Author's Notes (October 19, 2011): Hugs and sloppy kisses to the usual team, Aleeab4u, duskwatcher2153, GreatChemistry and smexy4smarties.

Chapter pic: bit(dot)ly/sotpm29-pic

Chapter music: bit(dot)ly/sotpm29-music

"SINS OF THE PIANO MAN"
CHAPTER 29: BLOOD SPILLED CLOSE TO HOME

Daylight is creeping. I feel it burn my face.
I don't sleep here no more, so my shadow walks in place of me.
Like candy, your eyes sweetly roll out of control.
Like the singer, alive, but just barely holding on.

"There's Been An Accident" by The Twilight Singers

EDWARD MASEN
It wasn't easy for Bella to commit to stay in her father's home for the next couple of days, but with her stubborn refusal to leave Washington, we had little choice in the matter. Returning to my home, where Maria had made herself welcome, certainly wasn't an option. As it was, I could only hope Maria didn't know of Charlie Swan's old home or that we were staying in it.

An hour had passed since we'd arrived. The Cullens and wolves would be halfway to Portland, searching in darkness for the telltale signs of our less civilized kind. And Jasper, I knew, would search for signs of Maria or Alice, hoping one would lead to the other. Though the fact that he was my maker still unnerved me, I understood his connection to Alice; his need for her was identical to my need for Bella. It was difficult to hold a grudge against one so similar to myself.

Despite my differences with the Cullens—and even after the surprise of discovering my maker was a part of their coven—I felt the absence of Carlisle, Esme and Alice more than I would have expected. I…missed them, even in spite of unresolved matters, and feared for their safety.

I was also aware of the vulnerable position their absence subjected Bella and me to, knowledge of which left me anxious. I found myself frequently sniffing the air of the room, stretching my mind reading ability to its limits in an effort to listen for suspicious thoughts, tuning my ears for snapping twigs in the distance or for car engines I didn't recognize as being from the area.

It was an impossible task, preparing oneself for the unexpected. Maria wasn't stable—she never had been—and she seemed less so each time I encountered her. At any moment, our circumstances could change according to her whims. Jasper had been right. Stay or go, Bella might be in danger.

Change her now, a part of me said, but I wouldn't let circumstance force her into this life. Not as Maria had forced Jasper, or as he had unwittingly forced me.

I wasn't the only one fretting. Beside me on an old couch that sank beneath our weight, Bella's heartbeat was erratic. The scent of adrenaline burned in my nostrils and down my throat, coaxing venom to the back of my mouth. In this case, I welcomed the sting and sickly sweet poison, for both meant she was alive and with me.

We were pretending to watch a movie, but nothing so banal can hold the attention of those dealing with disaster. On the television, a woman let out a melodramatic, high-pitched scream. It was too fake to cause alarm, but it did make me wonder at Bella's choice.

"Are you sure a zombie film is what you want to watch right now?" I asked skeptically.

Bella blinked up at me, as if she were coming out of a trance. "It's just some B-grade horror. They're using ketchup and—were the brains mushroom soup?" She laughed half-heartedly. "I think I can handle it."

"If you say so."

We watched as the woman on screen reloaded her shotgun. She stood against an army of zombies, seemingly the last survivor after her best friend had been torn to shreds by a horde clambering for her brains. I didn't much care for the scene or how our lives could easily mimic art. If such a film could indeed be considered art. That was debatable.

The sound of a truck roaring down the road in front of Charlie's house made Bella jump in concern. Though it was too dark for her to see outside, she looked at the window, her heart hammering.

"We're safe," I said in my most reassuring voice. I ran my fingers through her hair in an attempt to soothe her. "Relax."

She didn't, though—or, rather, couldn't. Distraction, that was what she needed—what we needed. I searched for a moment for something to say, something to clear the dour, nervous atmosphere. Finally, I smiled down at her. "The movie reminds me that I've decided I may need to reconsider my position on your acceptance of zombies and other assorted mythical creatures."

My words had the desired effect. Bella's mouth turned up in a tentative smile, and she sat back more comfortably. "Oh? I'm glad you've come to your senses."

"Well, it's more that arguing with you wouldn't be to my advantage. I'm personally fond of your absurd beliefs."

"You're not a monster, if that's what you're getting at," she said, rolling her eyes.

I'd done monstrous things, and I had little doubt I would again if it came down to Bella's safety. "I know I'm not a monster anymore," I answered, twirling a strand of her hair around my finger. "That's because of you."

"Don't discredit your own hard work," Bella said. Then she turned and kissed me softly, her lips upturned in a smile, her fingers threading through my hair. As I deepened the kiss, the fearful rhythm of her heart transformed into excited racing.

I loved her, distracted her, on the old plaid couch, all the while keeping a portion of my mind on the world outside, a world I hoped was not against us.

Carlisle called late in the night. Four newborns had been found. Locating them had been an all-too-simple matter of following a gruesome trail of cadavers and dried up drops of blood. There were more victims than the police knew about.

The Cullens had offered to help the newborns through their overwhelming struggles, but they were too far gone, too feral, after weeks or months with little more than the taste of human blood to guide them. Two refused help; the others were so far gone that their only response was to lash out and attack.

Distantly, I could sympathize with them—somewhat. It was only luck and my ability to read minds that had kept me in check during the first few years of my existence. In the beginning, there's such a feeling of power, a high. Even in moments when I'd despaired, I'd at times thought myself a god, too. It was frightening how intoxicating even the memory was. These newborns couldn't help themselves. And yet if they were unwilling or unable to learn some semblance of control, they had to be destroyed. Though it pained Carlisle and Esme in particular, all of the Cullens knew this, and all four newborns had been killed.

The world was perhaps a sadder place without the newborns' victims and the humans the newborns themselves had once been, but losing these warped mutations of their former selves… I could pity them, but not feel troubled for long. Bella's safety was my greatest concern and would remain so. I prayed a familiar prayer as she slept: If you're listening, keep her safe.

It was fortunate for us all that no humans had discovered anything near to the truth yet. Even if humans weren't likely to suspect supposedly mythological creatures, even if they were no match for our kind, exposure could still be dangerous. Judging by the police reports we'd read, authorities were alarmed enough by the number of deaths by exsanguination.

We lived the following day in a state of barely contained anxiety, where every unanticipated sound was more alarming than it should have been. A short trip to the local grocer was nearly crippling for both of us, bringing with it a feeling of exposure. The pressure and mounting worry didn't subside as the day went on.

Carlisle and Esme continued to phone with more information, adding equally to our hopes and concerns. Five newborns were killed. Then six. Seven and eight. Nine.

"How many do you think are left?" I asked Carlisle during the latest call. "I'm worried you won't be back in time for Maria."

"We'll be there, Edward, I promise. And we believe three remain here in Portland. And the Denali coven has actually been kind enough to visit Seattle without us. They've only found evidence of a few newborns there. It would appear that they either ran away…or killed each other. I suppose it's also possible Maria moved them all here at some point, only we haven't located them yet."

"So good news, perhaps," I said, nodding as I stared out the kitchen window, my eyes set on the forest and all its tiny, natural shifting. It was unnatural movement I was watching for, but was, as of yet, not seeing any evidence of.

On the other end, Carlisle cleared his throat, keeping up his human façade, as he always did. "There is one problem," he admitted.

"Struggling to keep the dogs on their leashes?" I asked dryly. I didn't see how they could be much help, anyhow. Wolves that size couldn't go running about a city; they'd only be able to help with those newborns who drifted to the wooded outskirts.

Carlisle sighed. "It's not the wolves. I'm afraid Jasper gave us the slip a few hours ago."

The news, though unwelcome, didn't come as a surprise. Having listened to Jasper's thoughts, I knew how hard it had been for him not to go searching for Alice from the start. "I see," I murmured. "He's after Maria?"

"He believes so, I think. He shouldn't go alone—he knows that as well as any of us—but it's Alice. We'd go, if we could. He did answer one of our calls, at least. He's told us to stick to our original plan, and Esme and I agree that the newborns should take priority. If Maria does have any control over them—directly or through some chain of command—it'd be unwise to leave them here for her. They could be used against him in a fight."

"Are they even stable enough to be commanded?" I asked. All the news from the Cullens suggested the newborns were aimless, at best.

"They don't…seem it."

I was believing less and less of Maria's story regarding the Volturi. It was a positive thought, overall, but then… "What is she doing with them?"

"At this point, we don't know. There doesn't seem to be a method to the madness, despite what she may have suggested."

"Carlisle?" I heard Esme call. "The wolves found something."

"I should go," Carlisle said. "We'll be back by dawn."

I ended the call and turned to Bella, who sat at the table we'd brought back into the kitchen for our impromptu stay. One of her legs was jumping up and down with her nervousness. She looked at me questioningly, her bottom lip tucked beneath her two front teeth. Sighing, I sat down with her and told her the latest news.

"He—he left them?" She was paler than usual.

I nodded. "It was killing him not to go after Alice." I squeezed her hand. "I would do the same thing if it were you." In fact, I was sure I wouldn't have been able to wait as Jasper had.

"But he can't just go off on his own! Not after Maria!" Bella stood abruptly, tearing her hand from mine as her eyes wildly searched the kitchen. Her heart took off at an alarming pace, the start of what I thought might be a panic attack. "I have to do something," she said, frantic.

I wrapped my hand around her elbow and pulled her back down to her seat. "Bella, calm down. I'm sure Jasper knows what he's doing." I wasn't sure of that, actually, but it seemed like the right thing to say to her. "His mind seems to be very rational. He won't get hurt."

"What about the rest of us?" she spluttered. "What about you?"

I frowned, not following her thought processes. As usual. "It's upsetting that he went out on his own," I agreed slowly, "but I don't believe he'll do anything rash, if that's what's concerning you. He may even find Maria and Alice."

While I'd believed that idea would calm Bella, I was sadly mistaken. She shook her head jerkily. "But that changes things…" She bit her lip again and turned wide, brown eyes on me.

I did my best to read between the lines of her words and body language, but I was at a loss. I held her wrist and ran my fingers along her pulse point, which twitched rapidly. Fine beads of sweat rose to her skin's surface. "Bella? Tell me what's going on. What has you so frightened?"

She was demonstrating classic signs of a panic attack. She was strong for a human, but she was only a human, and not meant to participate in the bloodthirsty world of vampires. Particularly when that world was going through one of its rare but violent changes.

Why now? I thought for the millionth time. Everything could have gone so differently, if only Maria hadn't bothered to show up for another year. Then again, one's past haunts according to its own timeline.

When it became obvious Bella wasn't going to answer me, I sighed and stood. "Come on," I said softly. "Let's get you a hot bath. Everything will be all right. I promise."

Please let me keep that promise.

Holding her trembling hands, I led her upstairs, where I ran hot water into the old tub. "Thank you," she whispered when she'd slipped into the waiting water. "I guess… Well, I'm just kinda afraid. Jasper going after Maria and Alice… I didn't see that coming."

"Perhaps Alice knows he's coming for her," I said with what I hoped was an encouraging smile.

Bella swallowed loudly. "Yeah, I hope she knows."

I left Bella to relax. There was nothing I could say if she was unwilling to speak of her fears; as it was, I was unsure of whether I could even console a human in a crisis such as this one. I was having a difficult enough time keeping myself together.

Our moments apart allowed me to walk the perimeter of the house to ensure no other vampire had set foot near us. It was unlikely they'd get past my mind reading, I supposed, but confirming it comforted me somewhat. It was very noisy in my head, after all. Someone could slip through the chaotic cracks.

I didn't like to consider that possibility.

Having found everything clear, I rounded back to the front of the house, noting as I did the tiny fissures visible in the house siding. We'd have to fix that when there was time. I nearly laughed at the absurdity. A vampire with no extra time?

In our stress, we'd neglected to gather up the daily newspaper during our one outing earlier in the day. Though encased in a thin orange bag, the Peninsula Daily News was damp from sitting in a puddle for several hours. I stood in the driveway, one ear tuned to the sound of bathwater lapping against Bella's skin, and carefully pulled the paper from the bag and unrolled it. The leading headline rooted me to the ground in shock.

PASTOR'S DAUGHTER, UW STUDENT FOUND DEAD IN HOME

I stared at the smeared, black ink, willing it to be false, for the letters to slip off the face of the paper into nothingness. These names weren't meant to be in obituaries yet. And yet here they were—worse, on the front page, because the people who owned them had been murdered last night. This was no accident. This was an attack. A targeted one, I feared.

Angela Weber and her fiancé, Ben Cheney, were found dead in the house Bella had been living in little over a month ago. Police were already concerned that their deaths might be related to the Portland and Seattle gang. They had no idea, really.

Nothing was written about Angela and Ben's unborn child. Leah Clearwater, who found the bodies, was reportedly distraught.

I'd stopped breathing. Bella would be devastated. Again. How could I even give her this news?

Death was not through with her, a notion that further chilled my temperate flesh. Bella was in danger as a direct result of my past behavior. It was my deepest fear, realized—again and again.

Setting my jaw, I rolled the paper up tightly, stuffing it in my back pocket, and returned to the house, casting one final glance onto the surrounding forest. Nothing was amiss here, but for how long? Were we being tracked somehow, in a way I was unaware of? Perhaps it was only a fluke that Angela and Ben had been murdered. Perhaps newborns weren't behind it at all.

But I didn't believe that.

I felt sick, a physically impossible but nonetheless real-seeming sensation. Bella could be in greater danger than I'd realized, and she had to know about her friend. I'd never been around Angela that much, only a time or two, but she'd had a tenderhearted mind and had cared for Bella. For those things alone, I mourned her. I'll compose for her, too, I promised myself and Bella.

My feet weighed by melancholy, I entered the house and ascended the stairs at a slow pace. I could lie, I thought. I could hide this from her. Protect her. I could take her away from this and never let her look back. I could do these things, but in the end, I decided I wouldn't. We were past lies.

"Bella," I called, knocking on the bathroom door. Her heart skipped a beat, but calmed quickly. It pained me to know I had stressful news. "May I come in?"

"Sure, I'm just getting out." I heard her pull the drain plug and stand. There was the sound of water droplets plinking as they fell from her body back into the water she stood in.

"Let me," I said, entering the small bathroom and grabbing the towel. I wrapped her in it, taking my time as I ran the cloth over her skin. "I love you, Bella."

"I love you, too," she whispered back. She was looking up at me, her brows pulled together. Thump-thump-thump, thump-thump-thump. "What's wrong?"

"You're too observant," I replied sadly, wanting to delay the news I was to deliver.

"No, I just know you." She shivered, and I let go of her, worried I was doing more harm than good with my touch. "Did…did Carlisle call?"

"No, it's not that. Why don't you get dressed first?"

When she was dried and dressed, and her long hair was pulled back into a wet ponytail, I took her to the room we were staying in—her old bedroom, for she couldn't stomach our staying in Charlie's. "Sit," I bade her, pushing her to the bed. I sat opposite her in an old rocking chair. I leaned forward and put a hand on her knee, not knowing how to begin.

"You're scaring me," she breathed.

I knew I was. I could smell it and see it in the tense lines of her body, and yet… How to deliver such news? Truth was all I could offer. "It's Angela and Ben," I said in as even and gentle of a tone as possible.

"What do you mean…Angela and Ben?"

"There's an article today… In the newspaper. Bella, I'm sorry." I was. More than she could know.

She was unnervingly still for a human in that moment. Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump. "Where's the paper?"

I hesitated, but then nodded, resigned, as I removed the newspaper from my back pocket and handed it to her. She took it and scrambled to unroll it again, her eyes swiftly scanning left to right. When she was finished, she looked up at me, her expression blank with shock. Her body saturated the room with the scent of adrenaline.

"I'm so sorry," I said again, shaking my head.

"It's all my fault."

"No, no. This has nothing to do with you." A small voice whispered in the back of my mind. You should have left her well enough alone. You've brought this upon her.

"It has everything to do with me!" she yelled, throwing the paper to the floor angrily. Tears streamed down her face. "That was my home, too! Angela and Ben didn't fucking do anything to deserve this." It was the unfairness that burned so deeply.

It was Charlie all over again.

"No, they didn't," I agreed. "But that doesn't make it your fault."

She stood, running her hands over her shirt, to straighten it, though it wasn't wrinkled. "I have to call their families. Say something. I have to—"

I stood and took her hand. "I'll help you. You're not alone." But she was grieving, and she was in grave danger.

As she composed herself and called the Webers and Cheneys, I sent a text message to Carlisle.

Come back ASAP. The newborns are here.

How close? Were they gone from Port Angeles? Were they in Forks? I listened with all my senses, but heard nothing amiss, other than the hard, burdened pumping of Bella's heart.

I knew grief and guilt. I'd had decades to intimately exist with both. Bella was young, however, younger than I sometimes remembered, and relatively inexperienced with these pains, even after Charlie. She felt loss acutely, as humans always do. We lay close in the double bed of her old room, a lone lamp casting light over her tear-stained face. She'd cried a long time, and the room smelled of salt.

"Do you think they suffered much?"

"No, it was quick," I said without hesitation, even though it might have been a lie. Whoever had killed Angela and Ben might have toyed with them first. Vampires thrilled at that, as it made the blood taste sweeter. But Bella didn't need to know this. If I could shelter her from one horror this day, I would.

"Is there anything I can do?" I asked, brushing hair from her face.

She stared at me for a long time, as if she hadn't heard me. "Are they near?"

"Who?"

"The newborns."

"I haven't heard anything out of the norm. Maria shouldn't know about your father's place." That was my hope, anyhow. "Still, I've told the Cullens to come back as soon as they can."

That had been three hours ago, and the sun had set. No returned call or message. I was worried about them and even more so about us. What would I do if we were attacked? Fight, if I could. Run with Bella, if I couldn't. If you're listening, please keep her safe.

"I think you should change me."

Bella's words pulled me out of my thoughts in one quick rush. I leaned up on one hand and looked down at her. "No way."

She frowned. "Why not? You want me to. I want to."

"Bella—"

"Hear me out," she interrupted. Awkwardly, she scrambled into a sitting position, crossing her legs before her. "They're here. The newborns. If they got Ang and Ben"—she choked on their names—"if they got them, they're here. And you know Maria's coming—probably tomorrow. I'm just a stupid liability."

"You are not stupid. And you'd be a liability as a newborn, too," I told her. "You wouldn't even change in time before her arrival. It takes three days." Long days of torment that I was reluctant to subject her to, regardless of how much I desired to have her join me in this life.

"What if the others don't get back in time, though? Wouldn't it be better for me to be…I don't know…in transition?"

Not having an answer, I sighed. Two schools of thought warred inside me. On the one hand, I didn't want Bella to be coerced into becoming a vampire, due to our circumstances; she might not be able to see it now, but there were parts of her human life that I doubted she was ready to relinquish. On the other hand, I knew that most vampires would have changed their mate as soon as the opportunity had presented itself. That was a thought I'd entertained many a night since falling in love.

Bella moved all of a sudden to straddle my lap. I raised my brows at her and rested my hands on her hips. "Change me," she said, her voice shaky but determined. Then she tilted her head back and to one side. So trusting.

I chuckled darkly. "You make it seem easy." Tasting her blood… For the first time in a long time, the monster within me rattled at his chains. "So you're ready now then?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

Bella gulped. "Yes."

I pressed my lips to her neck; I could feel the river of blood rushing beneath her thin layers of protection. Tongue touched to skin, I tasted sweat and the promise of her blood. Have her. She's offering herself to you. A gift. Take it.

I wouldn't drink much. A taste. Only a taste. Then I'd give her my venom. Only a taste…Then I'd make her mine. Forever.

For long, agonizing seconds I stayed still, too afraid to move, lest I do something one or both of us would regret. Finally, letting out a ragged breath, I kissed her skin and pulled away. The most precious of gifts should be treasured, not carelessly taken.

"Why?" she whispered, looking back at me. Tears hovered at the corners of her eyes.

"Because," I started, kissing her cheek, "you're making this decision under considerable stress."

"I'm not going to change my mind."

My, how our positions have changed. Less than a month ago, I'd believed she would never even want to be with me for the long haul. She hadn't even known what I was.

I smiled, my heart aching. "You don't know how much it means to hear you say that. And yet, I want your exit from your world to be…as peaceful as possible. This isn't the time, Bella. I want you to choose this out of love, not out of fear. After this is over—"

"There's always something, you know." I gave her a questioning look, and she elaborated, "I mean, there's always some reason to wait—to not act. I didn't see Charlie on Christmases, because I knew I'd see him in the summer. And I didn't move to Forks when I was sixteen, because I could just as easily do it when I was seventeen. And…I-I didn't keep up in touch with Ang like I should. There's always some reason not to do something."

"You have to admit that an army of newborn vampires is quite the reason, though, yes?"

She frowned.

"Soon," I promised. "For now, let's deal with one thing at a time."

But as I held Bella, listening for intruders and waiting for the Cullens to call, I imagined her as a vampire and fought the desire to take what she was offering. One day, there'd be no fear of being with her. Soon, I reminded myself. We only had to make it through this.