There were too many vampires in La Bella Libra.

We worked in silence—not even to the accompaniment of music. I stood up at the bar, robotically stirring lavender honey into a pitcher of cold-brew coffee. Esme was a ghostly presence in the attic study space. Jasper played Solitaire on Edward's computer in the office. Rosalie—to everyone's dismay—was tied up with a long-winded customer at the register.

"Edward's sister? No, I met Edward's sister. She has brown hair."

"Yes," Rosalie said in a bored tone. Customer service was not her forte. "Esme is also my sister. Because people can have more than one sister. Just as I have two brothers."

As if on cue, Jasper strolled out from the back office, playing the role of Rosalie's twin once again.

"And where is Mr. Masen?"

"He's at Oxford, taking a course on how to appropriately handle ancient texts."

We figured the cover story was niche enough that people wouldn't ask too many follow-up questions. No one did, and this man was no outlier. Though, he was impressed. "Good for him. I've liked that boy since the day we met, has a good collection of records. What about that girl of his? Sick, little thing. Oh, I can never remember her name…"

"Seriously?" Rosalie did nothing to hide her judgmental tone. Going forward, Jasper would be on the register and Rose would handle the finances. "It's in the name of the shop. And—I swear to god—if you guess Libra, I'll scream."

"Ah, right. Bella. That should be easy to remember."

"Something tells me nothing is easy for you…" Rosalie muttered under her breath, just loud enough for me to hear.

"Thank you for all your help," There was a crinkle and a rustle. I cringed knowing that the man just destroyed Rosalie's expert packing job seconds after she handed him the bag. "Oh… you know what? Now that I'm thinking about it, my daughter needed the third of this series. This is the second. Can I exchange it?"

"Are you kidding me? Why don't you f—?"

Jasper de-escalated the situation before Rosalie could finish that threat. "I'll start the return process, Rosie. How are you doing, Sir?"

With an audible huff, Rosalie stalked away from the register. She didn't have a great love for La Bella Libra. She spent her shifts agitated and bored. She couldn't even get lost in a book, like I did during one of our many, many lulls. Her preferred genre was non-fiction, and our non-fiction section was admittedly small—she'd gone through them in a week. When I offered her some lovely historical, slice-of-life romance novels, she explained if she couldn't learn something new while reading, she couldn't be bothered to read at all. I couldn't begin to comprehend that mindset but knew better than to argue with Rosalie.

She sauntered up the main staircase as Esme descended from the attic. She spent most of her time up there, sitting among Carlisle's texts. The first few days of Esme in the shop were filled with stories of how Carlisle came to own each book. As days turned to weeks, stories lessened in frequency as well as length. As weeks stretched into an entire month, Esme preferred to sit alone, in silence.

"Any news? "Rosalie asked her mother in a soft voice. A complete one-eighty from the tone she used with the customer. Calls from Carlisle and Edward were few and far between. We didn't know where they were or what they were doing, for divulging Aro's secrets would lead to death—either theirs or ours.

"No." Esme ran her pinky along the rim of the counter.

"Aro wouldn't risk his beloved friend." Rosalie's dark eyes flickered to me, "Nor would he risk a coveted prize."

Esme and I both knew whatever it was, Aro wouldn't send them to their death. He wanted Edward, and Alice, especially. We worried about their gentle hearts and the burdens they would bear upon their return.

"I think I'll return to the house." Esme's shifts only last two to three hours, nowadays. "I need to…um…"

The sentence trailed off there. Neither Rosalie nor I pressed her for an excuse. We merely wished her well. We stared after Esme long after she was out of our sight.

"How are you holding up?" Rosalie asked after a brief discussion on what still needed to be done around the shop.

I felt like a gutted fish. I was hollow as a drum. I drifted more listlessly than a petal in a rushing stream.

"I'm up and I'm functioning." There was little else I could say. Edward took everything inside of me with him. He always did.

"You know," Rosalie started, "One summer in the late Eighties, the three couples planned these romantic summer getaways. Carlisle had just purchased Esme a tropical island off the coast of Rio, so obviously men will be men. Emmett and Jasper immediately started scrambling for grand gestures. Emmett took me to the Maldives. We had this beautiful jungle hut, overlooking this ocean view, where we could watch humans propose to each other all summer long and…

"Anyway," she brushed her hair behind her shoulder and crossed her arms on the counter, "that left Edward. All alone. Esme and Alice both invited him on their respective trips, but he smartly declined. They all worried for his sake—even Emmett. I could only distract him with bikinis for so long. All three couples cut their trips short so we could return home to Edward. But, he wasn't even at home. We found him on tour. As a percussionist for Beck of all people. We all rushed home just for Edward to not even be there."

I blinked. I didn't even question why I had never heard this before.

"He was so pretentious about it, too. Esme asked why he didn't find a band that needed a pianist because he didn't even play drums, and his pompous response was, 'It's not that hard to keep a beat.' Look, I don't even play drums, but I wish a drummer could smack him in the face for…"

Rose realized she was getting off track again. She was just as bad as Alice. With over a century of memories, I supposed it was easy for the tracks to cross. Either that or it was difficult for her to talk about Edward specifically without violence. "Anyway, Beck was beginning to get popular, so Edward had to get out of the band. And you know Edward. For no reason, he couldn't take the easy way out and faked his own death. He set out drugs to stage an overdose on the roof of some club in LA and crammed himself into some maintenance closet."

"Jokes on him, because he hid too well. The band never found him. People just went missing in the Eighties sometimes. Beck found a new drummer, the band moved on, and Edward came home." She concluded the story with a shrug.

We were quiet for a moment.

"I guess that was supposed to cheer me up."

"Yeah." Rosalie absently scratched her head. "A poor attempt. I realized that right when I started… Sorry, I'm not very good at this sort of thing."

"It's okay."

"At least you're not human anymore. I'm even worse when there are tears involved."

An awkward silence followed as neither of us knew how to share a tender moment with the other. Fortunately, Jasper called for us. We rushed down to meet him with more fervor than necessary.

"I think we should close up the shop early today."

"What? No!" Unlike Esme, I couldn't stand to be at home without Edward. At least at La Bella Libra, I had my books to keep me company, my passion. At home, all I had was too much space.

"Pardon. What I should have said was: we're going to close up early today."

I shook my head. "It's barely two o'clock. The students usually come in at four. It wouldn't be fair to close without warning."

"They'll survive."

"I want to be a dependable business owner!" I said, prepared to run down a list of passable excuses until I wore him down.

"Ugh," Rosalie groaned, tilting her head back. "If I told you Jasper and I needed to run an errand to surprise Esme, would you drop it?"

"Esme?"

"That's right," Jasper smiled, dripping with Southern charm. "We have to take care of something Esme."

"Okay," I conceded, "If it's for Esme."

"Beautiful." Jasper rubbed his palms together. "Let's shake a leg."

I hesitated, toying with the ends of the hair. "I was hoping I could stay here."

"No," Jasper said immediately, in a tone that left no room for argument.

Indignation flared. I tried to use Jasper's trick—to think of Alice's sake. Alice had never been happier in her little charm shop. She even acquired a small group of friends—something she rarely had in high school. Apparently, the custom jewelry community of downtown Asheville was more accepting of eccentricities than the average high schooler.

Who knew?

Jasper's oppression had nothing to do with me—we both wanted to keep Alice happy and safe, right where she was. I knew that. Yet, the crystal-clear logic refused to settle. It was muddied with defiance, the desire to show him up.

Jasper felt it. "Rose, call Emmett. Tell him Bella will be joining him at the bowling alley."

"No!" I pleaded, desperately. I loved Emmett, but that bowling alley was torture. There was a full hour every day when he would play Tubthumping on a loop.

Rosalie spoke as the voice of reason. "There's no need to punish the girl. We'll close, she'll stay in the back, and do some work. End of story."

"In the back?" he confirmed, with a stern eyebrow.

I nodded once. "I'll be doing some bookkeeping. Or do you need to be here to check over my math?"

Jasper glowered. The comment was petty and unnecessary, but I stuck up my chin, anyway.

"Fine," he conceded in a low, harsh word.

Rosalie ushered Jasper out the door, throwing me one, hard look that said, screw this up, and you answer to me. She locked her eyes on mine as she—very pointedly—switched the sign to Closed.

The second they were out of view, I crushed the stapler in my bare hands. Rosalie and Jasper were so full of themselves. Rosalie with her spotless record and Jasper with his newborn vampire expertise.

I was the one who set my barriers. I chose to sequester myself in the attic during a rush. I decided to never leave myself alone in the shop. Edward only brought Esme in to help. I called upon Rosalie and Jasper for extra assistance. If I decided I didn't need them, then I didn't need them.

If I wanted to stay open, then stay open I shall.

I marched to the front door and flipped the sign back around.

As soon as the deed was done, I regretted it. I turned the sign to Closed again.

My fingers twitched. To close would be to admit defeat. I couldn't let the haughty Hale twins win. I would stay open for an hour, I compromised with myself. That would show them. Midafternoon on weekdays was always slow. No one would come in, then I would close. It would be on my own terms, and I would feel like I accomplished something. Satiate the angsty teenage monster in me as well as the bloodthirsty one.

After I flipped the sign again, I gripped the door, toying with it. My fingers sank into the wood. Cursing under my breath, I did as Edward showed me and smoothed the wood with my nails. There would be a slight curve in the edge, but it was less noticeable than four finger-shaped dents.

I thought about making a new door with a stained-glass window and perked up immediately. Making lemonade out of lemons. Jacob would be proud. Ever since he found Jasmine, he was the spokesperson for everything happens for a reason and when a door closes a window opens.

Empowered by my own positivity, I kept the sign Open and carefully shut the door. Before I could change my mind again, I ghosted back behind the counter. Several books flew open at the sudden gust of wind. Muttering another oath, I walked at a human pace to close each one. I puttered around the shop, adjusting book stacks that were slightly askew or straightening stacks until they were perfectly even.

The sign grew larger. I ignored it the best I could.

It would be fine for an hour. I would be fine. I could stay open without any extra vampires hovering over me.

I thought back to Phoenix after Edward begged me not to do anything reckless. Then, the motorcycle and the cliff diving after he asked the very same thing of me. My bullheadedness often escalated situations. If I waited for him, Edward would have known James didn't have Renee in the ballet studio. If I didn't stalk his hallucination while Edward was away, he would have come crawling back and we wouldn't have exposed ourselves to Aro.

As frustrating as it was, Edward and I brought out the best in each other. I was calm when he was frustrated, and warmth when he was icy cold. Likewise, he was mindful when I was thoughtless. We needed to be together. This defiant act was proof of that, and proof that I should close the shop. With so much of myself with him, the worst parts of myself took root. These days, my worst self wasn't isolating or reckless—it was a bloodthirsty monster that inched its way up my throat at any sign of weakness.

Just as I reached for the doorknob, someone stepped in. We both gasped in surprise and hopped out of the other's way.

It was the Austen girl. The one who previously purchased Mr. Darcy Vampyre. Her name was Amy. She'd been in the shop often, a voracious reader, like myself.

Her pulse quickened in the most alluring way. I cut off my breathing. Then, held my feet firmly into place.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Are you guys open?"

I smiled as brightly as I could with tight lips and welcomed her inside with a grand sweep of my arms.

"Thanks," she breathed. "I put one book back the other day, and I've regretted it since."

I grinned, thoughts of blood forgotten. "Oh, trust me. I know the feeling. I used to live in this tiny town with an atrocious library. The closest bookstore was an hour away. There were many books I lost to distance." I sighed dramatically.

Amy laughed. "That's how it felt before you guys showed up."

She ducked behind a bookshelf.

"Can I help you find it?" I offered.

"No, I got it. Thank you!"

She met me at the counter, smiling so brightly I couldn't help but smile back. This was what I wanted when I opened the shop. The comradery that came with meeting other book lovers. I reached out my hand, eager to see what she came back for. Edward and I read every, single book we kept in our shop, and sold our favorites.

She passed me one of my favorite Sci-Fi. It took Edward a lot of convincing to get me to read science fiction because they were usually brutal depictions of the world that left me heartbroken and resentful, but this was the opposite. Humanity came together to save one person. The entire experience was touching and made me feel better rather than worse. I told Amy as much. "Have you read his latest? It's way better in my opinion."

"No!" Amy's expression lit up. "I didn't realize he'd written other stuff."

I was so excited, I had to remind myself to stick to a human pace and I walked around the counter towards a table in the center of the store. "Okay, this one is on me, because I want you to read it." I held the book close to my chest before handing it over. "You have to promise not to read the blurb on the back. It gives away the best surprise."

"I promise!"

I slipped the book into Amy's bag, free of charge.

"Thank you so much! I'm going to start this the second I get home." She paused. "Your fiancé won't be mad?"

I waved a dismissive hand. "I'm an owner of this shop as much as he is."

We shared a laugh.

She stopped at the door and turned. Before she could say what was on her mind, her hand slid down the door. And she gasped from unexpected pain.

"Oh! A splinter."

The breeze from outside wafted the scent of her fresh blood in my direction. I was upon her in a second. I was able to control the monster enough to slam her body against the wall with only a fraction of my strength. Her head slammed into the corner of the doorframe, rendering her unconscious.

I ran.

Far and fast.

I was not going to drink Amy's blood.

I gulped desperate breaths down a searing throat. The monster was ravenous. It wriggled its way into the broken, missing parts of me until it took full control.

At the first siren call of human blood, I had no choice but to answer.

I happened upon a full campsite, with half a dozen hearts beating, coaxing, calling.

The first victim was apart from the others, scoping out a quiet place to take care of human needs. A fistful of dark curls, a sickening crack in the neck, and her blood was mine to devour. I drank quickly, holding her body against mine as it grew limp and still.

I stalked into the campsite. The first one who saw me was stupid enough to look concerned. Went as far as to ask if I was alright, before she quickly realized I wasn't the one she should be worried about. My hand beat hers to her throat, as she instinctively moved to protect herself.

Drained, of blood I quickly cast her body aside and continued to the next one. She had only managed a few feet of distance at her pathetically slow human speed. I caught her hand in mine, grinning as the scream died on her lips before it could even begin. I licked the blood that trickled from the corners of her mouth.

There was only one brave girl out of the group. The rest ran and scattered as she loudly snuck up on me. I gave her one feeble attempt. Allowed the axe to ricochet off my head, with a low, metallic groan. I turned to face her at a slow, human pace, relishing the way her horrified scream fueled the monster.

The final kill made it all the way to the tree line that surrounded their campsite. I leaped into the air like a lion and landed in front of her. She fell to her knees, immediately defeated, and held her wrists in the air. I enjoyed that. After all, I was a god among humans. They should offer themselves to me. I killed her with a single blow to the head.

Sucking dried blood off her fingernails, I was pulled back to myself by a familiar melody. It was immediately followed by the sound of screeching tires. One of the girls managed to escape. Her music automatically played when she started her car, so Muse accompanied her frantic escape down the mountain.

Muse was one of Edward's favorite current bands. Emmett and Jasper mocked him mercilessly for it.

I joined them, even though they were one of my favorites, too.

Edward.

The music of his name was enough to soothe the savage beast.

I let the girl escape. No one would ever believe her. They would tell her she had been mistaken. It was a bear or a cougar—a human couldn't possibly dig their teeth through someone's throat. I doubted she would recognize me without a crazed look in my eye if she ever wandered into La Bella Libra.

With a heart too heavy for even vampire strength, I surveyed the campsite. It was a group of girls around my age. Most likely college students from one of the many colleges nearby. Western Carolina, Application State, NCU's Asheville satellite. They could have even traveled from Knoxville. They worked so hard on their little campsite. The tents were large, but cozy, hammocks hung between the trees. Larger rocks were doodled over with chalk. The worn, metal picnic table had been covered with a cotton tablecloth, the color of a sunset. Mushroom-shaped battery-powered lights surrounded their space.

These girls came out here to experience the fall foliage in its peak bloom, and I had killed them.

I sat completely motionless. Allowed the horror to seep into every crevice of my body, so I could feel the weight of what I'd done for the rest of my limitless existence. In less than ten minutes, I left a bleeding, unconscious girl in the shop, killed five innocent girls, and left one lone survivor to feel the absence of her friends for the rest of her life.

A bloodcurdling scream tore through me. I wished it was powerful enough to rip me apart.