Yay, a quickie! I just couldn't stay away, things were getting too laid-back, and I felt it was finally time for some angst! So far, I think Esme has had it easy with the transformation and adjustment to a vampire's life, so I figured it was time she was reminded that no one's life is a bed of roses -even Esme's, or, as we'll see in further chapters(Whoops! Spoiler!) Carlisle's.

As always, my only request: please review!

Temptress

We stayed in that cabin for a whole month. Our time there was one of the most wonderful times I have ever since spent with my husband. Day and night we stayed inseparable –all our moments of love and tenderness interspersed with hours of heady passion and light-hearted moments of joy and laughter… the Cabin, as it would forever hence be called by us, became a place of magic and romance, symbolising our everlasting love.

When we finally returned to Chippewa Falls, we were met with a surprise: Edward had decided to join school. Although this possibility had been considered before, Edward had firmly vetoed the idea of pretending to relive his adolescent years all over again. It was only thus more surprising when he informed us that he had already started school while we were away and had finished with more than a week's classes.

He didn't even wait to listen to our exclamations. "Look, let's be honest here," he'd said with his trademark amused grin. "You both obviously need some private time everyday –and I need to be away at those times since I'll be able to hear you –physically and mentally. This is the best activity for me to pass time –anyway, it's better that I attend school, rather than sit at home doing nothing and attract the neighbours' unwanted interest. Carlisle can take the night shift –it's better if he does, anyway, and you two will have your time alone all through the daylight hours."

To this the two of us could obviously not give a good enough counterargument –Edward seemed to have thought this through, and it did make sense. I had a nagging suspicion that there were other motives for Edward's decision, but it was only fleeting, and was quickly dispelled at the sight of his happy, content demeanour. Later, I would regret this neglect of mine… but I could hardly see into the future, could I? And so we agreed to Edward's scheme and settled into our new lives contentedly.

Mid-August, 1927

The harsh trill of the telephone ringing bursts through our occupied thoughts like gunshots–a very, very unwelcome interruption.

Before the ring is even over, I grasp at Carlisle's wrist, even as he sits up, his expression matching mine.

"Don't." -I plead in my most persuasive voice. "Ignore it."

I can see the struggle he is going through –he grabs my hand tightly at the sound of my hoarse voice. "I can't," he rasps reluctantly. "Only the hospital has the number."

I sigh, let go of his hand and roll away. With a whispered "Sorry, my love," and a quick hard kiss on my bare shoulder, he is gone. I sigh again deeply as I listen to him answer the call, his voice almost normal, "Cullen residence. Yes –yes, of course… oh dear… certainly. I shall be there as soon as I can. Yes, thank you." The familiar click of the receiver being placed echoes up the stairs, and the very next moment, he is next to me under the covers, his arm slipping around my waist.

"I have to go," he murmurs.

"Who is it this time?" –I ask grumpily.

"An eight-year old girl. Consumption."

I sigh yet again. "Must you ask? Go."

He snuggles closer to me, his arm tightening around my midriff. "I love you, Esme," he breathes into my hair.

I elbow him in the chest. "Go on, then. You need to leave." –I say coldly.

He lifts his head and gently places his marble cheek on mine. "Not yet. I have some time to pretend go at a respectable human's pace."

I twist around to face him immediately, the bed beneath us groaning its protests. "How much time?" –I ask him, not too reluctantly.

He grins and gives me a quick peck on the nose. "Not time enough, dearest. You'll have to wait until I return." He shifts and rests his head in his hand, propped up by his elbow.

I pout and snuggle closer to him, and wrap my leg slowly around his waist. "Are you sure?" –I ask seductively, "We vampires are known to be very, very fast."

In a flash he is off the bed and standing in the other end of the room, leaning against the closet as if he needs the support.

"Esme," he wheezes in a low tone, "You distracting creature."

I flash a dazzling smile at him and stretch slowly, baring every inch of my exposed skin with subdued fervour.

He takes in a sharp, ragged breath and turns away, towards the closet; after a moment of stiff control, he flings open the door with such energy that one of the hinges snaps.

"Darling, for God's sake, don't tear down the house," I say softly.

"Quiet, woman," he murmurs, still facing away from me, as he dresses himself in a blur of linen and wool. "I swear, you are my undoing." I see his cheekbones rise as I let out a hearty chuckle at that.

By the time he finishes speaking, he is already fully dressed, and he turns to me with his usual calm smile. "Well, I must leave," he says simply.

Just as quick as he had been, I flit over to stand in front of him, the bedcovers draped hastily over my body. "I'll miss you," I say quietly, sincerity replacing all the mischief in my voice.

He holds my face gently in his hands. "And I you," he says solemnly.

"Will you remain at the hospital through the night?"

"I mean not to, but I can't be sure, my love," he explains.

I nod slowly. "I understand. I suppose I'll go hunting by myself, then."

Carlisle looks mortified. "I'd completely forgotten! How thirsty are you, my dear?"

I consider for a moment, and reply honestly, "Very."

Carlisle sighs. "Can you wait until later in the evening? Or tonight when Edward returns-"

"No." –I interrupt him calmly. "I can go by myself."

He runs a hand worriedly through his hair –a gesture he rarely does except when he's too unsure or nervous –in this case, both.

"Carlisle," I say before he can say another word, "it's alright. It's been six years, you know."

Gently he wraps his arms around me, holding me in a soft embrace. "I know, my love," he says, placing his chin on my head, "but… after that day…"

I grimace against his chest. About two years ago I had come very close to breaking my 'vegetarian' diet and killing an old woman –all because she hurt her toe while walking past our front door. My frenzied reaction had so alarmed Carlisle that we had immediately retreated to the Cabin for two whole weeks –needless to say, the exile had not been painful to me in any way, seeing as I got to relive my glorious honeymoon with Carlisle. After that, I have barely come in contact with any human, and Carlisle takes care to sanitize his clothes more carefully before coming home every morning.

Presently, I look up at Carlisle and say confidently, "That was different, my dear. I'm stronger now. And I won't be meeting any humans out where I'm going… really, it's alright, Carlisle."

He hesitates. "Esme, you really don't have to go alone…"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Carlisle, I'm not a child!" –I burst out. Quickly calming myself at the bemused expression on his face, I continue in a gentler tone, "Darling, it's just a usual hunt. Nothing's going to happen to me –or to anyone else."

Perhaps it's impossible to believe, but I've never gone hunting alone ever in my entire existence as a vampire. Every time there'd be either Carlisle or Edward to offer me company, and more and more recently, I've only gone hunting with Carlisle, or not at all. This time, however, I find myself quite looking forward to the experience –I'm sure I can manage myself, because I'm definitely not an incapable, bumbling, blinded-by-thirst Newborn, am I?

Carlisle sighs. "If you insist."

I kiss him gently on his cheek. "It's just that I'm so desperately thirsty," a shudder passes through my body as the full force of the parching thirst in my throat comes to the fore of my conscious thought. "Besides, I'll wait for you until four, just like we'd decided. If you make it a little late, you can always come join me in the woods." Resuming my teasing tone, I continue, "And the snow outside is just so irresistibly soft… and moist, and-"

Carlisle cuts me off with a deep, passionate kiss. Even as he lets go, he is grinning. "Like I said, my lovely temptress, you are my undoing. Little by little, every single day."

I smile back. "I love you."

He kisses me again, gentler this time. "And I you." With a final gentle squeeze, he lets me go and departs, pausing at the doorway to shoot a smile of affection at me, his eyes longing. I stay where I am, clutching the sheets, frozen, as I listen to him quit the house. It is only when I hear the car's engine start that I return to bed with a sigh.

Everyday Carlisle leaves for work, and yet, everyday, the moment of departure is pure torture for me. Sometimes, like today, Carlisle gets a call from the hospital to tackle some emergency or the other, leaving me bereft of him for longer than the usual ten hours that he is gone for every night. Even Edward is not home to cheer me up –he has only just acquired his first high school diploma as a vampire, but for some reason is not at home most of the time. Although it is summer and school is officially over, Edward still insists on staying outside everyday for the same amount of hours as he would on a normal school day. While Carlisle and I have tried our best to dissuade him every summer, Edward can be astonishingly stubborn and prevails every time.

I roll over and stare at the roof above me, a frown forming on my forehead. Lately, I have begun to worry about Edward. Although he is almost always his usual cheerful, teasing self, something's not right –I can tell, and something is bothering him and holding him back. My last attempt at persuading him to confide in me was a disaster –he saw what was in my thoughts and immediately left the house on a nonsensical pretext, and did not return until I had forced myself to think about something else.

I bite my lip as I curb the expletive that rises in my mouth –having a mindreader for a brooding, introverted adolescent is not an easy situation.

I brood and worry over Edward for a long time after that, my mind running in paradoxical circles, until I glance at the wall-clock and see that it is time I must go hunting. My eyes are already the deepest shade of black, and while I was supposed to go hunting atleast a week ago, somehow, Carlisle and I found better things to do, and have been putting it off ever since.

Slowly, languidly, I quit the bed and survey my growing collection of clothes in the closet dispassionately. In the bed everything smelled wonderfully of him, while my clothes have nothing but my own scent –and my loneliness is suddenly more heavily implied in the absence of his delicious aroma.

Abruptly I turn around and hasten to the other side of the room, where, lying on the floor in a rumpled heap, are Carlisle's clothes from this morning. I grab the clean white shirt and press it against my face, inhaling his heady scent from it, and in that moment, I am decided.

Grinning shyly, as if there were someone around to see my foolishness, I slip on Carlisle's shirt and button it up. The garment is extremely huge and breezy, not too mention so thin as to be nearly translucent, but I find that I like it that way. Biting my lip, knowing that I would have been blushing furiously at this point had I been human, I slip on one of my straight, knee-length skirts and the usual warm snow-boots, bending my head every now and then to revel in the scent at the shirt's collar.

Chuckling at my absurd attire in the mirror one last time, I head outside, wondering if Carlisle could make it home soon enough to follow me into the woods and join the hunt. Obviously, I'm hoping fervently that he does –there's always something magical about all the quiet and the snow –especially when Carlisle's with me.

I walk at a slow, human's pace through the snow-covered backyard, making towards the woods that begin only a few yards away from the backdoor. As soon as I step into the shade of the silent coniferous trees, I break into a delighted run, rejoicing in the wind blowing through my hair and the feeling of the branches of the trees whispering against my stone-hard skin.

I run for several minutes without any consideration for speed or direction, but finally slow down to a gentle stop on a slope offering a view of a silent creek. The thirst in my throat immediately seems to increase and I find myself sniffing the air with a desperation I don't know I possess. Even as my animalistic instincts begin to sharpen, my spine curves ever so slightly, my legs spread apart a little more, my fingers curl –all these actions happen involuntarily as I try to smell for food. For several seconds, I smell nothing –nothing except the trees and the paltry woodland rodents and tiny mammals –and then a gentle breeze blows into my face, bringing with it a faint, far-away smell of caribou.

Instantly my lips curl over my teeth as I grin with pleasure; in the same instant my legs are moving, carrying me towards my repast with breathtaking speed.

Soon enough, I find myself closing in, and my perfect eyesight can finally distinguish the herd amongst the trees several miles away. But when there is less then a mile left between me and them, I suddenly smell something that pulls me up short for a whole second.

It is unmistakeable: a human.

Immediately a great mental battle ensues within me. My knees tremble with the indecision –to crouch and hunt, or stand tall and walk away? –and I click my teeth shut together so hard that the sound echoes into the trees and frightens a bird or two off. With supreme effort, taking care not to take even a wisp of breath in, I walk away in the opposite direction, forcefully concentrating on each step and not the tempting, alluring smell that would destroy my conscience… My left leg wavers mid air as I try to keep the next step. The prospect is too, too tantalizing to be ignored.

On a sudden inspiration, I snatch up my shirt's collar, and press it to my nose. Immediately Carlisle's familiar, calming scent pervades my thoughts and clears my head. I have to leave. What was I thinking? Breaking into a sudden run, I close my mind to everything but that scent –the familiar enticing smell of apples and leather, of sunshine and the sea.

After running for a few miles, I slow down tentatively. The human's scent is gone, and I can finally concentrate on my hunt once more. I take a ninety-degrees turn towards my left, and make towards the general direction of the herd. I know that the path is circuitous, but I hope to ambush the herd soon enough with the help the natural compass within my body.

I do not want the risk of smelling the human again, and so I still do not breathe. For several minutes, I am running at a slightly slower, steadier pace than usual, concentrating on Carlisle, and wondering what he will make of my tangled trail, when I hear it.

The caribou are fleeing, running away from me. I realize belatedly the wind is blowing in their direction, carrying my smell with it, and they have thus been alerted. Cursing freely, I break into a faster sprint, the thirst eliminating all sense of control.

Later, I will rue my actions today –my stupidity, and my absolute ineptitude at taking precautions. But I'm not thinking straight –my mind is oscillating between feverish hunger and mortified abstinence –and so, even as I run towards the herd, I make the elemental mistake of still not taking a single breath, thirst controlling all but my olfactory senses, which my guilty conscience has suppressed.

Quickly formulating a plan of attack in my mind, I concentrate on running as fast as possible, but in a parallel line from the prey, so I can ambush the well-built, healthy leader up front, who I've had my eyes on since I saw the herd the first time. Within seconds I reach a well-concealed clearing just off the route of the deer, where I hunch behind the bushes to wait –they will take a few minutes atleast to come this way.

Then I realize belatedly that I have not been concentrating hard enough on my surroundings –a stupid, stupid mistake. Before I can react in any way possible, the bushes behind me rustle loudly and a man steps into the small patch of clear grass.

I stand up in a flash –so quickly that the man does not even see me move –and turn towards him, the expression on my face ironically like that of a hunted deer.

He is unmistakeably human, though I dare not breathe to verify it, and dressed like a lumberjack. For a moment he stares at me, his bloodshot eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. Then he smiles –a very unpleasant smile, with his yellow teeth and greasy wrinkles in full, stark view.

"Well, well," he drawls, and by his deep voice, I place him to be in his forties, "what'd you be doin' all alone out here in the woods, eh?"

I don't answer him, then realise that he is waiting for my reply. Praying to the heavens, I take in a quick, sharp breath, the air laced with his smell, and say, in my most imperious tone possible, "It's none of your concern."

He takes a slow, menacing step towards me, his ugly grin widening. "But it is, Miss. You see, I don't get much company hereabouts, and company like yourself here… well, I'm mighty interested where you'd be coming from. You waiting for someone?"

Mutely, I shake my head.

His grin widens even more, but there is a sudden speculative look in his eyes. His expression triggers some remembrance in my mind –a human one –but I cannot remember what exactly. Instead, I concentrate on Carlisle, and nudge my shoulders ever so slightly so I can easily smell the collar of the shirt by a small dip of the head. The man notices this action, but for a very different reason –as the shirt ripples over my body, his eyes are caught by the obvious lines and curves of my figure that the translucent shirt, despite being baggy, accentuates.

And then the hunger appears in his eyes; hunger, and disgusting speculation I have not seen in a man's face for more than eight years.

"Well, well, Miss. You are a pretty piece of meat, eh?"-he mumbles, eyes raking over my body unabashedly.

It is then that the memory bursts into my conscious thoughts –a dim remembrance of my wedding night with Charles Evenson, him stripping off his jacket and leering at me, approaching me with that familiar lust, that anger…

This man has the exact same expression on his face.

The shock of the suddenly clear memory and anger at the lecherous man disorients me and I gasp aloud –and the relatively confined air of the clearing rushes into my body, bringing with the clear aroma of his blood, pure and unfiltered by distance.

Instantly I go rigid, but only for the tiniest portion of second. Rage, unconfined, irrepressible rage consumes me and unites with the rapidly uncontrollable thirst –and I go on to commit one of the biggest mistakes of my life.

Before the leer is even wiped off his face, I lunge for his throat. In less than a second, he is dead and his blood is running down my throat, pouring into my insides, seeping into my dead cells. For those few moments, I think of nothing but my thirst and his blood –which happens to be the most amazing thing I have ever tasted –how on earth did I survive on animal blood all these years?

But when I finish and straighten up, I am reminded exactly how I did it –standing at the exact same spot where the man had appeared is my husband, and on his face is a look of utmost horror and pity. My breath catches in my throat, and I realise that I am covered in blood –his shirt is covered in human blood.

Then the enormity of my mistake comes crashing down onto me. With a wordless, anguished cry, I turn around and take to my heels, ignoring his calls.

How could I have ever presumed to be his wife? How could I, such a depraved, immoral creature deserve him? The pain and the guilt is crushing my heart, and I so I run, run away from him, my body racking with dry sobs.