As always, thanks go out to all my readers, with a special shoutout going to those who commented on the last chapter: S1203, Goldielover, kouga's older woman, Kayozm, Ruiniel, Guest, catgrl, Greenshells, Izabela, and magicbustrip.

Your continued interest humbles and heartens me.

CHAPTER 17

THE START OF SOMETHING

Rosalie had left about an hour ago and all was quiet.

If Carlisle had been a living, breathing human, his palms might have been a sweaty mess right now. Guided by his foolish heart, he held his phone to his ear, and hoped to God that his weakness wouldn't cost him in the long run.

As moonlight streamed through the glass doors, combining cool light with the den's warm ambient glow, Carlisle loosened his tie, and kept on walking, pacing back and forth with a slow but restless gait.

The first ring sounded.

In the fireplace, some of the logs had begun to break apart, the flames consuming the charred pieces as sparks danced up the chimney. His gaze flitting to the wood-paneled walls, Carlisle waited for the second ring. Thinking that Bella was busy or didn't want to answer, he turned away from the fireplace and wondered if he had made a mistake.

Maybe she was upset that he hadn't gone to see her before she left, that he hadn't called until now. Or then maybe she'd had enough time to weigh his warning, deciding that it was best if he stayed away after all.

His assumptions must have been wrong, for the line suddenly clicked to life.

"Hello?"

It was her; she had answered, making him stop and close his eyes.

"Hi, who's this?" Bella asked when his silence had stretched on for too long.

Fearing she might hang up, Carlisle raked a hand through his hair and willed his vocal cords to work. "Hello, Isabella." How he had managed to sound so calm was beyond him.

Two or three seconds went by. All he could hear was music playing in the background. That and the low purring of a cat.

"Carlisle." The delight in her voice charmed him, erasing his worries and making him smile.

"Hey," was all he could think to say.

"I didn't think you'd call."

"I'm sorry. I wanted to call you… I wanted to see you. Only I…"

Great. He sounded like an idiot. He couldn't even give a proper apology. With an embarrassed shake of his head, Carlisle made for the couch and wished for the floor to open up.

"Only you what?" Scarcely had she spoken than his frustration dissipated. By the gentleness of her words, he knew there was warmth in her eyes.

"Only I wasn't sure if I should," he admitted at last. "Me reaching out to you… it's a bad idea, Bella."

She already knew why. He had explained it the other night, the laws of secrecy which governed his world. This unique and fascinating woman didn't seem to care, though, her voice low and earnest when she said, "I'm glad you called, Carlisle. I really am."

Moved by her reply, he swallowed, then cleared his tightening throat. "So how have you been? How are you feeling?"

"I feel good. Almost ready to go back to work. I'm looking forward to it, actually. Other than that, I've been settling in. My ex moved out. He was gone before I got back. Good riddance, right?"

Carlisle was relieved to hear it. That jerk, Evan, had betrayed her in the worst way. She shouldn't have to deal with him. If Bella didn't want him in her life, the man had no business hanging around. "Good riddance," he agreed, softly.

"What about you?"

"I'm doing alright," he answered. "Keeping busy with the hospital."

"Are you working the night shift?"

"No. I got off work at six. Just a quiet night at home."

"Same here. Just me and my cat. And a book," she added on a breathy laugh. "Pretty exciting, huh?"

"Actually, that sounds like my Friday nights. Minus the cat."

"That's right," Bella drawled mirthfully. "I almost forgot, we're both part of the same nerd club."

"We are." His curiosity getting the better of him, he asked what she was reading.

"Chaucer. After I finished Troilus and Criseyde, I thought I'd re-read some of his other works. I just started The Canterbury Tales."

"I like that one. It's a good choice."

"And you? Read any interesting books lately?"

"I recently started Clarissa. Though I've read it over a dozen times."

"Ah, Samuel Richardson. It's a pretty lengthy novel. I haven't read it in years, but I really enjoyed it. It's a masterpiece."

And so they talked about literature for a little while more. But then, when their discussion yielded to a brief but comfortable silence, Carlisle heard the breath she took, and knew she was readying to dive into another topic, one that must have been circling in her mind.

"About the other night," Bella started. "I wanted to thank you for being so open, for trusting me with your secret. I want you to know I haven't told anyone. I won't."

Her promise pierced his loneliness, causing a quiet stirring in his otherwise silent heart.

"I know. I trust you, Bella."

Trust.

To live in the human world, Carlisle had to lie on a daily basis, maintaining his cover story at all costs to protect both he and his family. But with Bella, it was different. Her kindness and her desire to learn and understand had leveled much of his defenses. When he was with her, he wanted to be authentic, to be the truest version of himself.

"It means a lot that you trust me." Her voice gentled even more. "I trust you, too."

His heart the lighter for it, Carlisle blinked an extended blink and was debating how to respond when Bella continued, "I have to say, meeting you has been… pretty life altering."

He could say the same thing about her. Bella didn't know it, but she had changed him. She had opened a door he had never thought he would walk through. And he didn't want to go back.

"I never imagined that there was this whole other world out there, in plain sight yet hidden from our view. It's rather mind boggling when you think about it."

"I imagine it would be."

"All those years that you've seen. All those different centuries and eras. What was it like? Your life before…"

When Bella didn't finish her sentence, he suspected that she regretted her question, thinking she shouldn't have asked.

But Carlisle didn't want her to hold back. If Bella harbored questions, he wanted her to feel comfortable enough to voice them.

"Before I was changed," he finished for her.

A full second went by. "Yeah."

"I was born in the sixteen hundreds, as you already know. In London. I was the first and only child of an Anglican pastor. My mother had been a few years younger than him. Sadly, I never got the chance to know her. Births were risky in those days. There were complications, and she died."

"I remember you spoke of her, that night you drove me home. I'm sorry you never got the chance to know her. That must have been hard."

Carlisle caught the sound of whispering fabric, like she was shifting to get in a more comfortable position. Whether Bella was on her couch or in her bed, he could only guess.

"What was your father like?"

"He was... a complicated man. I don't know if it was a result of his upbringing, or if losing my mother gouged a permanent wound in him, but my father was very strict, stern and hypercritical, especially towards me. Serving God was his life, and he made it his mission to 'battle evil'. By day, he would preach from the pulpit. At night, he and select members of his congregation hunted for monsters. Werewolves, witches, vampires."

He went on, "Religion and superstition often coalesced in those days. To the point of literal witch hunts. I was fifteen when I reluctantly joined the raids. It was a dark time, and though my human memories are rather faded, some of it haunts me still."

In his mind, he could still see them, the faces of those they had hunted and tried. Men and women, young and old. How many were innocent? He wondered, sick at heart even to this day.

His silence lasted longer than he intended, for Bella said, "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Carlisle snapped back into the present. "No, it's alright. I haven't spoken of my human life in years. And never to a human. If I'm honest, I'm… grateful for the opportunity to share with you."

"I'm all ears, then."

As he sank into the memories, Carlisle sat back against the couch, and gazed at the coffee table without really seeing it. "While my father's actions were rooted in a desire to do good, his investigative methods weren't exactly precise. To find those he deemed guilty of witchcraft and evildoing, he relied heavily on rumors. Sometimes, on nothing more than a gut feeling."

His throat bobbed. "Even after all this time, it grieves me to think of the innocent people he accused. While I did not share my father's enthusiasm for the hunt, and tended to stay on the sidelines, it shames me to admit that I was there, bearing witness to those needless executions." His chest rose and fell on a remorseful sigh. "Because I was meek and obedient, few were the times when I dared speak up. It is a guilt that I carry to this day."

There was a heavy pause. Doubtless, Bella didn't know what to say.

"Over the years, I've sometimes tried to rationalize my inaction. Thinking for yourself wasn't exactly encouraged in those days. Children were taught to obey authority, to 'honor thy father'. In my twenty-seven years of human life, I did exactly that. Despite our glaring differences, I loved my father and I yearned for his approval. Every day, I tried to be a good and dutiful son. But all the rationalizing doesn't change the fact that innocent people died."

Carlisle hung his head, his guilt unchanged.

"I don't know if this helps or not, but I won't judge you for your choices. It was a tough situation, and you were doing the best you could... So you're not really thirty-one?"

"No. But technically speaking, I'm not twenty-seven either." In fact, his physical age didn't really factor in anymore. Even if his body was frozen at twenty-seven, Carlisle was a relic and he often felt like one—not physically of course. But in his heart and in his mind? Definitely.

Returning to his story, he said, "Things changed in the last year of my human life. When advancing age prevented my father from leading the raids, he asked me to fill his shoes. I was reluctant at first. For two weeks I stalled and secretly hoped he would choose someone else. But then, after I had given it some thought, I agreed, if only to ensure that I could do things my way."

"No longer would we blindly accuse the innocent," he continued. "No longer would we kill without being absolutely certain of a person's guilt. To that end, I worked really hard to follow genuine leads and clues. And I was successful." Now he drew a breath, slow and resigned. "But my success was a double-edged sword. Ultimately it led to my demise."

"How did it happen? How did you…" Bella hesitated again.

"How did I die?"

"I'm sorry. Sometimes, I'm too nosey for my own good. I shouldn't have asked. It's just, you know more about me than I know about you."

"It's okay, Bella. Truly," Carlisle said, then started at the beginning, recounting how a string of disappearances and grizzly murders had cast a pall of terror in the parish where he had lived.

"Citizens were scared. People were going missing every week. And when bodies began turning up, completely drained of blood, I instinctively knew what we were dealing with. It took some careful digging. I must have interviewed fifty people. Because I had been taught to read and write, I was able to map and analyze the various locations. After a time, I felt rather confident that I had discovered a genuine coven of vampires, hiding in the sewers not far from my home. Regrettably, my knowledge was limited in those days. Not knowing what we were up against, I foolishly led my men down into the tunnels late one night."

Mentally, Carlisle was back there, the scene playing like a movie in his mind. "First, we heard laughter. Behind us. In front of us. To my horror, I realized we were trapped, our avenues of escape blocked from both sides. As my men and I backed toward one another for safety, holding out our torches in hopes of seeing through the gloom, something rushed past us." Carlisle narrowed his gaze and shook his head. "It was so fast, we couldn't see who or what it was. One by one, our torches were snatched from our trembling hands. Mine was the last to go. Trapped in the dark, I held my breath and waited. Then the screams started."

Perhaps he was being too frank with the details, but something told him that Bella wouldn't want him to hold back. So he didn't. There was something oddly cathartic about that, about being able to speak so openly about the traumatic end of his natural life.

"I still remember the growls, the wet sounds of ripping flesh. In the midst of all that chaos, I was grabbed and bitten, but was inexplicably tossed aside."

With these words, he ran a hand over the collar of his work shirt, directly above the crescent shaped scar on the slope where his shoulder met his neck.

"Once the creatures had killed and drained all of my friends, they took no notice of me and vanished as quickly as they had come. That's how it happened. That's how I found myself alone, my body contorting in agony as vampire venom spread throughout my tissues."

"Venom," Bella echoed in question.

"A vampire's bite is highly venomous. But depending on the severity of the bite, venom can also seal a wound", he told her. "Therefore, instead of bleeding to death, I was left writhing and burning. I knew right then and there. I knew what I was about to become."

"That must have been… I don't even know what to say."

"It was pretty awful." A sad smile pulled at his mouth before fading again. "Desperate for help or relief, I somehow dragged myself out of the sewers. But as I lay dying on the rain-soaked street, a dreadful realization came over me. My father..." Sullen words, followed by a pause. "I knew he would never understand, that he would rather think me dead than know the awful truth. Cognizant that I'd be nothing but a soulless monster in his eyes, I crawled into a nearby potato cellar, where I suffered through the rest of my transformation. For two days and nights I burned. When my heart finally gave out, and I awoke with an all-consuming thirst for human blood, I was so horrified and repelled by what I had become, I fled the city right then and there."

In the ensuing silence, Carlisle went on. "In the months that followed. I was so desperate to end my cursed existence that I tried various ways of killing myself, including starvation, drowning, and jumping off cliffs."

Bella gasped at that, faintly but loud enough for him to hear.

"Nothing worked. Mad with unbearable thirst, I was hiding in a cave when a herd of deer happened to walk by. As soon as I caught their scent, my instincts took over, and before I knew what I was doing, I had drained every last one of them."

But this part of his story was more heartening, and Carlisle found himself smiling. "As trite as it sounds, I found new life that day. To know that I could survive and feed without harming humans…" Hope and wonder now laced his words.

"And so began my strange undead life. It wasn't easy, by any means. In the first few decades, my bloodlust was such that I avoided humans at all cost. But over the course of two centuries, I slowly perfected my resistance until, one day, I felt confident enough to ease myself back into human society."

"Did you go back to London?"

"Not at first, no. Not for a very long time. I travelled rather, going from place to place. When my wanderings finally took me to Italy, I decided to study by night, becoming a nighttime patron of the arts. Shortly thereafter, I began studying medicine, a craft which, I admit, was rather primitive in those days."

"Why medicine?" Bella said. "Didn't the blood bother you?"

"It did at first. But with years and years of practice, I got used to it. I barely notice the scent anymore. As for why I chose medicine, it was something of a calling for me. I don't know if destiny is a real thing, but I feel it's what I was meant to do."

"You're amazing, you know that?" When he made no reply, mostly because he didn't know how to respond to such praise, Bella said, "Thank you for sharing all of this with me."

"We're friends, aren't we?" So here it was. His decision fully acknowledged and verbalized. Come what may, for as long as she wanted, he would stay in contact with her, cultivating and nurturing the friendship she had so bravely offered.

"Yes." There was that laughter again, the one he loved so. "Yes, we are."