Author's Note: I know I said I'd post this tomorrow, but I was just too excited to see your reactions! Happy Thanksgiving to those of you who celebrate, and happy Wednesday to those who don't ;)

- Chapter 7: Fractured -

"Hello. I'm an old friend of Edward's. Is he home?"

"I'm sorry," I said, forcing myself to be polite. "He's indisposed at the moment. I'd be happy to take your card, so he may call on you when he's available."

"Oh, that won't be necessary," the woman said softly, leaning closer toward me. She tilted her lovely chin down to peer at me over her sunglasses, and I went numb. "It's really you that I'm looking for."

Her eyes, now visible above the dark frames, were blood red.

- o - o - o -

I was not quite 13 the first time I had a brush with death.

It happened on a camping trip to Cape Flattery with my father. One morning, I climbed up to the top of the bluffs by myself, seeking a whale-watching spot on the stark cliffs that overlooked the roiling sea, when I slipped.

Time had stretched and my senses sharpened as soon as my foot went over the steep rock edge. The cliff face became an overhang some 15 feet down, and I could see I had very little time and opportunity to catch myself before I slid to the point of no return. If I fell that far, my momentum would surely carry me into open air and then the frigid waves below.

Each fraction of a second came like the flashes of a photograph, and my conscious mind shut off entirely. Instinct alone guided my movements.

In that fugue state, my hands clawed and my feet scrambled, searching for purchase—and, to my distant surprise, finding it, giving me enough of a hold to pull myself back up to safety.

It was the same innate will to live that compelled me to use all of my power to slam the door shut in the red-eyed woman's face.

This time, however, even that survival-driven surge was not enough for me to save myself.

The woman threw her arm out to stop me with speed far beyond human abilities, catching my wrist in the same instant I'd started to move.

"Ah, ah, ah!" she admonished me, baring her teeth in a grin. Her grip on my wrist was impenetrable iron and just as cold. I thought my bones would crumble to dust in her fingers.

I drew in a breath to scream, but then Nessie's childish face appeared in my mind.

It was clear to me now that this…creature would have no trouble harming anyone who came to see what was amiss. No matter what she did to me, I had to stay quiet; I would not put the others in danger.

A continuous stream of hissing speech spilled from the woman's mouth. "Oh yes, you'll come with me," she said, her wild grin widening. I could see now the crazed look in her crimson eye, the way her lips twitched and the rolling movement of her unfocused gaze. "You'll come and we'll go far away, where he'll never smell the blood."

My stomach dropped in terror at the word. What did she want me for?

She went on whispering but the words were too fast, too jumbled now for me to understand.

Suddenly, she pulled me forward by the arm to force me out of the doorway and into the drive. A sickening crunch from my shoulder filled my ears, and the pain was blinding.

An involuntary cry burst from my lungs and I had to bite down on my lip hard to strangle it. Blood immediately began to well in my mouth.

Almost simultaneously, the woman froze, dropping my wrist. I gasped but could do no more than fall to my knees in the gravel; the pain from my shoulder, now hanging at an odd angle, was too great.

She turned to face me slowly, her beautiful features twisted into something truly feral now. I flinched away from the sight, turning to the forest, where…

A sob filled my throat. "Edward," I breathed. He was there at the treeline some 50 feet away, an avenging angel in my time of need.

Just then, I felt more than saw the woman lunge at me, the gust of wind from her speed, her fingers gripping my hair to pull my head to the side, exposing my neck—

And then she was gone, and Edward was there, covering my body with his own.

I blinked, uncomprehending. Not even the space of a breath had past, not even a fraction of a second…

Edward was snarling something at the woman, who I couldn't see. The numbing tendrils of shock had dulled the agony of my dislocated joint, but it had also pulled my field of vision into a strange hyperfocus, like looking through a spyglass. I found myself staring at the sleeve of Edward's shirt, rolled up to expose the lean forearm held protectively over me.

"Lovely," I muttered drunkenly, enthralled by the way the tendons tensed and rolled.

The woman was raving now, though it came through muffled to my ears, as though I were underwater.

"You would dare…She could never…to stand in my place, to…"

Her words weren't making sense to me. Everything was tangled and mixed up.

Movement in my periphery—I looked to the forest where Edward had appeared. Jasper, along with two other men, one massive and hardened with dark hair, the other refined and pale blond. Alice appeared behind her husband, or so I assumed; my eyes wouldn't focus, but the spritely frame and perfectly coiffed bob were familiar.

"Antoinette." Edward's voice was soft but held a deadly edge, a warning. "You heard what we planned. How this will end."

I could see her then, this Antoinette. Her dark hair was wilder than ever. Her eyes rolled in their sockets, and she panted. Like a madwoman, I thought in horrified fascination. Her lips were moving, but I could not hear what she said, if anything.

Suddenly, she turned and sprinted away, a blurred streak in the direction of the river.

"Jasper, Emmett—" Edward started to say, but the burly man and Jasper were already gone, chasing after her.

And then he was beside me, hands fluttering over my face, my arm, my back, searching for more damage.

I felt myself sway, the edges of my vision blackening, and Edward gently maneuvered me til I was reclining, my back against his lap. Despite his care, the movement sent a great spasm of torment shooting out from my shoulder in all directions. I cried out, automatically cradling the elbow of my injured arm with my right hand.

"Carlisle," he growled, and the blond man appeared above me, Alice beside him.

So this was Alice and Edward's adopted father, I thought. He was beautiful, too.

"That's right, I'm Carlisle Cullen," he said soothingly, kneeling beside me. I must have spoken aloud; I felt dimly as though I ought to be embarrassed, but the emotion couldn't penetrate the thick cotton of shock and pain wrapped around my brain. "Bella, I'm going to need to touch you now, all right?"

I nodded faintly, biting my ragged lip again. Edward, who I realized now had been stroking my hair, paused his ministrations to run his thumb over the flesh with exaggerated tenderness, forcing me to release it from my teeth.

"Nessie?" he asked me, pained.

"Safe," I murmured. "With Mrs. Weber in the kitchen."

A strangled gasp of relief slipped from his lips.

"Told you," Alice said, sounding slightly sulky. "I could see that much, at least. I'll go see to them." And then she was gone.

Carlisle was gently probing above the odd angle of my shoulder joint, pushing the neckline of my blouse aside as he inched along my collarbone. I hissed as he approached the throbbing point of my injury, and he paused.

"I don't think anything's broken," he said, addressing both of us. "But I'll need to get the humeral head back in the socket." He was smiling at me sympathetically. "Edward, can you help her inside? I'd rather not do it out here."

Strong arms gathered me close to a familiarly unyielding chest, lifting me up. The adrenaline was fading now, and I was suddenly exhausted. My eyelashes fluttered against my cheek unbidden, and I sighed in contentment. "It was you," I mumbled.

"What was?" Edward asked, but I couldn't find the words to explain my protector in the castle, so I just waved my good hand in dismissal.

I felt him step up into the doorway. I could hear a far-off high-pitched squeal from the direction of the kitchen—Nessie, I assumed, greeting Alice.

"The study," Carlisle told Edward, and then we were climbing the stairs.

With a great effort, I forced my lids open to look up at my savior, my guardian. He seemed to catch the flutter of movement and gazed down at me in concern.

"Your eyes are light again," I slurred, and then I allowed the creeping darkness to drag me under.

- o - o - o -

The first thing that tickled the edges of my awareness was the sensation of being enveloped in a warm cloud.

The second was that my arm was immobile, wrapped in tightly against my ribcage.

I opened my eyes to see a shadowy ceiling with elegant crown moulding high above me.

I was in bed—or rather, a bed, since this was certainly not my room.

"Bella."

I turned my head at the sound of Edward's voice. Softly illuminated by a small lamp in the otherwise dark room, he was sitting in a chair at the edge of the bed, worry creasing his brow. I would have liked to have rubbed it away, were it not for the sling keeping me from moving my arm.

"Edward," I sighed in relief, making an attempt to wriggle my way up the pillows.

He was on his feet before I saw him move, leaning over me to stop me from sitting up. "Shh," he soothed. "You'll hurt yourself."

I stilled under his light touch on my arm—honestly, the movement had made me lightheaded.

"Carlisle gave you a mild sedative and some pain medication before he reset your shoulder," Edward said, moving his cool hand up to my forehead to brush away the errant locks of hair. "You might feel a little fuzzy."

I was coming to a little more now, my slightly blurred vision sharpening in focus. I was suddenly aware I was desperately thirsty, and I tried to swallow to ease my parched throat.

"Do you need water?" Edward asked, already reaching for a carafe on the nightstand. I nodded, and he poured me a glass.

He pulled an extra pillow behind my neck to prop me up slightly and held the glass to my lips, angling it carefully so I could take small sips.

"Thank you," I murmured when I'd had my fill. My head felt clearer already, and I looked around the unfamiliar room. "Where are we?"

"My bedroom," he said with a hint of shyness. "We thought you'd be more comfortable here."

That would make this Edward's bed, I realized. I blushed and looked down at my lap—and saw that I was in my nightgown.

My eyes widened and I sent Edward a panicked look. Had he—?

"Alice and Esme," he said hastily, following my gaze. "My mother."

I drew in a relieved breath. I wasn't sure how I'd cope with knowing Edward had seen me in a state of undress.

"Can I sit up?" I asked. "I'm not so dizzy now."

Edward's lips twitched up on one side in that particular not-quite-smile that I'd come to adore. "Let me help," he said, reaching again for my pillows to give me something to lean against. With three good arms between the two of us, we managed to get me upright.

When I was settled, I fixed him with a serious stare. He sat back in this chair, studiously avoiding my eye.

"Edward," I said firmly. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, he met my gaze.

Dozens of questions swirled around my mind, and I had no idea where to even start. "I—what—how…?"

To my horror, my vision blurred again as tears welled.

Edward clasped my free hand in both of his. "Don't worry, you're safe now," he said urgently, stroking my fingers. I got the feeling he was trying to convince himself as much as me.

"I know," I said quickly. "But how…how did you…?" I swallowed hard, squeezing my eyes shut in concentration as I tried to find the words. "You were by the trees," I began, looking at him again, "and then you were there, and that—that woman—she was…so strong—"

His fingers stilled, and I saw that expressionless mask fall across his face. "Bella," he said firmly, "I think you're a bit confused. You've had a lot of stress—"

Hot anger flamed in my chest. "I know what I saw," I snapped, glaring at him. "That woman barely tugged my wrist and it was enough to rip my arm out of joint. And you moved faster than I could even see—faster than humanly possible."

Edward considered me for a moment, gaze narrowed. "You're stubborn," he said.

I set my jaw, not breaking eye contact.

He shoved one hand through his hair in frustration, laughing breathlessly. "Oh, Bella," he groaned. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Tell me the truth," I replied, unable to keep the pleading note from my voice.

I could see Edward's resolve crumbling. He gave me a look of such pain, such desperation, that my chest spasmed in sympathy.

"Bella, I want to," he said. "But it would be dangerous for you if I told you the whole truth." He squeezed my hand lightly. "Do you trust me enough to believe that?"

"Yes." My answer was immediate—I did trust him, with no reservations.

Something about the response must have surprised him; he regarded me for a moment, eyebrows raised, before shaking his head in chagrin.

"Will you tell me what you can?" I pressed.

He took a deep breath through his nose. "Yes," he said grudgingly. "But not tonight. You need to rest."

"And you don't?" I was probing now, seeking new clues greedily.

That drew an exasperated smile. "Later."

"You promise?"

"Yes," he said with a huff of a laugh.

As the soft sound faded, Edward's unnaturally refined features took on an unnameable expression, somewhere at the convergence of tenderness and anguish. He reached to gently cup my cheek, and for a wild, heart-pounding moment I thought he would follow the gesture with a kiss. Instead, he pulled his hand back.

"Go back to sleep," he said softly. "I'll be close by."

He turned off the lamp on the bedside table, wrapping the room in comfortable darkness that pulled me quickly into a deep, dreamless slumber.

- o - o - o -

Cheerful light streamed in through the tall windows and French doors when I next awoke. For a moment, I was confused by the grand surroundings of the vast bedroom—and then it all came crashing back.

I stifled a whimper at the images that came unbidden to my mind. My close observations of Edward's small slips had not prepared me in the slightest to come face-to-face with the supernatural unmasked. The woman—no, not a woman, I thought, a demon—had made no effort to conceal her dark power, and it had upended my world.

A line from Milton bubbled up from the recesses of my brain: Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth/Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep.

Yes, I had seen them, in my dreams and in the cold light of day. I had wanted to know more about Edward's true nature, but it seemed that particular forbidden fruit came at a grave price.

I forced myself to sit up now, swinging my legs over the side of the bed experimentally. I felt a little precarious with one arm immobilized; my balance had never been spectacular, and with my left arm in the sling, I felt more off-kilter than usual. I wasn't entirely sure how I'd manage getting dressed.

Just as my feet touched the floor, there was a soft knock from the door, and it opened a crack.

"Bella?" It was Alice, her elfin features peeking through the gap. "I thought you might like some help." Her eyes sparkled with good humor.

I waved her in. "And I suppose you were just sitting at the door, waiting for me to wake up?" I asked, sending her a narrow look.

She let loose her tinkling, crystalline laugh and shot me a wink by way of reply. "Nessie's already up," she said, crossing to help me stand. "Edward asked Angela and Mrs. Weber to give you a hand with her while you recover. They brought some muffins if you want some—assuming Nessie hasn't finished them all off by now!"

A mortifyingly loud growl announced my stomach's excitement at this prospect, and Alice's nose wrinkled in amusement.

"Come on, let's get you decent," she commanded, and led me down the hall to my room to dress.

- o - o - o -

Some short while later, I descended the servants' stair into the kitchen, where I was met with a horrified gasp.

"Bella!" Angela cried as I stepped into view, pointing at my sling. "What happened to you?"

Mrs. Weber, who had been industriously scrubbing a pot in the deep sink, whirled around to look at me as well.

"Oh, you poor thing!" she said, abandoning her task to come inspect me. I rather felt like a rogue chick being rounded up by a mother hen as Mrs. Weber corralled me over to the table, pulling out a chair and guiding me to my seat. In the place across from me, Nessie gaped at my sling, wide-eyed.

"Mr. Cullen said you'd gone to bed with a headache right after they arrived," Angela said, sliding a plate in front of me with a gloriously warm blueberry muffin already split open and buttered. "He didn't say you'd hurt yourself!"

I picked off a piece of the pastry and stuffed it into my mouth—both to give myself time to think and to avoid another round of rumbles from my empty gut. Clearly, there had been no cover story concocted just yet.

"Oh, it was so silly," I said when I'd finally swallowed. "I got up to get some aspirin in the night and I tripped going down the stairs. I hurt my shoulder when I tried to catch myself. Dr. Cullen had to fix me up."

I'd have to make sure I passed on the information to Carlisle when I saw him next, I thought.

Mrs. Weber clucked, and I couldn't be sure if it was in sympathy or reproach. "Those old stairs are far too narrow and steep," she said, returning to her washing.

"Does this mean you won't able to ride bicycles with me anymore?" Nessie asked, mossy green eyes wide and pleading.

"Only for a little while," said a calming male voice from the door, making us all jump. It was Carlisle, dressed casually in a grey sweater over a shirt and tie. His kind eyes searched me over, taking in my condition.

"Miss Swan, I should like to take another look at that shoulder this morning," he said. "Find me in the library when you're finished?"

I nodded, and he smiled in return. "Ladies, excuse me," he said quietly, and then he was gone.

I finished my breakfast quickly and scurried off to the library.

The door was open when I arrived and Carlisle sat at the desk, writing in a large journal. He looked up at me with a warm smile when I hesitated in the doorway.

"Miss Swan," he said in greeting, standing up. "Come in. Would you mind closing the door behind you?"

I did as he asked, following him over to a fainting couch beside the large window facing the front yard. I sat, and he pulled a chair over to sit in front of me.

"May I?" he asked, motioning to my sling.

"Of course," I mumbled.

Like Edward and the demonic woman, his hands were cold, even through the fabric of my shirt. But he had a gentle, soothing manner that made me relax into his touch as he carefully unwrapped my arm from the confines of its sling.

"I'll need to examine the shoulder," Carlisle said, slightly apologetic. "Would you mind…?" He motioned to my blouse, and I blushed.

"Not at all," I said. He averted his gaze kindly, stepping away for a moment to place the sling on the desk as I fumbled with the buttons. I was grateful Alice had dressed me in a camisole under my shirt so I wasn't sitting in my brassiere.

Unable to extract myself from the sleeves, I cleared my throat. "Er…could you…?" I started to ask.

"Ah! Of course," Carlisle said, seeing my predicament. He returned to my side and carefully pulled both my arms out of the sleeves. "I'm just going to use my hands to feel the bones," he explained as he started to gently palpate my clavicle. "Tell me if anything hurts."

As he probed, I was surprised at how my self-consciousness faded in the face of his professional manner. His clinical detachment put me at ease, despite the inherent discomfort of sitting front of my employer's father in my underwear.

"Edw—er, Mr. Cullen said most of the books in this library were yours," I said, wanting to break the silence. "Nessie and I have made great use of them. I hope you don't mind."

Carlisle's faint smile deepened, but his eyes were still intent on my left side. "Not at all," he said, using his hands to turn me slightly so he could examine my shoulderblade. "I'm pleased they've been of use to you."

His inspection of my back complete, he released me. "No tender spots?" he confirmed, and I shook my head. "That's a good sign. No heat and minimal swelling, so you may have escaped soft tissue damage. I'll need to check your strength and range of motion to be sure though."

He ran me through a few tests, manipulating my arm and having me push and pull against his hand in various positions.

"I think you shall live," he declared finally, making me grin. He helped me back into the sleeves of my blouse. "We'll keep it immobilized for a week or two, just to be sure there's nothing lurking, and I'll give you some exercises so it doesn't get stiff. You'll be on the bicycle again in no time."

"Thank you, Dr. Cullen," I said softly as I awkwardly buttoned my blouse one-handed.

He waved a hand at me as he stepped to the desk, rooting around in a drawer. "Edward," he said in a normal speaking voice, "help Miss Swan ice her shoulder, would you?"

The door opened and Edward was there. I blinked, wide-eyed. The paneling of the door was thick; I knew it blocked noise quite effectively. So supernatural hearing must be another one of the gifts of his kind, I realized.

"Aha!" Carlisle exclaimed, extracting a cloth-covered rubber ice bag from the depths of the drawer. "Just fill that up, Edward, would you?"

I could feel Edward searching me over as he took the bag from his father, but he left on his errand without a word.

"Let's get this back on." Carlisle approached with the sling in hand. "You can take it off to sleep and bathe. But I'd like you to wear it during the day. Alice or Miss Weber can help you dress until you're a bit more mobile."

Edward appeared in the doorway again—too fast, I thought—and Carlisle gave him a smile. "Twenty minutes," he instructed, and Edward nodded. Then the good doctor disappeared, leaving the two of us alone.

"Come sit by the fire," Edward suggested, nudging the door shut behind him. He held a rubber ice bag in one hand and a steaming mug in the other, with a kitchen towel slung over one shoulder and a book under his arm.

"Yes, Nurse Cullen," I teased, and he gave me an indulgent half-smile.

He set his bounty down on a low table and helped me settle onto the sofa, covering my sling-wrapped shoulder with the towel before settling the ice pack on top.

"It might leak on your shirt," he said apologetically. I gave a one sided-shrug; I certainly wasn't going to strip down to my camisole again.

Edward fussed over the arrangement for a moment, making sure the mug of coffee and the book were within reach.

"Are you warm enough?" he asked, slightly anxious. "I could find you a blanket…"

"Edward, I'm fine. Sit down."

He hesitated, glancing at the door as though he were thinking about fleeing, but ultimately settled in the chair across from me.

"Are you going to explain now?" I asked pointedly, and he sighed heavily.

"I don't know where to start," he admitted. "There's so much you must be dying to know, but I meant what I said last night. The less I tell you, the better."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "Well, why don't I ask questions and you can decide what to answer?"

His hand raked through his hair in his now-familiar gesture of stress. "Yes, all right," he said, resigned.

"I think I can safely say that you're not…fully human," I began.

Edward snorted, a shockingly uncouth sound from his aristocratic nose. "That's not a question. But no, I'm not."

"And neither is your family? Or…?"

"Antoinette," he supplied, teeth clenched against the venom in his tone. "They're like me. But I can't tell you what we are."

I nodded; I'd guessed details on that would be thin. "She was going to take me somewhere," I said, cautiously. "She mentioned…blood, and making sure you couldn't smell it."

He winced, but made no move to interrupt me.

"Do you know why?"

Edward stared silently at his hands in his lap for a long moment, and I almost thought he wouldn't answer. Finally, he raised his chin to meet my eye. "I don't know for sure," he said slowly. "But I do have a hypothesis."

"And you can't tell me?"

He considered me for a beat, tilting his head slightly to the side. "She wants something from me." I could tell he was choosing his words very carefully. "I'm sure you noticed, she's not…her mind, it's fractured. But I believe she thinks you're an impediment to what she wants, and that if she removes you from the equation, I might…give it to her."

A thrill of terror surged over me—how could I possibly stand in the way whatever that demon wanted from Edward?

"Will she come back?" I asked, voice small.

"Not while the house is so full," he said. "But in the future…maybe."

A tremor started in my hand. The bruise on my wrist where she'd grabbed me throbbed.

Edward slipped from his chair and knelt before me so our eyes were level. He took my good hand in his, and my heart flipped in my chest. He was so close, and I could smell him—that same aroma from my dream, floral and spicy and completely enthralling—

"I won't let her harm you," he promised me, his voice deep and harsh in his sincerity. "There are…measures we can take, things that we'll do. I can't explain just yet, but I swear I'll keep you safe."

I nodded, but I couldn't shake the fear that dogged me. I tipped my head back against the back of the sofa, staring up at the ceiling as I tried to process.

Edward released my hand, but didn't return to his chair; instead, he carefully perched on the edge of the cushion by my knee.

"Bella," he said after a few moments, voice low.

I turned my focus back to him, blinking away all the swirling questions and confusion. He was staring at me intently, eyes serious.

"This week is going to be very strange."

"What a lovely change of pace," I said dryly.

Edward's lip twitched, but he ignored my comment. "Carlisle's cousins have come to America from Europe to look for a new place to settle, but they're coming here specifically to see Nessie," he began. "They have…questions, things they want to understand about her presence here."

"They're like you?"

"Yes," he replied. "But Bella, I must impress upon you: you mustn't give them any reason to suspect that you know more than you ought." He paused, golden eyes burning as they held my gaze. "Or…that you are anything more to me than Nessie's caretaker."

A spark of warmth flared in my chest, just behind my ribcage. Was I more than that to him?

"Do you understand?"

"Yes," I said softly. "I understand."

But as he stood to remove the ice bag from my injured shoulder, I felt more confused and afraid than ever. He'd left me with more questions than answers. Antoinette, whoever she was, still lurked. And clearly these visitors brought some vague threat as well.

After all that had happened, all that I'd endured, I still didn't know anything about what these strange beings actually were. I felt as though I'd fallen through the Looking Glass into an entirely new world that looked like mine, but followed none of the rules of order I'd always been able to rely upon.

If I had known what was waiting for me here at Culwoode Hall, would I still have passed through those gates that first day?

My eyes followed Edward of their own accord as he slipped out the library door, and the answer came to me unbidden, alarming in its resounding certainty:

Yes.

- o - o - o -

Author's Note: Loved seeing all your guesses about our mystery vampire! I honestly didn't realize most people would jump straight to canon characters—I didn't even think about Maria! There were a few of you that brushed up against Antoinette's origins though…anybody revising their hypothesis after this chapter?

You won't have to wait long to get your answers. I promise Bella's putting all the pieces together now. We'll get some big payoffs in the next two chapters on this mystery and quite a few others.

Next chapter, Bella meets the soon-to-be Denali clan, along with another canon character we haven't seen just yet. See you here next week!