettable. Even before he was changed, he couldn't have rattled off the names of half the women he'd fucked—blondes, brunettes, redheads … they all blended together. They were ubiquitous; hair color, skin color, race, height, none of that really mattered, although, all of the women were fit and attractive. He was certainly a snob in that regard. None of them stood out though, none had gotten under his skin and made him feel like his bones would melt just from thinking about her.

Until, Bella.

Edward supposed part of that was the supernatural aspect, but he was still having trouble wrapping his brain around the fact that he was different now. His brain kept thinking he'd wake up and go back to the life he'd led before. Even after tonight, where he'd run, feeling like a god, he still expected to open his eyes and see the familiar sights of his apartment. He expected to wake up in a hospital and find out he'd been delirious from fever. It wasn't quite real yet.

And yet, everything tonight had seemed so right. Running and using his new body felt good. In some ways, it felt more real than when he'd been slogging through endless days as an investment banker.

Touching Bella had felt more real than anything he'd ever done in his life. The fantasies were unceasing now. An endless cycle of images paraded through his mind; Bella sucking his cock; Bella, on her hands and knees as he fucked her from behind; Edward's head between her narrow thighs. They wouldn't stop, repeating over and over until he thought he'd go mad from them.

He rubbed at his head, almost wishing for an actual headache, rather than this strange phantom feeling of frustration. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the headrest. He felt a hand hovering just over his arm, his skin prickling with sensation at the near-touch, the tiny hairs on his arm rising. "Don't," he growled, and the hand retreated. For the rest of the drive back, she didn't move to touch him again.

Even with his eyes closed, Edward knew when they reached Manhattan, and he opened them as they slid into the parking spot marked with her apartment number.

He followed her up to her place, once again desperately wishing he could just sleep. What am I supposed to do to fill the hours? He wondered. He quickly thought of something very pleasurable he could do with Bella, and then was immediately disgusted with himself.

It made him snarl at her when she cut him off to slide the key in the lock and let them into her place. Rather than get annoyed, she merely rolled her eyes at him and pushed her way inside. "Feel free to find ways to entertain yourself," she said. "There are books and a television. My laptop is on the desk in the library, you may use it. I'm going to bed."

"I thought we didn't sleep," he snarled.

"We don't." She looked away, her eyes lowered in an expression he would almost say was bashful. "I … I like to just go to bed, close my eyes and pretend. It's comforting."

"Right," he replied, incredulous at the thought.

She looked coyly up at him through her lashes. "You can join me if you want."

"No thanks," he said tersely.

But he watched as she sauntered down the hall to the bedroom, her hips swaying enticingly. His body ached for her, and he hated himself for it.

~Dreaming~

Edward did manage to find a way to kill the time between when they returned to the apartment and when Bella finally emerged from the bedroom. He took advantage of Bella's offer to use her laptop and he Googled himself. He was interested in seeing if there was any more information about his case. It was strange, he knew what had happened, so it didn't actually matter what the police thought. But he found himself morbidly curious about his disappearance.

What he found only depressed him. There was no real investigation. No one cared. His death had been a small blurb days before in several newspapers, relegated to pages that no one ever read. He had already been forgotten.

He didn't know why he was surprised by it. He was an orphan because of a twist of fate involving an icy road and a truck going too fast, but he had become a loner by choice. He had deliberately pushed away everyone who had ever tried to get close to him. His boss was probably the one who missed him most, and that was only because he put in the longest hours, and was best at his job. It was nothing personal.

Hell, his cleaning lady knew more about him than anyone else, and only because he paid her. He sat back in the chair, swallowing down the sick feeling of melancholy that washed over him. Before this, his solitary life hadn't bothered him once. But in this quasi-death, it made him regretful. If he'd actually died, and there had been a body, there would have been no one to claim it.

Edward felt sick as he Googled 'what happens to unclaimed bodies in NYC'. The answers were simple. He'd have been kept in a morgue for ninety days and then, if unclaimed, either donated to a medical school for research and then cremated, or buried in Potter's Field. It was a sobering thought.

He would have had no one to claim is body, no one to mourn him, no one to stand by his grave.

Edward remembered his flippant thoughts about making a beautiful corpse. He could suddenly see that beautiful corpse on a metal slab in the morgue, naked and un-mourned. He pictured cold, clinical hands washing and examining him; faceless, impartial, medical students cutting into him, dissecting him as if he was no more than a hunk of beef. His beauty ruined and pointless. He imagined his mutilated corpse being shoved into a furnace, to burn to ash, or dumped into a grave, with no one to mourn him, no one to even notice that he was gone.

He shuddered, feeling chilled all the way through. However, he knew that was impossible. He was impervious to temperature now. But not to emotions, he reminded himself. No matter how hard he tried to be indifferent, the image of his death shook him.

Suddenly, he wished he had taken Bella up on her offer to crawl into bed and pretend to sleep with her. Now his over-active imagination went down another path. He could feel the soft comfort of a mattress, the weight of the bedding over them, the whisper of silky fabric against their bare skin. He could imagine the way her lithe body would wrap around him, her narrow but strong arms encircling him. Her scent filled his nostrils and his eyes fluttered shut as he leaned back in the chair. Edward could almost feel the slight weight of her as she rested against him, her touch gentle as she traced patterns on his bare chest with her fingertips.

Edward growled low in his chest at the thought. For a moment, he wanted that so badly he could nearly taste it. He pulled himself together and closed out of the results of his morbid search. He had no idea why he was being so fanciful and melancholy, but it was getting ridiculous. He wasn't dead. To the world, he was missing—presumed dead—but, in fact, he had endless lifetimes stretching out before him to do anything he pleased.

So rather than dwell on the past, he brought up a new search, this time typing in one word: vampires.

For the most part, Edward was disgusted by what he found. It was all hokey nonsense from writers with vivid—if inaccurate—imaginations, Hollywood visions, and information so far removed from the truth he had no idea where it came from. In scholarly articles about myths and legends, he found a few, small facts that seemed to fit with what he knew. But none of them gave a satisfactory explanation about where vampires came from originally. None of them offered him a how-to manual for surviving as a vampire. And none told him a damn thing about this soul mate business Bella kept talking about. On that, they were silent. Sure, there were books and movies describing vampires finding love, but there was no discussion of why. Or an explanation about the type of bond Bella described. The information he found described a very human type of emotion, when what Bella hinted at felt more powerful and far more animalistic.

As he searched through page after page, he began to wonder. Had she made it all up? Was this idea of mated pairs something she had lied to him about just to keep him around?

Or maybe she was just insane, Edward mused. He'd noticed how strangely erratic and changeable her moods were with the way she seemed to flash from one emotion to the next. Then again, he had to admit he often felt volatile; the slightest word or thought triggering a reaction. Maybe that's just the way vampires were.

Edward was still suspicious, though, about the lack of any kind of information regarding vampire soul mates. He couldn't decide if the thought of her lying to him about something like that made him more angry or nauseous. He supposed she was lonely, but that was no excuse. The idea of her trying to trick him into staying with her, and making up a bullshit story about them being fated to be together was repugnant. Years ago, Edward might have believed that he'd find love. But his parents had died, and he'd made the choice to cut himself off from the world. It's better that way, he thought grimly. No attachments meant less risk of pain. If he didn't love, he couldn't lose. It was as simple as that.

~Dreaming~

The sun had long been up by the time Bella emerged from the bedroom. Edward heard the quiet snick of the door as it opened, smelled a rush of her scent, and felt the subtle vibrations in the floor as her light footsteps led her into the library. He had long since abandoned his search for information on vampires and was just sitting, staring out the high, narrow windows at the city. He turned in his chair as she slipped into the room and gracefully hopped up on the desk. She was dressed in satin again, this time a robe, and it was a pale blush color, just a few shades darker than her skin. She had showered again, he noticed idly, and her hair lay damp across the fabric. The water was spreading, darkening the fabric and making it nearly transparent.

His eyes were transfixed by the sight of the shimmering droplets beaded up on her skin. They were on her throat, along her collarbone, in the v of the edge of the robe as it dipped down, just barely covering her breasts. Her long, slender legs glistened, and he couldn't tear his eyes from them as they crossed, offering him a teasing glimpse of her thighs, and the shadowed place between. The place he'd been before. The place he hated himself for wanting to be again.

"How was your nap?" he asked, the sarcasm in his voice clear. He thought her idea of resting was idiotic; the idea of a vampire pretending to sleep was utterly ridiculous. Although a small part of him still wondered what it would have felt like to crawl in beside her.

Bella smiled, her lips turning up at the corners. "Restful. I'm not sure it would have been quite so relaxing if you'd joined me. But I might be more … satisfied."

She leaned back, resting her palms on the desk behind her. It parted the robe at the top and bottom, showing him more of her thighs and the inner curve of her breasts. A section of hair slid over her shoulder, revealing the damp, see-through fabric below. Her nipple showed below it, tight and puckered, the fabric so sheer he could see the tiny bumps in the skin, the darker, rosier coloring visible.

Edward tried not to shift in his seat as arousal consumed him. It was hot and hungry, incinerating the slow, simmering anger he felt toward her. He wanted to lean forward, lick a wet trail up her legs, taste the water on her skin, and then bury his head between her thighs until she screamed his name and called him a god.

"What did you occupy yourself with?" she asked, pulling him from the haze of need he was in. "Did you find the stash of naughty pictures of me on my laptop?" He jerked, startled, and she laughed throatily. "I'm kidding. Trust me, I would have known if you'd found it."

Edward scowled, suspecting she was just teasing him about the pictures even existing. "I searched for information about my disappearance."

"And what did you find?"

"Nothing," he muttered, feeling petulant.

Her voice softened. "What did you expect to find?"

"It doesn't matter."

"That's all you did?" she asked, tilting her head to the side to look at him.

"Why? Are you checking up on me?" he snapped.

"No, no, of course not, Edward," she said soothingly. "I just want to get to know you."

"I looked up information about vampires."

"I told you I would tell you everything I know."

"That's the problem," he hissed. "You know nothing. You have these little bits and pieces, but nothing concrete."

She nodded, looking remorseful. "I'm sorry. I wish I had more answers. I can take you to someone who does though."

"When?" he asked, leaning forward.

"Take a shower, and I'll call him."

He glanced down, about to protest that he didn't need a shower, when he realized he did. He was streaked with dirt and tiny leaf particles. He hadn't been aware of it, but their run through the forest had left him filthy. Actually, it was when he tackled Bella to the ground. Most of his torso and part of his legs were clean, where her body had been pinned between him and the earth.

Bella grinned teasingly as if she knew where his train of thought had gone. She leaned forward, and he struggled to keep his eyes from drifting to the neckline of her robe where it gaped open. Her voice was a low, seductive purr when she spoke. "You like to get filthy, don't you?"

Edward managed to ignore Bella's innuendo laden comment, and left the library for the bathroom. He showered quickly, avoiding touching his cock, although it ached for release. The events from the night before swirled through his mind, the tension between them over the past few days tormenting him. But he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of hearing him jerk off.

He left the bathroom and dressed, slipping on a pair of grey trousers and a crisp white shirt. He grudgingly had to admit that the wardrobe Bella had stocked for him was well-made and perfectly tailored. Clearly she'd stock-piled them, assuming he was going to be changed into a vampire and move in with her. If only it hadn't been so presumptuous of her to assume he'd need the clothes, he might have enjoyed them. The fabric was expensive, and he once again found himself wondering what on earth she'd meant about her investments paying for everything. How she could afford the kind of lifestyle she lived was beyond him.

He realized he knew next to nothing about her. He didn't genuinely want to know her, at least -not on a personal level, but the mystery didn't exactly help. How could he believe anything she had to say if he didn't know anything about her?

As he walked out the door, he glanced at himself in one of the many mirrors lining the walls of Bella's bedroom. As much as he hated this thing he'd become, he was just vain enough to feel good about the physical changes.

He looked good.

Bella was dressed and sitting in the living room when he emerged from the bedroom. "I spoke to Emmett," she said.

"Emmett?"

She smiled fondly. "He's the vampire I go to for everything I need."

Edward's nostrils flared, and he bristled at the image that popped into his head: a faceless vampire fucking Bella as she cried out in pleasure.

"Well, almost everything," Bella purred.

"And this Emmett will have answers for me?" he asked coldly, annoyed by the momentary flash of jealousy and the fact that she knew he was jealous.

She nodded. "And we can talk to him about getting access to your personal belongings, and eventually some of your money."

"Good," Edward said tightly. "Let's go."

This time, Bella drove a luxurious, black Mercedes S-Class. The Exige had been fun, but it was a track car, made for high speeds and performance. There was a great deal of power in the Mercedes as well, but it was meant for luxury, with a smooth, whisper-quiet ride. Neither of them spoke on the drive through Manhattan. It was morning rush hour, yet Bella navigated traffic effortlessly as if she was the only one on the road.

Emmett lived in a large loft not far from the one Edward woke up in, only his was finished. Edward didn't know what he expected from what little Bella had said about the other vampire they were meeting, but when he opened the door, the large, dark-haired man wasn't it.

He was a few inches taller than Edward and much broader, his body reminding Edward of one of the statues of Greek athletes.

A warrior.

A gladiator.

He was cool and serious when he greeted Edward, his amber eyes appraising. But he softened when he turned to Bella, and she went into his arms as though she'd known him for years. Then again, for all Edward knew, maybe she had. Maybe they'd been lovers.

Edward caught a brief glimpse of dimples on the dark-haired man's face as he hugged Bella, and it took everything in him not to rip Emmett's head right off. He was sickened to realize how irrationally jealous he was of the man.

He forced down a growl but didn't think he was fooling anyone. He rolled his shoulders, willing his body to calm. Emmett let go of Bella, but his eyes met Edward's in a challenging stare, even though it was clear he was speaking to her. "I see your mate is rather possessive," Emmett said, stepping back to allow them to into the loft.

"I'm not her mate," Edward spat out.

Emmett's brow wrinkled and he glanced down at the woman standing next to him. She looked up at Emmett, her eyes sad and haunted looking. "It's a long story," she whispered hoarsely.

"Give me the basics," Emmett prompted, leading them into the large interior of the apartment. It was a stark contrast to Bella's place. There were no soft colors, or lines. Everything was stark and aggressively masculine and suited the man who owned the place.

Bella's voice was flat and expressionless. "I changed Edward, and now he hates me for it."

Emmett's eyes flicked to Edward and then back to Bella. "Well, that's … unusual."

All of a sudden, Edward became aware of another vampire in the room, a woman who was lounging on the black, leather sofa. She made no move to get up, merely waggled her fingers at them disinterestedly and looked away.

She was blonde and statuesque, with classically beautiful features. Emmett nodded at her. "That's my mate, Rosalie."

So, Edward thought, mates do exist. At least Bella isn't making that up. Either that or they were both as delusional as Bella.

The larger man turned to Edward. "I hear you have some questions about vampires, and you'd like access to your money and property."

"Yes."

"I … I have some things I'd like to talk to you about as well, Emmett," Bella said.

He nodded seriously, his eyes flicking over Edward as if assessing him.

"Let's take a walk, Bella. I think Edward and Rosalie can keep themselves occupied for a little bit."

Bella nodded, and before Edward could even blink, she and Emmett were out the door. He stood staring after them, rather discomfited by the abrupt departure. And he wasn't sure how he felt about the idea of Bella leaving with a man—vampire—he corrected himself that he didn't know or trust.

"I can practically see the wheels turning in your head. You think they've fucked."

"To whom are you referring?" Edward asked coldly, looking over his shoulder at Rosalie.

"Emmett and your Bella."

"She's not my Bella."

"Whatever." She waved a hand dismissively and continued on like he hadn't even spoken. "They haven't, you know."

"Why should I care?" Edward asked as he turned to face her, trying to sound as disinterested as possible. He cursed himself when he realized he did, in fact, care. The idea of the other vampire fucking Bella made him furious.

"You're jealous," she said, with an infuriating smile that curled the corners of her lips up.

"No, I'm not," Edward argued, but she only smiled the infuriating little smile again.

Though Bella and Emmett had wandered a considerable distance away, Edward could hear their conversation clearly. He hadn't even been conscious of it, but he'd kept a part of his awareness on them and when Bella finally spoke, he focused on it.

"He doesn't want me, Emmett." Her voice sounded broken and sad again.

"Did you change him without his consent?" Emmett asked.

Her voice sounded unusually young when she replied. "I … I guess so. I didn't mean to. I thought he wanted it. I thought he wanted to be with me."

"You have a tendency to be impatient, Bella. You leap without thinking, without taking the time to be sure it's right."

"He's my mate, Emmett. I'm sure of it. You know how many years I've been looking for him."

"Are you one hundred percent sure that he is your mate?" Emmett asked mildly.

"Yes. The smell of him, the taste of his blood, even the way his arms feel around me are so right. I know he's mine."

Emmett sighed. "You know that sometimes the mate bond gets … skewed. That sometimes one feels it, and the other doesn't, or denies it."

"Yes, I know," she snapped.

"You remember what it was like with—"

Bella cut him off, her voice harsh. "I remember. Don't bring them up."

Edward wondered to himself who they were talking about. Just one more mystery when it came to Bella … what was her last name? Jesus, she'd changed him into a supernatural being and told him she was in love with him, and yet he didn't even know her fucking name. This situation was utterly ridiculous.

Bella and Emmett's voices had begun to fade, and all he heard was a final question as they moved out of range. "What do I do, Emmett?"

He heard a low, throaty chuckle from the blonde across the room and returned his focus to her. "You really got yourself into one hell of a mess. That girl's stubborn, she's not just going to give up and let you walk away."

"Once I know what the fuck I'm doing, I'll leave, whether she wants me to or not," he snarled.

"I'm sure you know the phrase the female of the species is more deadly than the male? Well in the case of vampires, it's often true." Rosalie bared her teeth at Edward. It should have looked ridiculous, but Edward felt a cold little shiver skitter down his spine, although he tried to hide it. He didn't think he was successful. "Don't for one minute, ever, underestimate a female vampire. Bella's softer than many of us, but don't discount her. And don't think that she wouldn't do anything to keep you. A vampire will move heaven and earth to find their mate, and even more than that to keep them. A female vampire feeling like her mate could be taken away from her is the most deadly creature on earth."

"What do you mean about Bella being softer?" he asked curiously.

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "She has these moral hang-ups about killing humans—" Rosalie waved her hand dismissively— "she had this thing happen in her past, and she's all weird about it."

"Well, she didn't have any qualms about changing me without my consent," Edward snarled. "She obviously doesn't have that many moral qualms."

Rosalie only laughed throatily and shrugged. "One thing we have in common then."

Edward leaned back against the concrete pillar behind him, wondering what Rosalie had meant about what happened in Bella's past, but equally curious about the other statement she'd made. "You changed Emmett?" he asked.

"Oh yes."

He raised an eyebrow at her in disbelief. "And he wasn't angry with you for it?"

Rosalie unfolded herself from the couch and stood up fluidly. In her towering stiletto heels, she was as tall as he was. "You think any man could resist this?" She gave him an equally disbelieving look, and swept a hand up and down her curves, indicating her body.

Edward looked her over and shrugged. "I could."

She chuckled throatily. "Yes, but I'm not your mate."

"Well, despite Bella's assertions, she and I aren't mates."

"So you say." Rosalie shrugged. "Maybe Bella just isn't as irresistible as I was."

Edward found himself bristling. "Or maybe Emmett was just easy."

Before he could blink, Edward found himself pinned against the pillar, two extraordinarily, strong fingers digging into his throat and Rosalie's snarling face just inches from his. "Don't you dare speak of him that way. You know nothing about vampire mating."

"Then tell me," he roared. "I'm fucking tired of this secrecy, of all the hints about what it's like to be a goddamn vampire."

"Get the hell away from him," Bella snarled from across the room. Edward jumped; he hadn't even realized she was back.

He felt the fingers leave his throat, and he snarled as Rosalie pulled away. She hissed back at him, and he saw Emmett's hands clamped on her upper arms, tugging her backwards. "Easy, Tiger," he said.

Rosalie let out a low sound that made his hair stand on end. It was throaty, a growling purr that he could feel in his own chest. She turned in Emmett's arms, sidling up to him like a large cat. "You like it when I get rough."

"With me, yes. But not with our guests." Emmett's large hand slid down her back, soundly cupping her ass. She laughed and her earlier rage seemed forgotten as she moved against him, stretching up to kiss him deeply. There was something unbelievably sensual about watching them together, and he felt himself fascinated by it, maybe even turned on by it.

Unable to watch another couple grope each other in front of him any longer, he interrupted. He didn't think he could take any more without completely snapping. "Will someone please just fucking tell me more about being a vampire?" he asked coldly.

"I need information now."

Notes: Emmett and Rosalie have arrived! What do you think?