A/N: Not much to say here, lovelies. Enjoy this one. We'll speak at the end :)

Song of inspiration: "Need The Sun To Break" by James Bay

…

It didn't take long for Beau to start talking.

At first it was mostly unintelligible mumblings.

Then he rolled, burying his face in my hair, hitching a leg over both of mine, and I froze. I had been astonishingly anesthetized to the burn of his scent over the course of the day, but his sudden, unexpected closeness triggered it once more.

And then he murmured my name, and the raging urge dissipated. In its place, warm tenderness glowed.

"Edythe," he said, sighing, "I love you."

If I had a working heart, it would have stopped. I wondered if I'd misinterpreted his words somehow, but then he said it again, and abruptly, my heart was soaring.

Regardless of if I deserved it or not, it was true, and in this moment, I had never felt more radiant. Instead of focusing on all the things that could go wrong, I chose to bask in this one truth that I knew: Beau loved me. And though I had heard the nature of his feelings before, it was different, hearing the words.

…

"Just a minute of your time."

Archie stepped smoothly out from the dining room doorway. He wasn't looking at me, instead at his hands, running one finger up his other palm.

I stopped, mid-stride, on the staircase and turned back to him. "What is it?"

I was in a rush to change and get back to Beau. He'd fallen into a deep, soundless slumber as the hours crept toward dawn, so I was sure I wouldn't miss anything of interest, but that didn't make being away from him any easier.

"Little sis!" Eleanor appeared at the top of the stairs, "How'd it go?!" She bounded down toward me, and I narrowed my eyes at her when I read the motives in her mind.

"Like you care," I teased, in too great a mood to be bothered by her and Jess's antics.

She gave me a deeply wounded look, laying a hand over her still heart. "My dear Edythe, why ever would you think that?"

I pursed my lips at her, folding my arms over my chest, waiting.

"So, did you kill him?"

"There it is!"

Archie snickered. He knew the answer already, but apparently he hadn't told. Eleanor, at least. Jessamine appeared at Archie's elbow now, her thoughts gamely disappointed.

Eleanor glanced between us. "C'mon, c'mon," she urged, "Who won the bet?" She grinned, untroubled by the possibility that I had ended Beau's life.

I glanced at Archie. "Should we tell them?"

He grinned mischievously.

Then I smelt the unfamiliar aroma of human food, and I whirled. "Why—?" I began, but cut myself off as I rushed back down the stairs, through the dining room, and into the kitchen. Atop the counter lay a conglomeration of biscuits, baked goods, eggs, bacon, cartons of orange juice and milk, coffee, three different types of energy drinks…

"What is this?" I turned to Earnest, who had already begun to pack away the food into the empty refrigerator. On the table in the nook, I caught sight of the most extravagant fruit bowl I'd ever seen—Archie's doing, no doubt. I knew I'd smelt orange rind on his hands.

"Seeing as you're bringing Beau by later—"

"Oh," I said, turning to Archie, "So you tell them this?" I tried to sound angry, but I thought I merely sounded teasing. I really wasn't all that upset. In fact, I was flattered by my family's willing excitement. However, I knew how to take care of my human, and I didn't need their help.

Archie shrugged. "Beau's a man's man, Edy, and since you obviously don't feed him well enough, Earnest figured—"

Earnest chuckled as he started pulling out pots and pans he'd never used. "Oh, don't try to blame this one on me, son. This was all your idea."

Archie grinned. "Anyway. Figured I'd pick up the slack."

"Oh, for the love of all that is holy." I rolled my eyes. I was wasting too much time on this already, and I headed for the second level. "Donate the food, Earnest," I said over my shoulder, "I'll feed Beau before we come."

I pretended not to notice the exchanging of hands between Jess and Eleanor as I passed them on my way back to the stairs, trying to suppress my giddy smile. I was glad my family was prepared to meet him—but I knew Beau wouldn't want a fuss made, and I could only imagine how he would react to the fridge full of food in a house where its occupants didn't eat. To Beau, it would be worse than the Girlfriends' Parents' Inquisition. "So, let me ask you—what are your intentions for dating my daughter?"

"Hey!" El called when I got to the landing, "Wait up, Edy!"

I slowed my pace and Eleanor followed me up to my room. I discarded the thin white tank top in the hamper, and searched my closet for something more unassuming.

"So, really," she said, flopping gracefully—in the way only a vampire can do—onto the leather couch against the east wall of my bedroom. "How'd it go?"

"The afternoon was successful," I said from where I was leafing through options in my closet. "Not without a few near-blunders, but I think I proved myself pretty well."

El huffed. "You know, Roy wasn't exactly betting on his survival." I felt my eyes narrow. Why was I not surprised? "He'll be disappointed when they get back from hunting."

"Why would anyone bet against Archie?" I mumbled, selecting a peach colored sweater and pulling it on. I changed my jeans, as well.

"I mean," El said as I emerged from the closet and sat down next to her, "Jess's odds weren't good, and I trusted her, with her background and all. And Archie wasn't really sure about anything until halfway through the afternoon—at which point he let out a huge 'Boo yah! That's my little sister!'." I smirked, having an idea about what he might have seen. "I don't take it you'll tell me about that, will you?" Her curiosity was barely restrained. Eleanor hated to be left out of the loop.

I didn't see the point in resisting. "I kissed him."

El's mind went blank, and then a million different thoughts were flashing through her brain, arcing too quickly across the expanse of her mind for me to peg.

Finally, How'd you manage that?

I remembered Beau's unexpected reaction, and coupled with the reflexive instinct she was thinking she would have had in response to putting her lips so close to a human, it had my throat stinging. Yes, I needed to get back to Beau quickly.

"Not without a great deal of difficulty. And an exceeding amount of self-control."

Eleanor thought about this for a moment, and she tried to push the obvious difference in our species aside, so that she could offer me some truly big-sisterly advice.

I groaned, hearing what she was thinking already.

"I mean," she finally said, pretending she hadn't heard me, "I don't see how you can have a successful relationship without the physical. And," she added, "Beau, human or non-human, is going to have…" How do I put this delicately? Raging, throbbing—"urges," she said.

"Believe me," I murmured, "I'm learning a thing or two about raging, throbbing urges myself."

"Hey, I didn't mean for you to hear that first part," she protested. Then she reached over and tweaked my nose. "Aww… My baby sister… Finally ready for the sex talk."

I glared at her, childishly poking my tongue out. If I'd been human, I probably would be blushing. "Not sex specifically," I clarified, "Just the… Physical part."

Eleanor couldn't quite comprehend a physical relationship in absence of lovemaking, but I had figured her to be the best candidate for this discussion due to the fact that she was the most forward of us all. There was rarely a time when the filter of her thoughts did not directly correlate into her spoken words.

Physical part, she repeated in her head.

"I mean," I huffed, "Obviously, we've kissed. I already told you that, but… I just would like to know what experience you have… In the area… So that I can… I don't know…"

Eleanor smirked smugly, amused by my difficulty in forming complete sentences.

"Oh, never mind!" I griped, and I stood, prepared to leave the whole situation behind, but she gripped my wrist and pulled me back down.

"Now, hold on," she protested. I waited patiently. "I had some experience," she confessed. Through the unclear sieve of her human mind, I could see she'd had a few trysts with the stable boy. The memories were unerringly sharp. Sex, even human sex, isn't something you could easily forget, she thought, I mean, it's way more intense as a vampire, but—

"Okay, okay," I blurted, squeezing my eyes shut and pressing my palms to my ears, as if that would help block out the mental images of her and Royal she was thinking about. "Enough. I never should have asked."

"Edy." She appraised me. "I don't know how you managed, or why you would want to even go there with a human, but what I do know is this—you love him. And if you truly love him, and he loves you, you'll find a way to be together. You'll figure this out."

She smacked my knee in a way that was somewhere between encouraging, and rowdily sibling-esque. It was very unlike Eleanor to be so serious about these sorts of things. She would much rather joke about physical relations, but I could tell in her mind that she had sympathy for me.

She was not the first in our family to notice the drastic change in my mood, and she knew this was due to the newly-blossomed relationship between myself and Beau. Despite the inevitability of what she suspected would happen—i.e. Beau with glowing crimson eyes—she wanted me to be happy in the meantime. I appreciated that.

…

It was a very different experience to be able to watch the sunrise from Beau's small bedroom window. We had never met it together, and the dawning of this day felt new and pure and blissful.

The daybreak burst across the horizon with purple fire, caressing the thick, oppressive clouds, bringing forth a new day.

It surprised me how little my resolve had waned in my hour of absence. The thirst was mildly stronger, but—due to yesterday's practices, I suspected—it was not nearly as overwhelming as I had thought it would be, and I adjusted quickly.

By the time Beau began to surface from sleep, I was completely at ease, perched in the rocking chair across the room. His breathing changed, and I knew he was awake when he moaned groggily, shifting onto his side.

"Oh!" He jolted into a sitting position, eyes cloudy, lips parted, not fully here, nor there. His hair was a chaotic tangle, and I grinned at the sight of it, piled on top of his head. How could a rooster's tail look so undeniably gorgeous? I decided I very much liked this sleep-ruffled look of his, and added it to my steadily-expanding list.

"Your hair also has the ability to defy gravity," I noted quietly, "It's like your own superpower."

His sleep-creased face swung toward me, and his hands lifted to squash the untidy hair back to his scalp. As soon as hands fell, it sprung back out of shape.

"You stayed." His voice was heavy, husky with disuse and ardor. It made my frozen heart twist in the most pleasant way.

"Of course. That's what you wanted, correct?"

He nodded. His lips looked so soft… His left cheek had been pressed against the pillow, sleep-wrinkled and rosy, and I wanted to press my face to his, to share that snug warmth.

But I didn't have to move, because he was already half-falling out of the bed, tripping over wayward sheets, and stumbling toward me. He moved almost unconsciously, and if I had not been prepared by yesterday's unexpected occurrences, his sudden advancement may have thrown me. But this morning, it didn't.

He dropped to his knees in front of me and reached up slowly, to caress my cheek.

Hmm… So warm…

"Charlie?" he asked.

"He left an hour ago," I informed him, "with an amazing amount of gear."

"You left?" He sounded offended, having noticed my changed outfit.

I opened my eyes, unreasonably pleased by the pleasure his affront brought me. I lifted my hand to lay it over his own, against my face. "I could hardly leave in the clothes I came in—what would the neighbors think?" I quipped. "In any case, I was only gone for a few minutes and you were very deeply asleep at that point, so I know I didn't miss anything."

He groaned quietly. "What did I say?" he inquired.

I felt suddenly shy, and breathless. "You said you loved me."

"You already knew that," he said, his eyes limpid pools.

"It was different," I argued, "hearing the words."

He stared into my eyes, and for just a moment, I let myself sink into the fathomless ocean, floating in its serene waves… Losing myself. "I love you."

Euphoria erupted inside me, and I was at a loss for words. I leaned forward to rest my forehead lightly against his. "You are my life now." They were the only words I could think of. Truer words had never been spoken.

We stayed this way, in our shy lovers' embrace, until Beau's stomach made its displeasure known. I remembered my duty to keep him better-fed and sat up, laughing.

"Humanity is so overrated," he carped quietly.

"Should we begin with breakfast?" I suggested.

Beau's eyes widened and he threw his hand over his throat. Immediately, I realized my fault, and painful remorse flooded through me. In the moment immediately succeeding that, mirth flashed in his eyes, and I realized he'd been joking.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

He laughed, the sound an undeniable delight. "Come on," he goaded me, "you know that was funny."

Not funny. "I disagree. Shall I rephrase? Breakfast time for the human?"

"Okay," he agreed, "I need another human minute first, if you don't mind."

"Of course."

"Stay," he ordered.

I grinned. Oh, I wasn't going anywhere.

I waited while he brushed his teeth and took his shower. A moment later, I heard his heart rate pick up, and I wondered about that. The bathroom door squeaked open, his bare feet padded across the hallway's floorboards, and then I got my answer.

Beau poked his head around the partially open door. The bit of his shoulder and chest I could see were bare.

Oh.

"Um…" he said.

I giggled at his red-faced, mortified expression. Obviously, the half-nudity in my presence was not on purpose, and had been completely unavoidable.

"Shall we meet in the kitchen, then?" I suggested.

"Yes, please."

In a moment, I was past him, politely averting my eyes as I flew down the stairs.

"What's for breakfast?" he asked when he stepped into the room a few minutes later, dressed in jeans and a navy-blue pullover. It complimented the color in his eyes beautifully.

His question threw me. I didn't know how to cook, but I was certainly willing to try… Wasn't that a very 'girlfriend-ish' thing to do, to cook for your boyfriend? "I'm not sure…" I said, "What would you like?"

But then he laughed, and I realized he'd been joking. "That's all right, I fend for myself pretty well," he relented, "You're allowed to watch me hunt."

I took a seat at the table as he gathered what he needed—a box of cereal from the cupboard, the carton of milk, a bowl, and a spoon. As he dumped a heap of yellow flakes into the dish, I tried not to wrinkle my nose. It didn't look anything resembling human food. In fact, it didn't smell like it, either.

He set his food down at the spot across from mine, and then hesitated.

"Um, can I… get you something?"

I rolled my eyes at his needless—though appreciated—attempt at hosting. "Just eat, Beau."

He sat down, eyes on me as he took the first bite. It was strangely fascinating to watch him eat. The way his jaw muscles worked, the way his lips caressed the spoon… I was enchanted—and distracted—by the inane ministrations.

"Anything on the agenda today?" he asked once he'd swallowed the first bite.

"Maybe." I remembered my family's expectations, and Archie's confidence that Beau would agree to my invitation. Not for the first time, I wondered if his vision was a result of my decision, or if my decision was a result of the vision. "That depends on whether or not you like my idea," I went on.

"I'll like it," he promised without hesitation, and took a second bite.

I made a face, wondering how he would react to this. "Are you open to meeting my family?" They'd waited so long—especially Earnest—and I couldn't help but crave this dated rite of passage. I wanted to introduce Beau to my family, I wanted to take him home to meet my parents—in a way that felt very natural and very human.

Beau choked on his food.

I leapt to my feet, torn with indecision. If I beat on his back, would I crush his lungs in my effort to dislodge whatever was stuck in his throat? If I performed the Heimlich maneuver, how many ribs would I break before I successfully cleared his airways—if I didn't crush them first?

He shook his head, still hacking, and motioned for me to sit. Finally, after a moment that stretched on forever, he cleared the obstruction from his windpipe.

"I'm good, I'm good," he rasped.

"Please don't do that to me again, Beau." If I were human, my heart would be flying. My breath accelerate in response to the panicky sensations.

"Sorry," he said.

"Maybe we should have this conversation after you're done eating," I suggested warily.

"Okay," he agreed.

I thought about his reaction while he finished his breakfast. Was he averse to meeting them? Was he frightened? It certainly seemed so, and I wondered about that. How could he act so naturally around me, but have the very appropriate reaction to the rest of my family?

Beau didn't speak, his eyes a galaxy of changing emotion and concentrated thought, as he finished his meal. Finally, he put the spoon in the bowl and pushed it away.

"I've finally done it."

"What did you do?" he asked.

"Scared you."

To my surprise, he didn't deny the claim. Instead, he lifted his hand, fingers spread, and waved it from side to side in the international symbol for Kinda, yeah.

"I wouldn't let anyone hurt you," I jested. They would never try, I knew that, and in the past, humor had worked to ease his sullen moods. I thought it would work now, but instead, immediate anxiety flashed across his face.

"No one would try, Beau," I hurried to soothe him, "That was a joke."

"I don't want to cause you any problems," he mumbled, "Do they even know that I know?"

I rolled my eyes again, thinking of my earlier conversation with El, and of course, Archie was always in the know. "Oh, they're quite up to date," I assured him, "It's not really possible to keep secrets in my house, what with our various parlor tricks. Archie had already seen that your dropping by was a possibility."

Emotions flitted in his eyes and across his face. Realization, surprise, embarrassment.

His face went red, and despite knowing it wouldn't work, I probed his impenetrable mind. I suspected he might not tell me what he was thinking, and this I really needed to know.

Did it worry him—Archie's precognition? Did it scare him?

But then he explained, surprising me: "Just thinking about what Archie might have seen."

I nodded in understanding. The kiss. The discussion in his bed. "It can feel invasive," I empathized, "But he doesn't do it on purpose. And he sees so many different possibilities… he doesn't know which will happen. For example, he saw over a hundred different ways that yesterday could have gone, and you only survived about seventy-five percent of the scenarios. They'd taken bets, you know, as to whether I would kill you."

"Oh," he said simply.

I tried to decipher the emotions in his eyes. "Do you want to know who sided for and against?"

"Um, maybe not," he declined, "Tell me after I meet them. I don't want to go into this prejudiced."

Elated surprise shook the annoyance at my siblings off. "Oh. You'll go, then?"

"It seems like… the respectful thing to do," he reasoned, "I don't want them to think I'm shady."

I laughed out loud at that impossibility. "Does that mean I get to meet Charlie, too, then?" I asked eagerly. I was looking forward to meeting Chief Swan formally. It would be prudent to have everything out in the open before his reservations got any stronger. "He's already suspicious, and I'd rather not be shady, either." It felt odd to use the current vernacular. The word felt foreign and heavy on my tongue. Archie had always fared better at keeping his dialect… What was the phrase? With the times? Current with the four-one-one and all that…?

"I mean, sure," he agreed, "But what should we tell him? I mean, how do I explain…?"

I lifted my shoulders. "I doubt he'll struggle too hard with the idea of your having a girlfriend," I deduced, "Though it's a loose interpretation of the word girl, I'll admit."

"Girlfriend… It sounds… not enough," he mumbled.

Oh. Affection washed through the empty cavern of my heart like a tidal wave. I leaned forward to stroke one finger softly down the side of his face. "Well, I don't know if we need to give him all the gory details, but he will need some explanation for why I'm around here so much. I don't want Chief Swan putting a restraining order on me," I joked.

"Will you really be here?" His voice was anxious, his eyes suddenly wild.

"As long as you want me," I vowed.

"I'll always want you. I'm talking about forever here."

Equal amounts of bliss and sadness touched me, and I squeezed my eyes shut against the torrent of emotion. My selfishness would destroy him. My nature would restrain him from living the life he truly deserved. Eventually, he would come to realize this. He had to. I wanted him to, as much as it would torture me. When I burned, Beau was safe…

I had reached out, unconsciously, to put my finger against his lips—to stop him from making any more declarations.

"Does that make you… sad?" he asked.

Hmm. Perceptive. I opened my eyes and looked into his—gorgeous, clear, concerned… I exhaled heavily.

I would focus on today. Tomorrow would come later.

"Shall we?"

He glanced over his shoulder toward the microwave clock. "Isn't it a little ear—" He caught himself. "Wait, forget I asked that."

"Forgotten," I assured him, struggling to push my dampened mood aside. His small slip was just another sign that I did not belong in his world… My nature went against everything that was normal and predictable for him…

He deserved so much better than the black stain I brought upon his pure nature.

"Is this okay?" he checked, and gestured down his body, referring to his apparel.

I looked him over once. The dark blue sweater did wonderful and tempting things to his complexion, and his eyes. It clung to all the right places—his chest, his arms, his shoulders.

No, I thought, This is definitely not okay. He was utterly, indecently tempting, in all the right ways.

"You look…" I contemplated, flirting with my wording, and then settling on the perfect description, grinning at its sure-to-be-perceived double meaning, "Delicious."

He misunderstood. "Should I change?"

I laughed at his endearing absurdity and shook my head. "Never change, Beau."

I rose from my seat, and then stepped toward him, unable to resist his deliciousness. I stopped when our knees were touching. Lifting my hands to either side of his face to restrain him, I leaned slowly forward, until our faces were just an inch apart.

The palpable electricity burned between us, jumping and crackling in the sliver of space between our lips.

"Carefully," I warned him.

Cautiously, I inclined my head sideways and pressed my lips gently against his.

The erratic acceleration of his heart was predictable to me now—I had expected it. And so, when the flame of blood rush burst across my face and lips, I expected that, too. Because it hadn't come as a surprise, I pushed myself, experimenting—wondering just how far I could go, while keeping him safe, but while also indulging in the desires that were so apparent between us.

I kissed him slowly, softly, and as my confidence grew, I pressed my lips just a little bit more firmly to his, inhaling his sweet fragrance. I was surprised when the fire raced down my throat and burned, not only there, but extended out, from my lungs, across my breasts, flushing across my shoulders and down my stomach.

Floating in the warm, electric sensation, but still feeling very self-possessed, I let my fingers brush down his face, to hook under his jaw. I pulled his lips tighter to mine so I could taste more of him. The taste, the scent, the syrupy sweetness of him coated the inside of my mouth with ambrosia.

And then Beau went strangely limp.

"Beau?" I leaned back, supporting his weight with my outstretched arms, one on the back of his neck, one on his forehead, "Beau?"

His eyelids fluttered, and he murmured something unintelligible.

"What happened?" I demanded, "Are you all right?"

He drew two deep breaths and then opened his eyes. He looked fine, if a little dazed.

"I'm fine. Just… kind of forgot to breathe for a minute there. Sorry." He took another deep breath.

"You forgot to breathe?"

"I was trying to be careful."

Equal amounts of relief and exasperation coursed through me. "What am I supposed to do with you, Beau? Yesterday, I kiss you, and you attack me! Today, you pass out!"

"Sorry," he murmured.

I sighed and kissed him quickly on the forehead. "It's a good thing that it's physically impossible for me to have a heart attack."

"That is good," he said.

"I can't take you anywhere like this," I lamented. He didn't appear sick or dizzy like the last time, but I couldn't be totally sure.

"No, I'm fine," he maintained, "Really. Totally back to normal. Besides, your family is going to think I'm insane anyway, so what's the difference if I'm a little unsteady?"

I tried not to smile. "You mean more unsteady than usual?"

"Sure. Look, I'm trying not to think about what we're going to do now, so it would help if we could get going."

I wondered if his hesitance really was just normal boyfriend-meets-the-family anxiety, or if it was more than that... At any rate, I supposed I would find out soon enough.

…

"Wow."

Beau stared out the windshield of his truck, up at the faded white, restored colonial-style house Earnest and Archie had been working on for years—since the mid-fifties, between our many departures and returns.

I watched his eyes rake over its vastness, the refurbished windows and doors, the dark-shaded shutters—which were the original thing, except refurbished, the gallant beams that framed and supported the roof over-hanging the wrap-around porch.

"You like it?" I asked, watching the fascination flood his face.

"It's… really something," he said.

I was out the driver's side door and over to his in a flash, and I waited for him to push it open slowly, the apprehension returning to his face. The awe-struck interest in the house had been momentary and brief. Now, his eyes swam with the same anxiety they had in his kitchen a half an hour ago.

Inside, my family was nearly coming apart at the seams with enthralled anticipation.

"Be good," I warned Archie, my verbatim too quiet and quick for Beau to catch. From upstairs, Archie chuckled.

Of course, of course. When am I not good?

"Are you ready?" I inquired to Beau.

"Nope," he said, "Let's do this."

I laughed at his inconsistent words, remembering that, of course, Beau was brave, and he would face this challenge as he'd done everything else up until now—with fierce, unerring resolve.

Nervously, he crushed his hair against his skull.

"You look great," I assured him. The rooster tail gave him character, in addition to it being adorable. He was the most striking being I had ever laid eyes on. My family would adore him. Not nearly as much as I did, but they'd like him just the same.

Confident in this assumption, I gripped his hand and towed him through the deep shade of the cedar trees that shaded the house from outside view—it was a safeguard in case we were ever to have any unexpected visitors. The trees' cover would hide the effects of the unreliable sun on our skin.

Carine and Earnest were waiting for us when we stepped inside. They stood so still that Beau didn't notice them at first, standing on the platform with my white grand piano. First his eyes swept the large room—Archie and Earnest had knocked down many of the walls to create an airy, open space. They'd painted with varying shades of whites, creams and beiges. The color palette helped to lessen the severe fairness of our skin, even warmed it marginally.

Earnest's thoughts were bursting with delight.

Oh, Edythe, you make a perfect couple, he enthused. He was overjoyed to see his oldest and youngest daughter happy and whole and in love. He had suspected for so long that something had been missing from my indispensible disposition, that I had been changed too young, and so this unexpected change pleased him in more ways than he could articulate.

Beau's eyes settled on them now, taking in their unnatural, beatific postures.

Both of them smiled at Beau, but they stayed where they were—aware of the possibility that Beau might be afraid.

"Carine, Earnest," I said, my voice full of tenderness, "This is Beau." Myself, as well as my family members, were from earlier, more formal eras, and the introduction was more a ceremony of sorts than an actual introduction. Everyone knew each other's names already, of course.

My bosom swelled with pride as my parents took in the face of my love. They were entirely non-judgmental, and completely accepting.

"You're very welcome, Beau," Carine told him, and she stepped forward with careful assuredness. Her compassion was usually enough to put unaware humans at ease around her, but she knew that Beau was aware of what we were, and so she moved with extra caution. She extended her hand with slight trepidation, wondering whether Beau would accept the gesture or not.

But with more confidence and boldness than I had been expecting, Beau stepped forward and took her cool hand, shaking.

Her thoughts were surprised and impressed.

Hmm. He seems so confident, so unafraid… Even while knowing what he does of our nature… Remarkable…

"It's nice to see you again, Dr. Cullen," he told her.

"Please, call me Carine," she insisted, smiling amicably.

Beau grinned back. "Carine."

He fits in well here, Edythe, Carine thought serenely. She could see it, the way our family would be perfectly complete with Beau here.

I ignored that, and watched Earnest now step forward to shake Beau's hand.

"It's very nice to know you," he told him, and the phrase was genuine. He was more excited than maybe was usual for a typical father—but then, Earnest was not a typical father. He loved me with exceeding strength and devotion. In all senses of the phrase, he really did think of me as his 'little girl'. I was the youngest of all of us, in the physical sense—the oldest in others—and Earnest had always felt the two of us shared a special bond. Of course, he loved my other siblings just as much, but he'd always felt a deep craving for me to have the life he thought I deserved. He'd seen me work hard for the existence I'd made for myself, and he would have had a hard time accepting anything but the best for me. Beau, he had decided, was the best for me. He didn't know where our journey would end up, but he believed that love healed all wounds, all hardships and stood against all prosecution. Where there was a will, there was a way, in Earnest's view.

I agreed with him, on certain points.

"Where are Archie and Jess?" I asked aloud, knowing that he would indubitably take this inquiry as his cue. Where Beau couldn't see me, I rolled my eyes dramatically.

"Hey, Edy's home!" he called, and then darted down the stairs at vampire speed, coming to a stop only two feet from Beau. Carine and Earnest frowned disapprovingly at him, but he ignored them thoroughly.

Beau didn't look bothered—in fact, he looked a little amused.

"Beau!" Archie greeted him, and held out his hand.

Don't freak, Edy.

When Beau went to take it, Archie grasped Beau's hand and pulled him into a man's embrace, patting him gently on the back.

My jaw clenched anyway. I wasn't pleased about Archie's sudden proximity, nor his casual manner when it came to physical touch. But of course, I trusted Archie, and I knew he would never do anything to harm his 'new best friend'.

"Hey, Archie," Beau gasped, a little thrown. To my relief, he looked a little taken aback by Archie's forwardness, but not upset.

Carine and Earnest reacted more anxiously to Archie's advances than I had, and each of their minds were swirling with reprimands. Archie saw the coming conversation, but paid it no mind. It wouldn't stop his behavior—I knew that much, and I couldn't even see the future.

"You do smell good, I never noticed before," Archie added, and I made a face at him as heat burst into the air around Beau. I heard the acknowledgment in each of their thoughts as Beau's face went red.

Everyone was in control, but I leveled my eyes at Jessamine, who hung back by the stairs, warning her to keep her distance. She wouldn't go against my wishes; battle plans in the past, she was coming around to the idea of Beau. I was sure Archie had told her enough about him.

I felt her talent then, as she smoothed the awkward moment over with a sense of comradeship. I was suddenly completely comfortable and unbothered by Archie's inappropriate comment. Beau's flush faded quickly as a result.

"Hello, Beau," Jessamine greeted him now, smiling politely.

"Hello, Jessamine," he responded with a smile. Then he turned the gorgeousness of his smile on the rest of my family. My heart would have stuttered if able. "It's nice to meet you all—you have a very beautiful home."

"Thank you. We're so glad that you came," Earnest said. He was in awe of Beau's bravery and courage. So few humans had stepped through our doors before, and he was impressed. Very good, he praised silently.

Edythe.

I shifted only my eyes to Carine's face as Earnest and Beau discoursed, to show her I was listening.

Archie says we'll have some nomadic visitors soon—today or tomorrow, the timing was unsure. They'll be curious about our lifestyle, and they'll come to talk to us. I thought you should be aware.

I nodded once in acknowledgment.

Yes. I was glad Carine had made me aware. I tried to quell my instinctive anxiety, reminding myself that he was right here, and I focused on the smoldering fire burning between us, where our palms met.

"Do you play?" Earnest said to Beau, having noted his gaze stray to the piano.

He shook his head. "Not at all," he said, "But it's really beautiful. Is it yours?"

Earnest laughed, surprised that I hadn't told Beau of my musical talents. He was disappointed that I was withholding my abilities. "No. Didn't Edythe tell you she was musical?"

"Uh, she hasn't mentioned it. But I guess I should have known, right?"

We were all confused, but only Earnest raised his eyebrows in question.

"Is there anything she's not good at?" Beau elaborated.

Jess wasn't quick enough to hide her laughter. Right. Everything but staying away from the human boy!

Archie rolled his eyes, and Earnest gave me a mildly reproofing look.

"I hope you haven't been showing off. It's rude." Did he realize how paternal he sounded? He should have been proud.

"Oh, just a little bit," I told him, laughing.

I saw my face in his mind, the pure joy in my expression, the extra color in my cheeks, the sparkle in my eyes.

Edythe, he's made you so happy, he thought tenderly. I'm so glad for you, sweetheart.

"Edythe," he said out loud then, for the benefit of listening ears, "you should play for him."

"You just said showing off was rude," I retorted playfully.

"Make an exception." He turned his smile on Beau. "I'm being selfish," he confessed, "She doesn't play enough, and I love to hear her."

"I'd like to hear you play," Beau said to me.

Fine, then. I cast Earnest an exasperated look, and then turned to include Beau in my over-reaction as well. Only because they were making me. It was difficult enough to refuse Earnest, but when Beau joined in on the scheming, it was altogether impossible.

I let Beau's hand go and moved to sit at the piano. Without turning, I tapped the spot next to me on the bench. I glanced over my shoulder at him, waiting for him to join me. I wasn't willing to let him stand that far away from me. I was going to get as much of his closeness as I could, while I could.

Time was changing its meaning for me—where before, it had dragged and dragged, now, when I was with Beau, it passed much too quickly.

"Oh," Beau muttered, understanding, and rushed to take the seat next to me.

Once he was situated, I began to play Earnest's favorite composition. It was a complex piece, woven through with complicated counterpoints and underlying tenors. I played as quickly as the inanimate keys would allow.

Behind us, my family chuckled when Beau's mouth opened with an audible 'pop'.

I glanced over at his slack-jawed expression without stopping. "Do you like it?"

Understanding brightened his eyes immediately. "You wrote this," he surmised.

I nodded. "It's Earnest's favorite."

We'll leave you two lovebirds alone, Carine teased as she ushered the rest of my family from the room.

Down by the river, El and Royal were talking quietly. He hadn't wanted to be included in the introductions, and El had thought it best to stay with him as moral support.

"Look, babe," she was saying, hand on his knee, "Edythe's pretty serious about this guy. Whether you're happy about it or not, you're going to have to come around sometime… He'll be part of the family soon enough…"

Beau sighed, distracting me, and something in his eyes dimmed. Abruptly, his face fell.

"What's wrong?" I asked, concerned.

"I'm just… feeling a little insignificant," he murmured.

It didn't take me long to come up with a way to make him feel better. I braided the beginnings of Beau's nocturne into the original piece, gradually fading Earnest's song out until Beau's was center stage.

"I thought of this one while I watched you sleeping," I nearly whispered, suddenly shy, "It's your song."

He didn't speak, and I kept my eyes on the keys, though it was a needless effort.

"They like you quite a bit, you know. Earnest especially," I informed him.

Beau casted around, noticing that we were alone. He hadn't heard them step away.

"Where did they go?" he asked.

"Giving us some privacy. Subtle, aren't they?"

He laughed, and then abruptly, his face sank into a pout. "It's nice that they like me," he said, "I like them. But Royal and Eleanor…"

I did my best not to let my annoyance at my brother show. "Don't worry about Royal," I soothed him, "He's always the last to come around."

"Eleanor?" he prodded.

I laughed sharply. "El thinks I'm a lunatic, it's true," I conceded, "But she doesn't have a problem with you. She's off trying to reason with Royal now."

"What did I do? I mean, I've never even spoken to—"

I interjected before he could do more than entertain the idea that this was somehow his fault. "You didn't do anything, Beau, honestly. Royal struggles the most with what we are. It's hard for him to have someone on the outside know the truth. And he's a little jealous."

Beau snorted in disbelief.

I shrugged. The answer was obvious to me, but maybe that was merely because I had been able to read it so clearly in Royal's thoughts. "You're human," I summarized, "He wishes he were, too."

"Oh."

He was contemplative for a moment, and I gave him space to think, continuing to play.

"That thing Jessamine does feels really… not strange, I guess," he finally mused, "It was kind of incredible."

I laughed agreeably. It had been amazing to me, too, when I'd first experienced it. "Words don't fully do it justice, do they?"

"Not really," he agreed, "But… does she like me? She seemed…"

"That was my fault," I interjected again, "I told you she was the most recent to try our way of life. I warned her to keep her distance." Not to mention the fact that she had been intent on ending his life against my will, just a mere few weeks ago.

"Oh," he said again, and I could hear the comprehension in his voice.

"Indeed… Carine and Earnest think you're wonderful," I assured him. After all his self-doubt, I wanted to give him something positive.

"Huh," he said, "I really didn't do anything very exciting. Shook a few hands."

"They're happy to see me happy. Earnest probably wouldn't care if you had a third eye and webbed feet. All this time he's been worrying about me, afraid I was too young when Carine changed me, that there was something missing from my essential makeup. He's so relieved. Every time I touch you, he practically bursts into applause."

"Archie's enthusiastic," he noted.

I grimaced. "Archie has his own special perspective on life." On Beau's especially…

He gazed down at me, a question rising in his eyes.

"What?"

"You're not going to explain what you mean by that, are you?" he guessed.

I narrowed my eyes at him, debating this. Would I tell him? One day? Obviously he was suspicious of my keeping something from him—he was very perceptive, after all. I decided to keep it to myself as long as time would allow. I didn't want to think about all the different reactions he might have to the discussion of eternal damnation. I wanted to shudder just imagining them. Surely, he would not stand for that. Surely, he would leave me when he discovered this part of the possible equation… I was set on not bringing it to fruition, but nevertheless… How could he ever want that?

"Okay," Beau said confidently, as if a conversation had just played out between the two of us, though a word had not been uttered.

"Hmm."

"So what was Carine telling you before?"

I kept my gaze down, again paying needless attention to the keys. "You noticed that, did you?"

"Of course."

I deliberated for a moment, watching his face. How would he react to this news? With his same ill-placed, stoic acceptance; or would this be the thing that sent him running for the hills, or careening into shock?

"She wanted to tell me some news," I finally said. "She didn't know if it was something I would share with you."

"Will you?" he requested.

"It's probably a good idea," I relented, "My behavior might be a little… odd for the next few days—or weeks. A little maniacal. So it's best if I explain myself beforehand."

"What's wrong?" he worried.

"Nothing's wrong, exactly," I reassured him, "Archie just sees some visitors coming soon. They know we're here, and they're curious."

"Visitors?" he repeated.

"Yes… like us, but not. Their hunting habits are not like ours, I mean. They probably won't come into town at all, but I won't be letting you out of my sight till they're gone."

"Wow," he replied, "Shouldn't we… I mean, is there a way to warn people?"

I admired his compassion, but as much as my family and I strived to banish the monsters from inside ourselves, the majority of our kind did not see the preservation of human life in the same way. "Carine will ask them not to hunt nearby, as a courtesy, and most likely they won't have a problem with that. But we can't do more, for a variety of reasons." I exhaled heavily. "They won't be hunting here, but they'll be hunting somewhere. That's just how things are when you live in a world with monsters."

He shivered, and I was surprised at the strength of the course of relief that shook me.

"Finally," I muttered, "a rational response. I was beginning to think you had no sense of self-preservation at all."

He didn't respond, he was looking around the room.

"It's not what you expected, is it?" I teased. I wondered if he really was thinking about our living space, wondering about all it entailed—or, rather, did not—or if his mind was steadily spiraling into horror, despair and shock. I hoped I could joke the answer out of him.

"No," he admitted.

"No coffins, no piled skulls in the corners; I don't even think we have cobwebs… what a disappointment this must be for you," I quipped.

"I didn't expect it to be so light and so… open."

"It's the one place we never have to hide," I stated, serious now.

His lullaby was coming to an end, drifting toward the irrefutable, melancholic end. The last note hung in the air, almost palpable in its irresolvable sadness. I felt the weight of it in my chest—mourning our inevitable ending. Because it would come, eventually.

Beau cleared his throat. "Thank you."

I stared into his eyes, seeing the sadness there, watching the emotion pass like sand through a sieve. They were soft with affection, and I allowed myself to bask in their bright warmth for a time.

I didn't see how I could change the ending of the story. This adventure of ours felt like a fairy tale now, but how could it contain a happy ending, when a monster was in love with an angel?

Finally, I sighed, shaking my head—coming up with no foreseeable solution.

"Would you like to see the rest of the house?"

"Will there be piled skulls in any corners?"

I struggled to resurrect my lighter mood from before. "Sorry to disappoint."

"Well, okay, but my expectations are pretty low now," he quipped, and I forced a smile—knowing it didn't quite meet my eyes.

I took his hand and guided him up the grand staircase to the second floor, naming rooms as we passed them.

"Royal and Eleanor's room… Carine's office… Archie's room…" I would have continued, but Beau came to an abrupt, skittish halt at the end of the corridor, staring at the wall in front of us.

I laughed at his aghast, bewildered expression.

"Ironic, I know."

"It must be very old."

I shrugged. As I'd stated before, time meant something different to the immortal than it did to the mortal. "Early sixteen-thirties, more or less."

Finally, he tore his eyes away from the large, ornamental cross hanging on the wall to gaze down at me.

"Why do you have this here?"

"Nostalgia. It belonged to Carine's father."

"He collected antiques?"

"No." I paused for hardly a fraction of a second, deliberating. "He carved this himself. It hung on the wall above the pulpit in the vicarage where he preached."

Beau attempted, insufficiently, to cover his shock as he turned his eyes back to the cross. I could see him working through the mental math. His eyebrows had pulled together, just slightly—I would have suspected he was simply concentrating on the mathematical task at hand if the topic hadn't quite been so personal.

"Are you all right?"

"How old is Carine?" His voice was quiet, and he kept his gaze averted.

"She just celebrated her three-hundred and sixty-second birthday," I indulged him, wondering how he would take this. Would this be the straw that broke the camel's back? "Carine was born in London in the sixteen-forties, she believes. Time wasn't marked as accurately then, for the common people anyway. It was just before Cromwell's rule, though."

He wasn't staggering away from me in horror yet, so I continued.

"She was the only daughter of an Anglican pastor. Her mother died in childbirth. Her father was… a hard man. Driven. He believed very strongly in the reality of evil. He led hunts for witches, werewolves… and vampires. They burned a lot of innocent people—of course, the real creatures that he sought were not so easy to catch.

Carine did what she could to protect these innocents. She was always a believer in the scientific method, and she tried to convince her father to look past superstition to true evidence. He discouraged her involvement. He did love her, and those who defended monsters were often lumped in with them.

"Her father was persistent… and obsessive. Against the odds, he tracked some evidence of real monsters. Carine begged him to be careful, and he listened, to an extent. Rather than charge in blindly, he waited and watched for a long time. He spied on a coven of true vampires who lived in the city sewers, only coming out by night to hunt. In those days, when monsters were not just myths and legends, that was the way many lived.

"His people gathered their pitchforks and torches, of course"—I laughed without humor. To think they assumed that was all it would take!—"and waited where the pastor had seen the monsters exit into the street. There were two access points. The pastor and a few of his men poured a vat of burning pitch into one, while the others waited beside the second for the monsters to emerge.

"Nothing happened. They waited a long time, and then left disappointed. The pastor was angry—there must have been other exits, and the vampires had obviously fled in fear. Of course, the men with their crude spears and axes weren't any kind of danger to a vampire, but he didn't know that. Now that they were warned, how would he ever find his monsters again?"

I paused, loath to continue. This part of the story had always troubled me, and I wondered if it would bring trouble to Beau, also. But I had decided that I would not shelter him any longer from these possibly disturbing facets of our history. I would allow him to process them as he so saw fit.

"It wasn't hard. He must have annoyed them. Vampires can't afford notoriety, or these probably would have simply massacred the entire mob. Instead, one of them followed him home.

Carine remembers the night clearly—for a human memory. It was the kind of thing that would stick in your mind." I could feel the claws of her memory dragging me back, with unrelenting force, swallowing me whole in their blackness. "Her father came home very late, or rather very early. Carine had waited up, worried. He was furious, ranting and raving about his loss. Carine tried to calm him, but he ignored her. And then there was a man in the middle of their small room.

Carine says he was ragged, dressed like a beggar, but his face was beautiful and he spoke in Latin. Because of her father's vocation and her own curiosity, Carine was unusually educated for a woman in those days—she understood what the man said. He told her father that he was a fool and he would pay for the damage he had caused. The preacher threw himself in front of his daughter to protect her…

"I often wonder about that moment. If he hadn't revealed what he loved most, would all our stories have changed?"

I considered that for a moment—the possibility of Carine, going on to live a full, human life. Dying in her time—and as a result, each of us succumbing to our own demises—influenza, suicide, mafia beatings, bear attacks… And if I had died nearly one hundred years ago like fate might have liked… I would never have lived long enough to meet Beau. I had never resented Carine for changing me, but in this moment, I had never been more glad for my immortal nature.

"The vampire smiled. He told the preacher, 'Go to your hell knowing this—that what you love will become all that you hate.'

He tossed the preacher to the side and grabbed Carine—" Inhaling the scorching air between us brought me back to the present, and I stared into Beau's eyes, remembering that I needed to be careful with these next words. I did not want to concern him with needless details.

"What happened?" he prodded.

I formed the sentences carefully. "He made sure that the preacher knew what would happen to Carine, and then he killed the preacher very slowly while Carine watched, writhing in pain and horror."

Beau flinched, and I nodded sympathetically. It was an awful, heartbreaking story.

"The vampire left," I went on, "Carine knew her fate if someone found her in this condition. Anything infected by the monster would have to be destroyed. She acted instinctively to save her own life. Despite the pain she was in, she crawled into the cellar and buried herself in a pile of rotting potatoes for three days. It's a miracle she was able to keep silent, to stay undiscovered.

It was over then, and she realized what she had become."

I examined Beau's face for any signs of shock, but other than the one moment of recoil, he'd stayed serene and cool through the entire tale.

"How are you feeling?" I asked him. Suddenly, I was glad for the copious amounts of sugar and caffeine downstairs—if Earnest hadn't done away with it all, yet. We might need it if Beau happened to lapse into shock.

"I'm good," he said, though, and his voice was steady and strong. "What happened next?"

I half-smiled, impressed by his unrelenting fervor and bravery. I turned back toward Carine's office, linking my hand with his again.

"Come on, then. I'll show you."

…

A/N: I'm beginning to realize that I empathize with Edythe more than I'd realized. She believes in heaven and hell; and she believes she knows her place amongst those two worlds. She tries very, very hard to overcome her 'sinful' nature, and to transcend the way of life she never wanted to resign herself to.

It makes it easier to understand her angst, her struggle, her continuous self-sacrificing nature. I was so, so angry with Edward when I first read New Moon—I was… I don't know… fourteen or fifteen, and I knew nothing of love, nothing of life, nothing of sin and redemption…

Now that the years have passed and I've grown in my relationship with the Lord, and I've fallen in love—like true, REAL love—I get it. I understand. I would leave in a heartbeat if it proved safer for my husband.

And maybe I'm thinking too much about it… Possibly, I am. But I've developed a very odd kinship with this metaphorical character. Ah, Edythe. I get you, girl.

Leave your thoughts in a review if you'd like! See you soon! xo