Chapter 12 – The Second Fall

The water cascading down the falls makes a constant rush of bubbles among the stones as I sit cross legged on the bottom of Rosalie's pool. My hair floats around my head, wafting in the current just like the water weeds that flourish on the sunny side of the pool, and I follow the quick, darting movements of a tiny fish flitting among it. Vampire eyesight and not needing to breathe has really opened up the possibilities for exploring the underwater world, and I've been sitting on the bottom of the pool and contemplating life for the last several hours.

Contemplating life…really just thinking about Rosalie.

Even underwater I frown. Since the day we kissed in the barn, everything between us has felt impossible. It was one thing to live with unrequited love when she didn't know about it, but it turns out it's an entirely different story after laying myself bare to her.

I love you. I want you.

I know that she knows. And worse, I know that she feels something too and she's fighting it. I could even live with that if Rosalie was easy within herself – I meant it when I said I would love her in whatever way she wanted. But there's precious little ease between us now, and the lack of it feels like a growing hole inside me.

Rolling over in the water I wonder if the house is clear yet. Esme has been putting off her charity committee meetings for quite some time, but her excuses were wearing thin and manners dictated that she took her turn hosting. While I can be near humans now without catastrophe being inevitable, I also don't officially exist as part of the family. Rather than trying to explain my presence and chance any loss of control, it seemed easier for me to just spend the time outside.

I don't mind. Esme's charity efforts are admirable and I've been doing my own knitting to contribute, but women's committees have never been something I enjoyed all that much. Much more fun to be exploring the river from deep under the water.

With that in mind I move through the water, letting the current guide me out of the deep pool and into the shallower channel that flows through the forest. The water muffles the onslaught of sound and scent that I usually live with, and gliding along the riverbed watching out for fish and insects and river snakes is so relaxing that I lose track of time. The river meanders through the forest, and I don't stop to think about how far I'm actually travelling. I amuse myself catching fish in my bare hands and then letting the slippery things go, filtered sunlight shining dully on their scales as they dart away. I see a river snake vanish into a hole in the side of the bank, and then laugh silently to myself as what first appears to be a rock rises up from the riverbed and swims rapidly away. It's a turtle, and I follow his funny little paddling feet and long neck as he scrambles for the bank and wonder what he's chasing. Then I round a bend and feel something hit the water above me and I look up just in time to see a dog splashing into the river in pursuit of a stick. His legs are churning frantically, and I laugh and swim up to meet him.

I forget what I am now.

The dog's attention turns from the stick to me as I breach the surface, and his cheerful demeanour changes almost instantly. Even wet, his fur bristles and his lips curl back in a snarl.

"Oh, good boy!" I reach towards him. "Come on old man, it's all right…"

He lunges at my hand, snapping his jaws on my fingers and then howling as his teeth slide harmlessly across my skin. I snatch my hand back automatically, sending him tumbling backwards with a splash, but I don't even notice because of course this nice brown dog isn't throwing his own stick to chase. His person is. A man, maybe around my own age, standing on the bank with a basket and fishing pole on the ground beside him and staring at me in wide eyed horror. Our eyes meet across the river, and he starts to scream.

He doesn't scream for long.

The dog attacks me as I attack the man, but I barely notice. Not when the blood is flowing fast and hot and tasting so damn good I can't think of anything else. It's only when it's over, when I'm sitting back on my heels on the riverbank staring down at another dead body, that I notice the dog again. He's feet away now, growling and whining in turn, obviously torn between his desire to protect his master and his fear of me.

"I'm sorry," I say to him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

But the dog growls again, every hair on his body standing on end, and I know my words don't mean anything.

There's nothing I can do. The man is dead, and looking at him I don't think there's any way of staging a convincing death scene that won't raise more questions than it answers. He's clearly been savaged, and I quail inwardly at the thought of his family seeing him with bones broken and throat torn out. He only went out fishing…

Just like you did.

With a muttered oath, I gather up the body and the possessions he had with him and move back towards the water. The dog barks and follows me, and I stop in the shallows and look back at him. He can't follow me.

"Go home!" I shout, and hating myself more than I ever have I stoop down and throw a stone towards him, judged precisely to clatter down in front of his nose without striking him. He retreats, still barking hysterically, but as soon as I turn away he darts forward again.

"No! Go on, home!" I shout again, but he won't leave. Barking and growling as he inches closer it's only when I drop the man's body into the water and lunge towards him, snarling with all the terrifying ferocity of a vampire, that he yelps and bolts. Without waiting for him to return I seize the shirt of the dead man in one hand and his basket and fishing rod in the other and turn for home.

I take the man back the way I came, through the river. The water will stop the dog following, and it washes away the bloody traces of what I've done so that by the time I emerge from the river near home the man is pale and bloodless. But nothing can disguise the gaping wound that bisects his neck, exposing the sinews and even his bones at the deepest point.

The family meet me on the porch. I'm terrified to meet Rosalie's eyes, and my heart drops as I see her look at me and then step abruptly backwards into the shadow of the doorway.

"I'm sorry," I say, before anyone can utter a word. "I did it again, and…I'm sorry! He was just fishing, that's all, and he had a dog and it…do all animals hate us? I surprised him, but he didn't have to…I'm sorry. I don't know what to do. I thought I was getting better at control, but I guess not…"

"It's all right Eleanor. We know you're trying your best." Carlisle steps down and examines the body.

"What can we do with him?" I ask. "He can't just disappear out fishing!"

"I think he might have to," Carlisle says. "These wounds would be difficult to conceal or disguise. If the dog was able to lead searchers to where it happened the body would be discovered very quickly, and the lack of blood would make it look quite unnatural. I would always rather find a way to see the body is returned to the family, but here…I'm just not sure." He looks over at the others. "Can any of you see a different way?"

"I'm afraid not," Edward says, and Rosalie and Esme also shake their heads.

"We'll just have to bury him ourselves," Esme says. "Somewhere he won't be found. You run and get yourself together Ellie darling, and then we'll all do it together."

It's only then that I realise that I'm still wearing a dripping camisole and bloomers and not much else – I'd left my pants and shirt back by the waterfall so they wouldn't get in the way while I was swimming. I let Carlisle take the body from my arms and bolt back into the house to dress.

We take him deep into the forest to bury him. It's a lonely grave, and once it's done I hesitate by the smoothed over mound. "It's unconsecrated ground…seems a bit rough that he suffers for my sin."

"I prayed over him," Carlisle says. "It's the best we can do, and I'm sure God will take everything into account."

"Well, you're the pastor's son. I suppose I'll have to take your word for it." I fall into step beside him as we head for home. "The other thing that I was wondering about, his dog…do all dogs react to us like that? He was so afraid of me! And I've always loved dogs."

"It really depends. Animals can be very sensitive, and they know we're not quite human. Wild animals recognise us as the predators that we are, and although domesticated animals have had a lot of those instincts bred out of them they still tend to react warily."

"So I guess I'm not getting a puppy for my birthday." The lightness I was striving for falls flat.

"Maybe one day. I think it would be possible, the right animal raised by us from very young – perhaps we could try," Esme says. "I grew up with dogs and cats and I do miss that sometimes." She smiles at me sympathetically.

When we reach home I let the others go ahead of me into the house while I drift over to the barn. The stretched deer hide is well and truly dried, so I unstring it from the frame and pick up the hide scraper I'd found in the barn and sharpened. I drag the fleshing beam outside and lay the skin over it and go to work, scraping all the hair off the stiffened hide. I work at a human pace, easily slipping into the rhythm taught to me by my Poppa during so many hours spent working together. Removing all the hair, washing the hide, beginning to work the oily brain mixture through the toughened dried skin. The familiarity of the chore, along with the scent of harness and hay from the barn at my back, reminds me achingly of who I used to be. Who I want to believe I still am, despite the horrors that I have wrought today.

Will it ever get easier?

The back door opens and Rosalie appears. I can't even look at her as she walks across the yard towards me. All I can see is the way she had stepped back in revulsion as she saw me carrying a mutilated corpse earlier in the day, and I'm awash with shame. She's always so controlled…how can she ever accept me for being so much less?

"I was going to talk to you, but that smells utterly disgusting."

It's the first time she's initiated conversation in days. I risk a glance up at her, and feel some of the tension drain out of me when I see her regarding me with interest rather than judgement.

"More city folk criticising some good honest country work," I say with a grin. "I recall Edward being similarly horrified when I started this project. But it's going to work up a treat." The hide flexes a little more under my fingers as I massage the mixture in, and I have to admit that Rosalie's right that it's not exactly fragrant.

"What will you do with it?"

"I'm not sure yet. But there's still a bit of work to it, so I'll figure it out." I carefully arrange the hide in a tub, pouring on some extra brain mixture and then fitting on the lid. "It has to soak for a while. I'm going to go and wash this off."

Rosalie follows me into the barn and watches silently as I sluice water over my arms, scrubbing at the stinking mixture smeared over my skin with the same strong soap she uses for cleaning car grease. It does the job, and when everything's clean I dry myself off and then turn and face her.

"You've been avoiding me." She breaks the silence.

"Me?! I'm not avoiding you," I say. "You've been as jumpy as a cat all week. So I was giving you space, waiting for you to be ready for us to go on being friends like we were before. Or…whatever."

"Friends," Rosalie repeats. Her eyes are glittering with frustration. "You say that like it's possible!"

I shrug. "Of course it's possible."

"It's not enough though!" Rosalie's voice is shaking with pent up emotion. "I don't even know what more there is, but I know that being friends isn't ever going to be enough! Not when I look at you and feel…this. I've tried to ignore it, I've tried to…oh, Eleanor, I can't. I don't want to."

She steps closer, and her moonshine whiskey eyes soften with a tenderness I've never seen before as she looks at me. I don't move as she reaches up and strokes her fingertips down the side of my face. "I don't know how to be with you. I don't know what we are together, or how being together works. I just know that it has to, because being your friend can't be enough…not when we could have so much more."

And she cups my face in her hands and draws it down close enough so she can kiss me. Slow and soft and sweet, a question on her lips that I answer in the only way I can.

For a long time we stand there, wrapped around each other and lost in the wonder of what might be. What we could be. I kiss her lips and face and hair, tighten my arms around her as she buries her face in my neck and shivers, and it's like the whole world has shifted to make perfect sense. This is perfect. This is where I'm meant to be, how I'm meant to be, who I'm meant to be with… Mine.

"I love you," I breathe against her mouth. "Since the first moment I laid eyes on you...angel-girl, you are everything I could ever want."

I kiss her again, feeling her respond as she rises on to her tiptoes and her body moulds against mine. It's everything I've ever dreamed of and more, all those vague and unformed wishes and fantasies suddenly made real with this beautiful girl in my arms who is kissing me back with equal passion. Desire flows through me like electricity, every touch from Rosalie a spark that's making me burn.

I don't want to stop. Wrapped around her the world narrows down to nothing but the touch and taste and feel of her, and it is more than enough. But I need to be sure, and I say her name again and look down at her, bending low enough to touch my forehead to hers. "All right?"

Rosalie exhales. Yes." She traces a fingertip across my lower lip, and laughs when I bite at it. "Are you?"

I half laugh and half groan, pulling her even more tightly against me. "Sweet hell, angel-girl, this is like all my dreams come true."

"Even though I'm the way I am?" Rosalie looks suddenly tense. "I want to be with you Eleanor, I do. I want this more than I've ever wanted anything – but I'm all too well aware of my faults and limitations. I might love you, but that doesn't mean I'm going to magically become everything you want, without all the uncertainties and bitterness that plagues me."

I might love you…

"Rosalie, you are what I want," I say simply. "You, and everything you are and everything that comes with you. We'll figure it all out - together."

She smiles, and I think I've never seen anything so beautiful.

"I'm so glad I found you," she whispers. "I didn't want this vampire life, I've hated and resented it from the moment I opened my eyes, but this feels like being given another chance."

And she kisses me again, and I willingly give myself over to her.

I have no idea how long it's been when I hear Edward whistling a classical concerto as he approaches the barn. Rosalie tenses up and I loosen my grip on her, half expecting her to tear herself free and be halfway across the barn by the time he hits the door, but much to my surprise she laces her fingers tightly through mine and turns to face him.

"Sorry to disturb you," Edward says with some embarrassment. "But I thought you should know that there are people out there combing the woods for the boy. There are at least a couple of dogs too, and since our scent is all over the forest they may well come here to enquire if any of us saw or heard anything."

"There'll be no evidence that we did," Rosalie says.

"None at all," Edward says. "Nothing will come of it. But you should be ready for someone to come here to ask, and stay out of the forest for a day or so until the searching stops."

I rub my free hand self-consciously across my face, knowing that my eyes must be glowing crimson. "I'm probably good for a bit."

"Just keep alert really, that's all I'm saying." Edward looks at me and his lip quirks up in a flash of a grin. "It seems like you might have something else to occupy yourself with."

"Oh, shut up you," Rosalie says in disgust, and I can't help laughing. Edward laughs too as he vanishes, and I squeeze Rosalie's hand.

"You should go easy on him."

"Because he so frequently goes easy on me?"

"You're both as bad as each other," I say cheerfully. "And I've got to feel some sympathy for the boy – remember that he can read minds, and what I was thinking about just before he walked in was probably something way beyond his comfort zone."

"Oh well, that…" Rosalie ducks her face for a moment, and I think if she could be she'd be blushing. "I don't suppose you're the only one."

I grin, feeling the warmth washing through me. "I guess he'll have to get used to it…as long as you're good with it? I don't want to push anything you're not comfortable with."

" I want you." Rosalie draws her breath in sharply. "Do you know, today when you came up to the house carrying that body I didn't even SEE it? All I saw was you, wearing hardly any clothes and still dripping water from the river, and I felt like I couldn't even breathe for wanting you. I knew then that being friends was never going to work." She shakes her head. "I feel so stupid when it comes to this. I've never felt like this before, and Carlisle's medical books weren't exactly forthcoming on the subject…"

I choke. "You looked it up in a book?!"

"Of course, what's wrong with that? What else was I supposed to do? I wasn't going to ask anyone!"

I can't help laughing. "I'm sorry, but it just sounds so funny! I don't know, it's not like I have anything much in the way of experience here, but I'm pretty sure I can make it up as I go along." I hug her, nuzzling my face into her hair and catching her lips in a quick kiss. "Maybe I'm just a deviant, but my imagination seems more than capable of coming up with all kind of ideas for what I want to do with you! And we've got all the time in the world to work it out."