Daybreak: Her Side Of The Story

by WinterSunshine

"In that moment, something shifted inside me, not in a physiological way, but on a much, much deeper level. In this moment, I was forever changed, by the seemingly simple human boy sleeping in the bed across the room from me." [Life and Death/Midnight Sun, from Edythe's POV/perspective.] Canon pairings, etc, etc.

17. The Game

A/N: "Thunder" by Imagine Dragons would fit perfectly into the ball game montage. If you haven't heard the song, go listen to it. It's a fun one. In fact, pretty much anything by Imagine Dragons is awesome, in my books.

Uploads are happening more frequently now because I'm far enough ahead with the rough drafts that I feel comfortable. Are you keeping up? ;)

Enjoy this one, lovelies!

…

It was just beginning to spit rain when I pulled the truck onto Beau's street. According to Archie, the storm wasn't due to hit for several more hours. I hadn't been paying close enough attention, my mind still lingering back in my bedroom, and so I was taken by surprise by the humans standing on the front porch, shielding themselves from the light rain, under the eave.

I would have disapproved anyway—I had been hoping to spend some of the afternoon at Beau's side, as he whiled the Sunday afternoon away as he usually did. Homework, household chores… But then I caught Bonnie Black's intentions.

"Damn those meddlesome Quileutes," I muttered angrily under my breath. I parked against the curb and glared at the two people standing at the door. Bonnie was resolute; Julie Black was mortified, and nervous about being near Beau again. Her infatuation had not faded, I noted with censure.

Bonnie was still piecing together her soliloquy, how she would go about warning Charlie about my dangerous interference in her son's life, all without breaking the treaty. That, and without upsetting Charlie. Apparently they'd butted heads over this in the past.

"This is crossing the line," I spat, outraged. I had thought this red flag had been averted!

"She came to warn Charlie?" Beau guessed.

I nodded, narrowing my eyes at Bonnie Black. She stared me down with a stone-hard expression, her thoughts disparaging and critical. Underneath the disapproval, she was terrified of me, and that made me smug.

"Let me deal with this," Beau said then.

"That's probably for the best," I agreed. I couldn't completely trust myself with my heightened state of emotion at this time, and I didn't want to give the middle-aged woman more reason to warn the Swans off. "Be careful, though. The child has no idea."

"Child?" Beau blurted, "You know, Jules is not that much younger than I am."

"Oh, I know." I grinned at him. I was surprised by the intensity of the possessive jealousy coursing through me. Julie Black was infatuated by my Beau, and I wasn't keen on putting her in any good light. He was mine.

"Get them inside so I can leave. I'll be back around dusk." I hated to leave, but it was time. I could not stay here. Besides, I had conversations to attend to…

"You can take the truck."

I rolled my eyes at his offer. "I could walk home faster than this truck moves."

"You don't have to go," he protested, his tone dejected.

Affectionately, I laid the tip of my finger against the corner of his downturned lips. "Actually, I do," I insisted glumly. "After you get rid of them, you still have to prepare Charlie to meet your new girlfriend." And my tone brightened at that.

I knew this would distract him, and I laughed at his less-than-ecstatic expression.

"I'll be back soon," I vowed to him. Then I checked to see if the Blacks were still watching. With mischievous delight, finding that they were, I bowed my head to press my lips briefly to Beau's neck.

Bonnie's vision went metaphorically red, and her thoughts were a conglomeration of outraged displeasure.

"Soon," Beau insisted when I pulled back. Then he pushed his door open and stepped out onto the curb.

I watched with unerring anxiety as he jogged toward the cover of the overhanging roof and greeted the Blacks.

"Charlie's gone for the day," he told them, "I hope you haven't been waiting long." His tone was unduly upbeat, and Bonnie didn't miss that. Her intuition flashed. She suspected he knew my secrets, and I cursed quietly.

"Not long," she said now, trying very hard to ignore my presence, "I just wanted to bring this up." She pointed to the large, stinking paper sack in her lap.

"Thanks. Why don't you come in for a minute and dry off?"

He unlocked the door and let the ladies in ahead of himself. Julie's thoughts were giddy and shy when he shot her a half-smile as she passed. My hands fisted in my pockets.

Man, those eyes! she sighed internally, completely smitten. She didn't quite approve of her mother's pushiness, but she was glad for the opportunity to see Beau again either way.

Beau turned to cast one long glance at me, eyes locking with mine.

I had no patience for Bonnie's intrusive meddling, or Julie's girlish pining, and as soon as the door shut behind them, I headed for home.

…

El and Royal were in the garage when I arrived.

"Hey," El greeted me. She was sitting on the floor, acting as a jack for Royal, while he worked on the undercarriage of his car. "You playing ball later?"

"Of course," I replied. "Is it alright if I borrow the Jeep? To drive Beau to the end of the road?"

Royal made a sound of disgust in the back of his throat, and I tensed.

I barely heard El's assent, because I'd whirled toward my brother now and was glaring at him. "Do you have something to say to me?" I snapped at him.

I was beyond irked with his insolence—even if I knew what caused it. The rest of my family, despite their various differences, had accepted Beau and welcomed him with metaphorical open arms. I couldn't see why Royal wouldn't just put his feelings aside, for once, and do the same.

He ducked out from under the car and sat up to appraise me with hard eyes. "Not particularly."

I felt my top lip pull back into a snarl. "I'm not going to stand for your behavior anymore, Royal, I mean it—I've given you plenty of liberty, but if there is one thing I want you to understand, it is this: Beau is my life now, and I have no more tolerance for your crass attitude. If you have a problem, take it up with me. Beau stays out of this. He will be at the game tonight, and if I hear so much as a leering snarl from your mouth, you will regret it. I don't expect you to change your thoughts, but your actions toward Beau will change, and they will change starting now."

Royal's thoughts were sullen and angry, but wisely, he did not say anything. He only stared me down, his expression coiling in response to mine.

"Got it?" I snapped.

He rolled his eyes.

I snarled in furious exasperation, and then El was there between us, a hand on my shoulder.

Chill out, she thought. She didn't like to see us fight, though it happened regularly enough. Get out of here and cool off.

Royal was standing now, towering over me, but I did not back down from my offensive position. I was not retreating until I knew I had his word.

You want to know what I think? His eyes were narrowed, the gold in them glinting with fury.

"Do tell me," I hissed acridly.

I think your tragic little love story is over before it's started. Are you really so dull to not see how this will inevitably end? He's human, Edythe. Your world and his do not fit together. He'll age, and grow to want things you can't give him—things you won't ever be able to give him. It's only a matter of time before he winds up dead—

An infuriated snarl ripped up my throat, and I lurched forward. But Eleanor held onto my arm, impeding my attack.

I felt exposed and vulnerable in the face of Royal's musings. It wasn't that I didn't believe his words—in fact, I believed every last one of them. But I wasn't resigned to the future he predicted for us. I would do everything in my power to forge a new path—a path of safety and security for Beau.

"You shut the hell up!" I demanded, my voice shrill and metallic with rage. I hurled a few colorful insults at him before Earnest was standing in the garage doorway.

Royal didn't say another word, but his thoughts were smug—he knew he'd hit a nerve, and that was enough for him to feel satisfied about the whole thing.

"That's enough," Earnest said now, his voice low and authoritative. "Edythe? A word, please?"

I didn't take my glare off Royal. I suppressed the sudden urge to tear his arm from his body. It wouldn't permanently injure him; he'd piece himself back together easily enough, but it would sure hurt like hell, and that would satisfy me. It wasn't enough that he'd been so willing to kill Beau weeks ago. It wasn't enough that, even in the face of all the risks and chances Beau was taking, Royal still somehow found a way to make it about himself. He had to hate Beau for reasons that went beyond his own petty jealousy, too. Most of all, I hated that he was right.

"Edythe," Earnest repeated now.

I turned slowly away from Eleanor and Royal, keeping my eyes on his until the last second. As I jerked my arm from El's grasp, I turned to let a terrifying roar issue from between my teeth. My quick advance took El off guard, and so I was able to move past her, to sneer into Royal's face before she could react.

"Edythe," Earnest said again, more firmly.

I stared for just a moment longer at the non-reaction on Royal's face, arms folded securely across his chest, one eyebrow raised cockily. I wanted to reach up and smack that self-righteous simper off his face, I really did, but I could hear, underneath the firm paternal authority, Earnest's anxious and concerned thoughts. He didn't want a fight breaking out—he hated any sort of confrontational violence, and so I jerked myself out of my bellicose stance and stalked out the door. A moment later, Earnest followed me toward the house.

Upstairs, I slouched sullenly into the chair in Earnest's office. There were blueprints spread out on his desk, and paint samples on the conversation table across the room. In the corner, Tchaikovsky's Waltz of the Flowers played on his stereo, and I immersed myself in the notes, knowing it would help to calm me.

Allow your mother and I to work on Roy. His distress is understandable. El has been talking at length with him about it. Give him some grace.

"Grace," I scoffed, folding my arms petulantly across my chest.

Royal is your brother. Earnest's inner voice was fiercer now. We are a family, and I expect you two to act like it. He'll come around sooner or later.

I sighed and lifted my eyes to his. "Let's hope it's sooner."

Earnest heard my tone relax and offered me a small sympathetic smile, his eyes twinkling. Let's, he agreed.

He came to sit on the armrest of the chair I was curled up in, and wrapped an arm around me. He pulled me to his chest, resting his cheek on top of my head. For a short moment, neither of us said anything. We sat in companionable silence until my territorial fury had faded completely.

Then Earnest sighed.

He's a very brave boy. We didn't scare him too much?

I smirked, my head still against his shoulder. "Not one bit," I assured him, "Beau is… Resilient."

Clearly.

"He's coming to the baseball game," I added.

Ah. Wonderful. I'll have a chance to get to know him a bit better… He really is perfect for you, Edythe. You two are wonderful together… I have faith in you, dear daughter. You'll find some sort of compromise—and whichever conclusion you come to, we'll support you wholeheartedly.

"All except for Royal," I muttered, but the bitter acid was gone from my tone. The territorial anger had passed, and I was sure Royal would comply with my request to show some class from now on.

Earnest laughed out loud now. "Ah," he murmured, "We'll keep working on Royal." He smoothed his hand over the top of my head and then leant over to kiss my hair. "Run along now, and make your preparations," he urged, "We'll meet you at the field."

…

The rain had picked up significantly by the time I pulled into Beau's neighborhood. It was pelting down in sheets, and in the distance, I watched sheet lightening turn the sky electric lilac.

Yes, the storm would be impressive—of course, Archie had been correct in that assumption. Also true to his predictions, it appeared to be heading west, and would keep a safe distance from us out east.

El's Jeep was… Notable, to say the least. It was fitted with top-grade oversized tires—coming up past my waist. It was also equipped with fog lights, light guards, and a roll bar. I hardly felt the need to ride along with Eleanor in the Jeep most of the time, but I had assumed it would provide adequate protection for Beau, until we got to the end of the logger path. I wouldn't carry Beau through the pouring rain. It wouldn't bother me, but I was sure it would at least cause him some discomfort. I didn't want him catching cold. Besides, I had pretenses to keep up for the Chief.

I was just in time to hear Charlie's raucous laughter, and I didn't have to wait long to hear the reasoning behind it.

"I hope you're getting that out of your system now." Beau sounded disapproving, but of course, I did not know why.

"Baseball, huh?" Charlie was still chortling, "You must really like this girl."

Ah, he had told his father about me. That was good. It got some of the pre-emptives out of the way. I found brief amusement in the object of his humor—Beau, playing baseball—but the humor evaporated at the sound of Beau's response.

"Yeah. I really do." I did not miss the ardor in his voice, and I didn't think Charlie did, either, because his thoughts turned curious.

I pulled up to the house then, and cut the engine.

"That her?"

"Maybe…"

Of course, I thought as I headed up the driveway, he wouldn't recognize the sound of this vehicle. I noted with some amusement that it was nearly as loud as his truck was. However, it sounded far healthier.

I rang the bell and then stepped back to await my reception. There were racing footsteps down the hallway on the other side of the door, bodies bumping against each other, and then a hand twisting the doorknob jerkily. I struggled to hide my mirth.

"Pushy much?" I heard Charlie mutter.

Beau yanked the door open wide, and then stared. Behind him, I registered the shock combined with the intimidation in Charlie's mind. Obviously, the lack of preservation was not hereditary. Charlie saw me as the predator I was—or could be, if I weren't keeping up a front.

Now, I laughed my soft, gentle laugh—the one I knew would most likely put Charlie at ease. "Can I come in?" I teased.

"Oh—yeah!" Beau blurted, and jumped back out of the doorframe to let me through, smacking right into his father in the process. "Of course. Can I take your jacket?"

"Please." I passed it to him, and he hung it up, fumbling it once. Once that was arranged, we went into the sitting room. I took the armchair, forcing Beau to take a seat beside his father on the loveseat. I wanted to watch his face as this conversation played out.

"So, Edythe," Charlie said conventionally, "How are your parents?"

"Excellent, thank you, Chief Swan," I replied, intent on being at my best. Regardless of the circumstances, I was still meeting my love interest's father for the first time, and my old-fashioned etiquette was not so dormant that I had forgotten how to use it.

It would please me to have Chief Swan like me, to be able to trust me with his son, no matter how ill assumed it was. Also, part of me hoped I would eventually convince him to think of me in higher regard than the Newton girl—but that was only secondary, of course.

"You can call me Charlie," he said, smiling easily, "I'm off the clock."

"Thanks, Charlie." I grinned.

He stared blankly for a moment, his thoughts numb. A second later, he recouped. "So, um, you're playing baseball tonight?"

"Yes," I confirmed. "Hopefully Beau doesn't mind hanging out with my family too much." In other words, I'm so sorry that Royal will be there.

Beau started to say something—probably to protest, despite his obvious discomfort in my least-favorite brother's presence—but Charlie forged ahead. "I'd say it was the baseball he'd mind more."

Surprisingly clear, I could sense a memory in Charlie's mind. The summers he'd come to stay, Beau had apparently been put in little-league softball. He had never had any success—in fact, quite a few of the opposite occurrences—but the images of little, blue-eyed Beau were undeniably adorable. Even then, at four years old, he'd been gawkily enchanting.

Charlie and I laughed together at the memory—though he was sure I was laughing at his quip.

Beau shot his father an expression of mortified betrayal. Charlie didn't notice. Little did he know, Charlie had shared more with me than he'd realized. It was just as adequate as baby pictures, without the employment of a photo album.

"Should we be on our way?" Beau asked, obviously uncomfortable. His knee bounced jerkily.

"We're not in any hurry," I teased—at least, I wasn't.

Beau's elbow shot out to knock against his father, warning him not to embarrass him anymore, and I felt my grin widen at his ineffectual behavior. I was quite enjoying making Beau uncomfortable this way. It was rather captivating.

"Oh, uh, yeah." Charlie clued in, then. "You kids go ahead, I've got a… a bunch of stuff to get to…"

I got to my feet. "It was lovely to see you, Charlie."

"Yes," he agreed, "You come visit anytime, Edythe."

"Thank you, you're very kind."

We all walked back to the front door together. Charlie was feeling self-conscious and nervous, and there was a hint of self-recrimination in his thoughts. I wondered at the reasoning behind that.

"Will you kids be out super late?" he inquired.

Beau looked to me for an answer.

"No," I said, "we'll be reasonable."

"Don't wait up, though," Beau added.

He helped me into my jacket and then opened the door for me. I slid past him, out onto the porch, Beau right behind me. And then he skidded to an abrupt halt—knees locking like a skittish colt's.

His wide eyes were fixed on the Jeep, taking in its monstrous size, its shiny red sheen, intensified by the raindrops dotting its hood and hardtop.

In the doorway behind us, Charlie whistled—I couldn't clearly discern whether it was impressiveness or wariness that he was feeling. Maybe a bit of both. "Wear your seatbelts," he said.

Beau got the driver's side door for me, and I hopped in—glad that I'd parked with the passenger door to the house so that I could just hop on up, and not have to pretend to struggle.

I turned the ignition on, and then the heater reflexively. Beau got in on the other side, scrambling and nearly falling out once—though I was ready to catch him by the arm.

But he situated himself in the seat and automatically reached for his seatbelt, and then paused.

"What—er," he said, "What is all this? How do I…?"

"Off-roading harness."

Beau's scent was a physical entity inside the Jeep. Its notes swirled like wildfire in my throat, and I was taken quite by surprise by the venom that flooded my mouth, and the reflex that curled my muscles like a snake, poised to attack. I took a minute to compose myself.

"Um…" Beau said, entirely oblivious to my struggle.

He fumbled with the straps for half a second before I jumped in to help. I was surprised by the new intense desires that overtook my hunting instinct as my hands lingered on his sturdy shoulders and chest. The fire that sparked in my fingertips when they touched the bare skin of his neck, just above the collar of his rain jacket, was electrifying.

"Er, thanks," he said once I'd leaned back in my seat, hands on the wheel.

"You're welcome."

I pulled away from the curb, focused on moderating the dueling cravings inside me. One for his blood; the other for his body.

"This is a… um… large Jeep you have."

"It's Eleanor's," I explained, "She let me borrow it so we wouldn't have to run the whole way."

"Where do you keep this thing?" His tone was astonished.

"We remodeled one of the outbuildings into a garage."

There was a brief pause, and Beau's breathing cut off.

"Wait," he said, "Run the whole way? As in, we're still going to run part of the way?" He sounded slightly panicked.

I pursed my lips to quash the smile of amusement that wanted to rise. "You're not going to run," I joked.

He groaned softly. "I'm going to puke in front of your family."

"Keep your eyes closed," I suggested, "You'll be fine."

He shook his head, exhaling heavily, and then seemed to put the dilemma behind him. Yes, Beau was brave. Exceedingly so, and I felt a touch of pride. Despite what had happened last time, he was willing to give my form of transportation another chance. I appreciated that.

Then he reached over and weaved his fingers between mine. The resulting glowing heat was immediate—originating in my palm, and snaking up my arm, across my shoulder, and into my heart in one instantaneous motion. Like being injected with sunlight.

"Hi, I missed you." His voice was quiet, tender.

It had been a mere couple of hours since we'd parted—and now I understood the two young lovers from Romeo and Juliet… Parting is such sweet sorrow…

I was reminded again of just how differently I perceived time now—how my afternoon away from Beau had seemed so insurmountable.

I laughed at the dizzying change of perspective. "I missed you, too. Isn't that strange?"

"Why strange?" he asked.

"You'd think I'd have learned more patience over the last hundred years. And here I am, finding it difficult to pass an afternoon without you." It was ridiculous, really.

"I'm glad it's not just me," he confided.

I stretched across the space between us and kissed him quickly on the cheek. The fragrance of his skin stabbed down my throat. I leaned back, sighing.

"You smell even better in the rain."

"In a good way or a bad way?" he queried.

I frowned, disappointed in myself for my lack of control. Here I'd thought I'd done so well over the past twenty-four hours—and I was struggling, again, with the warring instincts. I had hoped this would have changed. I had hoped it would get better with practice, with time, and I was angry with myself that I wasn't just able to overcome the struggle already.

I turned onto the abandoned logging trail, which was really more path than road, it was so rudimental. I had to drive much more slowly than I would have liked to prevent injuring Beau. His belts were fastened securely, but that didn't stop him from jolting up and down in his seat the whole time.

The path took us into the dense forest for several miles before we reached the end, and I turned the ignition off. The headlights went out, and impenetrable jade, brown and purple shapes surrounded us.

Out here, the rain was nearly non-existent, and over the trees in the distance, off toward the field, the clouds were diminishing. We would outrun the drizzle in no time at all.

"Sorry, Beau, we have to go on foot from here," I apologized.

"You know what?" Did I detect a tremor in his voice? "I'll just wait here."

"What happened to all your courage?" I teased, "You were extraordinary this morning."

"I haven't forgotten the last time," he explained. His face was noticeably paler than usual.

So this would take some persuasion, then…

I hopped out of the Jeep and went around to his side, pulling open his door. I perched on the side-step and started undoing the buckles.

"I'll get those, you go on ahead," he argued.

But I was finished with the harness before he'd gotten halfway through the sentence.

Beau did not move. He sat unmoving in his seat, his panic-stricken, wary eyes fixed on my face.

"You don't trust me?" I batted my eyelashes at him, feigning hurt.

"That really isn't the issue," he protested, his voice tight with stress, "Trust and motion sickness have zero relationship to each other."

Hmm… Teasing wasn't working—I supposed I would have to pursue another avenue of action.

I remembered just how strong two of my own desires were, and how the craving for his body often outdid that for his blood. I thought about how my fears and anxieties often diminished in the face of our shared physical affection.

If I could just… Distract him… Maybe he would go along with my requests without too much trouble.

"Do you remember what I was saying about mind over matter?"

"Yes…" He sounded distrustful, careful.

"Maybe if you concentrated on something else…?"

"Like what?" He blinked at me, clueless.

I boosted myself up so that I was eye-level with him, settling my denim-clad knee on the seat next to his hip, and my hands on his shoulders. The warmth of his proximity palpitated against my skin, and a familiar tingling heat resonated in my lips—a physical remembrance of our former shared kisses.

"Keep breathing," I reminded him.

"How?" he gasped breathlessly.

I grinned in amusement, and then lapsed back into seriousness, the sensations he was creating in me swirling through my belly. The muscles of my core felt tight in an odd way, and the electric current passing up and down along my body was growing in intensity.

"When we're running—and yes, that part is nonnegotiable—I want you to concentrate on this."

The passionate eagerness had flared from somewhere deep inside me. It was like an itch that got worse every time I scratched it, and I was astonished at how difficult it was to resist.

So for now, with my head swirling, but otherwise very much in control, I forgot about boundaries, and complied with what the frenetic, smoldering longings my body craved.

I leaned in, touching my cheek softly to his, and closed my eyes. Each frantic throb of his heart vibrated through the rest of his body, the vessels underneath his skin pulsing against my cold stillness.

Making sure not to press too hard, I slid one of my hands very slowly down the center of his chest, to his waist.

"Just remember us…" I breathed against the outer shell of his ear, "Like this…"

With whisper-soft gentleness, I took his earlobe between my lips—keeping my teeth very carefully hidden away—and tugged. Then I moved my lips across the striking edge of his jaw, and down the fine pillar of his throat. His scent and pulse were stronger here, the vulnerable membrane throbbing against my lips.

"Breathe, Beau," I murmured against his skin, for he'd been holding his breath.

He drew a loud, jagged breath.

Then I dragged my lips back up over his jaw, and across the delicate shape of his pronounced cheekbone.

"Still worried?"

"Huh?" he breathed.

I giggled softly. It seemed my plan was working.

It was a heady mix—being made aware of the power I held over his body in this way, as well as the sensations being this close to him evoked in myself.

I put my hands on his face, holding him in place while I kissed each fluttering eyelid.

"Edythe," he whispered, and there was such ardent passion in his voice, it caused some coil to snap within me, and suddenly, I was being far from careful.

I crushed my lips to his, harder than I should have, but I was self-possessed enough to know that it wasn't too hard. In distracting Beau, I had more-than-sufficiently distracted myself, and I was leading solely with the desires now, too enamored to think totally logically.

Beau responded eagerly and immediately. His arms curled around my waist, fingers clawing and fisting at the slippery material of my jacket, and his lips parted against mine, exhaling his sweet fragrance across my face.

I wanted to ravage him, devour him… And like a switch—suddenly, it wasn't the lust for his body I was fighting anymore.

Before my hunting instinct could take over—the side that wanted to fist his hair in my hand, tug his head to one side, run my tongue up the blue trail of his carotid artery, and then sink my teeth through the thin, fragrant skin of his throat—I launched myself out of his arms and away from the Jeep. I landed on my feet in the forest bracken ten feet back, my back slamming into a thick madrone. It shuddered and swayed under the force of my impact.

"Dammit Beau!"

He blinked torpidly, chest heaving with frantic breaths. "Sorry," he wheezed.

I gazed at him carefully, waiting for my tight muscles to relax, the throbbing in my jaws to subside, for the venom to stop inundating my mouth. I was relieved to find that this time, the instinct was fading faster. Already, I felt a modicum of sanity returning. I took a deep breath of the damp pine-scented air.

Beau turned himself sideways in the seat and then staggered from the Jeep. I wasn't controlled enough to help him in case he fell; I stayed where I was, unsure if it was safe enough yet for me to be close to him.

Some of the muscles in my arms and shoulders loosened.

He took a measured step toward me, his boot crunching rotting leaves and twigs underfoot. It was the only sound in the forest around us. Distantly, over the town, thunder rolled, an ominous sound.

"I truly do think you'll be the death of me, Beau."

He tensed. "What?"

I inhaled deeply once more, tasting his essence in the air around me, but it did not trigger the same reflex, now. I was back on top of the temptation.

Feeling sufficiently comprised, I went to his side. "Let's get out of here before I do something really stupid."

I turned my back on him, appraising him with an impatient expression. I was no longer in the mood for his reservation. Thankfully, he climbed on without so much as a grumble.

"Keep your eyes shut," I reminded him, and then I lurched forward into the deeper woods.

The path was relatively clear and smooth—I didn't need to wind and swerve nearly as much as I had on my way back to the truck yesterday, and I hoped this would bode well for him. We reached the clearing in no time at all.

I came to a stand-still a few yards from the edge of the trees, but Beau didn't move. I reached back to lay a hand on his cheek.

"It's over, Beau."

He let go first with his arms, second with his legs, and the uneven dismount caused him to lose his balance. I turned just in time to see his aghast expression, eyes so wide I could see the whites around the irises, arms flailing wildly, futilely, as he staggered back. The velocity of his disembarkment was too much for his feet to keep up with, however, and he tipped back, landing hard in the mud on his behind.

My irritation abruptly evaporated, and I burst into laughter, unable to stop myself. The subsequent very human action came without thought—I wrapped my arms around my waist, though my wild merriment brought no resulting pain to my abdominal muscles.

Beau rose stiffly, and wacked at the dirt and bracken stuck to the seat of his pants, which made me laugh even harder.

"You know," he noted, "it would probably be more humane for you to just dump me now. It's not going to get any easier for me over time."

I tried to smother my glee without much success.

Beau exhaled heavily, unimpressed, turned on his heel and strode away.

I took a couple more deep breaths, finally reigning in the humor, and I dashed after him, gripping the back of his jacket and tugging him to a stop. When he glanced over his shoulder at me, he was smiling, so I figured I wasn't in too much trouble.

"Where are you going, Beau?"

"Wasn't there a baseball game happening?" Abruptly, he looked confused.

I smirked affectionately. "It's the other way."

He spun. "Okay."

I interlaced my fingers with his, palm-to-palm, and guided him toward the opening to the clearing.

"I'm sorry I laughed," I said after a couple of seconds. Regardless of if he really was angry or not, I felt an apology was warranted.

"I would have laughed at me, too," he assured me.

"No, I was just a little… agitated," I insisted, "I needed the catharsis."

It was quiet for the length of a few of his heartbeats as we meandered forward.

"At least tell me it worked," I prodded. He didn't look sick. "The mind-over-matter experiment." I hoped the enormous gamble hadn't been without reward.

"Well… I didn't get sick," he stated. There was an unfinished note to his voice. He wasn't telling me something.

"Good, but…?" I urged.

His answer came slowly. "I wasn't thinking about… in the car. I was thinking about after."

Shame flooded through me. I'd frightened him—of course I had. How could I not with a lapse in control like that? Castigation wove its way, snake-like, through my mind.

"I know I already apologized, but… sorry. Again," he said. The guilt flared stronger, twisting my insides. "I will learn how to do better. I know—"

I couldn't bear to hear any more of his entirely needless apologies. "Beau, stop," I interceded, "Please, you make me feel even more guilty when you apologize."

I hadn't realized I'd stopped walking until he did.

"Why should you feel guilty?"

I laughed without humor. "Oh, indeed! Why should I feel guilty?" What reason in the world did I have to feel ashamed? For stealing away his chance at a regular, human life. For ensnaring myself so viciously into his heart and mind—unable to garner the strength to stay away—for forcing myself upon him. He had no choice. I had fooled myself, before, by making it seem I'd left it all up to him, when all the while I'd done everything I could to steal his yeses and commitments and conversations and time. Why indeed should I feel guilty?

The warmth of his hand on my cheek pulled me from the inky well of my sarcastic self-flagellation, and I looked up into his piercing eyes, which searched my face anxiously.

"Edythe, I don't understand what you're saying," he murmured.

I clamped my eyes shut, agony ripping through me at the naïve confusion on his face. "I just can't seem to stop putting you in danger," I despaired, "I think I'm in control of myself, and then it gets so close—I don't know how to not be this anymore." I gestured toward myself, never having hated my nature more. "My very existence puts you at risk. Sometimes I truly hate myself. I should be stronger, I should be able to—"

Then his warm, soft and aromatic hand was over my lips, silencing my protestations.

"Stop," he said, his voice a beseeching whisper.

When I opened my eyes now, there was pain in those bright blue eyes—pain for my sake. My cold, dead heart curled in on itself. I didn't deserve this boy, I truly didn't. Very carefully, I moved his hand from my lips, to my cheek, indulging selfishly in the pleasant warmth his skin provided before continuing.

"I love you. It's a poor excuse for what I'm doing, but it's still true."

Beau's breathing stopped for a second, and then came a little faster. "I love you," he said, "I don't want you to be something other than what you are."

I sighed softly. At least that made one of us. "Now, be a good boy."

I stretched up on my toes and kissed him very lightly on the mouth.

We stood for a moment, just staring at each other.

Finally, I exhaled. My family would be waiting. "Baseball?"

"Baseball," he agreed.

I put my hand back in his, pulling him through some tall ferns, underneath some hanging moss, and around a huge hemlock tree. We had arrived.

The clearing was twice the length of Dodger Stadium, situated in a large, barren stretch of land, where the trees had been clear-cut long before the regulation to re-plant had come into affect.

The size of the clearing allowed us to hit the ball and run freely, with full use of our heightened speed and strength.

Eleanor, Earnest and Royal were gathered on a projection of rough mountain stone across the way, and they rose when they saw us step into the field. Archie and Jessamine were on the other end of the field, tossing the ball back and forth, warming up, while they waited for the game to begin. Carine was marking the bases.

Eager expectation flared in Earnest's thoughts as he started to make his way toward us, but Royal's thoughts were petulant and demeaning. True to his word, however, he didn't so much as growl. He did, however, turn and head over to where Archie and Jessamine were standing. Eleanor hesitated, casting a long look at the retreating figure of her husband.

Sorry, Edy, she apologized, I tried talking to him. You know how obstinate he can be.

I nodded quickly, showing her that I wasn't altogether bothered by his rejection. I was just glad he wasn't being outright uncouth. That was all I'd asked for, in any case.

"Was that you we heard before, Edythe?" Earnest called when he was close enough for Beau to hear.

"Sounded like a hyena choking to death," El added good-naturedly.

I grinned. Beau cast his own provisional smile at my sister. "That was her," he confirmed.

"Beau was being funny," I clarified, grinning up at him.

His mouth twisted, just incrementally, and I batted my lashes. He blinked, face slackening.

Carine finished up with marking the bases then, and Archie left Jessamine with her at home plate, to hurtle toward us. He came to an abrupt stop in front of us.

Watch this. He threw me a wink too rapid for Beau to catch.

"It's time," he said. And then, overhead, thunder boomed.

I leered at him sarcastically. "Quit showing off," I muttered under my breath. This, too, Beau would have missed.

Eleanor noticed Beau's off-guard surprise.

"Eerie, isn't it?" She threw in a genial wink, hoping to get on his good side. Uncharacteristically, she felt very guilty about Royal's pomposity. She wasn't usually one to pay others' emotions much mind, but Eleanor was convinced that Beau would be joining the family as one of our kind one day. She wanted Beau to always feel comfortable with her, in the big sister role.

Archie was nearly vibrating with ecstatic impatience, and he reached out for El's hand. "Let's go!" They bounded away, and I watched Beau watch them.

Archie headed toward his place on the pitcher's mound, and El had her eye on the home plate, wanting to be first up to bat.

Let's play! Archie whined.

You comin' or what, Edy?! Eleanor beckoned.

Jessamine's thoughts were confident, gamely competitive. She was sure that our side was going to win.

Her thrumming anticipation was infectious, and suddenly, I was excited to get out there.

"Are you ready for some ball?" I turned to Beau, bouncing on my toes, unable to tone down the tenor of my enthusiasm.

"Go team!"

I laughed at his animated encouragement and reached up to tousle his hair quickly. Then I started away, pushing my legs until the wind whipped my hair away from my face, and pushed my clothes against my body. Quickly, I overtook both Archie and El.

Hey! It's not a race, you exhibitionist! Eleanor protested. Don't show off just 'cause your boyfriend is here!

I lifted a hand, gesturing rudely over my shoulder, and she returned the sign with a silent, cheerful slur.

I giggled, the sound high and strident, then took my place in the outfield. This was the position I usually took, as I was so much faster than the others, and could stop an otherwise home-run in its tracks. Carine crouched readily in between first and second, prepared to cover the bases and the infield.

Earnest and Beau were making their way toward us now, engaged in, what I thought to be, casual conversation until I actually tuned into what Earnest was saying.

He was chuckling softly. "Well, I do think of them as my children in most ways," he was confiding, "I never could get over—" He paused, gathering himself. It still broke his heart now, though it had been almost a century. "Did Edythe tell you I lost my daughter?"

"Er, no," Beau said, stunned.

Though I knew each of my family's origin stories in great detail—most gleaned from conversation, some from their thoughts—I didn't think it my place to share those details without their knowledgeable permission.

"Edythe was the first of my new children," Earnest was saying now, drawing my attention with the utterance of my name. "My second daughter. I've always thought of her that way—though she's older than I, in one way at least—and wondered if my Grace would have grown into such an amazing person. I'm so happy she's found you, Beau. She's been the odd woman out for far too long. It's hurt me to see her alone."

"You don't mind, then?" Beau questioned, "That I'm… all wrong for her?"

"No," Earnest said, and his mind was turning through the possibilities once more. He often mused at great length about where our relationship would end up. He hadn't been able to reach any concrete conclusions but one: "You're what she wants. It will all work out, somehow." He didn't quite see how, but he believed in the great power of love.

Thunder grumbled and roared once more, as they reached the edge of the playing field.

Eleanor took a few practice swings with the aluminum bat—much more sturdy than wood, which seemed to shatter more often than it was able to stand up to the crash of the ball.

Jessamine was behind her, filling in as catcher. I watched the exchange between her and Archie, the silent way they seemed to communicate—and I no longer watched it with the same sort of longing I used to.

"All right. Batter up," Earnest called.

Archie's pitching strategy was stealthy. He could throw just as hard as any of us could, and so the speed of the throw wasn't so much an advantage. Secrecy had always worked out better for him, and Jess knew this. They teamed up on El, watching for the holes in her readiness, and when Jess cued him, Archie flicked his wrist almost imperceptibly, and released the ball.

It hurtled through the air, straight and sure. Eleanor swung, but she was a sixteenth of a second too late, and the ball smacked into Jess's waiting hands.

Yes!

Dammit!

"Was that a strike?" I heard Beau whisper.

"If they don't hit it, it's a strike," Earnest said. Eleanor heard this, too, and she reprimanded herself.

Gotta get my head in the game! Focus!

Eleanor was easily the most competitive out of all of us—and definitely the sorest loser. If she lost a game, she was sure to demand a rematch without much refraction.

Fired up now, Eleanor caught the second pitch hard, rending a dent in the side of the bat. The ball soared overhead, but I heard it more than I saw it, because I'd turned my back and was racing through the trees, leaping over fallen logs, skidding under low-hanging branches, vying to stay ahead of the ball.

"Home run," I heard Beau mutter to Earnest in the distance.

Not if I could help it.

I heard the instant the ball faltered in speed, and I took my leap, soaring straight up into the air, high enough to just peek over the tallest firs, and the ball smacked into my palm with an ear-splitting crack.

"Out!" Earnest called when he heard the contact.

I sprang back into the field, ball hoisted high in victory over my head, a wide grin stretched across my face. I had always loved our Sunday baseball games, but I found even more pleasure with Beau watching.

"Eleanor hits the hardest, but Edythe runs the fastest."

Speaking of Eleanor… She was running through all the insulting litanies she knew inside of her head, all of them directed at me.

As far as baseball games went, this particular evening, nothing of notice occurred. It was a pretty dull game, actually. Hardly any outstanding plays, and not one accident—aside from the time both El and I leaped for the ball and collided in mid-air. She liked that, and was sure to ruffle my hair upon landing. I threw her another bald-faced hand gesture.

I couldn't help it—my inhibitions tended to subordinate when I got riled up.

It was anyone's game by the time we reached the fifth inning. Most of the game had passed in its usual fashion—full of amicable razzing and teasing. Just another night out with the Cullens.

Except that, in an instant, the mellow, enjoyable evening rolled over on its back and died.

Archie drew a sharp breath when the vision hit him, and automatically, my eyes snapped up to his. Our gazes locked as the warning passed through both of our minds, and we watched it together, horrified.

Three nomads, the ones Archie had seen yesterday morning, were just miles away. They had heard our raucous playing, and, curious, had discoursed from their original trail, and were heading toward the field now. Two females, one male. They exchanged a few short words about us, but nothing of great disrepute.

Each pair of deep crimson eyes—freshly sated with human blood—was acutely focused. It would be instinctive reflex for them to hunt Beau. They would not think twice, especially when it came to his desirable scent.

As soon as the vision faded, I lurched to Beau's side, frantic with terror.

"What the hell," I hissed under my breath at Archie, the metallic edge of hysteria in my tone, "Why did their course change? I thought they were headed north! What happened?"

"Archie?" Earnest asked. His voice was tight with anxiety, and his thoughts were racing.

"I didn't see," Archie said to me, his tone deeply apologetic. He was putting the blame on himself—as he should; he should have been watching closer. I was furious. "I couldn't tell."

Eleanor, as usual, was driven mad by the half-finished sentences and our strange, stilted conversation.

What the hell is going on?!

Everyone was gathered around now, concerned eyes on Archie's face, flickering from him to me and Beau every so often.

"What is it, Archie?" Carine commanded. She was very calm, but I could hear the concern in her thoughts.

Is my family at risk? she wondered, and Beau was included in the whole. She had not made a distinction in the split-second wondering.

"They were traveling much quicker than I thought," Archie explained, "I can see I had the perspective wrong before." I'm sorry, Edythe. I'm so sorry.

I jerked my head back and forth, realizing my teeth were locked together like vises. It didn't matter now. I knew he would do what was right—he would do what it took to protect Beau. We all would.

Anguish rocked through me, stabbing through me with ferocious vehemence. What had I done? Oh, god, what had I done?

Jessamine gripped Archie's hand. "What changed?" she asked. She knew which questions to ask; she knew how to get as much out of Archie's visions as she could, maybe more than the rest of us.

"They heard us playing," Archie said, "and it changed their path." So sorry, so sorry, so sorry. He was mentally reprimanding himself for not having kept a closer eye, for not noticing sooner, for putting Beau at risk. But my anger at him was quickly fading. Instead, the target of my fury was turning inward.

My parents' and siblings' eyes flashed to Beau's face, and then away. Immediately, all of them were contemplative.

Most of them were wondering how best to keep Beau safe. One family member's thoughts were slightly too enthusiastic about the coming opposition. Another's was so infuriated, the racing thoughts bordered on maniacal madness.

"How soon?" Carine inquired.

Archie concentrated, and I watched with him, through the flashing foliage, to the traveling nomads. Together, we watched the topography around them, searching for hallmark clues.

"Less than five minutes," Archie said decidedly, "They're running—they want to play."

Edythe, you must get Beau to safety. Leave the Jeep if it will be faster. "Can you make it?" she asked out loud, gaze flitting to Beau's face.

"No, not carrying—" I cut myself short, the anguished fury clenching my jaw together with such vigor it was like it had been glued shut with cement. "Besides, the last thing we need is for them to catch the scent and start hunting."

I didn't know which kind of extra capabilities the group possessed, and I ran through different options in my mind. Fleeing was out of the question. A fight, though Eleanor hoped for it, was pretty far down on the list, as well. Carine wouldn't want to resort to that unless it was absolutely unavoidable. Most likely, our options would either be to reason with the nomads—there was no way of telling how well that would go—or deceiving the trio, which would be difficult to do.

Confirming my suspicions, Carine was running through the same thoughts in her head.

If running won't work, neither will hiding. We will have to attempt at a level-headed discussion. Hopefully we can reason with them before they catch his scent… If it comes to a showdown, I suppose it is what must happen—but I don't want to do that unless all other options have been eradicated.

Eleanor turned her eyes on Archie. "How many?" She was prepared to take a stance for the boy she already considered her youngest brother. Besides, she was always looking for an excuse to fight.

I gritted my teeth together. I appreciated the sentiment, but Eleanor tended to think with everything but her head. A fight would put Beau at a certain amount of risk.

"Three," Archie said now.

Eleanor's thoughts were abruptly giddy. "Three!" she ridiculed, "Let them come." They call that a threat? I could probably take them all down by myself—with a hand tied behind my back!

Carine deliberated a moment more, deciding deception was her best alternative at this point in time.

"Let's just continue the game," she finally suggested. "Archie said they were simply curious." She was, of course, hoping for the best possible outcome, but Carine was not naïve enough to believe the coming confrontation did not pose serious peril for the boy by my side.

"Edythe, are they thirsty?" Earnest wanted to know. His eyes were fixed intently on my face, and if I had not been so wrought with tension, I would have felt a certain measure of tenderness toward him for the way he thought of Beau now, as part of the family, one of his sons. His mind was very-nearly wild with paternal instinct and concern. Earnest was not a fighter, but in this very moment, he was prepared to make a stand for the object of my affection.

I remembered the brightness of cerise in the nomads' eyes, and I shook my head at him. No, they were not thirsty. Yes, they had been freshly fed. But that would not stop the lure of Beau's fragrance—especially if they were undisciplined and unrestrained , as nomads tended to be.

"You catch, Earnest," I said to him now, unwilling to leave Beau's side, "I'll call it now."

My family members returned to the field.

"The others are coming now." Beau's voice quaked in my ear.

"Yes," I said, "Stay very still, keep quiet, and don't move from my side, please." I kept my voice as smooth and pacifying as I could, not wanting to frighten him more than he was due.

I hoped that his stillness would be enough. I was grateful that the nomads would be upwind from us, and if Beau stood unmoving, there was a possibility they would miss his scent completely.

"That won't help. I could smell him across the field," Archie muttered, dismayed. He was not typically one to hold his misdemeanors against himself, but he cared deeply for Beau—as a friend, and an eventual brother, which I winced at.

"I know," I barked at him.

"What did Earnest ask you?" Beau breathed now.

Damn his perceptiveness. I hesitated for just a moment, but I could not keep this from him. "Whether they were thirsty," I enlightened him darkly.

Beau's face lost just some of its color, and I wanted to reach out to him, to take his hand and squeeze it in reassurance, but my muscles were rigid with tension.

It's going to be alright, I tried to sooth myself. The threat is not as dangerous as it seems. Seven on three was nothing. It would be easy, depending on what talents they possessed, but mine and Archie's gifts would be of much use. If all other alternatives were exhausted, we would fight. With Archie's precognition and my mind-reading, it was possible we could take them out quickly. And I hadn't even included Jessamine in that factor, who was the most skilled and practiced fighter among us, having been a soldier in her former life. Notwithstanding her influential powers of emotional control. She would attempt this gift first, and I knew it would weigh things in our favor.

See? I placated myself, It's going to be fine.

But the deeper part of my psyche didn't believe it. I barely perceived the game happening in front of me, although I was supposed to be refereeing. My attentions were focused on the three vampires making their way toward us.

Lauren—the olive-skinned nomad. Her thoughts, flowed eloquently in francais, and they were flexible, open-minded, curious and opportunistic. I would barter most of my hope on her, if there was any hope in convincing them.

The other two, I was not sure about. The red-haired male governed mostly with his instincts. His humanity was buried deep beneath the dispositions of his vampiric nature. He was more animal than human compared to the other two. His thoughts were jumpy and frenetic—it was hard to focus on their manic behavior for long.

The other female, smaller than the first, plain looking with dull brown hair chopped to her shoulders, was more calculating, and I could hear the snide derision in her thoughts. Of the three, she seemed the most malicious, and this was the one I worried about most. The patterns of her thoughts seemed very familiar in an odd way, but I couldn't place the comparison.

"I'm sorry, Beau," I said now, "It was stupid, irresponsible, to expose you like this. I'm so sorry."

Our visitors' thoughts grew expectant, senses pricking, and my head whipped toward right field, where I and each member of my family, could now hear the stealth gait of their passage, barely making a whisper against the bracken on the forest floor.

The red-haired male moved nearly soundlessly, and as they came nearer, I could tell I'd been right about him—he was more savage than any vampire I'd ever known, and I wondered if I'd misplaced the priority of my concern.

But then I heard her thoughts more clearly, and knew that I had been correct to place my attentions there.

I shifted incrementally, so that I was firmly between Beau and the imminent opposition.

…

A/N: Dun dun dun! Leave a review and let me know what you thought of this chapter :) I had fun writing this one. xo