AFTER HIS BELOVED MOTHER, Elizabeth, disappeared, Edward picked Bella up, like how a groom carried his new bride, carried her outside, to the beautiful meadow that was where their cottage was situated, fast like only he could, set her down by the pond, his arms coming about her, gathering her to him, Bella placing her left hand over the still organ that was his heart. They didn't say anything for several minutes, simply enjoyed the way the sun, so rare in this cloudy, rainy town, felt against their skin, uncaring of the way it made them sparkle and glow wherever Bella's skin came in contact with Edwards, as there was no one here to watch them, no prying eyes.
Her fingers flexed on his shirt, dug lightly into his skin through his clothes, and when she looked up at him, she saw he, too, was watching her. Unable to resist, she stretched up even as he bent down, took a soft, sweet, blood kiss, biting down gently at his lower lip, her tongue flicking out to lick at his blood, so sweet and perfect, tailor-made for her. "You know, my love," she murmured, lips yet pressed against his own, moving, softly, gently, in time with his, "there was always an invisible force separating you and the Cullens, for you did not give all of yourself to them, kept a part of yourself locked, though I began to notice this not until we returned from Chicago, entered the Cullen household for the first time after our trip, and now, after our discussion, both this one and the one you and I had last night, while we were in the bath, I am beginning to realize that part of you is much, much bigger than I first thought."
A nod, his cold, gentle fingers, sparkling like thousands of diamonds, coming up to touch her cheek, the power of him a kiss and a caress, a warm blanket wrapping about her. "My beloved mother, Elizabeth, she was joking not when she thanked you for bringing me back to life." He rubbed his finger over her lips, causing a small fire to erupt there, her blood rushing to the surface, causing her lips to turn a deep rose color. "The version of me the Cullens know, it is naught but a shell, a mask, my real self buried beneath layers of grief and longing for my beloved mother, Elizabeth, for privacy, to be somewhere where I have to hear perversions in other people's thoughts not, where I can be myself, not have to pretend or accommodate other people's expectations of me, what and how I should and should not be."
He shifted to stand behind her, pulling her back against the strong wall of his chest, his arms coming about her throat gently, fingers running up and down, following the blue map of her veins. 'At first glance—" sweet, cold kisses pressed along the length of her throat, the graze of very sharp teeth against her soft, fragile, warm skin, "what I am telling you might make me seem akin to Rosalie, but it does not, my longing for my beloved mother, Elizabeth, it was so she could kiss and hold me again, so I could have long talks with her as you and I do now, to have tea and play a piano duet with her again, not so that I could be human again, as that would be being quite ungrateful, and I am not speaking of being ungrateful to Carlisle, but to my beloved mother, Elizabeth, who has and will always know what is best for me, just as we will know what is best for our children, the first one being either Edward or Elizabeth Catherine."
She went to ask him a question, when there was faint pulses of energy on the ground. Then, as they watched, a beautiful flower, unlike anything they had ever seen before, golden, its petals akin to that of a rose, but not quite, as they were slightly bigger, shimmered like diamonds, began to grow rapidly, from a seedling to a full fledged flower, within a couple of seconds, as if someone had pressed a fast forward button. Edward hunkered down in front of the beautiful flower, this creation that seemingly came out of nowhere, though in all probability it was only divine intervention once more, carefully tore it from the ground, taking not just the beautiful flower but the roots as well, his strength and precision incredible. Though he didn't need to, as his sense of smell was a myriad times better than a human's, he brought it to his nose, inhaled. "This beautiful flower," another inhale, "its scent, it is unlike any I have ever smelled before, it smells of us, honey, lilac, lavender, and freesia."
He rose to his feet, the beautiful flower that was unlike any other yet in his hand, took Bella's left hand in his free one. "Come, mon doux ange, let us go test this beautiful flower to find out what it is, even as we test our fertility, too."
Her lips curved up, and she couldn't miss the opportunity to tease him a little, make him smile and laugh, especially after the difficult conversation they had just had. "Herbology?" She turned to face him, cupped his cheek, her eyes dancing, she was so happy, because, despite the difficult conversation they'd had, she and Edward, they were together, would be together forever, build a family of their own, and that, it was all that mattered. "Why, husband of mine, you really, truly are old-fashioned, though I did not realize how much until this very moment."
The kiss he took from her . . . it was deep, so deep, made her body light on fire, down to her core, made her ache, crave him. "Stop teasing, beautiful wife of mine, and you know what it does to me when you call me that, 'husband."
He guided her back inside, to a room opposite the kitchen, on the other side of the cottage, and the room, it was a breathtaking library . . . it seemed like it had come out of a Classic, English novel, or a fairy tale. The walls, painted a light cream color, were covered with bookshelf after bookshelf, the bookshelves themselves made of a light oak wood, that, if she knew Edward at all, was either locally sourced, or came from one of their country estates in England. The woodwork was exquisite, each bookshelf having tiny carvings of roses and heliotropes with hummingbirds. Each bookshelf had its own glass door so as to protect the books within, and the books . . . some of them were quite new, modern-looking, yet others were old, so old, they made Bella's bones and soul sigh.
Resisting the urge to run to the books right away, she decided to look at the rest of the room first.
She looked up, saw a massive, beautiful, old-fashioned chandelier hung from the ceiling, would light up the room when lit, that chandelier being surrounded by beautiful, intricate plaster work that echoed the one of the bookshelves. Then she looked around the room, saw it was quite spacious, had an area filled with furniture, akin to the one of the drawing room, complete with a setee gilded in gold, upholstered chairs, and two beautiful chaise longues that were side by side, right in front of a massive fireplace, intricate as it was beautiful, probably handcrafted. When she looked down, at the floor, she saw most of it was a dark ebony wood that was polished to a high shine, though the area where the two chaise longues were was covered by a thick, expensive-looking Persian rug that seemed so soft and luxuriant, Bella couldn't help but wonder if Edward would clear out the furniture on top of it, make love to her on it before they left for their honeymoon.
The colors of the room, they were all light, neutral colors, akin to the ones Edward, her beautiful fiance and future husband, liked to wear. The patterns of the furniture, they all matched the patterns carved into the bookshelves and ceiling, down to the tiny roses so carefully created in the fireplace. She knew she hadn't taken in every single detail of this beautiful room yet, but, unable to hold it in any longer, she turned to Edward, her beautiful fiance and future husband, who was watching her carefully. 'Do you have a specific section where all the classics, and I am not speaking of American literature, but the English one, Shakespeare, the Bronte sisters, Jane Austen, Edmund Spencer, etcetera—are located?"
Edward made a face, as if she had offended him, though she knew he was only playing with her. "What kind of Classic, English literature lover do you think me, mon amour?" He moved, fast like only he could, carried her to a specific bookshelf, the books within seeming older than the others, were all bound in leather, set her down. "What do you wish to read this evening while I work, mon doux?"
She bit her lip, trying to contain her excitement. "Sense and Sensibility."
He opened the bookshelf, handed her a book bound in light brown leather, the pages and title etched with yellow gold, and as she ran her fingers lightly over the cover, she realized that though the pages were in pristine condition, seemed brand new, this book, it was old, so old. "This is a first edition?"
A nod, and before he could speak, she kissed him, soft, honey-sweet, and deep, deep as he would allow her to, her warm tongue flicking out to take in the taste of his skin, the curve of his lower lip. "Oh, Edward, this is wonderful, how did you get hold of it, my love?"
Pressing his thumb to her jaw, he took a kiss of his own. "I purchased these during my last trip to England, but the ones that we have in one of our country houses in England, a full collection of the English literature classics with an emphasis on the romantic ones, are family heirlooms."
Bella winced, glanced at her ring and bracelet, thinking of family heirlooms, the way they were passed down from generation to generation. She knew she was probably being selfish, but . . .
Cold, gentle, familiar fingers under her chin, emerald green eyes unlike any other, their beauty inhuman, looking into her own. "Where do you go, mon coeur, what is it that you are thinking? I can hear your heart beating akin to that of a trapped bird's."
She took his hand, placed it on her cheek, leaned into his touch, Edward spreading his palm open so more of his skin was in contact with hers. "If we have a boy, do you wish me to pass on my betrothal ring—"
Bella didn't even get to finish speaking, Edward's expression horrified, before he took another kiss, this one deeper than the first. "Absolutely not, that ring, along with the jewelry I will gift you over the years, it will not come off of your body, belong to anybody else, unless we die. The only reason jewelry and family heirlooms are passed on from generation to generation is so that they can be kept within the same family, but as you and I will both live forever, there is no need to pass anything on." A kiss pressed to the top of her head. "Go sit down and read, my Bella, I will come fetch some of your blood when I need it. Do you wish me to start a fire in the great?"
A shake of her head, then, because she could never get enough of him, she stole a kiss. "No, husband of mine, it is all right."
Leaving him smiling and with his eyes glowing, she went to sit down on one of the chaise longues while he likely went to his desk, the couch that was akin to a reclining chair, soft and comfortable, opened the book, a priceless treasure Edward'd gotten on his last trip to England, began to read, being careful, so careful so as not to damage any of the old pages that looked new yet.
She was just getting to the part where Eleanor and Edward, her favorite couple of the two, exchanged words for the very first time, when Edward leaned over her, his cold, sweet, addictive, intoxicating breath brushing over her neck. "Come, mon doux ange, I need a couple of droplets of your sweet, sweet blood."
"You know, future husband of mine," she said, sitting up, closing the book even as she held her place, grabbing a fistful of his shirt with her free hand, "I do not understand one thing, what is it about men named Edward keeping their feelings bottled up?"
He didn't misunderstand, the laughter in those beautiful, inhuman eyes telling her he knew exactly what she was talking about. "This I know not, ma belle sirène, perhaps it has something to do with the way our name influences our way of being and behaving, however, one thing is certain, if I had been in Edward Ferrars's place and you and Eleanor's, I would have broken my betrothal so I could marry you, my honor undamaged, for Lucy is a vain creature, akin to Rosalie."
He took her hand, but rather than using his teeth to get the blood he needed, he pricked her finger with a needle, let several drops of her blood fall into some sort of cart, akin to the ones their classmates had used in biology class, but thankfully Bella didn't faint this time, whether that had anything to do with the fact that the part of Edward's soul that was inside her was active now, she didn't know.
She opened her mouth, about to complain, tell him he should have used his teeth to get the blood he needed, when he slid her finger into his cold mouth, swirling his tongue, cold as ice, soaked with venom, around the tiny puncture wound the needle hat created, lovingly licking at the blood that was yet oozing out and healing her injury. Oh, the pleasure, the intimacy! Heat pooled low in her body, tiny internal muscles clenching, and she moved her finger in his mouth, let it scrape against his very sharp teeth, creating another wound, letting him feed on more of her blood, blood that was tailor-made for him. "Oh, Edward," her voice came out a gurgled, pleasured moan, "how I wish we were married already so you could take me to bed, make love to me."
He withdrew her finger from his mouth, wiped it clean using his handkerchief, then pressed a kiss to the tip of it. "Soon, ma belle sirène."
Edward got back to work and Bella went back to reading, but it wasn't long, perhaps only a minute or two, before he called, "Bella, Amour, come here please, and try not to trip over your own two feet on the way."
Bella didn't look away from the book, this room, so like the library in the Dashwood Estate, making her immerse herself deeper into the world of Sense and Sensibility and 17th century England. "Can we have children, can I still get pregnant even after you change me, make me like you, a vampire?"
She could hear a smile, pure, piercing joy in his voice when he spoke. "Yes, mon coeur, you can become with child even after I change you, and there is something else I discovered which I wish to show you."
Bella was torn, wanting to go to him, but not wanting to lose her place. Since she didn't want to damage the old pages of the book, so carefully and flawlessly preserved, she decided to memorize the page number, then the paragraph number she was on, closed the book, went to join him, for once not tripping over her own feet. He took her into his arms, the black leather chair he sat on big and comfortable, settled her on his lap. "I am unsurprised at the fact that my blood composition is probably different than that of a human, it is vampiric, after all, something which we thought impossible until very recently, but, what I am surprised about, is that your blood, though human, , it is very different from normal human blood." He adjusted the machine that looked a lot similar to a microscope but was slightly different, had an ability to zoom into things even more. "Look through the microscope, ma belle reine, tell me what it is you see."
She did, blinked several times to make sure she was seeing things right, then looked again, and yes, she was seeing things right. Bella, she wasn't looking at red blood cells, their color a vivid red, nor white blood cells, tinged purple or pink because of the dye used, but an entirely new, different kind of cell, one that was emerald green, yet sometimes shifted to blue, akin to Edward's eyes. These green blood cells, they sparkled and glowed, akin to how Edward sparkled and glowed when direct sunlight hit his skin, but this, it was so much more faint, so faint, in fact, it was barely discernible, could be mistaken for something else. "Edward, my love, I understand not, what am I looking at? Could you please explain?"
Edward's body radiated excitement and joy. "I have not tested my blood cells yet, as for that I would need you to bite me, your teeth, though human, piercing through my skin, but I am almost certain I will also find these cells in my blood, though glowing and sparkling much brighter and crystalline-like. Usually, my kind sparkles when in the sun because of the crystalline properties of our cells, but, in my case and soon to be yours as well, I reckon it has as much to do with our souls as with the crystalline properties of our cells. The fact that you will remain fertile even after I change you, I reckon it has everything to do with the way we are connected, not just spiritually, the binding of our souls, but physically and molecularly as well, as evidenced by the way you have these special cells though you are yet human. As I am fertile though I am a vampire, so, too, will you remain fertile even after I change you, your body able to change to accommodate a babe in your womb, though you will not age, will be immune to disease and the ravages of time—our bonds and ties deeper than that of the flesh."
Excitement spread its wings inside her, but . . . "Birth control?" Because Bella was certain once she and Edward got married, they wouldn't want to abstain from being intimate as only husband and wife should be.
He held up the beautiful, unique flower that had bloomed out of nowhere, and she realized he must have removed thousands of tiny seeds, each of them sparkling bright as a diamond. "Fret not, ma belle sirène, as we will not have to abstain from making love after you give birth, as this flower will act as our birth control. I can make it into a tea for you or you can drink it with some of my blood."
She brought a hand to her abdomen, her palm resting over her for now, empty womb. Happy, she was so happy, she was getting everything she wanted and everything that she didn't even think to ask for, but she couldn't help fretting over the details. "Our first child, be it Edward or Elizabeth Catherine, my beautiful fiance and future husband, my heart, he or she might be different than the rest of his or her siblings." Because, irrespective of the fact that now they knew Bella could get pregnant even when she was a vampire, she and Edward, they weren't changing their plans, and Bella would have her first pregnancy is a human, thus the DNA and genetic makeup of the first babe in her womb might be different than the rest.
Edward shifted her to face him without warning, took a deep, soothing kiss. "I fretted over that for a second, too, but then I dismissed it. I reckon I was wrong when I told you that our future child's vampiric genes would kick in at some point, and he or she would stop aging. As we know thanks to my research, children that come from a union such as ours, between a human female and a male vampire, do stop aging at some point, but I now reckon that has nothing to do with vampiric genes and everything to do with vampireism advancing deep into their system, as, according to the legend, the children, they are all venomous, however, they only become so, are able to change a human, once they reach maturity. And before you ask, I reckon our future children after I change you will age and grow as our first child, be it Edward or Elizabeth Catherine, will, as they will be born, not made, and we know not what property or chemical reaction from our venom causes a human, be it an adult, teenager, or child, to stop aging once they have been turned."
Bella let out a breath of relief, then felt a huge grin spread across her face. "Alice, though, she will not know of any of my future pregnancies in advance?" Because she had to confirm, had to make certain what she already knew deep down was true and not just wishful thinking.
Edward's grin matched her own, his eyes dancing. "No, mon doux seul amour, she will not, as all of our children, utterly unique, are something she is not, for though they, too, will be vampires, immortal, they will be born, not made."
'Are we not being rude to Carlisle?" Seemingly a total change of subject, but it was not, as they were already speaking of the Cullens.
A blink, and they were no longer in the library but in their bedroom, the book that was Sense and Sensibility safely stored away, Bella laying down on their bed, Edward taking off her shoes one at a time, beginning to massage her feet, applying just the right amount of pressure. "Rude?"
His fingers, cold and gentle, familiar—glided over her skin, massaged a particularly tender, sensitive spot and she moaned. "I know you are highly independent, husband of mine, have your own money, but Carlisle, does he not pay for your schooling? When we spoke to your beloved mother, Elizabeth, right after telling Charlie news of our betrothal and she asked you if you indeed were going to change your name back to what it was when she gave birth to you in 1901, you said you could not, must not forget everything the Cullens did for you, but now . . .? It seems the reason you were reluctant to rid yourself of the surname Cullen was more of a sense of moral obligation than gratitude, something the Cullens, though Carlisle In particular, did for you."
Edward stopped massaging her feet, sat her up on the bed, shifted her so her back was pressed to his front, the warmth, warmth that came not from his body temperature, as he was ice cold, her beautiful fiance and future husband, but from his power, and strength of him a reassurance, began taking out her hair pins, setting them on the nightstand, running his fingers over her hair, massaging her scalp gently. "It would seem that way at first, that Carlisle pays for my schooling, but though the school sends the bill to his bank account, I then pay him back every last penny or pent, depending on what kind of English we are using, as paying for schooling, it is only something a parent should do, and Carlisle and Esme, they are not, nor will ever be, my parents, though they acted as such in the public eye."
Strong, gentle, cold fingers massaging her shoulders and neck, cold , honey-sweet kisses being pressed to her throat. "As for your second question," sharp teeth grazing her skin, "I realized I have nothing to be thankful for when it comes to the Cullens, no debt needing to be paid or strong emotional bonds tying us together. I was always, still am, highly independent from the Cullens, even as a newborn, when Carlisle thought I would need him the most, got my new, vampiric urges under control, learned how to act human again in naught but a couple of hours, a stark contrast to Esme, Rosalie, Emmett, Alice, and Jasper, who took years to get their urges under control, constantly needing surveillance to make sure they did not kill anyone, some of them, Jasper, still needing it to this very day. Some could argue I should be grateful to Carlisle for changing me, but that, too, depends on how you like to look at it, as it was only because of my beloved mother, Elizabeth, her ordainment, that he changed me in the first place, which was something he later regretted."
He tilted her head back, took a deep ,honey-sweet kiss, his tongue, cold as ice, soaked with venom, flicking out to take in the taste of the curve of her lower lip, lovingly lick at her blood. "When Esme said I was very different from the rest of them, she was not only speaking of the fact that I liked my privacy, that I was the only one, other than Carlisle, who had not taken a single human life, but that I had always, always been highly independent financially as well as everything else, liked to keep to myself. For example, though I went hunting with the rest of them before I met you, more often than not I ended up returning home on my own, had my head bent over a thick book, was learning something or other by the time they returned, as even then, Emmett's immature games, they irritated me."
His fingers, strong, so strong it should have scared her, but it didn't, actually made her crave him, not a normal human reaction, but Bella wasn't a normal human, effortlessly worked out the knots and kinks at her back, as she'd done for him earlier, making her relax. "Another example would be when they went to go play baseball, as though I took you to watch, it took a lot of convincing from Alice for me to want to take you, the occasions when I joined them pretty rare. When they were doing that, playing baseball, I usually preferred going for a run, to our meadow, where I would tend to ancient, very important, Evans family business that goes back generations, all the way to the Middle Ages, 1204—or, again, simply stayed at home learning something or other. Emmett', he reckons my wealth of knowledge is due to my mind reading ability, and while that is certainly helpful, the reality is that I just had a lot of free time before I met you, which, I like to think, I spent quite efficiently."
She twisted and turned to face him, crawled into his lap. "Where did you go to college, my love?"
Though she'd shifted to face him, Edward's arms came about her, continued to massage her back. "Where do you think, mon coeur?"
She thought about it for a moment, thought about everything she knew about him, along with everything she had discovered. "England?"
A nod, Edward sliding her off of his lap, but before she could ask him what was going on, what he was doing, he was gone, came back in less than a second, was carrying a jar of lotion. Not saying a word, he got back onto the bed, shifted her beautiful frock to the side so her shoulders and neck were exposed, but still kept her covered and modest, grabbed some of the lotion, began massaging her shoulders and neck. Oh, that felt lovely, Edward knowing just where to touch her, where to apply more pressure and where to apply less, made her sigh and lean into him.
A sweet, cold kiss pressed to her nape. "Perhaps, ma belle reine, I will give you a full body massage when we are at last wed. Yes, I reckon both of us will like that very much."
Another kiss, this one accompanied by the graze of teeth. "I," the answer to her question, "like to alternate between going to the University of Oxford and going to the University of Cambridge." Bella knew, from the tone of his voice when he spoke his next words, that he had closed his eyes, but there was something else in his voice, too, amazement and a yearning to learn, discover secrets. "I love the sense of age, history and tradition, of englishness you get when you walk the hallways, love, too, that unlike some of the students, I get unlimited access to the archives and records, learn so many things, so much history."
It all sounded wonderful. Bella could clearly imagine him studying, pouring over an old document or a thick book deep in the heart of the night, while everyone else, all the humans, were sleeping. She could imagine the way his hair glinted in the candlelight and his eyes, golden at the time, glowed as he took notes in that beautiful handwriting of his, because while he had no need for either of those things, candlelight or to take notes, his memory and vision perfect, even at night, Bella was certain he'd lit hundreds of beeswax candles, had his notes neatly stacked beside him. There was only one problem . . . "How did you do it, my beautiful fiance and future husband, go back and forth? I am certain universities such as Oxford and Cambridge do not change professors often, did people not become suspicious at the fact that you did not age, especially with how superstitious some of them ought to be, what with all the Legends and lore coming from England?"
He pressed his thumb to a particular spot on her left shoulder in a very specific way, a way that made her moan and want more. "If we lived in a different time, the time of Carlisle's childhood and youth, the 1640s, perhaps it would have been a problem for me to go back and forth in the way I have done, but we do not, live in quite modern times compared to the 1640s, even when I went to study for the first time in the early 1920s, and all the lore and superstitions actually work in my favor. Humans in Europe, the United Kingdom and England in particular, these days, are obsessed with performing magic and the supernatural world, being part of it—creating a cure to mortality, thus, they believe, I, too, am looking towards the same goals, and I am actually welcomed quite warmly in both Oxford and Cambridge University. Perhaps I will show you when we go to England, shopping for your honeymoon wardrobe."
He stopped massaging her shoulders momentarily to pour some more lotion into his hands, then continued with his loving, tender ministrations, massaging her ,deep and slow, and it was as if she and Edward had been together for years, decades or centuries, rather than months, Edward knowing her every pleasure point, just where and how to touch her to make her relax and feel pleasure.
She couldn't help from letting her mind wonder if this was what it would be like—Edward instinctively knowing what to do, how to touch her, too, when they made love for the very first time. She shivered at the thought, pressed herself closer to him, and, thanks to the burning, scorching heat in the room, Edward couldn't mistake her actions from cold. "This, mon doux, the way humans in England are so very obsessed with becoming part of the supernatural world, finding a cure for mortality, is why Gideon chose to live in Castle Comb along with his wife, Amelia, as he wishes not to have to move from place to place, be a nomad, akin to most of our kind, nor does he wish to move akin to how I did with the Cullens, though much less often than most of our kind, still every couple of years, but to stay in one place, be stable, for centuries upon centuries, even millennia."
His phone began to ring, meaning he'd taken it out at some point, indicating he was making a phone call, then a male voice answered, his accent very much English. "Edward, Mate, I am very happy indeed that you rang, Your Majesty. Listen, Amelia and I, we just got back from checking on your Estates as is customary and everything is as it should be, only some of the livestock, a Venison and a lamb, are missing. I know not if—"
Soft, musical, male laughter, not because Gideon was joking by calling him "Your Majesty", for he wasn't, his tone very serious, actually quite worried, Edward shifting Bella's frock further to the side, exposing more of her skin while still keeping her modest and mostly covered, applying some more lotion, beginning to massage the newly exposed area. "Calm down, Gideon, everything is well, the reason why some of the livestock are missing is because my beloved mother took them, used them to make two delicious meals."
There were several moments of stunned silence, and Bella wanted to kiss Edward while Gideon got over his shock, but she didn't want him to overhear, assume the wrong thing of Edward. Though he couldn't read her mind, he must have been thinking the same thing, her beautiful fiance and future husband, craving intimacy and pleasure, because he turned her to face him, offered her his wrist. No hesitation or delay, she bit into his wrist even as he bit gently at her throat, careful not to inject any venom with his teeth, blood, hot and sweet, so sweet, tailor-made for her, rushing into her mouth, and oh, the intimacy, the pleasure, it was incredible.
"I am assuming," Gideon said slowly, annunciating each word carefully, "you do not mean Esme, as though she is no doubt very kind, each time she attempts to act as your mother, replace her, it hurts you so much, to the point where, each time you come here, to your ancient family seat, decide to leave for one reason or another, return to the Cullens, you are very reluctant to do so."
Edward stopped feeding, pulled away from her throat, but not before making sure it was completely healed, her skin soft and smooth once more. "No, I do not mean Esme, never once did I call her mother, you know that, but my actual, real mother, Elizabeth, whom I have missed very much."
An audible intake of breath on the other side of the phone, then came the astonished words, "How, she is diseased? What do you mean 'two delicious meals?' Human food, it tastes like dirt to us."
Edward wiped Bella's mouth clean of his heart's-blood with his handkerchief, then set it on the nightstand beside her hair pins. "It is a very long, complicated story, Gideon, for now, though, just know that there are a lot of other creatures besides vampires and werewolves. Listen, I need a favor, can you come officiate my wedding ceremony in about a month, perhaps a little less, depending on circumstances?
Bella could hear a smile, affection, one not between lovers, nor between a parent and a child, but between friends, in Gideon's voice. "Of course, it would be my pleasure and honor. You know, it is about time you settled down, you were, still are in many respects, more mature than I, after all. Tell me, how old is your bride?"
Edward shifted Bella again so she was facing away from him, began massaging her shoulders and neck again, making her want to moan and snuggle up to him. "Seventeen."
Laughter on the other side of the phone, loud and unrestrained. "Stop it, Edward, be serious, I mean her real age, not the age she appears to be."
A honey-sweet, cold, butterfly kiss pressed to her nape, then another over her pulse, very sharp teeth grazing her soft, fragile skin. Oh, she leaned into the touch, silently asking for more, another kiss, and though he couldn't read her mind, he gave it to her. "I am."
Surprise in Gideon's tone. "When did you change her?"
Yet another kiss pressed to her skin even as Edward continued to massage her shoulders and neck. "I have not done so yet."
A sharp intake of breath on the other side of the phone. "Ed—"
Edward cut him off. "I know you have a lot of questions, Gideon, and my beloved mother, Elizabeth, and I will indulge your curiosity later, when we go to England after my and my bride's High School graduation, and you can meet my beautiful bride then, too."
Laughter again, though this time it was a little softer, more tamed. "Edward, you still are doing that, going to High School, taking a break for a couple of years, perhaps going to University, then going to High School again? I understand not, why would you do that when you are so smart, I reckon it is only a matter of time before people at Oxford or Cambridge University start calling you 'Professor Masen', like spending so much time in the archives or British Library when you are here. When can we expect you, then?"
Edward pressed his thumb to a particularly sensitive spot on her right shoulder in a very specific way, and Bella had to place her hand over her mouth, bite her lip, to keep herself from moaning from pleasure. "In around a week."
"All right, see you then, and say hello to your bride for me, I very much look forward to meeting her, seeing your beloved mother, Elizabeth, again."