Emmett leaned his head against the wall and sighed, shutting his eyes. The music sounded louder than it really was in his ears and he could feel the blood cooling on his lips and chin. He looked down at the man lying on the floor. He was still breathing, Emmett was taking his time with this one. His venom was slowly beginning to infect his wound but he wasn't going to let this bastard Turn. He'd just suffer. An irritating buzz filled the air. Again. His family had been calling for hours now. This happened on occasion, they'd call when he didn't check in after too long a time. They'd leave him be if they weren't sure he'd off himself. Emmett snorted. He nudged the man on the floor next to him.

"How you feeling, Frankie?" the man gurgled and tried to roll away.

"What did you do to me?" he croaked, raising a hand to his throat as his face twisted in pain.

"Nothing you don't deserve."

"Agh!" the man groaned at the sensation of the venom beginning to burn him from the inside. Emmett looked at him as he spoke. "What are you going to do to me?"

"Bury you in the cemetery down the street from your house. It's pretty good considering all the twisted shit you've done. I saw your basement, not as welcoming as the rest of the house I have to tell you. Can't say it'll be a very fun time where you're going though." He looked to the man attempting to roll away towards his phone, or maybe his front door. "There's a special corner of Hell for people like you." For monsters like us. Emmett snatched his ankle and dragged him back and pulled him up to look into his frightened face. He contemplated finishing his meal but he didn't want him anymore. It wasn't that Emmett wasn't thirsty, the thirst was always there, a burn in the back of his throat that dissipated only when he fed, the blood sliding down his throat and filling his belly. But Emmett was now bored and uninterested, and he snapped his latest prey's neck quickly. The incessant buzzing picked up again and Emmett growled in annoyance.

He stood and went to the small stand next to an armchair. He was going to turn it off until he saw the name on the screen: Nolan. Emmett had not received a call from the other man since leaving. They had an unspoken agreement. Nolan understood his need to get away and never once tried to convince him otherwise or give him any sort of advice that would only serve to aggravate him further and Emmett had been eternally grateful that there was at least one person who would leave him be. If he was calling then it had to be for a reason, right? He glided his finger over the screen as sixty possible problems arranged themselves in his head and Emmett answered his phone for the first time in over six months.

"Hello?"

"Emmett." Nolan sounded strange, his voice was shaking a bit and slightly breathless. "Emmett, she's alive."

He frowned as he turned off the music. "What?"

"Anala," he said, as if "she" should have been enough description for the vampire to understand who he spoke of. "She's alive."

First he was confused, then angry. What the hell was he trying to pull here? Why call him out of the blue and say something like that? Rationality caught up to him. No, this was Nolan, he wouldn't be cruel enough to joke about his own sister like this, which only meant one thing. Nolan had finally lost it. He snapped. Emmett picked his next words carefully. He should probably call Jasper back after this. "What makes you say that?"

"Listen Emmett! I know how this sounds. I don't know how, but she's here. I found her. Anala is alive."

Nolan sounded explicitly sure. The waver in his voice had gone and Emmett was having a hard time understanding exactly what it was Nolan was saying to him. He remembered. The rubble, her blood, cooling under piles of stone, staining the floor and rock and his hands. It had been everywhere, in other rooms, staining walls and floors, much older stains. Emmett had even found a cage, rust-colored stains all over it and the horror she and Nolan had never shared with them was beginning to piece together, if only just what he could see of it. He remembered returning home numb and fragmented. The evidence was right there, he couldn't deny it to himself like Nolan did. To think she was . . . but Emmett trusted Nolan's assurance, he always had. He had learned early on that Nolan was aware in a way that he couldn't fully understand, a lot like his sister in that sense. If Nolan said she was alive then it could be possible but—Stop. He couldn't find it in himself to search for doubt. It would bother him endlessly. Emmett uttered her name, something he hadn't done since that day, as it all clicked into place and formed something his mind could comprehend. Anala was alive.

"Anala . . ."

Emmett hung up the phone. She was alive. He was moving before he even thought of it, pocketing his phone, pulling his jacket back on. He caught his reflection in the hall mirror. Blood was on his lips and chin and bright red pools stared back at him. Emmett looked to the floor where Frankie's corpse lay. Right. It didn't take very long to clean up and dispose of him. A couple of blocks down, he buried the body beneath a fresh grave and doubled back to the Mercedes.

He just needed to see, he told himself. To confirm Nolan's words for himself.

He hadn't thought this through. Emmett had driven though the very early morning and daytime hours and now he was driving in the middle of the night, some quickly waning twenty-five miles away from Forks, Washington, agonizing and nervous. The shock had faded some five hours ago, the numbing effect had given way to real emotion as his mind raced. He hadn't seen Anala in just under two years. Twenty-one months, two weeks, three days. He had gone through each day, watched as the outside world continued to turn as his own came to a grinding halt and ended, leaving a hollow shell in the aftermath. The Emmett before that had died with her. How could he return to her after what he'd done? He changed, Emmett knew, he wasn't as oblivious as people thought him to be. He had left Washington, creating a body count that was almost impressive and became less of a monster playing Human and more of a monster hunting humans, especially the ones who paraded as Monsters. He could deal with his family's reaction. He had slipped before, they knew what it was like to fight that inner fiend. Only this time, Emmett wasn't upset. He didn't regret it or feel remorse despite everything Carlisle and Esme had always tried to help them understand. He hadn't fought his beast. Anala however, had seen enough monsters to last a dozen lifetimes over and his was one he never thought she'd see. What could he tell her? Hell, how could he face her? He could barely believe she was alive let alone think of how to speak to her, to look into emerald depths and expose the evidence of his sins.

Emmett heard her heartbeat long before he reached the concealed driveway. He'd know it anywhere. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. That was all the proof he needed. Anala was well and truly alive. When the house came into view, Emmett wasn't sure if he were glad to see it or not. Sure, there was nostalgia and the reminder of family but there were little things that all but screamed at him. The garden around the other side of the house, it had been beautiful last he saw of it, meant to be planted in his mate's memory, but Emmett despised it. It was a body short of a grave. He wouldn't find solace in a bunch of plants, what good would it do him? He had lost her. There were the front steps, which had seemed endless upon his return that early morning, the windows he would stand before and listen to her approach and smile as she came into view. . . The forest where he had seen her last, tears in her eyes; his last memories of her. He pulled the Mercedes to a stop and sat there for a long moment just listening to the rhythmic thumping coming from upstairs, towards the back left corner of the uppermost level. His bedroom. It was so clear. The steady beating of her heart, the soft breaths. Emmett exited the car and Carlisle appeared on the lawn. His pale blonde hair was mussed slightly, tall form standing patiently. Golden eyes met his and Emmett mentally braced himself, feeling a bit like a child about to be scolded, or shunned. Carlisle approached him and smiled, eyes full of understanding and compassion.

"It's good to see you son." Emmett was pulled into his embrace and a smile tugged at his lips. He had missed his father. He wrapped his arms around him.

"You too Dad."

Once they reached the porch, Esme was fussing over him, smiling as she hugged and kissed him and fretted, checking him over as if he was susceptible to actual injury. He assured her he was fine, trying to put the mother in her at ease. Alice had barreled into him, hugging him tightly and his brothers greeted him warmly but all he could focus on was that heartbeat up above him. Emmett climbed the steps and saw Rosalie at the top of the landing. Her pink lips were set in a straight line as she looked at him and he smiled a bit.

"Hey Rosie."

Rosalie didn't say anything, just held out her hands to him. He climbed the last few steps and sighed as she hugged him tightly, wrapping his arms around her. She pulled back after a long pause and cupped his cheek, kissing his brow before soundly smacking him across the face. He looked at her, unsurprised but expecting an explanation. That brings up memories.

"Would it have killed you to pick up your damn phone?"

He couldn't stop his retort. "Maybe." It was almost like being married to her again.

Her glare softened and she smiled. "I missed you."

He kissed her softly, brushing the golden strands of her hair with his fingers. "I missed you too."

"She's beautiful." Rosalie suddenly said as he pulled back. "She's always been but it . . ."

She trailed off but he understood. Thinking and seeing were two different things. He knew what it was like, experienced it on a daily basis at one point. Emmett knew personally. He could smell her and his inner monster took notice. Emmett turned and saw Nolan, descending the stairs to the second floor and Emmett was a bit stunned. Nolan had changed. For one he was taller. His lean body had filled out, his build more defined and his movements hinted at the power there. His hair had grown, dark hairs brushing the nape of his neck and falling around his head in an unruly mop. His lips weren't as full nor as red as his sister's and his flesh just a bit darker but he looked so much like her it hurt. That strange beauty emanated from him like it did her, one of the first things he had noticed about the siblings. Nolan pushed his hair out of his face and frost blue eyes pierced Emmett's own. The pale, wintry pools stared into Emmett, glowing against the soft honey-brown of his skin. They were different, wiser. Despite his ruffled appearance, the power behind his gaze was undoubtedly assertive. Nolan smiled, the little gold flecks in his eyes flashing in the light. Her scent mingled on his person, blending with his own. Nolan didn't say anything, just laid a hand on his arm and squeezed before continuing around him and down the stairs.

He really should have known better than to think he'd gone crazy.

Emmett moved up the stairs and saw Javan, sitting on the top step. Red eyes, a darker red than Emmett's own, watched him. Emmett hadn't seen Javan since the Newborn fight with Victoria. His brown hair and stubble contrasted attractively with his pale skin and his presence was as strange as it had been the day Emmett first met the man. It was odd seeing him again. Emmett didn't know much about him but he had always had a fascination with the other Vampire, not only was he a giant wolf but he was undeniably interesting. Javan watched him as he climbed the last steps. Her heartbeat was so much louder up here.

"You believe in miracles, Emmett?"

Emmett paused, confused by the abrupt question. Considering the situation at hand, "Yes."

Javan looked straight ahead. "I've never been sold on the whole thing," his voice lowered, talking more to himself than to Emmett. "But this wouldn't be the first time these two proved me wrong. Seems these past hundred and sixty-odd years . . . a lot of surprises."

The light in his room was on. Dimmed, but on. He could see it filter through the space in the cracked door and into the hall. It was strange. Emmett had driven across the country and walked into this house to see someone he believed he'd never lay eyes on again. He had gone up the stairs, down the hallway, but Emmett couldn't get himself to walk through his own bedroom door. It was almost laughable. He could smell her. That same damned scent he could never quite figure out, the same scent that made venom pool in his mouth and his inner demon purr as he had the urge to entomb himself in that mysterious fragrance.

Christ, how hard is it to walk through a door?

Gathering his nerve, Emmett pushed open the door and slipped inside, letting it shut quietly behind him. He relaxed abruptly. He couldn't help it, the room smelled like Anala, her heartbeat filled the space and his eyes drank her in. Anala lay in his bed, covers pulled up around her ribcage. Her face was angled towards the door, towards him and he mused at how small she looked in his big bed. Emmett stepped closer. Her chest rose and fell slowly as she breathed. The black locks of her hair framed her face and the pillow beneath her head. Long, sooty lashes rested on soft cheekbones and full, dark red lips brought images of smiles and kisses against them, reminding him of how soft and warm they were against his own and her light caramel flesh was flushed a bit, glowing with a soft golden hue. Life. Emmett was standing above her now, around the other side of the bed. He traced the line of her jaw with a feather-light touch. Her skin was amazingly warm. Anala was still. She didn't wake or move, not the slightest shift or reaction and that distressed him greatly yet he was overwhelmed by this moment. Anala was right here, he was touching her. His touch pressed more firmly, he traced her lips, slid his hand along the other side of her jaw and into the silky mane of her hair, angling her face towards his. Emmett leaned over her, pressing his cheek to hers and inhaled as his heart swelled and his eyes burned.

Jasmine, honeysuckle and sandalwood with traces of lavender, blended with that indecipherable undertone of . . . something. That dark, subtle factor that had captivated him instantly. It was just as it had always been and he could almost pretend no time had passed. That he had gone out and Anala had fallen asleep and he had come back, checked on her like it was any other night.

Almost.

Emmett tore himself away from her, the bed. He pushed his fingers through his hair gripping it in his fingers as he turned away from her, conflicted and confused. Now that he was here, that he had looked at her, the obvious questions surfaced. What had happened?

How was she here?