A/N's: I know a lot of you are quite worried about what will happen in this chapter. Read it from behind a pillow, or holding someone's hand if you want too, but please do read it. Things may or may not happen as you think them too.......

Many, many thanks to my Beta AcrossTheSkyInStars for always doing an awesome job, for making me feel great about my fic and for letting me bounce ideas of her. Go and check out her fic "Forgive me, please" it's beautifully angst!

All my love to Malmo722, inside the disarray, into scrapes and AcrossTheSkyInStars, you guys rock!

Disclaimer: Stephenie owns them, I just play with them!

Ch7 Empty

I never would've dreamt it was possible to fall asleep when suspended by chains, for they were digging into the tender flesh around my wrists, my arms straining whilst holding up my body weight, but I did.

However, I didn't sleep well; that was impossible.

I was aching, cold and standing. Each time I slipped into a state of unconsciousness, my nodding head would lurch forward, awakening me. And each time this happened the first thing I did was frantically look over at Edward's cell, searching the small space for his presence.

I desperately needed to talk to him. I needed to know what had happened with Emmett.

I recalled both Rosalie's and Edward's words. Remembering how she had teetered on the brink of madness, inconsolable over her wretched need to find the decomposing corpse of her husband. In her moment of despair I had understood Rosalie; I had empathised with her hope, her denial, and her anger. To love someone so deeply and be told they had died – not in peace but in a violent attack – was simply soul destroying, and that's what I had witnessed when she stood before me; hands filthy with debris from the forest floor.

A vacant soul.

Edward had confessed to drinking human blood but I didn't want to believe he had been akin to Emmett's demise. Everything I had come to know about this man was pure and kind. I couldn't bear to think that I was wrong.

I needed to talk to him and ask him what had happened. I was scared to hear his truth but I needed to know.

I glanced back over at his cell.

Empty.

I had no idea where he had gone. Had the guards taken him upon James's command? Were they torturing him over and over again, trying to tempt him with the spilled blood of feeble men, women, and children? Edward had maintained his willpower up until now, but he was starving and weakened, and I wondered how much longer he could possibly sustain.

But a small part of me also contemplated the possibility that Edward had escaped. Had he been given an opportunity and taken it, fleeing the cell, the prison, and all that dwelled here, including me?

I was feeling such mixed emotions with the idea that he had left me. If he had gone I was elated he would no longer be chained and bound, struggling with his inner demons and being coerced into assisting James with his evil, twisted plans.

But if the guards came here and had their wicked way with me, and Edward was indeed gone, then I surrendered. I had nothing left in me to fight with, nothing worth holding on for. My body was just a shell, after all, and they would never take from me what really mattered; my heart and my soul. No, they had already been claimed by my Vampire.

Edward had been my one true constant throughout my own ordeal, and without him I didn't know how I was going to get through another day. If he admitted his part in Emmett's death and it was what I had been dreading, that, too, would break me. I was in despair.

My eyes burned, and I ached to rub them and clear the dried tears I had shed.

I shifted my stance slightly, trying desperately to ease the chaffing against my skin. The wrist cuffs were metal and their thick edges unforgiving. I had given up trying to wriggle free hours ago when the sharp edge of one of the cuffs dug into my flesh and sliced it open. It wasn't deep and it wasn't very painful, just a slight sting to remind me of its presence. But it did bleed slightly, leaving a slither of red trailing down my inner forearm.

The breeze through the tiny window was strong and blew over me. I was numb and no longer able to feel my feet.

I felt myself drift off to sleep again, exhausted from my continuous battle and never-ending wait.

XxX

The distant sound of voices swept over me and I quickly found consciousness, looking over at the corridor not knowing who would enter. It sounded like an argument but the voices were hushed; I couldn't make out their words.

I looked over at the cell next door to mine, it was still empty.

The voices faded and I let out my breath, not realising I had been holding it. If this was going to happen I just wished it would be over with. I prayed for time to spin by and for it to be tomorrow already.

I felt the prickle of tears, and unable to stop them, I let them fall. There was nothing else I could do but cry.

Silently I begged for something or someone to help me.

XxX

A gentle caress tickled my collarbone and I stiffened under its touch. I had slept again and not heard the arrival of whoever was in my cell. My head was bowed forward and I opened my eyes to see a pair of booted feet standing in front of me.

I felt their hand drop from my neck to my breast and they tentatively drew an outline across my skin with their fingertip.

I shuddered and bit my lip to keep from screaming. I didn't want to give them the satisfaction but I couldn't stop my tears.

Their touch was hardly rough or threatening, but it was unwelcome, and as they circled my nipple I couldn't bare it any longer.

"Please stop," I whispered, my sobs interrupting my words.

The person touching me shifted and I felt warmth around my shoulders and back. Startled I looked up and into the eyes of Michael.

"Cold," he mumbled as he pulled a blanket closer around me. It wasn't long enough to reach my legs but it covered the most important parts and gave me back some dignity. My raised arms prevented it from surrounding me completely but I was so grateful for the warmth it offered.

"Thank you," I cried wishing I could fling my arms around him and hug him tight. He stepped away from me and sat on the bunk. He didn't say anything else. "You're back," I pointed out the obvious.

He nodded.

"Where did you go?"

He didn't reply.

"Did they treat you ok?"

To my relief he lifted his eyes to mine and nodded again. "Help," he said.

I didn't know if it was a request or a statement. So I just nodded too, "Yes, thank you," indicating the blanket he'd given me.

He shook his head, "Help," and indicated the cell door.

Mary Alice stood there, her hands clutched tightly in front of her, her cheeks wet with tears. He'd brought me help.

"Oh Isabella," she sobbed as she half-ran and half-stumbled towards me. I cried too, so happy to see a friendly face again.

"Oh Mary Alice, Mary Alice."

"What have they done to you?"

I shook my head, "Nothing, yet. But it's only a matter of time."

She grabbed my face and brushed away my tears with her thumbs, her hand cupping my jaw. "I'm going to get you out of here," she promised me, looking me square in the eye.

"Mary Alice, you can't put yourself in danger like that," I shook my head at her, "please don't do anything – stupid."

"I can't leave you here!" She cried. "I have to do something." She looked around frantically. I had no idea what for. Giving up she reached out and struggled to release the cuffs on my wrists.

"It's no good," I said but she wouldn't be told.

"Wait here." She ran out the door and down the corridor. I laughed despite my situation. Where did she think I would go?

She came back and with her was Hale. They entered my cell and Hale fidgeted, looking uncomfortable.

Mary Alice turned back to him. "See what he's done to her? Your precious Captain is a Monster. How can you follow him and allow this to happen and hope to hold onto your conscience?"

"Mary Alice, you don't know what you ask of me."

I got the feeling this was the middle of a conversation and not the start of one and I thought back to the voices I'd heard earlier.

Stepping forward Mary Alice pressed her hands against his chest. "Please, Jasper, I've known you since I was 5 years old. You're a good man. Please, please don't stand back and let this happen to her." Tears filled her eyes and she let them fall unabashed, clear for him to see. "If you do, I don't think I could ever look at you the same way again."

Hale's brow creased as he considered her words. He looked tortured by the thought of her disdain. Reaching out he swept his finger across her cheek. Mary Alice was tiny compared to his towering frame, and as he touched her she raised herself up on tiptoe, instinctively seeking closeness.

"Please," she tried again.

Hale closed his eyes and sighed. "Ok."

"Really?"

He nodded.

"What about you? What will happen if James finds out?"

"Don't worry about me; I can take care of myself. But you'll have to leave. You have to run, Mary Alice, both of you. Far away from here and keep going. If you come back, he'll kill you."

"I can't leave, my family are here."

"Mary Alice, you asked me to help and I agreed, but it's at a price. You have to do as I say."

"No," she stepped back, dropping her hands.

"Mary Alice," I stuttered, "What are you saying?" I'd had a glimpse of hope and now it was disappearing. Fast.

"There has to be another way," she turned to face me, "We could tell him that you were sick and we had to release you."

"He'll speak to his surgeon," Hale interrupted.

"Who's my father and I'll speak to him first."

"You're involving too many people."

"He's my father," she said softly, "Do you think he'd be happy if I left without saying goodbye, without knowing if I'll ever see him again? Don't you think he'd want to help, Jasper? Like you, he's also a good man."

"I wish there was another way." He was defeated.

I cried with relief as he unlocked my chains. My legs were numb from the cold and from standing for so long; falling to my knees I rubbed at my wrists and shuddered. "Thank you, thank you all – so much. Thank you."

Mary Alice wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tightly.

Pausing briefly, Hale encircled her tiny frame in his, his arms and chest encompassing her. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek on the top of her head.

"Thank you, Jasper," she said.

With his finger he lifted her chin and looking deep into her eyes, he answered, "Anytime."

Letting each other go, Hale leant down, and placing a hand under my arm, he helped me to my feet.

XxX

They took me to see Mary Alice's father. He had treated me before and I was happy for him to examine me again. As he washed his hands, Mary Alice went to fetch me some clothing, the blanket was warm but not substantial.

"Isabella," Carlisle greeted me. "Tell me what happened."

I felt comfortable with this man; on our first meeting he'd cleaned up my wounds and introduced me to Mary Alice. He'd told me I could trust her and she had helped me. But saying out loud what had happened to me was just too much and I started to cry; hard, uncontrollable sobs that shook my body and left me fighting for air.

Placing his hand on my head, he soothed me with words I couldn't hear.

Mary Alice came back in the room holding a dress, petticoats and underwear; glancing between Carlisle and me, she put them down and left.

Eventually my crying ceased and I sat gulping in air and tried to calm down enough to speak. Carlisle handed me the clothing and gave me the privacy I needed to get dressed.

When he came back I felt more able to tell him all the sordid details of my evening in James's rooms. I spoke of how he had sent for me again days after and had become violent with Rosalie and me. I confessed to how much he terrified me and his confession to wanting complete domination.

I didn't know how much Carlisle knew about Edward so I left that part out. But Carlisle surprised me.

"And he expects Edward to help him." It wasn't a question. "He wants to create some sort of Vampire army." He shook his head in disbelief. "That man is out of control."

"You know about Edward?" I whispered.

Carlisle stood and walked across the room. He turned his back to me and stared out of the window, watching the breeze dance across the trees; bending them to its will.

"Yes," he eventually answered. Hanging his head he sighed.

"Carlisle, what is it?" I stood and walked over to him, placing my hand on his back I waited.

"He really is an amazing creature."

"Creature?" I repeated. "He's more of a man than any of these animals I've met in here!"

Carlisle turned to me. "I'm sorry I didn't mean any insult to him. But he really does fascinate me. The more time I spend with him –"

"You spend time with Edward?"

Carlisle stopped and shifted, lowering his eyes from mine but not before I noticed a look of guilt cross his features.

"James's is an evil man, Isabella."

"I know."

Turning back towards to window, Carlisle continued. "Did you know he's tortured Edward for over a year? That he whipped and stabbed men in front of him, just waiting for the smell of their blood to unleash his – baser instinct?"

I shook my head.

"It was unthinkable – the things he did to tempt him, but he – he always resisted."

I listened without interruption. His voice held sadness, awe even, and it was another way for me to know Edward.

"I didn't understand at first why Edward had allowed himself to be imprisoned. He has a strength and ability that no man can ever hope to obtain, not without dying first, of course. But he did allow it. There seemed to be no fight left in him anymore and I would watch as James demeaned him, threatening him with things that a Vampire shouldn't really fear." Carlisle shrugged. "I don't know what hold he has over him. But whatever it was, it worked. They had him imprisoned but that was all Edward gave him – his freedom, never his will."

I pictured Edward being taken without a struggle, the guards holding him and binding him; James making his plans, hurting Edward all for his own selfish means.

I truly hated him.

"Edward hasn't been fed since that first night he came here. Vampires can't starve, or so he's told me, but they can suffer. He grows weaker and yet he still resists whatever they throw at him."

I cried silent tears as I listened to Carlisle. My poor Edward; strong in will but weak in stature.

"He told me he had found a new reason to live."

I looked into Carlisle's eyes needing to hear more.

"That's you, Isabella."

I nodded. I knew I had I reignited something deep inside of Edward like he had with me, but I still needed to hear it.

"Before they – well he seemed – determined – hopeful even – he surprised me yesterday –"

"You've seen Edward?" I asked.

Carlisle nodded. "Edward is in a holding cell, below in the dungeons."

"What?" I rushed at Carlisle, clutching his shirt. "What is he doing there? What are they doing to him?"

"Bleeding him."

I stared at Carlisle, uncomprehending what this meant. "I don't understand?"

"Edward has been – cut – severely – and drained." His eyes clouded over, and pressing the palms of his hands into his sockets he rubbed; I wasn't sure if the motion was to cease his tears or an attempt to obliterate the images in his mind.

Why?" I cried. This was all too much.

"He grows weak from hunger Isabella, but to drain him of all of his life's blood, his venom; his essence, well that would just leave him – empty. James knows he can't get what he wants from Edward but he also can't let him go. This is his – punishment, for not complying."

"You need to go to him, Carlisle, you need to go to Edward and tell him to do it, just do what James wants. We can't let this happen –"

"You can't ask him to betray himself, Isabella. Don't you get it?" Carlisle spun me round to face him, gripping my shoulders tightly, he shook me. "Don't you understand what he's been through already? How he's suffered, and you ask him to just – give in?"

I shook my head, frantically. "I don't mean it like that, I just can't – I won't – he needs to –"

Carlisle pulled me to his chest and brushed his hand against my hair, soothing me, calming me. But I could feel his heart racing beneath his ribcage and it belied his composure.

"How could they do this to him?" I sobbed.

Carlisle didn't answer. He rubbed at my back and moved us both slowly from side to side; rocking me in his arms. It reminded me of my father and how he would rock me to sleep at night, chasing away my nightmares.

"Who are they?" I asked again.

He stopped moving and stilled his hands, his voice cracked as he spoke. "Not they, Isabella –"

I pulled away from him and looked up at his face. I didn't know how but I knew what he was about to say and it filled me with dread.

I stepped away from him, his eyes never left mine. To give him his due, he looked aggrieved.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head slowly.

"I'm so sorry," he said softly.

"You?" I lifted a shaking finger and pointed at him, as if there could be any mistake as to whom I was referring. I spat at him, my saliva hitting his face. He closed his eyes but didn't move. He just remained stoic as I charged at him, pummelling him with my fists. "How could you? How could you?"

Could I trust no one?

"You don't understand." He tried to push me away, but I kept coming back at him. Wanting to hurt him like he hurt Edward; like he'd hurt me.

He grabbed my wrists and held me, the pressure from his fingers catching the cuff mark, and as I twisted in his grasp it split and started to bleed again. We both ignored it, too angry, too anguished to notice.

"You don't understand," he cried, "I had no choice!"

"I don't care, I don't care!" I screamed.

"Isabella!" He shook me; my hair fell over my face and eyes and I blinked up at him from beneath it.

"Will you listen?"

I breathed hard, breathless from my attack. Did I want to hear his excuses?

Finally I nodded and he released me. Walking over to a chair he sat, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

"He has my wife." He stared at his hands. "He took her and told me if I didn't do what he wanted, Esme would be – Esme would become one of his – concubines."

He had my attention.

"The night they captured Edward and brought him here, they came for me and Esme. James told me what Edward was and that he needed him weak, so that he would eventually do what James wanted. He didn't say what it was he really wanted from Edward and I didn't ask. In truth, Isabella, I didn't want to know, I only cared about my family, my wife and daughter, and I've seen James's women. Just look at Rosalie, a broken shell now but once," he stood and walked over to the fireplace, "once she was vibrant. So alive."

"You know Rosalie?" I asked quietly.

He nodded. "And her husband."

"Do you know what happened to him?"

"Edward," was all he said.

"No Carlisle, do you know what really happened to him?"

He turned to face me. "You don't think Edward...?"

"The truth? I don't know, but I do know it doesn't seem right. I can't ask him because he's not here."

Carlisle looked away guiltily. "I only know what I've been told," he said.

"And what's that exactly?" I demanded.

"That Edward bit him and drank his blood and they had no choice but to kill him. They buried him in the woods."

I covered my ears; I couldn't bear to hear it again.

Carlisle carried on talking, his voice muffled by my hands but I could still hear him.

"I haven't seen Esme in a year, Isabella. In truth I don't even know if she's still alive. James tells me she is, but what do I really know?"

"Then why continue to help him?"

"Because I have no choice! Until I see her; hold her cold, lifeless body in my arms I have to believe there's hope. I can't give up on her and I'll do whatever I must to save her. I won't hesitate."

"No, you won't will you? And you haven't! You cut and drained a man –"

"A Vampire," he corrected me.

"A Man," I repeated. "You've drained him and you don't even care!"

"I may not have any choice, but I do have a conscience, Isabella. I do care, and I suffer."

"I pity you." He looked away from me. "And I pity your daughter!"

He looked back at me. "Mary Alice?" He asked. "Why?"

"Because she has you for her father."

"I'm a good man," he tried.

"Then prove it!"

"How?"

"Take me to Edward."

He shook his head. "I can't do that."

"Carlisle, I have been chained, naked and cold, waiting for men to come and rape me. Your wife has been taken and Rosalie has lost her husband, her daughter, and her sanity. Edward lies drained and weak somewhere; all at James's command! How many people does he have to destroy before you do something?"

"What can I do?" He demanded stabbing his finger into his chest.

"Take me to Edward."

"I can't take a chance on losing Esme."

I walked over to him and I took his hand. "But you've already lost her."

My words were harsh, I knew this but I also needed him to help me. "I don't know your wife, Carlisle, but I know you and I know your daughter and you've both been kind to me. I'm sorry for what I said to you but it's the truth. Esme isn't here; she may never be here again." Carlisle looked away, blinking to stop his tears. "But we are. Edward, Mary Alice, me – and we all need you to help us.

"Take me to Edward. Then take me back to my cell and when James asks why I'm unchained tell him I was sick and needed you. Convince him Carlisle, whatever it takes."

I watched as he walked over to a dresser, and picking up keys he walked towards the door. He opened it and exited, not speaking to me nor indicating that I should follow. I did anyway.

We walked down a spiral staircase, shrouded completely by high stone walls. The steps were steep and I had to clutch at the cold wall to steady myself. The sparse light of torches scattered every twenty steps or so did nothing to ease my trepidation.

As we descended deeper and deeper into the shadows, the air became icy and I shivered, unable to rub at my arms in a bid to take off the chill as I was still trying to stop from falling.

We finally reached the foot of the steps. Before us was a wrought iron door, the space between the door and the steps only enough for two people. It was the only room and the stairs behind us the only exit.

Carlisle placed the key in the lock and spent what felt like a lifetime unlocking it. When he eventually pulled it open I dashed past him inside and was stopped short by the sight before me.

The room was cast in shadow, barely lit by four large candles placed in the wall sconces. There was a table sitting in the centre of the room, and on that table was Edward.

He was naked from the waist up and his feet were bare. His skin, always pale, now looked blue. The veins that once held his life force protruded at the surface. His arms were by his sides, palms up, and inserted into both forearms were tubes which trailed down his sides into slats in the floor. The tubes were stained with a dark, thick substance.

Edward's blood.

His chest and ribs held four slashes which stretched the entire length of his torso. The wounds were deep and gaping, but bloodless. I walked over to him and stared at the open cuts. If I hadn't known he was a Vampire I'd have believed him dead.

He was barren.

Lifeless.

Desolate.

"Edward," I whispered, touching his skin softly, scared of causing him more pain. My touch would never have hurt him, even if he had been at full strength, but my addled brain couldn't comprehend.

His eyes were half-open, staring into nothing.

Edward's eyes had always been dark, since the first moment I'd ever saw him, but they also held life. Now the blackness was flat and listless. His light was gone.

"What have you done?" I asked Carlisle as I stroked my hand down Edward's chest.

Taking his face in my hands I turned him towards me, bending I pressed my lips to his.

They were cold and unmoving.

Had he known yesterday that this was to be his fate?

Bella today meant everything to me. Take the memory of it with you. I hope it helps you as much as it helps me

Had he known?

I sobbed against his mouth, letting my tears fall onto his face as I held him.

Had he known?

"Come away," Carlisle beckoned from the door. His voice cracked and I knew the sight of Edward tormented him.

He had done this.

I shook my head. I never wanted to leave his side again.

"Edward," I cooed again, kissing his cheeks, his nose and his forehead. I missed his frown. Despite the horror of what had happened to him, he looked peaceful.

I ran my hand over the contours of his face, praying my touch would help him in any small way.

As my hand passed his mouth I noticed a flicker. It was so slight I thought I'd imagined it or was fooled by the glimmering candlelight.

But feeling hope I passed my bloody wrist under his nose again.

There it was.

A twitch. It was unmistakable. His mouth had moved; he could smell my blood.

Glancing over my shoulder I noticed Carlisle had sat down outside the room on the bottom step. His head in his hands, paying no attention to me or my Vampire.

I looked back at Edward, and rubbing at the newly forming scar on my cut, I squeezed the skin together until a drop of blood appeared. Lowering my hand to his I lips, I hesitated.

I had no idea what this could do to him. I would either send him into an animalistic frenzy, and without thought Edward would take me and drink till he was full, or I was just dropping blood into a carcass.

I swept my eyes across his features once more, his forehead and arched brows, the defined nose and pouted lips, slightly open but with no breath. As I studied him and imagined leaving this room without ever being close to him again, I felt – meaningless.

My mind made up, I squeezed again until the drop of blood fell onto his partially open lips.

I pulled my hand back and watched as the blood trickled over his full bottom lip and disappeared inside.

For the longest time nothing happened. I pressed my face into his chest and felt the warmth of my tears as they rolled off my face and onto his cold skin.

I was crying hard, and closing my eyes I concentrated on the rise and fall of my head with each shuddery breath.

I felt a cool hand lift my hair from my face and lay at the base of my neck.

"Just one more minute, Carlisle, please?" I begged him.

"Isabella?" Carlisle spoke from behind me. Far behind me. I turned my head and noticed him in the doorway. Moving quickly I pulled away from Edward. His hand dropped back down onto the table.

"More," he whispered, barely audible.

Without thought I swept my finger across the cut on my arm and rubbed the residue against his lips.

"More," he swallowed.

"What are you doing?" Carlisle came at me, grabbing my arm he looked at the cuff mark. "Are you mad?"

"Get me a knife!"

"No way, Isabella, he'll kill you!"

Ignoring Carlisle I looked around the room for a cup or a bowl or some other type of challis.

"Isabella," Carlisle shouted at me, "Isabella!"

I turned to him. "What?"

"He will kill you!"

I shook my head. "I don't care."

"You are mad!"

"If this was Esme –"

Carlisle covered his ears. I gripped his arms a pulled them away forcing him to hear me. "If this was Esme, what would you do? What would you do?"

Staring at me with wide eyes he answered me, his voice so low, it was barely audible, "I'd do anything to save her."

Nodding I asked, "Help me?"

"What do you need?"

"I need a cup – or bowl –"

We both searched the room, but of course Edward had no need of human food, so no such items existed in this room.

Just as I was about to give up and shove my arm into Edward's mouth, Carlisle called me. "Isabella, how about this?"

Reaching up he lifted the candle out of the sconce. It was wide and long and designed to burn for months. No domestic candle was ever made this large, and as the wick had burned it had heated the inner part of the candle, creating a crevice. The makeshift bowl was filled with hot, runny wax. Carlisle blew the flame out and drained the wax onto the floor.

"I need a knife," I told him.

Carlisle started to shake his head again before be noticed my intensity. "I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?"

I smiled at him and waited while he unsheathed a small blade from his waist. It was nothing fancy, but was sharp and would make do. Taking a deep breath I pressed the blade to my palm.

"Wait!" Carlisle stopped me. "I can't let you do this."

"Carlisle –"

"No, what I mean is, let me."

I looked at him and knew from the determination in his eyes that he meant it. For Carlisle this was a small way to absolve for what he had done to Edward. But in my heart I knew it had to be me.

I shook my head slowly. "Let me ask you again, Carlisle, if that was Esme...?" I trailed off, leaving my unfinished question hanging in the air.

He understood, and letting go of my hand, he stepped back. "I'm right here, if you need me."

I nodded.

"Don't cut too deep," he interrupted once more and I nodded again.

Then, inhaling deeply, I pressed the blade into my flesh and pulled it back towards me, the tip of the knife slicing the soft skin like butter. The blood did not hesitate in spilling out over my hand, and moving quickly Carlisle lowered the hollow candle beneath. I held still as the blood filled the small cavern, and squeezing my fist closed to stem the flow, I took the candle over to Edward.

Carlisle raised his head for me and I pressed the edge to hip lips. The blood spilt, leaking over the sides of his mouth, but the majority of it he managed to swallow.

The cut had been small but Edward managed to swallow three mouthfuls from the candle before Carlisle placed his head back down.

"More," Edward muttered, his voice sounding slightly stronger.

"We need more blood, Isabella, and unless you're planning on draining yourself, we're going to need help."

I agreed. There was only so much I could give him without killing myself.

"Wait here," Carlisle instructed and disappeared up the stairs. I squeezed my fist over the candle again and without Carlisle to help me, I attempted to feed Edward by myself. He swallowed another three mouthfuls and I noticed his colour take on a different hue.

The bluish tinge faded, and I was never so pleased to see snow white skin in my life.

As I held the candle under my bleeding hand one more time, Edward reached out and grabbed me.

His grip was strong and I looked at him, happiness turning to dread as he slowly sat up, his black eyes now tinted with a deep, red ring.

His mouth was tilted into a half-smile.

He swung his legs over the side of table and purred "More," dragging the word out into a whisper.

I felt the hairs at the base of my neck stand on end and watched as Edward stood, towering above me, licking the bloody residue from the corners of his mouth.

On one side the trickle had reached his chin, and for the first time since I'd known him, Edward truly looked like a Vampire.

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