Christopher kept hold of my hand, leading me up the porch steps to the front door. I followed him inside, dreading the curious stares I imagined we would see as soon as we crossed the threshold of the main living room. To my surprise, however, there was no one in the front room. I knew he heard me let out the breath I had been holding when he laughed quietly. He turned and pulled my hand up to his face, pressing a kiss against my knuckles. His eyes stayed locked on mine as if I might run away if he turned his head. I tried to keep my expression neutral and calm, but I knew I wasn't fooling him. Especially not with my heartbeat racing faster the longer he kept my hand against his lips.
Instinctively, I stepped closer, lifting my free hand. I hoped he didn't notice how I shook as I rested my palm against his chest. I stared straight ahead at my hand, watching it rise and fall with the fabric of his shirt with every breath he took. Without looking at his face I could feel his eyes on me. It suddenly felt overwhelming — how quickly a chance meeting was becoming more than a coincidence. But on the other hand, a part of my mind couldn't help but imagine what might have happened at that moment had we been truly alone.
As if on cue, footsteps walking on hardwood floors above our heads provided a pointed reminder that we were not, in fact, alone. I looked up at Christopher, smiling sheepishly. He chuckled, lowering our hands — but not letting go. Together we turned as Carlisle appeared.
"You're back," Carlisle said as he strode casually into the living room and sat down in a chair. Christopher and I sat down on the sofa. I realized I was seated in the same place I had been upon my first arrival. The bright, lightly colored room felt much more serene without a dozen or so eyes staring at me at once. Carlisle focused on me for a moment, before his gaze flicked to Christopher, and then returned to me. He kept his expression perfectly neutral; I wondered what he was thinking. My eyes flashed toward the kitchen; I could see the space at the counter where I had been seated before I fled the house.
"We were worried about you."
"I'm sorry about that," I said, looking back at him. "Really. I just…freaked out a little."
Carlisle smiled gently; I could see what Aro had meant when he told the guard that Carlisle was regarded more as a father figure than a coven leader. There was no reason for him to be bothered with my well-being at all. But, suddenly, the passiveness on his face disappeared. Instead, I could see genuine kindness and empathy behind his golden eyes. He cleared his throat, breaking the brief silence in the room, shifting his attention to Christopher.
"Christopher," he said, "Garrett left a little while ago with the rest of the Denalis. I think he had been hoping to catch you before their departure."
"Damn it." Christopher ran his free hand through his hair. "I had hoped to speak with him before he left as well."
I swallowed the lump in my throat that rose up at the mention of the Denali vampires. My memory flashed back to the field, where the two blonde women shrieked and cried as their sister burned. As if giving me privacy in my thoughts, Carlisle avoided my eyes as he continued to speak.
"Alice thinks if you leave now and head north, you should catch up pretty quickly. He and Kate left on foot about an hour ago. The rest are traveling by car."
"Got it."
My head snapped around to look at Christopher.
"You're leaving?"
He brushed the back of his fingers against my cheek. I tried to ignore the fact that Carlisle was in the room with us.
"Just for a little while." Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "A few hours, tops. Now that I've finally found you, you couldn't keep me away for long."
I watched him stand and walk toward the front door; my fingers digging into my thighs as I tried to ignore the wave of emotion that swirled inside me. When the door shut and he disappeared from view, I turned to Carlisle with a smile that I hoped was somewhat convincing. I could tell from the wry grin he answered with my attempt was unsuccessful.
"Where is everyone else?" I asked pleasantly, determined to ignore the unfamiliar ache that appeared as soon as the front door shut behind Christopher.
"Esme and Alice went out for…well, actually," Carlisle paused, his brows pulling together, "I'm not sure what they are looking for." He shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "Edward and Bella took Renesmee hunting; Emmett and Jasper went with them I believe. Rosalie is in the garage."
"Quite the headcount you've got to keep track of," I quipped.
Carlisle laughed, his eyes sparkling a bit as he nodded. "I do feel a bit like a school headmaster at times. Sometimes, perhaps more like a circus ringleader."
I realized I could understand why so many had been drawn to him, and even more responded when he called upon them for assistance. He exuded calm; I could feel some of the tension in my muscles relaxing. My fingers uncurled and I rested my hands loosely on my lap.
"Ellie." Carlisle's voice interrupted my internal musing. He leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his knees and folding his hands together. "I was wondering if —with everyone else otherwise occupied — you might like a ride into town. You mentioned…before…" he paused, eyeing me for any sign of distress. Finding none, he gave a quick nod and continued. "You mentioned your cell phone needed replacing. I have an errand to run myself this afternoon, so I'd be happy to take you."
"That would be fantastic, Carlisle. Thank you." This new plan made me remember something. I patted the front pocket of the black pants I was wearing. I was still dressed in the solid black the upper guard donned for official missions. As my fingers closed around a small card wallet that somehow was never confiscated, I breathed a sigh of relief. Pulling it out, I checked the contents. Massachusetts driver's license, two credit cards, and an ID card from the state medical board with my medical license information. I caught Carlisle's surprised expression and held up the small wallet. "It was in my pocket when Demetri picked me up. They took my bag and my phone, but either my father didn't realize I still had this or didn't think it mattered enough to take it."
A short while later — after I excused myself to a guest room Carlisle directed me to so I could wash my face and brush my hair — we were speeding along the wooded backroads toward Forks. The short scenic drive was pleasant enough, with Carlisle carrying the burden of keeping up small talk. He pointed out sites of interest and shared quick anecdotes about the places we passed. Some of his memories, he noted, were from many years earlier — the first time the Cullen family moved to Washington state some 70 years earlier.
As we reached the main drag of the little town, I was surprised at how many people were milling about the little shops. At the same time, I looked forward to blending in and being anonymous for a moment or two. We sat through one traffic light before Carlisle expertly slid his black Mercedes sedan between two other cars parked along the curb. He shut the engine off and turned to me.
"They should be able to sort you out," he said, nodding toward a store with windows plastered with advertisements for all the latest cellphone models. "And I will be over there," he pointed out a small hardware store on the opposite corner and held up a slip of paper. "Esme gave me a list."
Moments later I was standing at the counter of the cellphone store, waiting while an employee verified my account details. I picked out the same model phone I'd had before and requested a new number. The whole process took fifteen minutes. When I exited the store, I stopped beside a light pole and fished a small piece of paper from the pocket of the jacket Carlisle had handed me on the way out of the house. Esme's, I assumed. He'd scribbled his number down just in case and handed it to me when I exited the car. Flipping open my new phone, I texted him so he had my number as well, and told him I would be walking around the stores until he was ready to leave.
With my phone safely tucked back in my jacket pocket, I turned in a slow circle, taking in the street. I noted a bank that I had an account with a few blocks down the road and decided it would be a good idea to have some cash on hand. My steps were purposeful but unhurried; the freedom of walking a strange street in an unfamiliar town was thrilling after the last couple of weeks. I tried to push away any thoughts of Volterra, my father, Caius, or anything to do with the guard. I knew it was only a matter of time before someone would appear, out of the blue, to take me away again. But time was a different matter to ancient immortals. It might be a hundred years — maybe a few hundred. Or, maybe, tomorrow.
Suddenly, the sound of cars in the street and footsteps on the sidewalk screamed in my ears. A door opened to my right, and the squeak of the hinges nearly made me jump out of my skin. In my peripheral vision on the left, a dark shape startled me again. I paused at an intersection, putting one hand on a metal newspaper stand to steady myself. My heart was racing, everywhere I looked normal people wearing long dark winter coats, heads covered, reminded me of cloaked guard members. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths, focusing on putting all the sounds around me back into proper perspective. Through the chaos in my mind, I thought I heard my name.
Turning around, I could see Carlisle scanning the sidewalk in my direction. Pushing off the metal box, I stood straight up and waited for his eyes to meet mine. When he finally seemed to notice me, his brow furrowed, and he walked toward me with a quick but distinctly human-looking pace. Coming to a stop at my side, he eyed me speculatively.
"Everything okay? Ready to go?"
I was relieved at the second question, which I could answer honestly.
"Yep!"
It was a short while back to the car. Carlisle paused when we were nearly there, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing the remote to unlock the door.
"Er, Ellie…" He clicked a button a couple times and reached for the passenger door, pulling it open for me. "I got a call while I was in the hardware store. The hospital asked if I could come in for an hour or two. Someone's running late for their shift this afternoon."
I paused before getting in, waiting for him to speak again.
"I was wondering if you would like to come along? Or, I can drop you back at the house if you prefer."
I smiled — genuinely. "I'd love to."
Carlisle grinned, waiting for me to get in and closing the door. As he climbed into the driver's seat and inserted the key in the ignition, he looked over at me.
"I should warn you; Forks Community Hospital isn't anything like the trauma centers you're used to." I laughed and he chuckled as well.
"Trust me," I said, leaning back against the headrest, watching the town fly by as the purr of the engine got gradually louder. "I've definitely seen worse."