No Reward Without Risk

by Glitterb1234

A series of flashbacks in the same universe as Double or Nothing, covering the early days of Edythe and Beau's relationship.

3. Chapter 3: The Truth

I felt compelled to get this out today given how short this week's chapter of Double or Nothing is, so it's a double upload for those following both stories! (And honestly, if you're not reading DoN, what are you doing here? :P)

This story keeps ballooning bigger, every chapter gets longer than the last. I did consider splitting this one but couldn't find a good place for it, so here it is in its entirety. I'm planning on two more, but I'm not sure when they will be coming out; honestly, I'm holding back on writing them so I have something to work on when I get stuck on the New Moon rewrite (which has been started!) This chapter covers the first month after the dance, the next one will be the second date and the last is going to be the month after that before these two crazy kids become an official couple. I'm bouncing back and forth between perspectives for this one, but they don't follow on exactly from each other, hopefully it's clear enough how much time passes between each section.

Also, tiny extra note, I realised as I was writing that I moved Saul Black's death a few years earlier than it is in canon, I've chosen to keep consistency with what I already wrote in DoN rather than go back and change it. Not a big deal, but just wanted to acknowledge it.

Enjoy!

Glitterb x

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Chapter 3: The Truth

Edythe

I watched Beau in the wing mirror of the Mercedes for as long as I could, until we turned the corner at the end of the street and he was gone from my sight. Then I finally sat back in my seat with a heavy sigh.

Earnest's smile was knowing. "He really is something special to you, isn't he?"

"He is," I admitted. "I know it isn't wise – the others have made that much clear in the last few days – but... I don't know, Earnest, it was only curiosity before, yet every new thing I learn about him makes me want to know more and more and more."

"Well, you know what they say." He winked at me playfully and sang, "Que sera, sera."

"Whatever will be, will be," I continued for him. "The future's not ours to see."

"Tell that to your sister," he commented rather than go on with the song, and we both laughed before slipping into silence.

In truth, his words had made my thoughts stray to darker places. Namely, the fact that Alice was currently the only one of my siblings that was speaking to me. She had held off on telling them where I had gone when I didn't show up at our cars the other day, for once actually trying to keep a secret, but had caved to peer pressure eventually, and by the time I made it back to the house the whole family knew I had asked Beau to the dance, and that he'd said yes. Their reactions had varied wildly.

Rosalie had gone on an angry tirade about my selfishness, foolishness and all round terrible sisterly conduct, as if my going on a date with an innocent young boy was a personal affront to her.

Eleanor had been completely perplexed, wondering aloud if I was dabbling in a succubus phase and whether I had a plan for disposing of the body if I accidentally ate him. That had set my teeth grinding, but I'd let it slide because unlike her wife, Ellie intended no malice with her words.

Jasper was concerned, quickly moving into strategy mode and speculating on what it was going to take to keep Beau from finding out the secret, and potential contingencies should those plans fail. My snarl when he'd started outlining ways to make it look like the boy had died in his sleep had finally shut him up and put a deep frown on his scarred brow.

Most cuttingly of all, Edward had walked out of the room and then right out of the house without a backward glance, and had continued ever since to leave any room I entered, even his own, acting as if I didn't exist.

Our parents had been more circumspect in their reactions and had yet to pass judgement either way. I'd been encouraged by the fact that Earnest had agreed to drive us tonight, and it seemed that I had been right – he now clearly approved of Beau.

Still, it didn't reduce the sting of rejection I felt every time I thought of my brother's blank, unfeeling look. I'd known this wasn't going to be easy, that there were going to be worries about secrecy and fears for our safety. But was it too much to hope for a little bit of support from my nearest and dearest? Edward had been by my side for over eighty years, he knew me better than anyone in the world – why could he not be happy that I had finally found someone to care for, no matter how impractical the choice?

And I truly did care for Beau, I had realised. At some point tonight – maybe even before – he had gone from an object of curiosity to someone cherished, even, dare I say it, beloved. I had asked him almost all of my many, many questions tonight, and yet I still wanted to spend time with him. Indeed, by far the best part of tonight had been our dance, sweet and slow and fumbling as it had been, when we weren't speaking at all; I had only stopped because I knew his reluctance for the activity and had been more focused on getting my answers while I still could. I imagined I could spend hours with him not saying a word, and still be just as satisfied as I felt now. Perhaps it was selfish and dangerous, as my siblings had accused me of being. But didn't I deserve the same happiness they shared? Or was it not possible for one of us to make that kind of connection with a human?

Earnest stayed quiet for the rest of the drive home as these thoughts and others like them swirled around my head. At last, we pulled into the garage and he brought the car to a stop in its usual spot. I had no more complex plans than getting up to my room, changing into more casual clothes and spending the rest of the night trying to unpick the tangled knot that was my potential relationship with Beau. But, as had happened so many times in my long life, my brother had to go and spoil things.

Edward was in the living room, playing idly with the keys of his piano, but stopped abruptly when we entered and stood, clearly intending to leave.

"Good evening, Earnest," he said smoothly as he crossed the room, heading for the back door and once again not acknowledging my existence. I didn't bother trying to speak to him, either verbally or mentally; I'd tried both already and he had ignored me every time. So I just continued moving towards the stairs, until Earnest's voice stopped us both in our tracks.

"Enough!"

Our father did not shout often. I could count the times I had seen him truly angry on one hand, which was quite an achievement given the length of our association. Never before had I heard this kind of rage in his voice, and I couldn't help cringing.

"Something the matter?" Edward still sounded cool and casual, but I could hear the strain just on the edge of his tone; he knew we were in trouble too.

"Yes, there is." When I turned, Earnest had his hands on his hips and an uncharacteristically black glare levelled at my brother. "This callous attitude towards Edythe has to stop, Edward. In fact, we need to sort out this whole situation. Everyone, family meeting. Now."

He marched towards the dining room and I followed more slowly. I half-expected Edward to make a break for it, but he came into the room too, a frustrated frown on his face. Alice flitted in right behind him, Jasper hot on her heels. Of course, we never ate in the dining room, but the space was still set up with eight chairs around the long mahogany table, and it had become our conference room whenever we needed to sit down and discuss something altogether. Earnest pulled out the chair in the middle of one side and gestured for me to sit, taking the seat on my left. Alice sat on my other side, while Edward, his chin coming up into its most stubborn and imperious set, very deliberately chose the chair directly opposite me. Jasper hovered; reading his desires, he was torn between standing by his wife and defending the position he truly believed in. Rosalie had no such qualms, as she sat right by Edward as soon as she marched into the room, arms and legs crossed and an expression of disdain on her face as she regarded me. Her eyes ran up and down my outfit, fixing on the flower corsage still around my wrist, and she sneered nastily. Eleanor, coming in behind her, was uncharacteristically serious; she sat on the end seat, between Rose and Alice, which seemed to make up Jasper's mind for him as he took the free chair beside Edward.

Carine was last into the room, stoic and authoritative with just a hint of concern creasing the corners of her mouth. She sank gracefully into the remaining spot at the head of the table, all our eyes turned to her as she surveyed the clearly drawn battle lines between us.

"Alright," she said calmly after a moment. "Earnest, you called us together. The floor is yours."

Earnest folded his hands together and leaned forward on the table, all his focus firmly fixed on Edward even as he addressed the room at large. "I think we all know why we're here, but I'll make it perfectly clear. The way you all have been treating your sister for the last few days is utterly unacceptable, and I am not going to allow it to go on any longer. So, we are going to hash this out properly, not like that screaming session the other night." His eyes cut sharply to Rosalie. "I don't expect that we all will be able to stay calm, but we will be civil, understood?"

A murmur of somewhat disgruntled agreement went around the table. We all had enough experience to know not to argue with Earnest when he was in full Dad mode.

Earnest gave a satisfied nod. "Good, thank you. Now, while my personal feeling is that this is a happy event and something to celebrate, I recognise that the rest of you have concerns, and I think it will be helpful to understand those first. We all need to be on the same page with this."

"Concerns," Rosalie scoffed, rolling her eyes. "That's putting it mildly, don't you think?"

"Civil, please," Earnest reminded her, a note of warning in his voice. "I believe we're already familiar enough with your views on the subject."

"Fine." Rose's expression remained militant, but she sat back in her chair. "You're right, I said everything I needed to say the other night. I still think you're taking a stupid, selfish risk that's putting all of us in the firing line, and I don't like it. Ed, Jazz, your turn."

Edward locked eyes with me for the first time since that fateful lunch hour. There was nothing in his surface desires but a wish for us all to be safe; I didn't dare dig deeper and risk shattering this fragile truce.

"There isn't anything else," he assured me. "Dig all you want, that's all you'll find."

I shook my head slowly. "Say what you have to say, brother. Earnest is right, we all have to understand each other if we're going to find a solution to all this."

"Alright." He sat up a little straighter, squaring his shoulders. "I know that you're curious about this boy and you feel he is somehow different from all the others, but the fact remains that he is human. We stay away from them for a reason."

"The Volturi have enough excuses to keep careful watch on us as it is," Jasper chimed in; of course, with his past, this was naturally where his worries came from. "Just living among humans is too close for their liking. Inviting one of them into our lives is pushing our luck more than we are comfortable with."

"You know I'm not going to tell him anything," I reasoned. "I wouldn't ever compromise us like that."

"How long do you think it's going to take him to work it out?" Rosalie snapped. "He's a child, not a complete idiot."

I bared my teeth at her, bristling at the insult. "He isn't either."

"Girls," Carine warned. "Settle down."

"Rose makes a good point, despite her poor choice of words," Edward said diplomatically. "I've been watching him just as closely as you have, Edythe. Beau can be very observant when he wants to be, and he isn't blind or foolish. Sooner or later, he will see something or hear something that tips him off. And then what will we do?"

"Move on, like we always have." I sighed. "I know it's probably sooner than we all would like, but if it's what we have to do…"

"Will you be able to do that?" Edward challenged. "Don't forget how much I can hear from you, sister. I know leaving is the last thing on your mind."

The thought of leaving did send a pang through my chest; by the looks on their faces, both my brothers could feel it, and neither of them was happy, which only got my hackles up again. "Fine, I don't want to leave, is that what you want to hear? I want to throw all caution to the wind and risk all our lives just so I can finally have my first boyfriend at last. I'm long overdue, wouldn't you say? After all, one hundred and three is very late to start dating." I dropped the sarcasm and did my best to rein in my temper. "Do you think I haven't already considered every angle, every possible way this could work out? He would be at just as much risk if the Volturi found out, do you think I want to even chance him being hurt? Chief Swan relies on him, and he has a mother and sister too."

"But what's the point?" Eleanor said; her face held less censure than the others, only confusion. "You get close to him, he gets close to you, both of you have a great time, all good. I for one don't deny you've got a right to be happy, Edy. But if you're not going to tell him the truth, and we've got to leave in the end whatever happens, aren't you just setting both of you up to get your hearts broken?"

My eyes dropped to the flowers on my wrist, twisting the elastic around the index finger of my other hand. "I've thought of that too. I don't know the answer yet."

"Perhaps it doesn't have to be a disaster for him to find out," Earnest reasoned. "There are humans in our world that know the secret and keep it. The Volturi themselves have human servants."

"And most of them end up as dinner," Edward pointed out flatly. "Besides, you know they are always the exceptions to their own rules. They won't tolerate that kind of behaviour from anyone else. Especially not the freak show Cullens."

Carine spoke up again. "Alice, you're uncharacteristically quiet. We all seem to be speculating on the future, and that is your area of expertise. Can you see anything?"

Alice was indeed unusually sombre and very thoughtful as she replied, her eyes not quite as glassy as they were in some of her stronger visions, but distant, searching through the mists of events yet to come. "It's hard to tell… there's so many possibilities. We could go and it would all be over tonight… she could tell him, he could work it out, or he could stay in the dark. There's a chance…" She trailed off, wanting to keep whatever this vision was to herself.

My brother, however, could clearly hear it, and he was making faces again.

"Tell me, Alice," I insisted. "If I'm to make my decision and clear things up for you, I need to know every possibility."

She blinked twice, coming out of her semi-trance state, and took my hand gently, nothing but sympathy in her eyes. "He is human, after all. There is a chance that you'll kill him. Or if you don't, he runs into something else that does it. It's one of the more fleeting visions, but a coffin is clear enough."

A shudder of revulsion ran up my spine and I found myself shaking my head almost as a reflex.

"Oh god," Rosalie groaned. "Look at her! She's already in too deep! We're wasting our time, we might as well go to Volterra and hand ourselves in right now."

"That isn't the only ending I see for him," Alice insisted, irritation colouring her tone. "He could also be one of us."

Everyone seemed startled by this revelation, with the exception of Edward who had obviously seen it already. No one could have been more surprised than me. I'd never even considered that such a future was possible; it certainly would suggest a much greater depth to our connection, that I would be... and he would be... I couldn't even think the word, it was such a baffling and frightening concept to consider.

"The Quileutes won't stand for that," Carine said, and I thought I detected a hint of regret in her voice. "Our agreement with them is very clear. They knew enough about us to word that part very carefully – we aren't ever to bite a human again. Assuming that that particular future ever becomes more certain, it will take delicate handling."

"We shouldn't even be considering it!" Rosalie thundered. "Carine, I can't believe you're encouraging this reckless, idiotic-"

"I'm not." Carine spoke sharply, cutting Rosalie off, then moderated her tone as she went on. "I am simply trying to look at the problem from every side. You have all made your feelings clear, but I must be honest, I don't see a solution. At least not right now, not something we can say with certainty will lead to a favourable outcome for all of us, including Beau." She sighed heavily, turning to me with a look that was now openly apologetic. "Edythe, you know I would never want to dictate to you how you live your life. I have never been that sort of mother and I don't intend to start now. But I'm afraid I must ask you, for all our sakes, to exercise caution and keep some distance from this boy. I wish for your happiness, of course, but your siblings are right – we simply can't afford to take the risk of discovery."

I wanted to be calm and reasonable. I wanted to say I understood and I would be careful. Because in truth, I did understand the logic behind what she was saying. The future was uncertain, and we had to keep ourselves safe. Yet none of that seemed to matter in the face of the pain I felt at the idea of never speaking to Beau again. I could already imagine how confused he would be if, after being so open tonight, encouraging all his advances, I suddenly shut down and cut myself off from him. My only hope was that he was not so far into this as I was, that his changeable human nature would let him heal and move on – I didn't dream for a moment that he would not be hurt for a little while. A stubborn, petulant part of me wanted to tell them all to go to hell, but I knew that would accomplish nothing. In the end, I settled on a compromise.

"I won't avoid him," I said, locking eyes with each of my siblings in turn. "And I will not allow him to be harmed, whatever may happen. But I will concede to not seeking him out. We rarely cross paths at school, and I won't go out of my way to change that. If he approaches me, however, I won't turn him away."

Carine nodded. "That seems like a reasonable concession, agreed?"

Alice and Earnest immediately murmured their agreement, though the latter didn't look entirely happy; he reached across and squeezed my hand reassuringly.

"Sounds good to me." Eleanor was relaxed, back to her usual carefree self. This was a decision made, and for her, that meant the matter was settled.

Rosalie was more sour. "Whatever. I still think it's too much risk, but I guess no one listens to me anymore."

"We have heard you, Rose," Carine said soothingly. "We have to find a middle ground here."

"It will need to be monitored closely," Jasper mused. "But I agree, it's a fair compromise. For now." He didn't consciously mean for there to be a warning in his words, but I knew it was there.

"Edward?" Earnest prompted, when almost ten seconds had passed and my brother hadn't said a word. Tension thrummed through me as I waited for him to pass his judgement. Of course, the decision was already made and nothing Edward could say would change it. I was also sure that there was no way to change his mind about Beau and I. Yet I couldn't shake the wish that my brother could simply be happy for me.

When his answer came at last, it was quiet, calm, and straightforward. "Fine."

It was what I had been expecting; if anything, it was better that I had expected, because it wasn't more arguing. Still, that single word was like a punch to the gut. Reflexively, my eyes closed tight and I clenched my fists before forcing myself to relax and stand up calmly.

I regarded all of my family members with my best neutral expression. "Well, thank you all for your input. I'm glad we could come to an agreement, and I'm truly sorry for all the trouble I've caused, including the interruption to your evening. I won't take up any of your time. Goodnight, everyone."

Without waiting for any of them to respond, I turned and walked out of the dining room, before running upstairs and closing my bedroom door firmly behind me. The privacy was incomplete, of course; there was nowhere I could go in the house that I could be truly alone. Indeed, even now I could hear my father down below saying, "So that settles it. Any more hostility towards her, and you'll be on grocery duty until the end of the school year, understood?" and the grumbling assent of my siblings.

Despite its functional uselessness, the closed door felt like enough of a barrier for me to finally go to pieces quietly. I slumped to the floor, resting my forehead on my knees as one by one, all my half-formed plans, vague imaginings and hopeful wishes danced through my head, and I had to come to terms with the fact that none of them would ever come to pass. Because as much as I hated to admit it, my brothers and sisters were right. There was no future for Beau and I, no good future at least. Someone was always going to get hurt, physically or emotionally – better for it to happen now, while it was still new, and I would take the brunt of the pain. It was the right thing to do, for my family and for his too; I wasn't going to take him away from them. All of us would be safe.

Still, I was selfish, as Rosalie had accused me of being, and I couldn't help wallowing for a while in the sharp sense of loss I felt at the prospect of a life without him in it. I was caught between wanting to tear my way out of my dress, throw it away in the hope that the memory of tonight would go with it, and a deep desire to never take it off, to hold on to this most perfect of evenings forever. In the end, I knew I couldn't do either.

So I finished my grieving and stood, carefully sealing away my pain for the moment as I went through the methodical process of returning myself to normal. I stepped out of my shoes and placed them back in their spot on the rack in my closet. I pulled the zip of my dress slowly down, unhooked the straps from my shoulders and let the fabric fall to the floor in a rush of silk and tulle. Then I put it back on its hanger and slid it into place amongst my other formal outfits. I made a mental note to ask Alice not to remove these items next time she refreshed my wardrobe; I could allow myself these mementos, I decided, these little reminders of tonight could stay with me. I pulled the elastic from my wrist and studied the flowers for a moment, not sure what to do with them. The petals were already curling at the edges, an infinitesimal wilting nonetheless visible to my eyes that suddenly seemed like some kind of dark omen.

Shaking off the depressing thoughts, I crossed to my shelves and looked for an appropriately thick book to use as an impromptu flower press. I settled at last on my copy of Victor Hugo's Les Misérables, laying the little bundle of carnations carefully between its pages and folding them away; I toyed for half a second with putting the book back on the shelf, before laying it on my bedside table instead. Then I redressed in a plain t-shirt and jeans and moved into my bathroom. I systematically wiped away each bit of makeup on my face until every scrap was gone, and gently combed through my hair with a wetted brush to take out the kinks from the braids and help drop the curls back into their usual loose wave.

My reflection in the mirror was just as it had always been, unchanged since that dull cloudy evening in November of 1919, when I had finally come through the agony of transformation and begun my new life. The only facet of this face that had ever altered – that ever would – was my eyes, which had shifted from blazing red to soft gold and continued to cycle back and forth from black. Would I see them turn to crimson again, if Alice's darkest visions came true?

No. No, I wouldn't let that happen. Beau would be safe from every threat, including me.

Someone knocked softly on my bedroom door. I considered ignoring it – I was in no mood for company. Yet if it was one of my parents, I would feel guilty leaving them standing outside. I began to cross the room to open the door when a voice came from the other side of it.

"It's me."

Edward. I stopped dead in the middle of the carpet. Of all the members of my family, he was the one I least wanted to see right now.

I heard him sigh heavily, and when he spoke the remorse was clear in his voice. "I know. I know I'm not your favourite person at the moment. And I'm sorry, Edythe, I really am. Of course I want you to be happy, but this boy... he's not the one for you, he can't be. It can only end in disaster, and I just want to protect you from that. You'll find that person someday, someone suitable, someone righ-"

"Stop," I snapped, cutting him off. "Just stop trying to pretend that you actually care about how I feel."

"Edythe..." he started to say, but I was done listening. I shoved my window open roughly and leapt out into the night, racing away as soon as my feet met the grass and trying to ignore the prickling in my eyes which told me that, had I still been human, there would have been a trail of tears behind me.

Beau

"You went on a date?"

I sighed, switching the phone from one ear to the other as I opened the fridge in search of butter. "There's no need to sound quite so surprised, Bell."

"I'm not surprised," Bella corrected. "I am utterly dumbfounded. An actual human female agreed to spend an entire evening with you."

"Again, ow," I complained. "And besides, she asked me."

"That makes it even more unbelievable," she insisted. "Are you sure you didn't dream all of this?"

"Positive." Although the whole night had felt rather dreamlike, and I'd had little to no contact with Edythe in the weeks since the dance. I'd rationalised it to myself, of course; one of those weeks had been Spring Break, and as a freshman and a sophomore we rarely ran into each other even when we were at school. Yet I couldn't help feeling disappointed. Perhaps I'd been misreading some kind of signal... But she hadn't exactly been subtle about wanting to spend more time together. Had something happened to change her mind? Was she just being nice, and had no real intention to see each other again?

And yet, there were odd moments where we almost connected. She would pass me in the hall and flash me a small smile or wave when she caught me watching her from across the cafeteria. Only yesterday, she'd been walking behind me as I made my way to Gym; just as I'd realised she was there, her sister Rosalie had appeared and whisked her off in another direction, loudly berating her for going the wrong way to her next class.

I couldn't make it all fit together in my head, but one thing was for sure, something felt off.

Bella pulled my attention back to the here and now. "Well, she'll figure out how much of a pain you are eventually, don't worry. In the meantime, maybe just keep it on the down low? Renée is already freaking out about her sweet baby boy growing up too fast." Her voice dripped with sarcasm; I could practically hear her eyeroll, but also the genuine note of concern. Bella had spent her whole life managing our mother's changeable moods, and she was always trying to minimise the impact of anything that might distress her.

"Hey, she didn't hear anything from me," I assured her. "It's not my fault our parents gossip like old women under the guise of keeping each other informed."

My sister laughed. "True, true. I'll find a way to talk her down. How's Charlie taking it?"

"Pretty well. He keeps not so subtly asking when we're going out again."

"And?"

I sighed. "I don't know. It feels like maybe it's my turn to make a move, but I have no idea where to start."

She was sympathetic now, all teasing gone as her empathetic side took over. "You'll get there. Just give it time, if it's meant to happen, then it will."

"Maybe..." I glanced at the clock. "Alright, I've got to go, sis, the Blacks are coming over to watch the game and I've barely started dinner. Give my love to Mom, tell her not to worry."

"Will do, say hi to Charlie for me too." For whatever reason, Bella used our parents' names more often than me, although never to their faces. "Love you, Beau."

"Love you too, little sister."

"Two minutes!" she snapped, and hung up.

I smiled as I put the phone away and started cooking in earnest. Nothing fancy, just burgers and homemade fries; we'd probably end up eating in front of the TV, so finger food was practically required. I let the food prep distract me from my other worries, and just as I got to the stage where all I was doing was watching everything cook, my dad got home and kept my mind occupied with telling me about his day and asking about mine. There wasn't much to tell, but it wasn't long after that when Bonnie and Jules arrived. Harry Clearwater had driven them up and stayed to chat for a few minutes before he had to get going.

"Sure you can't stay?" Charlie asked him. "We can pull together an extra plate, can't we, Beau?"

"We can make something work," I agreed, but Harry was shaking his head.

"No, no, Sue'll have my head if I'm not home for dinner. Besides, I promised Seth I'd watch the game with him, and Leah's got a project due that I said I'd help her with. Maybe another time."

"Aright, well, give 'em all my best." Charlie patted him on the shoulder and stayed on the front porch to wave him off while Jules and I rearranged the living room furniture to make a bit more room for her mom's wheelchair. It wasn't the easiest job in the world; I wasn't exactly strong, and skinny thirteen-year-old Jules didn't offer much help. Eventually, we found an arrangement that worked, and I got the food plated up with about twenty minutes to spare before the start of the Mariners game.

It was an evening like many we'd had before, casual chat and lots of inside jokes as the game went on. The baseball was almost secondary; this particular game proved to be not exciting enough to hold anyone's attention for very long. I took the plates out to the kitchen during the last inning break and got started on the dishes, not bothered about being back in time for the game to start up again. Jules helped me with carrying the plates and then took charge of the dish towel, chattering away about her school friends and her latest engine building project.

"Now all I need is the alternator, and it'll be good as new," she was saying, when the sound of raised voices could suddenly be heard clearly from the living room. At first, I thought the game had finally got interesting, but then I realised the shouting was angry, not excited.

"What's going on?" Jules wondered, heading for the door.

I grabbed her arm to stop her. "Wait a minute, listen."

Bonnie and Charlie had been best friends practically their whole lives, and I could only think of one thing they'd ever argued about this heatedly – the Cullens.

When the Cullens had first arrived in town last summer, Bonnie had told everyone on the reservation not to go the hospital anymore. According to what my dad had told me, she insisted the family were dangerous but wouldn't give any details, and he couldn't understand why she would risk people's health for no good reason. I wasn't sure whether they'd ever fully patched things up, but I could guess what had sparked the argument again.

Even being as quiet as we could, it was still hard to hear exactly what they were saying; I moved to stand in the hallway, just at the bottom of the stairs and out of sight of the living room, Jules shadowing me closely.

My dad's voice came through first. "Look, Bonnie, if you could just tell me exactly what the problem is, then we might have something to talk about. But until then, I've got to trust what I see with my own two eyes, and all I've seen is a polite, well-behaved young lady who my son clearly cares about and wants to get to know better. Right now, I've got no reason to stop him from doing that."

"Charlie, please," Bonnie begged, moderating her volume but no less intense for being quieter. "We've always trusted each other's judgement. I've never interfered in how you raise Beau, except when you've asked for my help, so you should know I wouldn't even bring it up unless I thought it was absolutely necessary. This... girl isn't good for him, and you can't allow it to go any further than it already has."

The way she said 'girl' was strange. It was disdainful, certainly, but there was an undercurrent of something else. The pause, I decided, was where the real weirdness was; it was like she'd been looking for the right word, and had landed on 'girl' but wasn't completely happy with her choice. Like it wasn't the right word to describe Edythe – because there was no one else they could be talking about.

"The Cullens have done nothing but good things for this town." Charlie still sounded frustrated. "Everyone at the hospital speaks very highly of the doctor, and I've had more trouble from my own kid than any of theirs. I'm sorry, Bonnie, I can't justify condemning them based entirely on your superstitions. A legend isn't proof, not to me."

This was news to me; it sounded like there was something in the Quileutes' tribal traditions that was guiding Bonnie in her hatred of Edythe's family. Had Charlie just not mentioned it before, or was it new information for him too? When I glanced back at Jules, she was fidgeting uncomfortably, an embarrassed look on her face.

Bonnie sighed heavily. "Well, I've said my piece, I can see I won't convince you now. In time, perhaps, you'll come to see my side. But I promise you, Charlie, the Cullens are no good, and you shouldn't let Beau be anywhere near them."

My dad didn't reply, just made a gruff, disgruntled noise. The sound of the game filled the silence. Jules moved to go back into the living room, but I held her back for another few seconds; the delay worked in my favour, as Charlie called out to me a moment later.

"Beau, you done yet? Ninth inning's started!"

"Right here, Dad," I called back, walking in and hoping that none of what I had heard showed on my face. "We still winning?"

"Of course," Bonnie said casually as I sat heavily back on the couch. "There's no way the Blue Jays can catch up now."

And that was practically the last thing anyone said all evening. Our parents made a good show of being civil, but the frosty atmosphere would have been obvious even if Jules and I hadn't heard the tail end of their argument. Charlie drove the Blacks home right after the game ended, no one in the mood to hang around and chat.

I cleared the last of the dishes, then pottered around in my room while I waited for Charlie to get back, leaving the door open so I would hear him come in. I finished the bit of homework I had lying around and started reading ahead in the book we were working on for English class – Animal Farm, which I was finding a bit heavy-handed with its messages and not a very enjoyable reading experience in and of itself. Charlie made his usual noisy entrance; I waited until I heard him flop into his recliner with a heavy sigh before I went to lean in my bedroom doorway.

"Hey, Dad?"

"Yeah, kiddo?" He sounded even more tired than he looked, which only made my guilt over eavesdropping that much worse. I nearly changed my mind, but I knew coming clean would be better in the long run.

"Just... I heard you talking to Bonnie... about Edythe. Sorry, I know I shouldn't have been listening in."

His weary look deepened, mixing with sadness. "No, I'm sorry, Beau. You shouldn't have had to hear that. I don't know what it is about the Cullens that's got Bonnie so tied up in knots, but it doesn't give her a right to try and dictate whether or not other people spend time with them."

"She told you not to let me see Edythe?" I guessed; even though I hadn't actually heard that part, it had been pretty clear that a request in that vein was at the root of their quarrel.

Charlie nodded. "She asked if anything was new with you, and I mentioned your date... not very respectful of your privacy, I know, but it's the sort of thing Bon and I have always shared. Then when she asked who you'd gone out with, I told her about Edythe and she got this panicked look in her eye and insisted I shouldn't allow you to see her again. You probably heard the rest."

"Yeah, I think I did." I crossed my arms, looking down at my feet. "What do you think her problem is?"

"I have no earthly idea, son, I really don't." He huffed out a deep breath. "But whatever it is, I don't share it, so you go right ahead and hang out with Edythe as much as you want. I'll drive you anywhere you want to go, just say the word."

"Thanks, Dad." I gave him a small smile that faded quickly. "I don't know if that's going to happen though. I'm not sure there's anything for Bonnie to be worrying about in the first place."

That made him frown and sit forward in his chair, leaning his elbows on his knees. "What do you mean? You told me you had a good time at the dance."

"I did," I assured him. "And I thought she did too, it's just... well, we haven't talked since, and I guess I thought if she wanted something to happen between us, she'd come ask for it, you know?"

Charlie's frown shifted into a knowing smile, and he chuckled. "Oh, kiddo, even you have to know better than that. I may not have the best track record when it comes to women..." He cringed slightly, his eyes flickering to the pictures of Renée on the mantle. "Clearly. But one thing I do know is there's got to be give and take. She made the first move, after all, maybe she's waiting for you to take a turn."

I'd already had the same idea myself, and I knew he was right; it wasn't fair for me to expect Edythe to take the lead on everything. Still... "That's kind of terrifying. Especially when the only times I can be sure I know where she is, she's always with her brothers and sisters."

"You'll figure it out. If it's meant to be, right?"

I smiled. "That's what Bella said."

"Well, your sister's a pretty smart girl." He sat back in his chair again, no longer looking quite as stressed "Staying up a bit longer, or are you going to head to bed?"

"Bed, I think. Night, Dad."

I did change into my pyjamas and lay in my bed, but sleep eluded me for a long time. I tried reading, both the book for class and more enjoyable fare; nothing kept my attention, and I found myself rereading the same passages over and over again without ever really taking them in. My mind was a whirl of questions, worries and wonderings, and even when sheer exhaustion dragged me into unconsciousness, images of Edythe still haunted my dreams.

There were certainly worse things to be dreaming about.

Edythe

This was so many shades of wrong, it was hard to pinpoint them all. But then, right and wrong were losing some of their clarity when it came to Beau Swan.

I should not be following him around school with every spare minute I could find, in complete defiance of the deal I'd made with my siblings.

I should not be spending hours sitting outside his house listening in on his conversations with his father.

I definitely should not be crouched in the underbrush where the forest met his back lawn, trying to get a good view through his bedroom window as he slept.

And yet, there I was.

The worst part about it was that I didn't precisely feel bad about what I was doing. I ought to be harbouring some level of guilt over basically turning into a stalker. Yet the peace that being near him gave me overwhelmed everything else.

In the weeks since the dance, I had been finding it harder and harder to keep my promise to my family. Honestly, it was a minor miracle that it had taken me this long to cave to the urge to indulge these new mildly psychotic tendencies. I'd surprised even myself when I hadn't run to him that very first night. But I had needed the space and the remoteness of the forest then, racing into the wide expanse of the Olympic wilderness, so I could push my legs faster until it almost felt like the muscles were burning, so I could plough through undergrowth without a care for whether my path would be found, so I could rip and tear at the trees and vent my frustration where no one would see the destruction.

Yet even after losing myself in the wildest aspects of my nature for hours, all I could think of was what Beau would think if he could see me. Would he be afraid, or would he marvel? Run away, or ask if I was alright? If he saw me so clearly being a vampire, would he still think I was a queen?

It made the hurt sting all the more when I realised I didn't know the answer.

So I had stayed away, knowing, even if I didn't like it, that it was what was best for him. Although I could hardly have approached him should I have tried; my siblings were seeing to that most thoroughly.

None of them had been openly hostile again, not daring to risk Earnest's wrath, and they'd stopped ignoring me. In fact, they had swung fully in the other direction – they now never left me alone. Everywhere I went, I was accompanied by one or more of them, a subtle or not so subtle chaperone, depending on the person. I was never left in the house by myself, never hunted alone, never even walked between classes without an escort, even if it took them out of their way to find me. Only once, I'd managed to slip away and had been quietly tailing Beau towards the gym, never intending to speak to him but only to pass by and give us both one of the scant, snatched interactions we'd been reduced to in the last few weeks. But Rosalie had tracked me down and dragged me away, holding back from the dressing-down she wanted to give me only because she knew I would see it clearly in her desires.

The only saving grace was Alice. The others trusted her to keep me in check, but she was still very much on my side. She had been the one to accompany me here the last few nights, with every excuse under the sun for why we were going out, and then kindly left me alone to be a creep in private. To finally be without observation had felt like a physical weight being lifted from my shoulders, not to mention the fact that the gnawing ache in the pit of my stomach had eased.

Watching Beau more closely, I had started to realise just how clumsy he could be, and to appreciate more keenly the sheer fragility of human beings. Anything and everything could be a threat to them, and the thought of what could potentially happen to him at any time while he was out of my sight had begun to generate an anxiety in me that was now almost permanent. I knew I must be driving my brothers mad, my mood always on the edge of panic, my mind swirling with doomsday scenarios, but I didn't try to moderate it, petulant as such behaviour was. Let them see what being separated from him was doing to me. Let them understand some small part of what I felt.

Today, Beau had made it to every class on time without tripping over and smashing his face on the concrete, ad got home without getting in a car accident. He had cooked steak and potatoes without cutting his fingers or burning himself, and finished his homework without getting electrocuted by his ancient computer. He had sat watching TV with his father and not suffered any spontaneous brain aneurisms, strokes or heart attacks. And now, he lay sleeping in his bed, his breathing and heartbeat both healthy and strong, with no sign of sleep apnoea or arrhythmia or any of the thousands of things that could happen to him, even laying peacefully in his bed. He was quiet and calm, snoring softly, sprawled across the mattress with the book he'd fallen asleep reading hanging from his hand. I sighed happily, leaning back against a nearby tree as I settled in for my vigil.

I was so absorbed I almost didn't hear the sound of approaching footsteps. But then they did register, and the sigh that escaped me this time was heavy and frustrated.

"This isn't what I would call keeping your distance," Edward commented, somehow restraining himself to only mild disapproval. He strolled casually to my side, leaning against the trunk beside me with one foot propped up and his hands in his pockets.

I rolled my eyes at him. "He doesn't know I'm here. There's no chance he could work out our secret from this, don't worry."

The look he gave me now was much more openly reproachful. "You know that isn't the only thing that concerns me, sister."

I raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Do I?"

"You should. Your happiness and wellbeing will always be my first priority."

"Need I remind you which of us is the older sibling?" I pointed out. "As my little brother, that is hardly your responsibility."

Now it was his turn for an eyeroll. "Oh really, Edythe, aren't we passed all that? I'm sure we agreed my extra year as a vampire balanced out your extra year by birth. Besides, isn't that sort of petty argument a bit juvenile?"

I bristled. "If you're going to be rude, I'd rather you leave."

As if in defiance of my words, he settled more firmly against the bark behind him. "That would defeat my purpose in coming here."

"That's already a lost cause," I informed him venomously. "I'm not leaving."

As I expected he would, he matched my anger. "Why must you always be so stubborn? Can't you see I'm trying to help you?"

"I do see that," I agreed. "I just don't want your help. You don't get to dictate how I live my life, Edward. I've conceded to staying away from Beau because I know it's what's best for everyone, but my being here isn't causing any harm, so there's nothing you can do to stop me."

"You really think this is harmless?" He nearly spat the word, his brow deeply furrowed. "Tell me, Edythe, how are you going to feel when you do have to leave this place? Is it really enough for you to be this close and unable to go any closer? And how will you feel when he inevitably moves on, when some other pretty girl catches his attention? He's human, sister, you know as well as I do how easily they change."

"All the more reason to take what I can while I still have the chance," I insisted.

"But you know it will only end in disaster!" he growled, frustration radiating off of him. "I don't understand why you torture yourself like this, when a clean break now would surely be the better option in the long term."

I looked in at Beau again. He'd dropped the book at some point and was now lying on his side, his arm draped across his mattress as if reaching out for something. He made a few low, unintelligible mumbling sounds, then gave a deep sigh as he settled into a heavier sleep. I let everything I felt for him wash over me, no longer shying away from the truth I had been unable to even think that night three weeks ago. Still, I could only answer my brother in my mind.

I think it may be too late for that.

Edward groaned low in his throat, but when I glanced back at him, his expression had shifted – disappointed, but resigned. Finally, he understood.

"I hope you feel this way about someone someday, brother," I said softly. "I hope that one day, you will truly recognise just how terrible and how wonderful it can be. And how futile it is to try and fight it."

Without another word, Edward pushed off the tree, turned and raced away into the woods. I let him go; neither of us had anything to say to each other, not anymore.

Very few things could change a vampire, but love made the deepest and most lasting change of all. Once done, it was nearly impossible to undo. I had watched it happen to my parents, my sisters... even Jasper, who I hadn't known before he met Alice, I knew had been altered massively by his love for her. Now, experiencing it for myself, it was nothing like what I expected. More complicated, for a start, although that might just have been because of the person I'd happened to fall for.

There were many questions still to be answered, many paths that could still unfold. But I had one certainty, and that was my love for this beautiful, fragile, gentle human boy. So I held tight to that certainty and, at least for the moment, ignored all other concerns.

Beau slept, I watched, and both of us dreamed.

Beau

"Hey, Beau," Tyler said brightly as I sat down to lunch on the Friday after the fateful Mariners game. "Weather's looking good this weekend, we're thinking of heading to the beach, you in?"

"Sure," I agreed easily; a trip down to First Beach always made for an enjoyable weekend. "Just let me ask my dad, and I'll call you if I can make it."

Not that Charlie was at all likely to say no. He was usually good to drive me anywhere that I couldn't reasonably walk, provided that he was available. And so long as I got all my homework done and the house didn't look too much like a bombsite, my time had always been pretty much my own.

Sure enough, when I asked, my dad had absolutely no problem with me going out at the weekend. He was even more pleased to hear that he wouldn't have to play taxi service; Tyler's mom was driving, and she'd recruited Lee's mom – and her minivan – to accommodate those that didn't fit in her car. I just had to get to Tyler's house, which was only a few blocks away.

As I got off the phone with Tyler, a sudden idea occurred to me. I hung up, then took the receiver straight back out of its cradle and dialled the Blacks' number. I crossed my fingers that Jules would pick up, as she usually did since her mom's limited mobility made it harder for her to get to the phone quickly. Unfortunately, luck was not with me today, and it was a gravely adult voice that echoed out of the receiver.

"Black residence, this is Bonnie."

"Oh, hi Bonnie," I stuttered, trying to get my bearings. "It's Beau."

"Well, hi there, Beau, it's good to hear from you." She sounded genuinely happy to be speaking to me, as if the other night hadn't happened. "How are you doing?"

"Good." God, this felt awkward. "Um, is Jules there?"

"She's not quite back from school yet, but she should be here any minute. Anything I can do for you?"

"No, no, I was just going to ask her something, I can call back in a bit." The same guilt I had felt the other night was gnawing at my insides again, and even though I knew it was probably a bad idea, I once more felt compelled to come clean. "Um, Bonnie, just so you know, I heard you and my dad talking the other night. About the Cullens."

Her response was short, and I could hear the tension through the phone. "Ah. I see."

There was a long moment of silence, and then my stupid nerves took over and made me start babbling. "I get that you're just trying to look out for me, or whatever, but you really don't have to worry. Edythe's really great, and I haven't met the others but her dad was super nice when I met him. And I know Dad's pretty upset that you two are fighting again, he just doesn't understand, and I guess neither do I, because like he said, we haven't had any issues with them…" I trailed off, losing steam.

Bonnie was calm when she replied, but there was a hard edge to her voice; I could just picture the expression that would go with it. "The Cullens are a dangerous family, Beau. They put on a good front, but they are bad news. You should avoid having anything to do with them."

I frowned. "But why?"

"It's not my place to say." She paused, and I heard the sound of her speaking to someone else away from the phone. "Here's Jules. It was good to speak to you, Beau."

Before I could say anything, she was gone, Jules' bright voice replacing her. "Hello? Beau?"

"Hey, Jules."

"Hi!" She sounded surprised but pleased to hear from me; we hadn't spoken since their awkward departure the other night. "What's up?"

"Well…" I shook my head, trying to pull myself out of the dark conversation with her mother and get back to my original purpose of calling. "I just wanted to let you know, my friends and I are coming down to the beach on Saturday, I thought maybe you might like to come join us?"

"Really? That sounds awesome!" Jules was her usual enthusiastic self, as if nothing had ever happened. "What time?"

"We're meeting at Tyler's for ten, so maybe ten-forty-five, eleven?"

"Alright, I'll meet you then." She paused, and when she spoke again she was more hesitant, whispering low as if trying not to be overheard. "Should I tell my mom where I'm going, or do you want me to spin a story? I could say I'm at Quil's place."

"No, it should be fine," I assured her. "I don't think it's really me and Dad that Bonnie is mad at."

"Right." She chuckled awkwardly. "Well, see you tomorrow, I guess."

"See you then," I agreed. "Bye, Jules."

The next morning dawned, and it was indeed sunnier and warmer than usual. I felt safe leaving my sweater at home, although I did still opt for jeans and long sleeves. When I got to Tyler's, I saw a couple of the guys in shorts and McKayla wearing a tiny little skirt; she already looked cold and I knew she'd be complaining before the afternoon was out. Angela had opted for a more sensible outfit, even still wearing a jacket. She smiled at me as I walked up, her quiet little wave a counterpoint to the noisy greetings the boys gave me. When girls had started to be something I actually paid attention to, I'd briefly entertained the thought of dating almost all the female members of my social circle. Angela was the one I'd spent the least time crushing on, probably because she reminded me a lot of my sister. Still, she was sweet and kind and probably the sort of girl I'd have ended up with in another life – much more my type than McKayla or Erica, that was for sure. But this was a world where Edythe Cullen existed, and I'd accepted early on, long before I'd ever even spoken to her, that no other woman in the world could compare to her.

The drive down to First Beach was the same as always. I ended up in the way back of the minivan, sat next to Jeremy and well buffered from Lee's mom, who was peppering everyone in the front with questions. Jer talked my ear off about his family's trip to Mexico over the break, but thankfully didn't need much contribution from me. In the row in front, McKayla had struck up a game of kiss, marry, kill with Katie, both of them giggling like maniacs while Angela watched the scenery pass outside the window. It was a typical scene, one that had been repeated many times over the years, though of course the topics of conversation had evolved over the years. Not by much in some cases; Lee was still arguing with his mom about homework in the front seat.

At last, we pulled into the little pebble parking lot and piled out of the cars, yelling our thanks to the moms who, after some negotiation, agreed to come back to pick us up at three. As I'd predicted, it was just before eleven, which gave us a good few hours to hang out and enjoy the relatively good weather. The first job was to get the fire going, a tradition that dated back to our very young days, when these trips had still included parental supervision; McKayla's dad had first taught us how to build a campfire, and it had been Charlie's suggestion to use driftwood instead of foraging in the nearby woods. An excitable gang of eight-year-olds had been absolutely thrilled by the colours dancing in the flames. At the time, it had seemed like magic, and I'd begged my dad for weeks to tell me the secret of the trick.

We were older now, and we understood the science behind what we were seeing, but it was no less beautiful to watch the blue and green fire flicker to life at Kay's coaxing. I wondered what Edythe would think – would she marvel at the colours as we did, or find it all too juvenile? She was only a year older than us (only about six months older than me, as I'd discovered) but she always seemed so mature, as if she were actually a lot more than sixteen years old. It was one of the things that made me so hesitant to approach her; I felt like a child trying to flirt with a grown woman, and there was a good chance I was just going to get patted on the head and called a cutie before being sent on my way.

I realised at the last moment that I hadn't told any of my friends about inviting Jules along, but she ended up bringing a few of her own gang with her and made a very convincing show of it being a chance encounter. No one seemed bothered by the sudden inclusion of three thirteen-year-olds, the circle and the conversation merely expanding to include them. I was glad to see Jules back to her usual self, laughing and joking with her friends and mine alike. It almost made me not want to play out the rest of my plan; I really didn't want that awkward, uncomfortable Jules to come back. But how else was I going to get my answers? And more importantly, how was I going to get her on her own long enough to ask the questions?

After half an hour or so, a few people wanted to head over to the tide pools. Most of the group got up to join them, but McKayla didn't want to leave the fire – she was definitely regretting that skirt now.

"And I'm not wearing the right shoes," she added, pointing the toe of one of her black Mary Janes.

Jeremy, eying her extended leg appreciatively, eagerly jumped in. "I'll keep you company."

"I'm staying too," I chimed in. "Not really in the mood for a hike today. Plus I'm enjoying catching up with you." I smiled at Jules and she grinned back. When everyone else began moving away, she shifted to sit next to me on one of the rough logs we were using as impromptu seating. We made idle small talk for a while, mainly Jules complaining about the many injustices visited upon her by her two older sisters, Rachel and Rebecca.

"The worst part is, Mom always takes their side," she grumbled. "She keeps saying how they're still struggling with what happened to Dad, but they can't keep using that excuse forever, you know?"

"What happened to your dad?" Jer asked, looking a little wary about hearing the answer.

Jules, however, was unphased. "He died. Car accident, nearly eight years ago now. Like, obviously I miss him, but I'm over it. Why can't they move on too?"

"You were a lot younger than them, Jules," I pointed out; I'd been seven when Saul Black was hit by a drunk driver blowing through a stop light, which meant Jules had been around five while her sisters were almost nine. "And you know, everybody grieves in their own way, right?"

"I guess." She still didn't look happy.

"Makes you wonder how the Cullens manage," McKayla mused. "Six kids that all lost their parents… They must be paying some ridiculous therapy fees." She smirked. "Then again, maybe their mom does it for free."

"Dr Cullen's a surgeon, not a psychiatrist," I replied without thinking; only after the words were out did I see the glint in McKayla's eyes that said she smelled gossip.

"Was that one of the things Edythe told you when you guys were getting cosy in the corner at the dance?" she teased.

I rolled my eyes at her, trying to play it cool. "We were just talking, Kay. And yeah, we talked about her a family a little, and she asked about mine. Just getting to know each other stuff."

"She say anything about her birth parents?" Jeremy's eager interest was a little more subtle than McKayla's, but I could tell he was also itching to hear more about the reclusive Cullen family.

"Only that they've been gone for a long time, and she and Edward don't really remember them." I was sure this wasn't exactly a secret, but it still felt wrong to be talking about Edythe behind her back.

McKayla took the conversation in a different but no less uncomfortable direction. "Are you guys going out again?"

"No plans right now," I hedged, then stood up, abruptly wanting to be away from them both. "I'm going to go stretch my legs for a bit."

I walked away before any of them could protest. Every conversation about Edythe inevitably led to the same result; it reminded me of how much I wanted to see her again, and how much of a coward I was, because I still hadn't plucked up the courage to approach her. I'd caught her watching from across crowds at school more often over the last few days, and every time she saw me looking, she smiled. But there was still always that hovering sibling or two that looked decidedly less friendly. Especially Edward; the guy didn't seem to have any settings besides bored and murderous, and it was usually the latter look that he levelled at me.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't hear Jules following me until a tumble of loose pebbles behind me made me jump.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you." She smiled sheepishly. "I know you probably wanted some alone time, but your friends are flirting and it's hella gross."

I laughed along with her lightly. "Yeah, they can get like that. Worst part is, neither of them realises the other one's flirting back."

She snickered, then got thoughtful. "So, you and the Cullen girl… you really like her?" She must have seen something hesitant in my expression, because she hurried to reassure me. "I promise, I'm not spying for my mom or anything, I think she's acting crazy too. You should totally ask Edythe out, if you want to."

Jules had unknowingly handed me the perfect opportunity to ask my questions – the whole reason I'd invited her to the beach. I almost backed out – after all, what did it really matter what Bonnie thought? But I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something I needed to know, and maybe this would get part of the way to the answer.

"I've been thinking about it," I said slowly, trying to sound conflicted (which wasn't hard). "I guess I'm still caught up on what your mom said, about her being… dangerous."

Jules waved her hand dismissively. "She doesn't know what she's talking about. It's all stupid stuff, you shouldn't let it stop you."

I made a show of looking nervous to ask my next question. "Do you know what her problem is? Charlie said he couldn't get a straight answer out of her, and she wouldn't tell me anything when we talked on the phone yesterday."

Now she looked wary. "It's just some old stories… We're not really supposed to talk about it with outsiders."

I raised a disbelieving eyebrow and scoffed. "Outsiders, really? Come on, Jules, how long have we been friends? You're like my second little sister. You know you can tell me anything."

She wasn't convinced. "My mom will be so mad if she finds out I told you."

"How will she find out? I won't tell, I promise."

Jules eyed me uncertainly for a minute, but didn't look like she was going to start talking anytime soon.

"Please," I pressed. "Jules, I have to understand. And if it's all just silly old stories, then it doesn't even matter, right?"

"I guess…" She looked out across the water, deliberating a moment longer, then made up her mind. "Alright. But you have to promise not to tell that I told you."

"Bonnie won't hear it from me," I vowed.

"Right, well…" She tapped her chin thoughtfully, still looking torn. "I don't really know where to start?"

"There's an old story, and Bonnie thinks it connects to the Cullens," I reasoned. "So, what's the story? What link has she made?"

Jules nodded slowly. "It's the oldest story… one of the oldest, anyway. There's a really old one about a huge flood, and ancient Quileutes tying their canoes to the top of trees to stay safe… but it's not that one." She hurriedly shook her head, getting back to the point. "People that believe the stories, like my mom, they think that back in the old days, we had this sort of… magic, that some of our people could turn into huge wolves to protect the rest of the tribe against monsters called the Cold Ones."

"Cold Ones?" I prompted when she didn't immediately continue.

"It's a loose translation, I don't know if it's a literal description."

"And what are they?"

"Demons. Creatures of the night with flesh like stone, stronger and faster than any ordinary man. According to the legends, they're ruthless killers, taking lives without mercy and draining their victims of their blood. In one of the old tales, just one of them massacred half the tribe, and it took all our wolf protectors to kill it. I guess the nearest word in English would be… vampire."

I let that sink in for a moment; I couldn't help how incredulous I sounded when I said, "Bonnie thinks the Cullens are vampires?"

Jules smirked, seeming reassured by my disbelief. "I told you it was stupid."

"But where did she get that idea from? Last I checked, they haven't killed anybody."

"Well, supposedly the last time any Cold Ones came near us was about seventy years ago. My great-grandfather was apparently one of the wolf-men, and he and his pack came across a group hunting in the woods. Those Cold Ones claimed to be different, to only feed on animals instead of people. Great-Grandpa Ephraim believed them, but he didn't completely trust them, so he negotiated an agreement for them to stay off our land in exchange for keeping their secret. After a year or two, they moved on, but the wolves always kept an eye out for them coming back."

"And did they?" Despite myself, I was finding the story compelling; as Jules had relaxed, she had got better at telling it, giving the tale the suspense and gravity that it seemed to deserve.

"Not in his time. But if you believe my mom, they did return eventually... about six months ago."

Her final pronouncement seemed to hang in the air like a physical force. She hadn't said the words, but the implication was clear – the Cullens were the Cold Ones from seventy years ago. They were vampires.

Jules broke the silence with a nervous laugh, her bravado evaporating again. "Pretty ridiculous, right? Superstitious old woman, she's losing her mind, I swear."

"Yeah." I huffed a laugh. "Think I should be watching out for signs that Charlie's going senile too?"

"Nah, he seems to be pretty much sane, so far." She smirked, then glanced over her shoulder as a voice called out her name. "Hey, looks like everybody's back. Come on, let's go see if anyone is ready for lunch, I'm starving."

I followed her back to the group, but I couldn't engage with the conversation the way I had before, my mind too preoccupied with running through the story over and over. All through the rest of our time at the beach, the drive home, and the quiet dinner with my dad, my head was spinning with questions. I'd hoped that talking to Jules would solve the mystery, but it had just made everything more complicated. Because now I had to figure out where I stood; Jules obviously did not believe the story she'd told me, and her mother very much did. But what did I believe? Arguments went flying back and forth across my head, each thought warring with the one before it.

I was no expert, but everything I'd ever seen agreed that vampires couldn't come out in the daytime, so there was no way it could be true, because the Cullens were at school every day. Except those odd sunny days that came along every now and then, when they all disappeared on family hiking trips. Were the clouds that usually covered our town enough to protect them, and direct sunlight was a bigger problem? Or were they really just taking advantage of the good weather?

Had I ever seen any of them eat? They must have, they sat in the cafeteria at lunch time, their trays were full. Thinking about it, though, I couldn't remember any of that food going to their mouths. Edythe had a cup of punch at the dance. But had she actually been drinking from it, or pretending? I hadn't paid attention to the level of the liquid well enough to be sure.

Jules had called them 'the Cold Ones' – hadn't I noticed how frigid Edythe's skin was, and Earnest's too? Neither of them had seemed bothered by her going out without a jacket… yet she'd looked so happy when I'd lent her mine. Was it the warmth she appreciated, or just the gesture?

They were all so pale… and those eyes… but I still had never got close enough to the others to see if they were the same… they kept to themselves all the time…

And of course, there was the biggest question of all – did any of it matter? If it was somehow impossibly true, did it change anything at all?

Staring up at my ceiling, trying to sleep, I was sure of only one thing.

I needed answers, and there was only one place I was going to get them.

Edythe

"There are so many more interesting things we could be doing with our day," Eleanor grumbled from her spot perched on the tree branch above me.

"Go and do them than," I replied. "I'm not stopping you."

"And leave my darling sister all alone?" Her tone was one of exaggerated affront. "What sort of sibling do you take me for?"

I rolled my eyes at her theatrics. "You don't have to pretend for me, El, I know it's your turn to be on Edythe Watch."

The constant surveillance by my brothers and sisters hadn't let up, even though the last few days of sunny weather had made it impossible for me to even attempt approaching Beau, at least in daylight hours. The only thing that had changed was that Edward now spent as little time with me as possible. I had discovered that I just had to let my mind be filled with Beau, to let his face and his voice and his thousands of tiny endearing mannerisms consume my thoughts, and my brother was quick to disappear, a satisfyingly disgusted look on his face.

Not that it took much effort to get to that particular train of thought; I was thinking about Beau almost constantly, though thankfully the anxieties seemed to have calmed somewhat. Now I was mainly caught up with what to do in the wake of my epiphany, how to move forward with the undeniable truth that I was in love with him. I knew there was no coming back from it. Beau Swan was lodged in my heart and there was nothing anyone could do to shake him loose.

Sadly, as much as every part of that heart was screaming at me to throw caution to the wind, none of the barriers between us were going to magically disappear just because I wanted them to. There was still no hope of a true future for us while I had to keep so many secrets from him.

But it didn't stop me hoping.

Inside Forks High School, the bell rang for the end of fourth hour, and students flooded out of the buildings, many of them headed for the cafeteria. I tracked Beau as he moved from building four into the lunch hall, chatting amiably with his friends, the sun beaming down and touching the subtle red highlights in his hair. I had to shift my position amongst the trees that fringed the campus so I could keep him in my sight through the mercifully wide windows. He bought his usual modest lunch and sat at his usual table, tucking into his food with gusto. Someone made a joke and he threw his head back with laughter.

Eleanor was still shadowing me; she moved so she was once again on a branch above my head, then hooked her knees over it and dropped so she was hanging upside down, her face inches from mine and her expression one of keen analysis, her braid swinging like a pendulum in front of me.

"Do you mind?" I said tersely, leaning back and batting at her hair, then shifting to the side so she was no longer blocking my view.

She didn't acknowledge the question. "Nope, I still don't get it."

I sighed heavily. "Should I dare to ask you to elaborate? And would you please move, it's very disconcerting to see your face from this angle."

"My face is beautiful from any angle," she scoffed, but thankfully swung back onto the branch before flipping off it completely to land beside me with a soft thump. "I'm trying to figure out where the appeal is. I mean, he's not a total troll, I guess, but I'd say... average at best."

I shot her a dour look. "Because you're such an expert on the attractiveness of males."

"Hey, you know I'm all about the person, not the package. The fact that my person happens to come in the form of the finest specimen of female hotness on the planet doesn't stop me recognising beauty in the opposite sex. But, not even close to my point." She raised an eyebrow. "After all, he's only human."

Anger flared, irrational as I knew it was. As she had just pointed out, Eleanor had chosen her partner – what did it really matter what she thought of my choice? But I couldn't control my protective instincts when it came to Beau, and I had well and truly given up trying.

"So were you," I snapped. "Rose had no reason to rescue you, but she did."

I'd actually thought of this argument a few days ago, but had yet to raise it with anyone else. I knew that no matter how delicately it was presented, there was no way Rosalie wouldn't see it as an attack on her – which it sort of was, as I was really pointing out how hypocritical it was of her to object to my interest in a human when she had brought home one she'd randomly found dying in the woods. The other reason I hadn't brought it up was that I'd also thought of the counterargument; that the two situations really weren't comparable in the slightest. Rose had saved Ellie's life. Beau was in no such danger, and being with me would be more likely to do him harm than good.

My sister was far more rational in her reaction to my outburst than her sometimes-wife would have been, especially given my tone in delivering it. Rather than respond to my irritation, she simply tilted her head to the side, a thoughtful look on her face.

"Huh. I hadn't thought of that. I guess this sort of thing doesn't always make a whole lot of sense, does it?"

Her calm response completely drained my ire; I felt suddenly deflated, and I knew she would hear the sadness in my voice. "No, it doesn't."

Eleanor wasn't exactly known for her tact, but she could be surprisingly empathetic when she wanted to be. Now, she laid a comforting hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently.

"I know what it's like to have a whole lot of people telling you that what you feel is wrong," she said, actually serious for once. "And I'm sorry if I've been one of those people for you. You accepted me, even when you didn't really understand. The least I can do is return the favour."

I smiled. It was such an Eleanor thing to do, changing her mind on a dime this way and suddenly becoming open and accepting. Then again, hers had hardly been the loudest voice of protest from the beginning.

"Thank you, Ellie," I told her, and I really meant it. "I know it doesn't exactly change anything, but it's nice to have another sister on my side."

She snapped her fingers in mock irritation. "I knew Alice was a filthy traitor."

We both laughed, basking in the feeling of freedom that came from the tension between us melting away. I refocused my attention on Beau again; he was still eating his lunch, but no longer engaged in the conversation around the table, instead staring fixedly at a spot in the corner of the room. Mapping it out in my head, I knew exactly what he was looking at – the table where my siblings and I usually sat, where we were not sitting today. Did he wonder where we were, or had he swallowed the stories of surprise hiking and camping trips that we always used to cover up our absences on days like this?

Eleanor couldn't help but notice where my focus had shifted to. "Tell me more about him?" she requested, a knowing smile creeping into the corners of her mouth.

"Are you sure?" I gave her a look, assessing her seriousness. "Fair warning, I could go on for hours once I get started."

"Eh, I've probably done something to deserve it in the past seventy years." She shrugged. "Bring it, sis."

So I did. And, just as I'd warned her, it was several hours before I had exhausted everything I had to say about Beau. To her credit, Eleanor didn't once complain or make a mocking comment; in fact, she kept me going a few times by asking questions. It was something of a relief to actually talk to someone about all of it. Even with Alice, I hadn't felt able to share how I was feeling – bombarding Edward with all of it against his will didn't feel like it should count – and the chance to finally get it all off my chest was refreshing to say the least.

We were outside Beau's house, watching him do his homework at the little desk with the sadly antiquated computer, when I finally ran out of steam and fell silent. The moment stretched long as Eleanor studied my face intently.

"You really love him, don't you?"

There was no sense in denying it. "Yes, I really do."

She was smiling, the expression uncharacteristically soft, yet with a sad edge; she wanted to tell me that everything would work out, but she didn't want to lie or offer false hope.

"I know," I sighed. "I know it's still impossible. I've accepted that this may be all I get to have – stolen moments and watching from a distance. I think that can be enough."

"The question is, how long until it isn't enough anymore? How long until you need more?"

I watched Beau, now obviously wrestling with his Math homework if the deep frown on his face was anything to go by. I pictured myself standing behind him, or sitting side by side at his kitchen table, imagined how I would explain the concepts that he struggled with, how I would lean over to point out part of an equation. In my mind's eye, I could see clearly how he would react to my nearness, the wondering look that would come across his face just because I was there with him. He would be distracted, and I would probably have to go through the problem all over again; I would tease him about it, and he would give me that bashful smile as his cheeks turned the most delicious shade of pink.

It was a beautiful daydream. For now, it would have to sustain me.

Still, I had to be honest as I answered my sister's question. "I don't know. I just hope it will be long enough."

Eleanor left me with a sympathetic look and a pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the gathering dark. No one appeared to relieve her, so either it was Alice's turn, or she was supposed to stay with me and had abandoned her post, heedless of the consequences. Whatever the reason for it, I revelled in the solitude I could now enjoy; as much as I appreciated getting to share everything with Eleanor, I was still most at ease when I could indulge in my affections alone. My love felt like a delicate, fragile thing that might shatter under too much scrutiny. It was not meant to be public yet – perhaps it would not ever exist outside the bounds of my own mind, unknown to anyone but my very closest confidantes. Alice, Edward, and now Eleanor knew of it... Rosalie likely suspected, as might Jasper and Earnest, maybe even Carine. I could accept that my family would all eventually become aware of the depth of my attraction, if they weren't already. After all, it was nearly impossible to keep a secret in the Cullen house.

It was just a shame that the person I desperately wanted to tell, the one who really ought to know, was also the one person who could never learn the truth. By hiding my true nature from Beau, I was in turn forced to hide my true feelings for him.

I stayed outside the Swans' house until the sun began to rise, heading for home just as Beau was stirring from sleep. Although I was leaving, there was a spring in my strides as I ran; the weather was beautifully overcast today, back to the usual grey blanket of clouds hanging over Forks and threatening to dump water down on us at any moment. I had always enjoyed sunny days in the past, appreciating the break they offered from the mundane routine of daily life pretending to be human, but the last two days had felt more like torture as the sun kept me away from school, from him.

Even with the others having a head start on me, I was almost the first one ready to go as I flew through my morning routine. The only one who beat me to the cars was Edward; he was already in the garage when I arrived, leaning against the passenger door of his Volvo looking sour. This wasn't all that unusual, of course. Besides the fact that my brother was in a poor mood on most days, he was particularly chafing from the fact that his current persona was not yet old enough to legally drive, meaning he had to contend with others in command of his precious vehicles until he was 'sixteen' again.

Knowing I couldn't chase him off at the moment, I did try to moderate my thoughts, but it was difficult. Excitement was bubbling inside my chest, and it would have been impossible to completely banish thoughts of Beau from my mind. To his credit, Edward just made a face at me and didn't comment on my distraction. I ignored him, getting in my own car and setting about readjusting everything to my liking; Eleanor had been the last one to drive it and she had a habit of putting the seat all the way back and not fixing it. Impatience was gnawing at me, and I was about two seconds from resorting to some decidedly obnoxious horn-honking when the rest of my siblings appeared. Eleanor came towards me as usual, but Rosalie made a beeline for the Volvo, sliding gracefully into the backseat with a haughty look. A few raised eyebrows were exchanged but no one commented; Edward joined her as Jasper took the driver's seat with Alice riding shotgun. Ellie climbed into my front passenger seat, her expression just verging on disappointed.

"You told her?" I guessed.

She nodded. "She wasn't surprised, but she's still annoyed. Give her time, she'll get over it."

I scoffed. "We both know her too well to believe that."

She just made a noncommittal noise, and we both heard Rose's irritated huff from the other car.

I let Jasper pull out ahead of me and kept behind him for the whole uneventful drive to school, not in the mood for the racing we sometimes indulged in. Thoughts of my sister and her ire quickly left my mind, replaced with my usual preoccupation with Beau. Would he have missed me while I was gone? I had hardly been able to miss him, given the mild stalking habit I'd developed. Apart from that trip to La Push on Saturday; I hadn't been able to follow him there, and I cursed the treaty with the Quileutes even more than usual for the inconvenience. We didn't know if there were any of those wolf people around to enforce it, but there were definitely older members of the tribe that knew and believed the stories, and Carine refused to take any chances.

We all scattered once we arrived at school, none of us apparently inclined to hang around chatting. Rosalie stalked away with an ostentatious hair flip, Eleanor and Jasper trailing her towards their shared Physics class, while Alice headed for the gym seemingly unaffected by all the tension. I had a few extra minutes and decided to cut through the Government building on my way to English in hopes of at least spotting Beau; perhaps I could even engineer a run in with him, meet him by chance in the hallway and strike up a casual, 'how have you been?' sort of conversation.

But of course, my plan was doomed as soon as I thought of it. Rather than following Alice as he should have, Edward was shadowing me across campus. I made my irritation clear in my thoughts but refused to let it show on my face.

"We are rather past the point where I need a chaperone, don't you think, brother?" I asked, keeping my tone calm and casual.

"Are we?" he shot back. "You still don't seem to be treating this situation with the gravity it deserves."

I stopped and rounded on him, ignoring the startled protests from a few people that suddenly had to change direction to avoid bumping into us.

"Be honest with me, Edward," I said, trying to keep from seething too openly. "Is your concern really just for the family's safety, or is there something else going on here?"

We were interrupted before he could respond .

"Edythe!"

I couldn't help smiling when I heard that voice, calling across the din of students thronging the hallway. By contrast, my brother's face turned dark and he growled under his breath.

Be nice, I warned him sternly. And if you do that, be quiet.

Beau wove swiftly through the crowd to reach us, throwing apologies over his shoulder almost as an afterthought as he bumped people or stepped on their toes. I didn't have to be able to read him to know that he was determined to speak to me – it was written all over his face.

"Hi," he said breathlessly as he finally came to stand in front of me, an adorable grin on his face.

"Good morning, Beau."

"Morning," Edward added, speaking in that low, smooth voice he had perfected to be unsettling without being overtly threatening.

Beau blinked and looked at him as if he hadn't even registered he was there, and I watched him shrink slightly as Edward's subtly menacing air began to affect him. "Oh, um... hey, Edward."

Oh, would you just leave him alone! He hasn't done anything wrong.

My brother pointedly ignored me.

Beau turned back to me; a nervousness had entered his eyes that I hated, because I knew that I didn't ever want him to feel that way around me. I tried to make my expression inviting and calming, hoping it would help him settle, but it didn't seem to work.

His words tumbled out in a rush, as if he were afraid of losing his nerve if he didn't get them out quickly. "So, um, are you free Friday after school? Because I was thinking we could go over to Port Angeles and catch a movie, maybe get dinner after? I already asked my dad, and he's good to drive us, so I was thinking we could just go straight from here, unless you wanted to go home and change, if you even want to go, that is..." He trailed off, losing steam.

I smiled, hoping to put him more at ease, but I couldn't be sure if it worked; his heart rate kicked up, which could mean he was scared, yet I'd observed the same reaction almost every time I smiled at him. I was pretty sure that it was attraction that had set his pulse racing.

"Of course, Beau, I'd love to go out with you. And I think we should go straight from school." Not least because if I went home first, my siblings probably wouldn't let me leave. "That way we have more time, right?"

His grin was coming back, the worried look gradually fading. "That was my plan. Awesome, well, I guess I'll see you then?"

"Oh, I'm sure we'll see each other around before that," I teased. "It is only Wednesday."

He laughed, only a little, but it felt like a victory. "Yeah, you're right. Okay, see you when I see you then." He glanced at my brother, wary again. "Bye, Edward."

"Goodbye, Beaufort." The way Edward said his full name was still outwardly polite, but it had a bite to it – just the hint of a sneer. I didn't like that at all, especially because it threw Beau off kilter again, and he walked away with his shoulders starting to slump.

I rounded on Edward once again as soon as he was out of earshot, spewing mental expletives at him and glaring as fiercely as I felt I could get away with, given the number of humans around us. He was unrepentant, looking down at me with that haughty, holier-than-thou expression that he had unfortunately perfected sometime in the mid-20s.

"That was completely uncalled for," I snapped. "You have no reason to be so vile to him, what did he ever do to you?"

"He knows," Edward replied bluntly, his temper controlled but a grim air now settling around him.

His words pulled me up short. "What?"

"He knows what we are," Edward clarified. "I'm not sure how he figured it out, but it was all over his mind just now. He's asked you to go out with him because he wants to talk to you about it."

For the first time in nearly ninety years, my mind was genuinely blank. I couldn't even begin to work out where or when he could possibly have discovered the truth, to work out whether he knew or only suspected, or to formulate any kind of plan about what I was going to do next. The warning bell rang, sending the students still milling around us into a flurry of activity as they rushed to get to class before attendance. I turned and joined the flow, keeping my steps just the right level of hurried even as my instincts told me to run. I didn't especially care what my brother was doing, but he kept pace with me easily.

"Where are you going?" he demanded.

"To class," I replied bluntly. "You should go too or you'll be late, and yours is in the other direction, remember?"

"You really think class is the place to be right now?" he thundered quietly; we were outside and the other students were further away, but there was always the chance of being overheard. "We need to get the others, we need to talk about this and decide what to do."

My brain was starting to work again, and I knew for certain that the last thing I wanted to do right now was get into yet another argument with my siblings. "Later, Edward."

"No, now," he insisted, catching my arm and yanking me to a standstill. "This is important, Edythe."

I went from numb to furious so fast it would have made Jasper's head spin.

"Is it?" I snapped, pulling out of his grasp roughly. "Is it absolutely vital that we interrupt our entire family's day just so that you can all berate me for something I can't control? Are you really so eager to pick apart all the ways I have somehow gone wrong, even though I have done everything you've asked of me?"

"Edythe..." Edward tried to speak, but I held a hand up to stop him. My anger had deflated just as fast as it had come, leaving me feeling oddly tired.

"I'm done, Edward. I did it all right. I stayed away. I kept my distance. Yes, I bent some of the rules, but I never broke them. Lord knows, none of you would let me. And he still somehow found out the truth. So I give up."

"Give up?" he repeated incredulously. "What does that mean?"

I looked him square in the face, daring him to defy me as a decision finally clicked into place in my head. "It means I'm going on that date with Beau. I'm going to find out exactly what he knows, and then I am going to decide whether or not to tell him that he's right. It means I'm going to stop letting my actions be guided by your fear of the consequences. It means that from here on out, the only people who have any say in my relationship with Beau are me and him."

I turned and marched away before he could respond, once again moving just shy of too fast for public view. I was honestly a little startled that he didn't follow me, yet I made it to English without further incident. I was late, but Ms Mason's reprimand barely registered; something in my terse apology must have warded her off further argument, and she didn't call on me all class. Which was probably a good thing, because for once there was so much else going through my head that I hardly had any attention left for the lesson.

I still couldn't begin to imagine what would happen next. I had no idea what Beau was going to tell me, or what I would say to him in return. But I could picture very well the adorably nervous look that would be on his face. I could remember the hope in his eyes when he asked if he could kiss me, and wondered if I would see it again as he asked me to be honest about what I was. Would I be any more able to withstand it then as I had been that night so many weeks ago?

My lack of a clear answer to that question should have been more concerning, yet I found I was rapidly becoming overwhelmed with the simple joy of the prospect of seeing him, of really being with him, once again. I wasn't so naive as to not realise there was a very real chance that Friday would be the end of everything; all the more reason to carve out whatever happy time I could before that happened.

No matter the outcome, this was certainly going to be one of history's strangest second dates.