Chapter pic: bit(dot)ly/sotpm09-pic

Chapter music: bit(dot)ly/sotpm09-music

"SINS OF THE PIANO MAN"
CHAPTER 09: THE GIRL SURROUNDED BY DEATH

There's a science fiction in the space between you and me,
A fabrication of a grand scheme,
Where I am the scary monster.
I eat the city, and as I leave the scene…
There's no one but you standing.

"Telling Stories" by Tracy Chapman

EDWARD MASEN
I held the last note of the lullaby, letting it fade into the silence found at the other end of the phone call. As it drifted and reverberated off the walls of my new living room, it occurred to me that this lullaby, like all my compositions, had never been mine. It had always been her lullaby, quite specifically. I just hadn't known her name.

Bella's lullaby.

It was the only piece I'd written that wasn't about death, but it belonged to a woman I'd nearly killed. "Sleep well, Bella," I whispered.

With a sigh, she turned at the sound of my voice, and her cell phone dropped quietly onto rustling sheets. I could hear her deep, calm breathing, the tinny sound of her steady heartbeat through the connection, and knew that for at least one more night I had kept her nightmares at bay.

I ended our long phone call and heaved a sigh. This was one of those times where I wished I could curl up beneath a blanket and muffle my worries in painless slumber, but there would be no sleep for me. There was no sleep in purgatory.

I was left with my thoughts—or really, it was just a thought, for the same truth repeated in my brain, rotated on its carousel again and again.

Isabella Swan was Renée's daughter, and death surrounded her like a suffocating quilt of darkness. Worst of all, I had to face the fact that I'd played the part of Death in her life—more than once, more than twice.

Bella, before she'd even been Bella at all, had unwittingly changed my existence with her own, a fact that made me realize just how young she was—just how old I was and how ashamed I should feel about my attraction to her. Without knowing it, she'd saved countless lives that would have been lost by my hand had I not met—and even worse, seduced—a pregnant Renée in 1987 Seattle.

But at what cost did Bella beget all of this change?

I'd nearly snuffed out her life before it had even begun—a notion that was nearly crippling, that shamed me until I cringed beneath its weight. Even if indirectly, she had given me my humanity. She had given me music and reading and some modicum of peace, an existence not blindly led by thirst and subsequent rage. She had given my victims their stories. I owed her life everything for that alone. I perhaps even owed Renée, even if she had only ever become the unfit mother I feared she might.

And how had I repaid Bella for these gifts?

I'd nearly killed her again in Seattle. I'd stalked her. I was still stalking her, still creeping into her room when she was in Port Angeles, and now seriously considering the same routine for her visits to Forks. Though my intentions had transformed over the last week, none of it changed the fact that I was still hunting her, when she had done nothing to deserve the evil I would bring into her life.

She said she wanted me to stay, that her life couldn't possibly become any more complicated, but my presence would endanger her in ways that were beyond my control, in ways that I was only now allowing myself to consider. Our relationship, whatever our relationship was, placed her in a very unwelcoming world—my world. What would happen if she ever discovered what I was? Secrecy was the one rule I was told mattered. Revealing our secret to a human one had no intention of turning was tantamount to a death wish for all parties involved.

Then there was the simple fact that I put her at risk directly. How many times had I considered killing her in the two weeks since we'd met? Since before she was born, I'd wanted her blood. Now, it was even more delectable. Renée's blood wasn't diluting it, and it was laced with pheromones that seemed to draw me in, as if I were a sailing ship pulled toward a shining lighthouse beacon. All it would take was one cut, one broken bone or skinned elbow, and I feared I might kill her.

Her blood…

I growled in frustration as I swallowed excess venom. It trickled and slithered down my throat, taunting the burn.

Her blood was like a heady concoction made just for me, and in turn I was her very own demon. What could God possibly have against such an innocent, well-meaning creature that he should continue to put her in harm's way, in my way?

But staying wasn't about her blood anymore, I didn't think. The more time I spent in Bella's presence, the less I felt compelled to bend under the weight of my bloodlust. Even though it still savagely burned and tore at me, the monster was precariously held at bay once again. However, as the temptation to drain her subsided, all the other feelings she inspired seemed to double in strength. I'd not felt so pushed and pulled by my own emotions since my newborn years.

It was for that reason that I found myself at a very troubling impasse, for while there were moments where I wanted to possess her in every way imaginable, there was also the ever-present instinct to protect.

What was I to do when the very thing I felt I needed to protect her from was myself? The obvious solution was to leave her and never interfere in her life again. But what choices did I have when she was begging me to stay?

The truth was that I wanted to stay.

I wanted her, because every time I was with her, I felt curiously at peace. Even when she angered and frightened me, I was drawn to her, to her quiet and shy beauty, to her laugh, to the kindness she showed her father.

Unfortunately, the fact remained that though I might have control of the monster inside of me, I was still a monster, and my world was not to mix with Bella's if she was to live a long and happy life, a life she deserved.

"Don't go," she so often whispered to me at dawn, when I would leave her bedside. She didn't even know she was speaking to me, but she always called to me, always stretched out a slender hand.

"Don't go," she begged me tonight.

I wanted to stay, to understand her, to know her mind, to know her body. I wanted everything with her. I wasn't even quite sure what that encompassed, but I blindly wanted anything she would give me. I was consumed with a greedy desire to be a normal man for an abnormally extraordinary woman, despite all my past sins against humanity—against her.

Could I exist in our two worlds and keep her safe?

I wasn't sure, but wanted to try. It was selfish, but I wasn't ready to let go.

Forks' town center was old and rundown, with trends in its architecture and design that showed it had peaked in the seventies and now didn't quite know how to function in a technologically-driven economy and world. With so little traffic to hinder me, I drove down the main roads easily, noting that several of the restaurants and motels Renée had envisioned twenty years ago were still in business, or as "in business" as small town stores and offices could be.

When I reached the outskirts of Forks, I knew I was coming near to Charlie Swan's house, and I began to feel nervous. I wasn't quite sure why, considering I had about sixty years on Bella's father, but then, I didn't look it, and I knew that well. I would be judged according to my twenty-year-old appearance.

Don't slip, and you'll be fine, I told myself, but it had been a long time since I'd dived so deeply into playing human. I'd always done this in some capacity, either for hunting purposes in the past or, more recently, to simply put humans at ease as I interacted with them, but this was different. I wasn't hunting, and I would likely see Charlie, and certainly Bella, again. This day was important.

It was paramount that I seem normal, which was nothing short of a laughable concept for a vampire. Bella might be absurdly forgiving of my sometimes questionable behavior, but I wasn't stupid; she was the exception to the rule. Charlie Swan—especially retired Police Chief Swan—was not likely to forgive and forget any strangeness.

Stay calm.

I needed to be especially careful around Bella. I'd already made numerous mistakes in her presence, either because my thirst was consuming me or simply because I had no means of tapping into her thoughts. I'd always used people's thoughts to modulate my behavior—what I said or didn't say, whether I touched them or not, how often I touched them. With Bella, I flew blindly, and I was stumbling over myself as a result.

There were three cars parked in front of the modest Swan residence: Bella's Honda, a green pickup truck and a shiny, yellow Porsche. I did a double take on the last vehicle. Well, that was something I didn't expect to see in Forks, much less parked in front of Charlie's home. I pulled up behind it, wondering why anyone would ruin such an excellent vehicle with yellow paint.

He's here! A particularly "loud" thought grabbed my attention as I unfolded myself from the car. The inner voice drifted away, though, to be swallowed up in the "talkative" crowd that was almost always prattling on in my head.

And then I smelled it—her. Vampire.

My muscles locked defensively as I spun around, putting my back to my car. I curled my fingers until they were claw-like, ready to attack, my eyes darting left to right. I sniffed the air, trying to determine where the vampire was. The scent was far too near the Swan house. I tried to find the vampire's thoughts, but there were too many people in the immediate area for me to discern a mental voice I didn't know.

"Psst, over here!" a soft, girlish voice called from beyond the tree line near Charlie Swan's house.

I growled toward the forest—a low warning sound. My territory, it communicated. Back off. Don't encroach.

I didn't expect the vampire's response. She laughed. "Don't be so feral!" she admonished in a quiet tone that only we would hear. "Come have a chat with me." She stayed within the safety of the trees, hidden behind giant trunks.

I narrowed my eyes and glanced between the forest and the small, white house. Leaving Bella and her sick father unprotected seemed like a bad idea, but I only smelled the one female vampire; perhaps I could lead her away from the area if I went to her. I rushed to the tree line and stepped into the cool, damp forest. My shoes sunk slightly into the wilted ferns and muddy terrain.

I'd only met a few vampires in my existence—just in passing—and had only ever stayed amongst a coven for a month in the forties, during one of my two ill-fated flings. Even with little knowledge of my kind, really, I knew we were generally a vile bunch—hunters, thieves and scavengers. Most drank the blood of their victims before stealing their clothes for themselves. Identity theft occurred on occasion.

The vampire I found in the forest went against the grain of my knowledge.

She was in a white, wool coat that stood out starkly from the shade and mossy greens, but what I noticed most was the way she had shifted her weight onto one leg—a decidedly human posture that few vampires ever took the time to notice, much less adopt when not in the presence of humans. I'd only ever known myself to do it.

The vampire was short with black, short hair that stood out slightly in soft-edged spikes around her ears. She seemed calm, but a quick search of her mind resulted in near information overload as images and fragmented conversations flitted in and out of her thoughts. A careful smile was on her face.

I neared her warily, with tensed muscles and another snarl vibrating in my chest.

She sighed, her smile faltering. "I'm not hunting here, you know."

"Then what are you doing in the area?" I snapped.

"I could ask you the same, but I already know what you're doing here."

"You don't know anything about me."

"Don't I?" She smirked.

I growled in frustration.

"Oh, would you please calm down already? There'll be no fights here today. Look at my eyes." Pointing at them, she leaned forward and widened them dramatically. "See? We're not so different."

I took a cautious step back from her and her venomous little mouth, but I did see.

Her eyes were golden, identical to my own.

"You feed off animals?" I was skeptical. Though I was looking at the proof, it was difficult to believe another vampire would willingly resist temptation. There were still days where the only thing that kept me from going on a rampage was the fact that I would face my victims' dying thoughts.

Yes, I drink animal blood, she answered clearly in her mind. Her eyes connected with mine as she gave me a sly, knowing smile.

I felt panicked. How did she know about my ability? I tried to keep my expression impassive, as if I were still waiting for her to answer me. Perhaps I could make her doubt herself…

I know you can hear me. She rolled her eyes.

I hissed and crouched defensively. "What is this? How do you know about me?" I sniffed again, making sure we were still alone. I only smelled our scents and dead, moldy leaves.

She snorted daintily. "You're more arrogant than I thought you'd be. As if you're the only one with a gift."

She had an ability, too, then?

I tried reaching into her mind to understand her better, but her thoughts were still a jumbled mess, apart from the clear answer she'd given me just a moment before. They twisted and turned down a maze of scenes—a face here, a face there, a whipping wire of lightning as it ripped across a gray sky. I wasn't sure if what she was doing was an active or passive trait of her ability, or plain and simple mind games, but it was very annoying and more than slightly unnerving.

As if being unable to clearly read one mind in this region wasn't enough.

"It seems you understand a lot about how my ability works," I complained. "Mind sharing the details of yours so you won't have such an unfair advantage?"

Shrugging, she answered simply. "I can see the future."

I laughed loudly, and my body relaxed and straightened of its own accord. The tightly-coiled knot in my stomach loosened a little. "Of course you can."

I can. She smiled. And I've been waiting to meet you for a very long time. Her mental answer was crystal clear.

"Oh, is that so?" I asked dryly, still feeling uncomfortable that only one of us was actually speaking. I didn't believe her, even if she was very good at whatever she was playing at. I knew that our kind loved mind games. It was a way to pass through eternity without wanting to kill yourself at every turn due to sheer boredom.

A psychic. I snorted. No one could be that gifted.

"You don't believe me," she pouted.

"You'll have to forgive me. I am rather skeptical."

"That's understandable," she said gently. "But why would I lie? Do you think I have ulterior motives?" She said it as if it was the most unthinkable notion.

I stepped closer to her, and she craned her neck upwards to look at me; she was incredibly short, even shorter than Bella. "Regardless of your motives, I think it would be best for you to stay away from the Swans," I said darkly. "I won't let you harm them."

The little vampire surprised me as she openly laughed again; the chiming sound echoed through the forest surrounding us. "You are so silly! I know Bella better than you do. I would never hurt her."

She knew Bella? Fear gripped at me.

"Who are you? How do you know the Swans?"

I'd kill her if it'd keep Bella safe. The fear and barely controlled anger were alarming.

Her thoughts gave nothing away as she smiled a witchy smile. "I'm Alice Cullen." She held out her hand to me. "Pleased to meet you."

I tilted my head to the side, considering her. After a century, it took a great deal to surprise me, but I felt my mouth drop open then. I didn't reach out to touch her. "Your coven… You're not the friends Bella says she has in Forks, are you?" It was an absurd idea, but Bella had mentioned only one family in Forks that she was close to.

"That'd be us, yes." Her hand fell back to her side.

"Who's E. Cullen? Are you related to him?" I asked, my throat dry and burning. I'd impulsively bought my new Port Angeles house from an E. Cullen—at least, that's what the paperwork had said. I'd never met the owner. I'd had no clue I was buying from one of my own. I didn't like it.

"Her," she corrected. "That would be Esme. And there's her husband, Carlisle, who is my…father figure, for all intents and purposes. He's Charlie's doctor."

Carlisle. Carlisle Cullen. The name was familiar somehow, but I found nothing in my memory to suggest I'd ever met a vampire by that name.

And he was a doctor? How could I even begin to believe such things? Perhaps this vampire was delusional.

My eyes narrowed. "How many are in your coven?"

"There are three in my family. There are usually more of us, but they're in Alaska right now."

Family?

I stopped breathing as a thought occurred to me. "Wait. Does Bella know?" I swallowed nervously. "Does she know what you are?" What I am.

"Of course not," she scoffed, "but she's very observant. Lucky for you, she's not so willing to believe what she sees; she is human, after all." She shook her head, and her mop of spiky black hair swayed with the motion. "I don't think it would've been so easy if we'd gotten more closely involved when she was younger." She stared past me, as if remembering the past, though her thoughts were still a twisting mess of imagery. "I wanted to get to know her when we were in high school together, but I never saw it ending well if we did."

"So what is this? Is she just a game to you? Are you toying with her, with her father?" The mere thought of a vampire doing such a thing to Bella nearly sent me into a rage.

"No," she hissed. "I love Charlie and Bella. I help look after them." I relaxed somewhat as she allowed her thoughts to echo this sentiment. At a speed that was difficult to follow, she showed me scenes of hugging Charlie Swan after he had taken pills from a dozen different bottles, scenes of her helping Bella guide Charlie to and from the bathroom. They were difficult to watch; gone was the healthy, smiling man I'd seen in Renée's thoughts so long ago—the man that, until last night, I'd never expected to actually meet.

The world was much smaller than I'd ever expected it to be.

I didn't want to believe Alice was telling the truth. The idea of compassionate vampires went against all I knew regarding my kind, and to believe in the possibility of that meant I had to trust in the sprightly woman before me. Yet, there was clarity, a truth to these thoughts she was so willingly sharing. These weren't conjured up imaginings. They were most certainly her memories.

I sucked in a breath when I saw she had been in the presence of Charlie's blood.

"How?" I asked incredulously. Just seeing his blood in her memory set my throat aflame.

She shrugged, and the memories shut off, as if she'd turned a faucet valve. I was once again met with stilted scenes, this time of traffic jams and shouting stock traders on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange. Her thoughts seemed random, but I knew she was hiding something. "Love conquers all," she answered.

I laughed. "That's a fine sentiment, but the bloodlust doesn't easily bend to such human emotions."

She smirked. "Doesn't it?"

Her cryptic attitude was grating.

"You're very good at giving me only what you want," I remarked as I tapped my temple with a finger. "It's annoying, and I can't help but wonder what you're hiding." Not to mention how she was doing it.

"Oh, I see. Since I value my privacy, I must surely be guilty of something?" She smiled. "It's the old 'if you're innocent, you have nothing to hide' myth?" She used obnoxious air quotes. "My thoughts are my own until I can trust you, and I get to decide when that is."

I blew a long breath between my lips. "Well, I still don't believe you're psychic."

"That doesn't surprise me. You're stubborn." She quirked a brow. "Of course, that's why you and Bella are so perfect for each other." At that, she looked back in the direction of the house. "We should go back. I only told her I was getting something from my car." A flash of something—a thought of Bella opening the front door—surfaced in her mind, but she shut it down promptly. In its place, I watched an orchid blossom; its growth shown in staggered frames, as if from a stop-motion animation.

More than slightly bewildered by this turn of events, I followed behind Alice closely, my senses still alert as she walked back to the house. How should I handle this? Instinct told me to grab Bella and run away—very, very far away—as Alice and the rest of her coven might be dangerous. But then, Bella spoke highly of her "friends in Forks" as being some of the only people—I scoffed at the term—to help Charlie and her, and it was obvious that Alice fed from animals. In theory, she shouldn't pose a risk, but how could I know for certain?

Not that it wasn't terribly hypocritical of me to fear Bella Swan might be put at risk by a vampire's proximity.

I frowned. Bella was more surrounded by death than I'd even realized. How long had she been unwittingly associating with these vampires? Were they as drawn to her as I was? I really didn't like the thought of that.

Just who the hell were the Cullens? Alice's coven leader was supposedly a doctor—Charlie's doctor, to be exact. How was it even possible for a vampire to be surrounded by all the blood a doctor would undoubtedly encounter on any given day? The very thought of it made me thirsty.

I would definitely kill humans again if they were openly bleeding around me. I'd done it before. Sighing, I swallowed venom and willed my body into submission. It wouldn't do to be thirsty around Bella, of all humans.

At the porch, I hopped a couple of steps ahead of Alice. I was displeased enough that it looked like she'd be entering with me, so the most I could do was make sure I was between her and the humans inside.

Just as I was reaching for the door handle, a pounding heartbeat sounded loudly on the other side, and the door swung open. There, in all her very frazzled glory, was the young woman who had taken up residence in my brain. A smile broke out on my face. She was dressed differently, with a soft-looking navy sweater that hugged every curve, and I found my eyes lingering where they shouldn't. This was not her typical, faded t-shirt.

As always, she smelled heavenly, like a garden straight from Eden. I breathed deeply, relishing the fire that meant she was near. Somewhere, the monster pulled at his chains, but if I could just see her, it was enough to keep him in his place. If at all possible, I would never, ever hurt this woman again.

"Oh!" Bella stopped abruptly from running out the door, grabbing hold of the doorframe to keep from tripping forward as I'd so often seen her do. I smirked as she tried to play it smooth, as if she were relaxing against the damp wood. "I didn't hear you drive up." She sounded breathless and excited, and it was as if my own heart was speeding away with hers.

I smiled, almost overwhelmed by the sight of her. "I parked along the street, behind the Porsche," I explained. I stepped closer, further wedging myself between her and Alice. "You look beautiful, Bella."

Beautiful, in fact, was an inadequate word. At her worst, I was finding that was how she looked to me.

Her blush, which had cooled, reignited tenfold. "Uh, thanks," she said softly, her eyes darting down to the one questionable part of her ensemble—her old, muddy sneakers.

Tilting her head to see around my shoulder, she spoke to Alice. "I was just coming to find you... I'm guessing you guys met outside?"

"Yep," Alice said behind me. "We're becoming fast friends, aren't we, Edward?" I flinched as she patted my back.

Bella looked between us with narrowed eyes before backing away from the door. "Okay… Well, get inside, you two."

Charlie's home was dated by about twenty years but warm, and the scents inside were both delicious and cloying. While Bella's lay heavy in the walls, a bed of roses imprisoned in old plaster, so did Charlie's woodsy aroma and, most potently, the smell of sickness and medicine.

If my senses could tell me anything, it was that Charlie Swan did not have long on this earth. My dead heart clenched for Bella, and I decided right then that, if at all possible, I would be there for her at least until Charlie passed.

Needing to make contact, I reached out carefully and placed my palm along the small of her back, mimicking what I so often did to her at night when I delighted in her unedited sleep talking. As always, her heat bled into me, rushed up my arm and through my body, which was often all too eager to respond. I watched in fascination as her shoulders relaxed.

My touch does this to her.

Bella's smile was watery and unsure as she gazed up at me. "Come meet my dad?"

I nodded and kept myself near her as she led me into the living room. I made sure Alice was always behind me. It left me vulnerable to attack, but it was the only way to ensure Bella's safety while also maintaining some semblance of human normalcy. Considering both Bella and Charlie were completely oblivious to the fact that two killers were in their home, I couldn't exactly have a snarling fit with the other vampire in the room.

Edward, Alice called in her mind, immediately gaining my full attention, as if she'd spoken my name aloud. You need to relax or Charlie's going to be suspicious. Don't walk around like you sat on a pole. You don't have to be so paranoid and uptight, you know. I'm not going to eat anyone. I hunted just this morning!

Part of me wanted to argue with her, but now wasn't really the time, and she was right that I wasn't relaxed. I forced myself into a calmer stance.

That's better, she thought. If only you weren't wearing that dark shirt. It doesn't complement your complexion at all, you know. She imagined me in a light grey button-up and put a ridiculous smile on my face. See? Much better.

Annoying was more like it. What was I, a five-year-old? She wanted to dress me now?

Charlie turned off the television as we neared him. Alice's memories were older ones, clearly, and they hadn't done his current situation justice. He looked worse—weaker, smaller—but he stared at me with Bella's strong brown eyes, judging and calculating.

As I stared back, I searched for his thoughts, unsure of what I would find, considering the silence of his daughter's mind. His thoughts were indeed quieter than most humans'—not blissfully, exasperatingly silent like Bella's, but most definitely muted.

Huh. Never would have thought…Bella's type.

No, most wouldn't expect their daughters to bring home vampires, I imagined.

"Dad?" Bella said as she went to stand beside his recliner. "This is Edward." The blush had yet to leave her face, and I found myself having to hold back a poorly-timed laugh. Bella's thoughts might be locked tight, but her face, I was learning, could sometimes give her away.

My laughter died quickly as she timidly reached out and took my hand. It was a warm gesture that made my still heart jump to phantom life. How could she tolerate my cold skin? Did she still not fear me at all? She seemed content and graced me with a tiny, sideways smile.

Charlie didn't miss the interaction, nor give any formal pleasantries. "So, is your family from around here? Can't say I know any Masens off the top of my head…" Don't cough, he ordered himself as he placed a hand over his chest. Stubborn, he didn't want to show any weakness in my presence.

"Dad," Bella admonished in embarrassment.

"It's all right," I told her with what I hoped was a winsome smile that I then turned to Charlie. "I'm originally from Chicago, sir."

And how long ago was it that you were in Chicago? Alice thought sarcastically.

For a supposed psychic, she really wasn't being helpful in the least.

"Chicago boy. Uh-huh." Better make sure he's going to…treat…right. Better…Jacob. A hazy image of a tan-skinned boy with his arms thrown around a younger Bella swirled in his thoughts, along with a bitter tinge of disappointment.

An unfamiliar emotion surged in me. Who the fuck was that kid?

The image soon faded, and Charlie struggled to a stand. "Well, let's get this show on the road. I'm starved."

The drive to Charlie's favorite diner was one of the most awkward experiences of my existence. Bella drove her car—very slowly—with her father in the passenger's seat, which left Alice and me in the back. That was too close for my comfort, and I sat wedged into the side of the car in an effort to keep my distance. Directly in front of me, Bella noticed this and lifted her eyebrows at me in her side mirror. I shrugged, and she stuck her tongue out.

That preoccupied me for a while.

If Alice noticed my discomfort, she didn't care in the least. She insisted on sitting on the skinny middle seat, so she could talk to everyone, a feat which apparently was impossible without the full use of her hands, the left of which was always invading my personal space. She prattled on to Bella about fashion, and Bella, for her part, tried to appear interested, but I suspected she merely enjoyed Alice's exuberance. Charlie didn't seem to mind Alice's motor mouth, either.

Fashion. Doctoring. What kind of vampires were these?

The diner smelled of old grease and bitter vinegar when we entered, as if both had been cooked directly into the wood wall panels through the years. At least it wasn't like McDonald's. So help me Christ, I was never letting Bella eat in that place again.

Patrons seated themselves in the diner, and Bella chose a booth as far away from everyone else as possible. I didn't miss the glare she gave a few people who stared pityingly at Charlie. Her ineffectual fury was oddly endearing, really.

Still, I was glad it was aimed at others, and not myself. So far.

I slid into the booth, expecting Alice to join me, but it was Bella who sat down beside me. She left no distance between us; her thigh pressed against mine with a blazing heat I wanted so badly to know, to touch, to taste. A fire flickered between us as I turned my body toward hers.

I leaned over and breathed in her scent. I could see down her sweater—the cream-colored swell of breasts, a sweeping arc of treacherously black lace. Two sides warred within me, the side that desired to seduce her and have my way, and the side that wanted to protect her and put space between us. I wasn't sure which side was winning at the moment. I was ensnared, enthralled.

Alice cleared her throat. She has a face, you know. Better keep your eyes on it, too. Don't think Charlie would be too thrilled to catch you as you are right now.

Straightening up, I narrowed my eyes at her. She grinned cheekily and recited designer labels in her head—in reverse alphabetical order. She was becoming less of a threat and more of an annoyance as the hour wore on at a snail's pace. Still, I took her advice and kept my eyes on safer, if less interesting places.

A slender woman with fake red hair came to our table and asked for our drink orders. I ordered a beer. It seemed the right thing to do when Charlie asked for one. I wanted to fit in and be accepted—as best I could, at least.

"Dad." Bella leaned forward on the table when the waitress left. "I'm pretty sure Carlisle didn't mean a beer a day. You are still taking pain meds, you know." Bella looked to Alice for backup, but she was wisely staring out the window.

You'll find Bella gets rattled like this a lot.

Her thoughts were colored with sympathy, and I realized that perhaps Alice Cullen really was a friend to the Swans.

I still had my doubts, too.

Charlie breathed in a shaky breath and stared back at Bella. "My life, Bells. Remember what we talked about?"

Bella's face fell, and she sat back with a soft, defeated sigh. Under the table, I grabbed her hand and squeezed. It was the lightest of flexes for me, like cradling a butterfly. She laced her fingers through mine and squeezed back. My skin didn't give beneath her touch, but my heart did.

Alice's eyes were smiling. See? You two make a great match.

I frowned. As if Bella could ever see me as her "match." And then my brow furrowed. Did I want to be seen that way?

Perhaps, I did. Perhaps…

I looked down at the menu in front of me. What was I even doing here? It was comically absurd, a cliché joke waiting to unfold. Two vampires and some humans walk into a diner…

Still, against all logic, I wanted this lunch to go well. I wanted Bella to be happy.

I wanted her to be happy with me, even, but I didn't quite understand that emotion or really any of the emotions I'd felt since our—was it a date?—on Friday. I never knew what was going on with Bella. I was always diving in headfirst and only thinking in the aftermath.

Charlie cleared his throat before turning his gaze on me. "Bella hasn't exactly been outspoken about you…" He frowned. "What do you do? Are you in school?"

"Self-employed. I compose music," I answered. "Contemporary piano."

Oh, great… Musician… Heartbreakers. "You make a living doing that?" he asked doubtfully. Bet...lives at home…

"Dad!" Bella admonished.

I patted her leg. "I do all right," I answered vaguely. Telling Bella's father that most of my money came from poker tables every few years probably wouldn't be wise.

"Hobbies?"

This really was an interrogation.

"Didn't you say you liked to hunt?" Alice asked suddenly, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Deep in thought, Bella was looking at me with a wrinkled brow.

I glared at Alice as I spoke. "I don't mind hunting, no."

Charlie perked up a little. "Oh, yeah? What game? You use a rifle?"

"Deer mostly," I grumbled. And while it might have been amusingly masculine to tell him I hunted with my bare hands, I said that, yes, I used a rifle.

"Deer can be a little boring. It's bear season, now until December," Charlie offered. Wish…still hunted.

"That so?" I said, as if my blood-drinking proclivities had anything to do with what was in season. Glancing in annoyance at Alice one more time, I tried to guide the conversation back to safer places. "I spend most of my time on music, though. I'm a very quiet person—a bit like your daughter, I think." I smiled at the easy lie. "I just stay holed up in my house with my piano and dog."

I left out my most recent hobby: stalking his daughter.

"Quiet, huh?" A small smile lifted Charlie's face. Maybe not…bad after all. "Bells always had her nose in a book—some old-fashioned romance." He chuckled and coughed into his hand. There were tired circles under his eyes, and I could tell this one short outing had sapped his energy. He was hiding the worst of it for Bella's sake.

"Romance?" I asked, looking down at Bella in surprise. Her bookshelves in Port Angeles were filled with speculative fiction. Poetry collections were the closest she came to any romance.

Bella gave an uncomfortable, high-pitched laugh as she untangled her fingers from mine. I missed her warmth immediately.

She crossed her arms over her chest as a blush crept up to her ears. This time—for the first time—it didn't inspire venom, just sweet heat that started in my chest and pulsed outward. "I don't read those books anymore," she said, looking at all of us in turn. Though her face was alive in its redness, her eyes were coolly distant, protecting something.

What was she thinking?

"No, but you did read them." Charlie's expression was sad. Another image of a younger Bella surfaced in his thoughts. It was a softer version of the woman I knew, from what was clearly a softer time. Her remembered smile was shy, but brilliant nonetheless and certainly less troubled.

I longed for her to exist in a gentle world again, but I didn't know how I, of all creatures, could give her that.

The conversation ended in awkward silence.

I looked at Alice, curious if she knew the story behind Bella's reasons for giving up a whole genre of fiction. She shrugged. Let's just say that you're not the first supernatural element in Bella's life, even if she's not aware of the supernatural part of it.

I looked at her pointedly. Clearly, I wasn't the first supernatural being in her life, but what did Alice mean?

It's a long story—one you're not ready for. I was treated to cross-country weather reports, then.

Very helpful.

How was it that, even after last night, even after meeting her father, I was still clueless? The more I knew Bella, the less I really understood. Would she ever make sense to me?

Having given up on all human concoctions of the bovine variety, I suffered through grilled chicken, making it halfway through the lump of cooked meat before I felt like I might reproduce it on the table. It was going to be quite the devil to exorcise later, and I wouldn't have eaten so much, save that Bella was watching me closely, expectantly, the whole time. Alice thought that was hilarious and silently goaded me with each bite.

Tastes fowl, doesn't it?

"Oh, you're a real riot," I retorted in a low voice only we would hear. Nonetheless, I was beginning to think that she perhaps was harmless. Maybe. I still didn't like her being around Bella and Charlie, though.

Inedible mush and beer in my useless intestines aside, the lunch went well. I'd managed to sit through an entire hour of Alice's inner—and outer—peppiness and Charlie's questioning.

I would have been happy to stay longer, but Charlie became tired after eating. Bella insisted we leave shortly after doling out his next round of pain medication, all of which she had tucked away in her purse, like some mobile pharmacy.

Right before Alice was planning to rise from the booth, a bright flash of white light consumed all other thought. It strangely faded into a scene that looked down on our table. In it, Alice was standing as Charlie slid from the booth and fell, breaking his wrist on the way down. She'd had no means of catching him without moving at an inhuman speed.

Alice's eyes caught mine.

Another flash. This time Alice helped Charlie out of the booth. There was no fall, no broken wrist. We left to go back to Charlie's home, instead of the hospital.

Those are visions. As you can see, they're dependent on what I choose to do, Alice thought to me as she followed the path of the second vision, gripping Charlie's hand as he made to stand.

There was no fall, no broken wrist.

A psychic? Was it really possible?

I frowned as I thought of how she said she'd been waiting to meet me. I didn't like the thought of anyone looking into my personal life. There were some sins that I wasn't eager to confess to anyone.

"You're always so cold, kid," Charlie muttered in disapproval as he held Alice's hand. Not right… But he stayed holding on tight; he trusted her, even if his rational side tried to tell him to do otherwise.

"But you know I've got a warm heart," Alice countered cheerily.

Bella once again looked between Alice and me with narrowed eyes. She sighed and shook her head.

"Don't you want to go fishing, like we said we would?" Bella asked quietly once we'd made it back to Charlie's and Alice was in the kitchen, making tea.

"Think I'd rather just sit here," he said as he plopped down onto his recliner. "Maybe take a nap. Why don't you all head out for the night? Still got a bit of the weekend left."

Bella's brow furrowed. "But…"

Charlie interrupted her. "I'm tired, Bells."

"I can just sit here with you," she offered. "You don't have to be alone." That wrinkle was back between her brows; it was a sign of deep, worried thought.

I could tell from Charlie's thoughts that he wanted to be alone, though. In an odd sort of way, we were alike, in that we were both putting on masks for his daughter—and not doing a very good job of it. I played the part of a boy, when I was really an old, undead vampire; Charlie pretended he wasn't dying, when he knew he was. He felt it in everything he did.

"Bella?" I spoke softly, using a soothing tone that calmed humans. "Charlie'll be all right, I'm sure. Come on, I'll make sure you get home." I touched her shoulder. She was far too slender. I could easily feel her bones. Stress was eating away at her.

Bella surprised me as she pulled away from me. A fiery light flared in her eyes. "I don't need you to help me get home," she said. "In case you failed to notice, my car's right outside. This is our business. You just got here."

"I'll leave if you want me to," I whispered, meaning it, even if the thought pained me.

I certainly wouldn't go far, though, not with another vampire in their house—even if that vampire was stirring sugar into a cup of Earl Grey.

"I don't want that." Bella's face softened. "I'm sorry."

Charlie cleared his throat. "Well, I want you both to head out."

Alice came into the living room and handed the tea to Charlie. "We'll be off, then," she said, and then to my utter shock, leaned forward and kissed his head.

She turned and looked between Bella and me. "Nice meeting you, Edward." With that, her mind opened up, just a crack, to show me a point on a Washington map; the image changed, then, to show a series of turns through a nearby forest where a narrow back road existed. It led to a large white house with glass window walls on its southern side. It looked faintly similar to the house I'd just purchased from her family member. The elusive Cullen home,she thought with a smile. Come visit us sometime.

Bella and Alice embraced briefly, and then Alice Cullen left, taking her strange thoughts and absurdly yellow Porsche with her. No blood was spilled or drunk, and I was left questioning all I knew about my kind.

There were others like me.

I didn't have time to dwell on this revelation as Charlie began fighting with himself in his thoughts. He needed to have a coughing fit, but he was determined not to do it in front of Bella.

"We should go," I said to Bella, and she finally consented with a slow nod. I could tell from the way she bit her lip that she didn't want to leave him.

I smiled at Charlie. "It was nice meeting you, sir." I reached to shake his hand.

Damn…cold, he thought as our skin met. "Your hand's cold, too, dammit. You gonna give me the same excuse as Alice?" he asked dryly.

Behind me, Bella responded in a gentle voice. "I think his heart's just fine, Dad." I turned in time to see her lovely smile.

She saw good in me. It was baffling, but for the moment I accepted the idea. My heart certainly felt warm from her words, and it stayed that way the entire drive back to Port Angeles, even when I had to frustratingly go the speed limit behind Bella's car.

Author's Notes (September 12, 2010): Thanks to duskwatcher2153 for reining in my aimlessly floating paragraphs and to Aleeab4u for her encouragement. I think I'd really be panicking at this point in the story without these two!

Author's Notes (January 27, 2011): Cleaning house / editing.