Chapter 8 – Better Left Unspoken

Perspective can be a very strange thing. Take, for example, distance. The space between point A and point B can be calculated in yards, time, or a number of other mathematical units, and is fixed, never changing. Introduce less finite, more abstract concepts, like emotions, and the predictability of distance goes out the window. Dreading something makes time move one way, anticipation the exact opposite.

Our drive up the winding path, to what I presumed to be the Cullen house, had originally felt like ten minutes, if not more. Walking back down the stone drive, I was surprised to realize that the house was no more than a mile and half from the road. I didn't know what I would do once I reached the highway, for I'd be focused solely on flight and self-preservation. It was easier to shut down my brain and walk away than stay in that clearing and listen to things that belonged in a book or movie script.

Things that, instinctively, deep down, I knew were all true.

It was insane and completely illogical, and therefore, the easiest way to deal with the situation was to try to forget the conversation. Use logic to disprove freakish strength and speed. Find some way to explain away the eyes and the skin tone and the strange relationships that shouldn't exist but did.

None of it was real. It couldn't be.

"Bella!" Charlie's cruiser followed slowly behind me, the tires crunching against stone. "Come on! Slow down and get in the car. You can't walk all the way back to Forks."

"Just watch me," I said, picking up my pace. I had no clue how far town was, and at the moment, I really didn't care. I was mad and confused and needed to get as far away from these people as possible. Alone I could handle; it was safe. That's what I needed, to get back
to the house and be alone. No one could disappoint me or manipulate me or lie to me that way. Alone was the one thing that wouldn't let me down.

"Isabelle Marie Swan," my father said sharply, "stop right there and get in the car. You are acting two, not twenty-two."

His tone, one of parental authority, made me pull up short. For my entire life, I'd been an equal with my mother. I was the responsible one, getting myself ready for school, reminding her to pay bills or getting things out for dinner. She'd never once had to call me out on my behavior or attitude, because not only did I never give it, I never required it. When Charlie used my full birth name and told me to stop acting like a child, he might as well have dumped a bucket of cold water over my head, for it immediately cooled me down to the point where I could think rationally.

Charlie didn't look at me when I climbed in the car. Like our drive out here, he kept his gaze focused straight ahead, navigating the winding path that led us back out to Highway 101.

We drove in silence, neither quite sure where to begin or who should say what first.

"I'm sorry that you had to find out like that, but explaining any other way would have made me sound like a lunatic," Charlie said as we passed the Forks city limits sign. "I had a similar reaction when my dad told me, you know. It was right after we broke the news that your mom was pregnant. I guess in hindsight, the context was a clincher."

"What do you mean?"

Charlie laughed, shaking his head wistfully at the memory.

"My parents were what you would call 'old school.' You get married, you settle down, you have a family. They pounded that into me big time, always talking about when I have a little girl and all that." He glanced quickly to his right, catching me in profile before turning back to the road. "No talk of boys, always a little girl. When your mom found out she was pregnant, she was hell bent on getting out of this town, of running free and seeing the world. But your Grandma Higgenbotham found the pregnancy test in the bathroom. Bet you can't guess who forgot to hide the box."

"That sounds like my mom," I said. She did it once to me too, when she and Phil first started dating. I'll never forget the white box with a brilliant blue plus sign staring up at me from the tiled floor. It had devastated me, the idea that she could think of bringing someone else into the world. It was like she had pushed me to the side, and was moving on to create a new life. "How she makes it through life sometimes I'll never understand. No one exists outside of her immediate field of vision."

"That's what sucked me in about her, you know? She was single-minded and selfish at times, but man could she make life exciting." Charlie took a deep breath before continuing on. "Anyway, your mom had plans, but our parents thought otherwise."

We pulled to a stop at a red light, waiting as a woman pushed a stroller across the street. A little boy trailed behind her, playing tag with his mother's shadow. Every time she moved, he'd jump, landing squarely in the middle of the dark form. As soon as he caught his balance he would be back in the light, jumping again, perfectly happy to repeat the cycle under the watchful eye of his mother.

"When our parents insisted that we get married, Renee balked," Charlie said, watching the little boy. The corners of his lips turned up into a gentle smile. "She tried to convince me to take her to Port Angeles to have an abortion. It was a half-hearted attempt -we both knew she would never go through with it. The minute she found out she was pregnant with you, she loved you, and she wanted to do everything she could to keep you safe."

I inhaled deeply, then released, letting the air leak slowly out of my lungs in the hopes the action would relax me. "I sense a 'but' coming."

"There's always one. Right after you were born, my dad took us to meet Carlisle. It was a few hours away from here – they didn't live in Forks then. This is the first time they have, actually, although they've always stayed close. Anyway, there was a display similar to yours-"

"Boulder and people throwing?" I asked sarcastically. My caustic retort was a defensive response that was difficult to suppress

"It was something more subtle, but just as shocking," Charlie answered cryptically. "There was no way to deny what they said, just like you can't deny what you saw today. As they explained the prophecy and the visions that go with them-"

"What visions?"

Charlie drummed his fingers on the steering wheel for a moment before continuing. "I can't tell you that part. I think you need to hear it from Carlisle. Let's just say that he knew, without a doubt, that the prophecy was about you. It spooked your mom. She wanted to take you and run, get you away from everything and let you have a chance at a normal life."

"And you?" I asked, curious.

"I saw the potential," he said slowly. "I was just as selfish as your mom was, just in a different way. We both wanted you safe and happy, but there were our lives to consider too. Renee didn't want the responsibility of being the mother to a potential savior. Me, I kind of liked the idea that my kid could make the world a better place. It's the one thing that every parent wants for their kid –to change the world, you know? Unfortunately we are talking something worse than a radioactive spider bite to make it happen."

"What, you never wanted me to marry a prince?" I asked sarcastically. "Save the world, get a crown, split the atom, is there anything else worth putting on the list?"

My attempt at a joke was lame, but it worked. Charlie laughed and shook his head.

"I wanted you to have a chance to explore, that's why I let you go without looking, Bella. I put on a front, making it look like I was searching for you, but it was half-hearted. It killed me to know that I would miss out on you growing up, but I knew that you would make your way back here when it was time. And when you came back, you would be comfortable with who you were and ready to assume your place. Unfortunately, things didn't quite turn out like I'd hoped."

Charlie's assessment stung, but I pushed it to the side, only capable of dealing with so much at one time. "So what he said back there-"

"Yeah, it's a lot to accept. Trust me, I get it, and I only supplied the ingredients, I'm not the actual cupcake," Charlie said glibly. "I can understand being spooked by it all. But think about it – all the good things you can do, all the people you can help. You have an opportunity other people will never have."

"But at what cost?" I countered. "I'm not some amazing person. I screw up my laundry. I don't always remember to balance my checkbook. I'm not the strongest person and I am not a leader. Carlisle inferred-" I couldn't even bring myself to say the words.

"You're also smart. It didn't matter how many times you moved schools, your grades were top notch. You didn't get in trouble. You have a strong sense of self lurking underneath all those smart alec comments, Bella. That can't be manufactured."

"How do you know those things?" I demanded. He'd said that he stopped looking, that he let me live my life. There was no way to know these things if he hadn't known where to find me.

"After Jasper came back from his visit, he stopped by with a full brief on you, something Rosalie had compiled. He told me that he'd found you, and that you might be coming here soon. He wanted to prepare me. He and I, well, he, Emmett and I, have formed a sort of healthy respect for each other, and I believe that he did it out of kindness."

"Or responsibility," I answered sharply, not wanting to accept any goodwill from people who'd spent the last few weeks lying to me. "This was all manufactured to get me back here, wasn't it? The trust, the stipulations −everyone was in on this, weren't they?"

Charlie sighed, and turned onto his street. My rental car sat in front of his house, a sedate, responsible, black four-door. That was me. Sedate, responsible. Maybe someone you would want on your side, but never a leader. If I were a chess piece, I would be the pawn, not the Queen.

"I know you've picked up on things around here, things you question, that don't make sense. Take some time, go home and cool off. Maybe even call your mother and get her side of things. Just don't make any snap decisions now," he said, putting the car in park. "Ask questions, pay attention, let this town show you what can be." He shot me a quick glance. "Maybe even get to know me. I missed you, Bella. Prophecy or no, I am glad you're back."

Ω Ω Ω

I managed to keep it together until I got back to the house. In the kitchen, I ransacked through drawers, tugging out can openers, measuring cups, and spatulas, but I couldn't find a corkscrew. Whoever had stocked the kitchen had supplied a nice array of red and white wine, labels I didn't recognize, but they'd not left me the necessary utensils to get the damn thing open. I grabbed one bottle at random and impatiently ripped the heavy foil off the neck, then wrapped a dishtowel around the pointy end of a screwdriver and forced the cork down into the bottle. When the cork did finally release, dark purple liquid splattered over the counter and my jeans, leaving a trail of drops that reminded me of a bloody rainfall.

There were wine glasses in the cabinet, older and dusty from disuse. I quickly rinsed one off and poured the wine into the bowl, not carrying if it sloshed over onto the counter. I needed something to shock my system, to help me calm me down. This was going to have to do.

"The blood of life," I said sarcastically, raising my glass in the air in mock toast. The wine was heavy, a deep oaky scent that shocked my taste buds. I took another long slow drink, staring out the window that looked over the backyard. There was a flicker of motion at the mouth of the path, just a shadow, but it broke the remaining thread of sanity I'd been holding on to. I crossed the room in long, fast strides, jerking the door open with my free hand.

"I know you're out there," I called into the backyard. The clouds had broken up, allowing the weak late afternoon sun to cast long shadows across the backyard. "Come on, I've got my blood. Why don't you come on over? We can have a party. Should be right up your alley."

There was no motion from the woods, but I knew better. They wouldn't leave me alone. One way or another, I hadn't really been alone since I had gotten to this godforsaken little town. There was no way they would let me be now.

"Stop being such a coward," I shouted at the trees. "You think I'm your queen, fine, then I order you to get out here. Stop being such a chicken shit." I threw my arms wide, the wine sloshing dangerously in the glass. "Olly olly oxen free!"

"This isn't like you."

I jumped, spilling wine on the wooden steps. Edward stood at my elbow, my elevation bringing us to eye level. He was dressed for the woods: heavy cargo pants, boots and a fleece pullover. Everything about him looked absolutely normal.

"You are living proof that appearances are deceiving," I said, taking a step backwards. The door had shut behind me, and the knob hit me squarely in the back, sending a shot of pain up my spine. I forced myself to ignore it – I would not show any signs of weakness, not around them. "So what were you, some elaborate ruse? A sweet distraction for lonely ole me while you kept lookout? Obviously you aren't as aww shucks as you pretended to be. Which is the real you, the one I met here or the one at the house that shouts and throws people around like sacks of potatoes?"

"What makes you think I was lying to you, Bella?" Edward moved slowly, climbing the first two wooden steps, his eyes focused on mine. I couldn't back up any further, the door solid against my back. One more step and he would be inside my personal bubble, too close and too damn confusing. "Did I tell you anything that wasn't true? Did I deceive you in anyway?"

"You didn't tell me what you are," I retorted.

"And you accept that now?"

"I don't know. Why, should I be scared?"

He laughed, not so much a sound but a breath, as he shook his head.

"Carlisle wasn't joking about the vegetarian bit, Bella. We don't consume…human blood."

It was my turn to laugh, and it came out like a bark. My cheeks were burning, both from Edward being so close to me, closer than he'd ever been, and the alcohol that I'd consumed too quickly on an empty stomach. "Is that like the TV show on cable? Is there some syndicate out there that makes synthetic blood for you? The tofu equivalent?"

"There is a reason we live so close to the woods," Edward countered, "Easy access for quick fixes. Kind of like you and this-"

He took the glass of wine out of my hand, tilting in the light so that the dark red liquid looked like blood.

"What did you call this, the blood of life?" Edward tilted the glass in the opposite direction. For some reason it didn't surprise me that he knew what I'd said in the house. I should have questioned it, but one would lead to another and another, and I wasn't sure if I was ready for that yet. "Do you know that the Bible actually references our kind? Lilith, Adam's first wife, was cast out of the Garden of Eden for expecting to be an equal. I find it ironic that a religion that teaches forgiveness and offers it up via wine-" he slowly held the glass up, mimicking the motions of a priest offering the sacrament, "would also be one of the primary perpetuators of the mythology of vampires."

"I highly doubt there is synchronicity in the symbolism," I said, refusing to be cowed by his comments. "People put too much stock in words. They can be twisted, made to mean anything. It's why there is so much debate over the symbolism of blood and wine. People will believe what they want to believe, and that is what makes something real or not. Seeing, faith, those are the things that make it real, not religious dogma."

"Kind of like vampires and prophecies," Edward countered, trying not to smile.

He'd argued me into a corner, and to refute him would basically be agreeing with the point I'd been trying to deny. I'd watched as he and Emmett had accomplished feats of strength not humanly possible. My father believed, without a shred of a doubt, that this convoluted prophecy was true. Where did the answers lie? In faith? In reality? Or was it a strange blend of the two?

"So what was real?" I demanded, redirecting the subject back to safer grounds. Ironic in a way, that I thought toying with my heart was more acceptable than toying with my head, even if the two were related.

"Everything, Bella. Everything was real. How can you doubt that?"

"Well, up until a few hours ago, I would have sworn that vampires weren't real. Do you really want me questioning my logic?"

He sighed, passing the glass of wine back to me. It was cold, the wine having dropped to the territory of a chilled white.

"Red wine is meant to be consumed at room temperature – not borderline frozen," I said, slipping my free hand behind me to open the door. "I am going to get some more. Do you need…" I hesitated, not quite sure how to frame out the question. "Well, I am not going to be the polite hostess and offer you something to drink, because I am rather attached to my bodily fluids and I don't have a pet. Is there anything special I have to do?"

"You mean do I need to be invited in?" Edward asked, smiling. "No, and I've been in your house before, therefore if you buy into that-"

"Enough," I said, cutting him off. "I am not sure I'm ready for a thorough dissection of what is real and what isn't. I just want to know that I'm going to be okay."

"I will never hurt you," Edward said quickly. "As for whether you will be okay, that fundamentally is your decision."

"If I do invite you in, you are going to answer my questions, right?"

Edward nodded, his eyes wide as if an innocent expression would make him appear more earnest.

"And you will answer my questions – no pulling punches or dancing around the subject."

"I would never-"

"Hurt me, yeah, I got that." I pushed open the door, stepping back into the kitchen. There was just enough space for Edward to slip by. "Well, I guess I have at least one mystery solved."

"What's that?" he asked, truly curious.

"When Jasper came to see me in Phoenix, his hands were warm. He used the coffee cup to warm them up. That's why the cup was ice cold when he finished with it."

"You don't miss anything, do you?"

"That's up for debate," I said, pushing the door shut. "I have questions, and I expect you to answer them. If you won't, then you can leave and I'll call Rosalie. If she won't answer them, then I am calling my mother, and I am going to Jacksonville."

Edward cocked his head to the side, as if surprised by my declaration. "You would go to her after she lied to you?"

"She lied to me, but I understand why now. I don't agree with some of the things she did, but it couldn't have been much of a life for her either, running from town to town, stuck in the desert because she thought it would be safer for me. I somehow doubt that is what she wanted."

"Why do you say that?" He started to prowl slowly around the kitchen, lifting items and turning them over for inspection. A ceramic mug left in the drainer, an apple on the counter. I'd always put things away in Phoenix, everything in its place. For some reason, I hadn't done that here. Maybe it was the need to leave my mark or make this place my own, I'm not sure. His scrutiny of items I'd touched was unnerving, and I had to keep reminding myself that this was not a date, and this was not a normal man. He could kill me in a heartbeat, and there probably wasn't a whole lot I could do to stop him.

I wasn't sure exactly how to feel about that, which scared me more than his actual presence.

"I always resented Phil," I said, dredging up memories that had been painful for an insecure teenage girl. Today's events had shed and entirely different light on it all. "She was so happy with him, full of life and laughter. When they got married, and then decided to move to Jacksonville, I felt like I'd been abandoned."

"Why is that?"

I took another sip of my wine, letting the alcohol warm my body and take an edge of painful memories. "Because she left me on my own. I never stopped to consider that she never had a chance at a normal life either. She spent years running and protecting me. Yes, I missed out on things, but she did too. Maybe that's why she latched onto Phil the way she did, letting me go when she thought everything was okay, and pursuing her own life. If she thought I was safe, maybe she felt okay leaving me in Phoenix sunshine." I glanced down at Edward's hand, the cuff of his fleece pulled down over his wrist so that just the back of his hand and knuckles were visible. "She never took into account that there are ways to camouflage, even in the sun."

"The brighter the light, the longer the shadow," Edward responded.

"I told you I want answers," I said, leaning back against the counter. "I meant that. What is it that you expect of me?"

Edward placed the apple back on the counter, but didn't look up at me. "There will be a group convened in the next few days. You will meet them, and they will discuss that with you."

"What group?"

A muscle in Edward's jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth together. "A council, so to speak."

"Are they all like you?"

It took him a long time to respond. "Not all of them. Some have red eyes. They drink human blood."

Red and gold. Well, there was one answer down.

"Why is everyone here so young, Edward? I've not seen anyone that looks older than sixty."

He laughed, shaking his head again. "Sixty is the new forty, Bella. People look younger than they used to. Especially if they take good care of themselves –follow their doctor's instructions."

"What, is Carlisle conducting experiments on the town?" I asked, only half joking.

"No, nothing like that. He simply makes better recommendations than most. People are healthier, live a bit longer, and when it's their time - " he broke off, his fingers drumming on the counter. "When it's time they either die of nature causes, or have an option to go quickly and painlessly."

"You kill them?"

"We don't, no," Edward answered quickly. "There are others of our kind, who provide options for the elderly or pursue the truly malevolent forces in our society. We provide a function that modern medicine and the legal system are opposed to."

"A function…" I let the world trail off, not sure I understood what Edward meant.

"Dignity," was his only answer.

My jaw dropped open, my mouth forming a silent O of understanding and shock. Assisted suicide, euthanasia, murder, call it what you will, the simple fact of the matter, the lack of elderly people in the town was not a fluke. They were overly happy and healthy, and then they were gone. Simple as that.

"Don't act so shocked, Bella," Edward said. "This town has everything. Good schools, the best healthcare, no crime. It's a perfect application of everything we can do. Most of the people in this town aren't aware of who we are or what we do. They simply know that everything they need is right here. We've helped them create a better life, and when it's time, a painless, dignified death. Isn't that worth something?"

"I don't know," I said, my voice shaking as much as my hand as I sat the wine glass down in the sink too hard. The base slammed into the porcelain, and the stem snapped in two. I dropped the glass, and then instinctively reached for the shards, wanting to clear them away before they slipped down into the drain.

"Don't touch that!" Edward was in front of me, pushing me away from the sink. "For someone so smart you can be so stupid. Do you really think that my will power around you is that strong? You're in a room with a vampire and you want to handle broken glass-"

He picked up a piece, the base of the shattered stem jagged in the overhead light. "Just one drop is all it would take. Do you not realize how hard it is to resist you?" He squeezed his hand around the shard, and I watched in horror as the glass literally disintegrated - the solid mass suddenly a shower of fine dust.

Edward spun to face me, his eyes wide and a bit frenzied. "No, you don't realize. And yes, it was all real." He stalked towards me, slowly, his eyes filled with a burning light. "You are not the only one who is pre-ordained for things, you know. We all have roles to play, our little parts were cast in this grand drama of yours years ago."

I'd quickly stepped away from him, shocked by the vehemence of his words, but the kitchen table blocked my exit. Edward was back within my personal bubble, closer now than he had been before, his jaw locked as he stared down at me.

"You said the other night that you've spent your whole life trying to figure out where you fit. Imagine it being flipped, Bella. Imagine knowing exactly what your life will be, and you are completely helpless to stop it. Which torment do you think is better?"

He grasped my wrist, gently raising my hand to heart level.

"I will give you my obedience, because you will be the queen of us all," he said, bending his head. When his lips brushed the back of my hand, they were ice cold and hard. Then, just as quickly, he flipped it over, so that my palm was face up. "But I will not go down without a fight, no matter how much you intend on torturing me."

His lips were cold against my palm, the kiss longer than the one he'd placed on the back of my hand.

"Goodnight, Bella. You will be safe here." Edward released my hand, and was out the door before I could say another word. The curtains on the small window swung back and forth with the force of the closure.

I clutched my hand against my chest as my blood sang through my body, lighting me on fire. The first kiss had been a commitment, a promise to follow. The second had been entirely different, a challenge thrown down by a man who would not be constrained by who I was supposed to be. Someone who wanted to be my equal, who challenged me where no one else had.

Throwing the bolt on the door, I walked blindly into the living room, and lit the fire I'd built earlier in the day. As it flickered to life, I wrapped myself in a blanket, recalling the strange conversation in the kitchen, realizing that, while I had been shocked, I'd never been scared, and that when Edward kissed my palm, I finally felt like I was home.

The fire in his eyes hadn't been of thirst for my blood. Maybe that had been part of it, but there was something more, something I obviously didn't know, but would find out very soon.