Chapter Six

Edward

"I really don't understand why I couldn't drive," I said, sitting in the passenger's seat of Esme's car on our way to Charlie's house.

"Because you drive like your father, and I'd like the soup to arrive, not be splattered in my trunk."

I smirked. "You're going the speed limit, Mom. Humans don't even do that."

"Smart ones do."

"You can run faster than this."

"Hush!" She giggled. "Just enjoy the normality. Isn't it kind of nice?"

Her mind wandered to baking a pie and gardening in the spring, to shopping for food—human food—and teaching kids. She loved the idea of a human life, of playing the part this time around.

Her thoughts even made me smile.

"I hope she'll like the soup. Oh, God, what if it isn't edible? I followed the recipe exactly."

"I'm sure it's delicious," I said. "Before you know it, you'll be supplying all the food for the bake sales."

"I am good at cake decorating."

I nodded. "You're an expert at cake decorating."

"Well . . . when you have the time, I suppose you could be an expert at anything, which reminds me. That piano has yet to be played." She glanced over at me, narrowing her eyes.

"The music hasn't spoken to me yet."

She frowned, turning down Charlie's road. "Are you that miserable here?"

"No," I said quickly, shaking my head. "No, Mom. I'm still adjusting to it all."

You don't like it here, Edward. You don't need to lie to me.

"I'm not lying," I said. "No, high school isn't my favorite thing in the world, but I'd do anything for you—even put up with annoying, hormone-raging teenagers." I smiled, reaching out for her hand. "It's been a while since I've played this part, but I don't mind doing it for you. This is your chance. I've had mine and Carlisle's had his. You wanted to live a normal life, and I have no problem doing it."

"You're a good boy—man." She chuckled softly. "Thank you."

I nodded. "You're welcome. Besides, what's more normal than having a mopey son? I'm pretty sure it's the new thing."

"Just don't start listening to that awful emo music."

"Oh, I've already loaded my iPod up." I laughed as she turned into Charlie's driveway.

Suddenly, I caught a delectable scent. Venom pooled in my mouth and my throat burned unlike ever before—even during my newborn days.

"Do you smell that?" I hissed, gripping the handle on the door tightly, breaking it apart in my hand.

"Edward? What is it?"

"God, it's . . ." I tried not to breathe in, but I couldn't help myself. "Go, please, now. Drive."

Panic filled her thoughts, but I was too distracted by the incredible smell to notice. My every instinct told me to tear out of this car and find the source—to sink my teeth into whatever being it came from.

I wanted it. Like I'd never wanted anything before.

"Stop!"

The car came to a screeching halt on the side of the road about a quarter mile from the house. Unable to explain, I busted out of the car, pushing my feet to get me as far away as quickly as I could. I ran through the forest, taking trees down in my path—uncaring as I went right through them. The scent was gone, but the memory of it continued to burn my throat in an inexplicable way.

I sunk my teeth into the first deer I came across, but it did nothing to ease my thirst.

. . . . .

Son?

I buried my head deeper into my palms as Carlisle's voice filled my mind. He was forty feet away still, waiting for me to acknowledge him.

"I was going to kill whoever it was," I said as he moved closer. "It could have been a child, and all I wanted to do was kill it."

"But you didn't," he said, easing himself onto the log next to me. "You left."

I shook my head as his thoughts expressed his pride in me. "I've never wanted human blood so badly, Carlisle. It's taking everything in me not to run back there. What . . . what's happening to me?"

From what Esme's told me, I believe you've happened upon your singer. That fact that you ran away, though . . . it's extraordinary. Unheard of, even.

"I can't do this. I can't . . . kill someone."

"Then you won't," he said, placing his hand on my shoulder.

"I will!" I roared, leaping to my feet. "I will kill whoever that is. I can't stay here."

Then we'll go. We'll put thousands of miles between you two.

Shaking my head, I paced in front of him. "No, I won't make Esme leave. This is the only thing she's ever really asked for. I can't do that to her."

You wouldn't be doing anything to me, Esme thought, coming into the dense area of the forest. "We can go," she said.

Though she tried to disguise her thoughts, the sadness of the idea of leaving lingered. She'd had so many hopes for this move. The idea of being a seemingly normal family, of interacting with humans as if she were one of them, of helping people, and of getting a few years to play the role of being an average mother to me.

She didn't need this facade for that, but she wanted it.

She wanted to show the world that though she was now a vampire, she could still be a nurturing mother.

"No." I sighed, sitting down on the damp forest floor as she joined Carlisle on the log. "We can't leave."

"But I won't let you hurt anyone," she said. "You wouldn't be able to help it."

"Well . . ." Carlisle started, pondering the idea. "You ran away, Edward. If you did that once, maybe you could . . . possibly keep resisting?"

"And if he can't?"

"We leave."

I shook my head. "I don't want to go. Maybe I could become immune to its call? Is that possible?"

Not that I've heard of, but that doesn't mean it's impossible, he thought. I've never heard of a vampire resisting their singer before, but you've already done that once.

"Do we have any idea who it could be?" he asked, looking between Esme and me.

"Well, it happened as we pulled up to Charlie's house," Esme said. "The only new person in town is . . ."

"Bella," I said. "It's the girl."

Carlisle nodded. "That seems like the most likely person, yes." Meeting my eyes, he thought, Would you be up for an experiment?

I don't own Twilight.