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The Newborn
By : belladonnacullen
Category: Twilight Series > Het
Views: 3452 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or make any money from this story.
Chapter List
- 13
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Rosalie cowered in the back seat of the car with Esme. Carlisle and I sat up front. We drove silently out of the city. The tumult of the thoughts of those around me was overwhelming. I watched and listened to the murders of Rosalie's assailants repeated over and over in her disjointed, newborn thought pattern. I heard Esme's concern, not only for the girl, but for Carlisle and I as well. And Carlisle was searching his brain for a geographical destination, for a solution to his family's turmoil, and for his own faith. I heard him vow to himself not to turn another human again. He also prayed that I would stay.
I felt deflated. We'd been so close to leaving. We'd almost made it out of Rochester without the girl. Carlisle was a scientist at heart. He should have known that just because creating two vampires had turned out well, it didn't mean that another could be added to our number just as easily. Rosalie Hale despised our family, and now she was going to live eternally, and quite possibly, with us.
Rosalie's mind skipped quickly from thought to thought as her body shifted restlessly in the back seat. It registered the smell of the cold night air and the smell of the leather interior, I saw visions of men's bulging, unseeing eyes, I heard how Esme made her comfortable and welcome, and then came thoughts of me. In her eyes I was hard, unfeeling and cruel.
Suddenly I wanted out of the vehicle. I'd catch up with them wherever we were headed.
"Carlisle, tell me where you're going and I can meet you there."
At the sound of my voice, Rosalie roared unintelligibly in the back seat. It was as if everything I did drove her mad.
"I don't have a destination in mind, son. Perhaps you should stay in the vehicle if you plan on accompanying us."
This seemed akin to madness; four vampires driving aimlessly to escape the implications of a killing spree. And two of those vampires were only a hair's breadth away from fighting each other.
"Perhaps we should keep to the mountains, Carlisle? It's still cold, so there won't be many humans about. We may be able to travel during the day," Esme offered.
"Wouldn't it be easier to travel on foot?" I asked.
"Like animals?" Rose whined.
I didn't see how she had much of a say in the matter. She'd been with us for eight days, and seven were spent enacting her revenge. She'd occupied her time by despising me for the other twenty-four hours we'd all been together.
"No, Rosalie, like vampires," I snarled.
"Oh god, this is hell," she thought to herself.
I could certainly empathize with her thoughts. I'd definitely had moments when I felt confined to hell on earth. Yet it had nothing to do with those I'd been destined to share hell with. I loved my family. But it had been so different when I had been turned. I knew Carlisle's thoughts from the moment my vampire awareness had broken over me. I could hear that I was special in his eyes, and that he felt great companionship and kinship for me. His kindness and patience were evident with every word and in every thought. His feelings for me had been my only solace as I wandered the world with a fire for blood in my throat and emotions and thoughts ranging through my head that I could scarcely control.
While Esme couldn't hear Carlisle's thoughts, she always had his heart. There wasn't a female alive that was more loved. There was never a question why he had turned her. But Rosalie detested us, and Carlisle's reasoning for changing her was as enigmatic to her as it was to me.
I still wasn't sure what had moved Carlisle to change Rosalie. Perhaps it was pity. Could it have been her beauty? I'd felt a glimmer of that in his thoughts the day she was turned. Did he see something in her, some hidden talent? If he did, why not share it with me? Or was it a decision made in haste? That seemed unlikely. Perhaps Carlisle had seen something of Esme in Rosalie when she brought that young boy to the hospital on Carlisle's shift. That made more sense. I thought of the way Esme had prepared dresses and shoes and jewelry for Rosalie's use, how she had adorned the spare room in flowers and lace. Yes, I suppose Rosalie was intended as a female companion for Esme.
I sighed. If this was something that Esme wanted I should be kind enough to honor my... what was Esme to me? We'd always called her my sister. But somehow over the years I'd began to think of her as... a mother. Her role was evident in the way my disappearance hurt her physically, the way she accepted me back without reserve, the way she punished me by taking the door from my room, and the way she loved me. It was a love so boundless and pure, it was unquestionably a mother's love. Yes, I would certainly try to make this tolerable for Esme.
At any rate, I had no choice. While I may have begun to regard Esme as a mother, and I'd long viewed Carlisle as a father, this was no human family. We might play one for the neighbors and townspeople, but underneath we were a coven of vampires. Carlisle was the head of our coven. If he chose another for us, that was his prerogative. I should take the decision in stride or leave. I knew I wouldn't leave. I didn't trust myself to leave, and I would never hurt my... parents like that again.
"Edward, I believe we each have possessions we would like to take with us. Without a destination in mind, we don't know when we would be able to send for them. Rosalie would prefer not to travel on foot. We'll take the car." That was that. Carlisle was the head of this coven, this family, and he was my parent, I suppose. I would listen to my father and tolerate this for my mother.
*
It was a cold spring. We made our way through the Appalachians on winding mountain roads that were still largely covered with snow. We stopped often so Rose could get out and feed. A newborn's thirst is nearly unquenchable, and animals were hardly satisfying; they were an acquired taste. Rose refused to let any of us accompany her. She was ashamed and disgusted by her instincts and didn't want any of us to bare witness to her kill.
The first time we stopped so that Rose could feed, we followed her at a distance despite her wishes. We had no intention of watching her, but wanted to remain close enough to subdue her if necessary. She quickly doubled back on us.
"You don't trust me?" she snarled.
"Rose, we know how difficult it can be to restrain yourself when you're so new," Carlisle reasoned in a gentle tone.
"Because of Edward?" she spat.
"Edward and I have both had our slip-ups." Esme replied softly. Esme had two or three human accidents on our way to Denali after she was changed, but she preferred not to speak of it. I was surprised to hear her bring it up. Obviously, she really wanted this girl. I sighed in resignation.
"Carlisle, Esme," I started, "Rosalie has given us no reason to believe that she can't control herself. She was able to kill seven humans and leave them intact. It's more than I could do, even now. If she would like to feed alone, I see no reason we shouldn't grant her that request."
Rosalie was shocked, Carlisle seemed confused by my kindness, and Esme smiled back at me warmly.
I tried my best to honor Rosalie's wishes and leave her to her own thoughts when she returned from the hunt. But Rosalie glowered at me as she tramped back toward the car.
"Did you like what you saw?" she muttered as she stalked past me to climb into the backseat.
"Rosalie, I promise you I didn't..."
"Save it, Edward."
I certainly didn't like what I would see anytime I caught a glimmer of Rosalie's kill. Her red eyes reflected nothing but pain as she desperately tried to remove all traces of blood from her face, hands and clothing. Many times though, she would get overwhelmed with its scent, and lick the blood away. This left her enraged, and she'd often knock down a tree, or kick the carcass in anger. I'd never struggled after drinking the blood of animals as Rosalie did. I'd never wished for death instead of this absence of death. But I could never find a way to console Rosalie, and after countless unendurable hours together in the car, I didn't care to try.
*
The spring wore on cloudy and wet and we were able to pass through the mountains easily, traveling by day and night. These were hard times for the humans in the area. Indeed, humans the world over, were suffering. But these mountain towns hidden in the eastern hills seemed to suffer more than most. Many villages were deserted, businesses were boarded up, and houses were left completely abandoned, waiting to be reclaimed by the surrounding forest. We used more than a few of these dwellings as temporary outposts as we searched for another place in the world for our growing family.
Because of Rosalie, we were limited in our options. Rosalie desperately wanted to be admired and desired by as many people as possible. However, she was utterly embarrassed by what she had become, and didn't want a human to lay eyes on her until her own eyes had changed to the golden amber of the rest of the family.
This kept our family isolated in tiny mountain outposts for that first year of Rosalie's vampire existence. It was a very different way of life than what I'd become comfortable with. Certainly, as vampires, we were equipped to live in nature. We didn't require dwellings, human comforts, or even clothing for that matter. But the only time in my vampire life I had lived a nomadic existence had been my years abroad. Traveling through the deserted mountains left me at odds with myself, and I felt bitter and remorseful more than I cared to.
Each of us dealt with the isolation differently. Esme would actually take the time to fix up each little dwelling we passed through. After our temporary home was in order, she would see to it that our new neighbors were cared for as well. It hurt her to see the humans around us suffer for want of food or clothes. The humans that we temporarily dwelt near would often wake to yards of cloth, sacks of grain, and bushels of vegetables left at their doorstep.
Carlisle took the time to inspect the local flora with a botanical guide in hand, searching for native medicinal plants. He'd bring them back home, and break them down with a mortar and pestle and then with solvents to isolate different constituents. Then he would spend hours peering at the resulting liquids and lumps under a microscope that he'd brought along with him in the car.
I'd been studying Greek philosophy, learning it in its original Ionic dialect, so I brought this material along for the journey. It was my only diversion for much of the time. There was little in the way of literature left behind in the abandoned homes we habited. I could often find an old Farmer's Almanac, a forgotten bible, or well-worn children's books. None of these escaped my purview. I had time on my hands.
Rose left for long spans of time. We each imagined she was hunting to sate her thirst, and I did the best I could to stay out of her thoughts and give her the privacy she wished. This way of life must have been the worst for her, because I knew how much she desired to a part of society. But it was her vanity that kept us all sequestered in the wilderness. Any mention of settling near a city or a town would send her back out into the woods and Esme would grow despondent with fear that she wouldn't return.
*
Our family had been on the road for the better part of a year. I measured the time before we could return to a more humane existence by the shade of Rosalie's eyes. They were a dull peach these days and I estimated we might find a place near a city within a month. I'd heard enough of Carlisle's thoughts to gather that he'd been applying to hospitals in the area. I assumed that with his resume, he would have his pick of positions. Physicians had largely deserted the mountains in search of a population that could pay for their services. I'd been reading about Asheville, North Carolina and had made a cursory examination of the small mountain city. The architecture was beautiful, and there was a university where I might study. The city was situated over natural hot springs, and as a result, there were many sanitariums in the area. My dim memories of Carlisle tending to the infirm in Chicago during the flu epidemic led me to believe he might be drawn to work with those humans with tuberculosis.
For the past few days we'd been staying in a little log cabin somewhere on the border of Tennessee and North Carolina. I'd found a small trove of Farmer's Almanacs and was leafing through the planting calendar for 1927 as I waited for Carlisle to return. I wanted to speak with him about the possibility of finding a home in Asheville. Carlisle was out collecting berries from a small indigenous tree. The native people of the area believed it could cure certain men's illnesses.
But before he could return, I heard Rosalie's footsteps running up toward the house. I felt all of my muscles go tense and a small trickle of venom burned the back of my throat. It was always a battle with Rosalie.
"Esme! Esme!"
"She's not here, Rosalie. She's out with Carlisle," I said with hardly a glance in her direction.
"Oh." I could hear the disappointment in her voice. She flopped down in a small wooden chair near the door. Rosalie still wasn't used to her newborn strength and the chair creaked and groaned as she threw herself into it. "Argh!" she growled in a small fit of rage.
I went back to reading the almanac, leafing through a list of the times of sunrises and sunsets. Rosalie remained outwardly silent, but quite unexpectedly, her thoughts filled the air with music. It was similar to the jazz that I listened to in New York, but it had a darker feel. It nearly hurt at the same time as it was filled with joy and life. My interest was piqued and I sat on the edge of my seat and gave her mind my full attention. I needed to know where Rosalie heard this and what it was, but I knew that she hated that I could hear her thoughts. I braced for an argument as I put the book down and turned my full attention to her. I attempted to look as polite as possible.
"Excuse me Rosalie, but where did you hear that piece of music?"
She looked up, startled, and her dusky orange eyes flashed with anger. But then she shook her head like she was trying to dislodge an unpleasant thought. "I guess it has to be you. Fine, come with me and I'll show you."
She was out the door without another word. I took a moment to consider whether or not I would follow, and was intrigued enough to throw the almanac aside and track Rosalie's scent out into the night. She made her way straight down the mountainside, and I was surprised to see her angling for Waynesville, the nearest town.
I heard the music carried on the wind before I saw anything. Notes from a guitar and bass shuffled and then swung as sharp and sour chords bent and vibrated in the air. Then a human voice joined in with a keening moan, before launching into a soulful lament. With each flourish and fade a chorus of human voices would cheer and holler.
A complex scent blew through the air, one that I was immediately familiar with. I could identify liquor, sweat, cigarette smoke and the smell of human excitement. I slowed my pace. It all seemed so out of place amidst the wet underbrush on a mountainside, at the edges of a tiny mining town.
Rosalie's thoughts came to me across the darkness. "Edward, come on!"
I thought about my vow to steer clear of darker influences, about how I'd associated my descent into damnation with the evil I'd courted in the New York underground. With those smells it all came back to me and it was as if the scenes played out again before my eyes. A little blond-haired waitress was lying on the floor battered and broken while my only thought was whether or not to kill the man that hurt her. I watched her die and watched how I'd let it happen. I saw myself tracking that man, returning to those clubs night after night until chance brought me across him in an ally. I didn't stop and think before sinking my teeth into him, and I watched how alive it made me feel. I shivered on the wet mountainside, immobile and sickened.
Rose came back for me.
"What's the matter?"
"I don't think I can go in there, Rosalie."
"I'm not going inside anywhere!" Rosalie grabbed my hand and began to tug. Her newborn strength easily won out against my own, and I had no will to fight her. It would only make her angrier. So I let her pull me along until we could just make out a ramshackle structure pieced together haphazardly with tin and plywood. There was a crowd swirling around the front of the building, and claps, stomps and cheering could be heard inside. The rickety structure couldn't contain the music within its walls; it seemed to burst through the cracks in the tin roof, filling the night air until it was thick with sound.
"It sounds so sad, don't you think?" Rosalie asked.
"Yes."
"But really pretty. Do you want to dance?"
"No!"
"Edward, come on! I haven't heard live music since, since... well I don't know. I hardly remember anything before Carlisle... well you know. But I know I liked to go out and dance with...him." Rosalie scowled and stomped her foot. "Dance with me!"
"Rosalie," I growled, "You got me here, but I'm not dancing."
"Has anyone ever told you that you're no fun?"
"And you've been a ray of sunshine all these months, I suppose?"
A rumble erupted from Rosalie's chest and she twitched. "I hate when I do that."
"What?"
"Growl."
"Oh."
A new song swelled through the air. It was faster, driven unevenly like the musicians were being chased and were enjoying it. Rosalie's head snapped in the direction of the music. "Oh. That one's lovely."
I leaned back on my elbows and let the sound of the strings wash over me. I wished I'd gone out more in Rochester. I didn't know the next time I'd live in a city and have access to live music. I hoped it would be soon. It suddenly seemed silly not to have gone out for all of those months. I listened closer to try to make out the rapid-fire lyrics. What I heard made me quickly look away from Rosalie. I wondered if she had been listening and if she understood the implications.
"Why don't you like me, Edward?" Perhaps she'd heard the song's lyrics after all.
"I could ask you the same," I replied stiffly.
I heard her grit her teeth and work to suppress another growl.
"Actually, I don't need to ask you, Rosalie. You disliked me for my looks from the first time I heard your thoughts. And you've wanted nothing but my admiration from the first time you laid eyes on me. When I didn't give you what you wanted, you hated me more."
"But why won't you do it, Edward? Why won't you just look at me like a man looks at a woman?"
"I don't see you like that. Why is that a problem? I don't think you have unrequited feelings. I don't believe you see me as a desirable male."
"I think maybe you're the first man, ever, that hasn't looked at me that way."
"Carlisle?" I challenged.
"I'm guessing that's why I'm here."
"Esme is his mate. There's no one that could come between them; he loves her with all his heart."
"I didn't mean like that. But what else would have brought him to my side? Why else would a doctor that sees dying people every day, choose me?"
"It's something I've wondered myself. I don't know."
"Thanks, Edward," Rosalie scowled. "You're a sweetheart. It's a wonder I don't like you."
I sighed. "For Esme," I thought to myself. "Here's the rub, Rosalie. I think we both want to stay with this family. We need to make it as bearable as possible for everyone, don't you think?"
"So shall we be secretly in hate, Edward?"
I rolled my eyes.
"Or perhaps we'll learn to love each other," she scowled.
I couldn't help grinning.
"Who knows? That crooked smile of yours is kind of cute."
I pushed Rosalie and she pushed me right back. But with her strength she sent me flying down the incline and I skidded along the wet ground until I collided with a large sugar maple. The tree promptly cracked in two, and the trunk flew through the air and landed across the road in front of the little juke joint. Humans jumped and scrambled at the site of a tree falling for no reason, and I was back up the side of the mountain before humans could see me.
I shook my head and gritted my teeth as I sat back down next to Rosalie.
"Sorry," Rosalie apologized out loud. "He's had that coming since the moment I laid eyes on him."
"Don't lie, Rosalie. It's unbecoming," I chastised.
"Fine then, secretly in hate it is."
The next evening I tried to settle in with the 1928 Farmer's Almanac, but couldn't concentrate. My mind flew off in twenty different directions, all of them leading out of doors. Before I knew it I was running back down the mountainside, circling closer to the juke joint. Tonight, to my great delight, the piano was the centerpiece. I settled into the wet leaves, lay on my back and closed my eyes. I could see the hands of the pianist pounding out the notes on the back of my eyelids. The minor chords and sad lyrics evoked pain and regret, and it fit my mindset perfectly. But somehow, underneath all of the sadness, was a feeling of hope and determination. I was surprised that a human could convey such contrasting emotions in song. It hadn't occurred to me to hope.
Twenty yards to my right I heard leaves rustle in the underbrush. I sprung to my feet and crouched; ready to defend myself. It took me half a second to see Rosalie lying in the leaves with her eyes shut. Sensing my eyes on her, she growled under her breath. I settled cautiously back to the ground. We lay in the grass until the last strains of the blues trailed off in with the early morning light.
*
Our family spent a few idyllic weeks in that little house in the woods. Rose and I reached a new understanding. Perhaps we couldn't talk to each other civilly and perhaps we didn't like each other, but we could both understand the blues and entertain the idea of hope.
We were lying on the forest floor listening to another mournful song one night, when Rosalie struck up a conversation. I jumped at the sound of her voice. We never spoke when we spent the evening together.
"I asked him once, you know."
"What? Who?"
"I asked Carlisle why."
I was silent and tried to close my mind to Rosalie's thoughts. I didn't want to violate their confidence. She could continue if she wanted.
"Do you know what he said?"
"No." But I would pay large sums of money to find out, I thought to myself.
Rosalie looked surprised. "I figured you would know, that you would have heard... Well anyway, he said it would have been too much waste to let me go. He said he couldn't leave me there to die."
I sighed. "That's what he said to me."
"Yes... But it's not a good enough explanation, if you ask me."
"I don't know, Rosalie. He's kept his thoughts on the matter from me from the start."
"He has?" I saw Rosalie's eyes light up with sudden understanding.
I nodded. "What is it, Rosalie?"
"Edward, Esme's quite pleased that we've been spending our nights together."
I'd noticed Esme's cheerful attitude, but her mind had been quiet lately. I had guessed that our stay in one place for three weeks at a time might have brought on the thoughtlessly happy mood. The little wooden cabin felt almost cozy with her warm ministrations.
"Edward, I think I was right. I think it was my looks that got Carlisle's attention. But he wasn't thinking about himself."
"I don't know Rose. I thought maybe you were intended as a companion for Esme."
"No. I know the look that they've been giving me this week. Edward, Carlisle kept me for you."
I was struck silent. Rosalie was right; I knew it immediately. I recalled what I'd said about Rosalie the day after Carlisle saw her at the hospital, "Her thoughts cut through all the others at that gathering that evening." I'd paid attention to her the first night I met her. Her absurd thoughts had made me grin. Was that the first time I smiled since returning to Carlisle and Esme? Perhaps. Rosalie was maternal like Esme, and everyone including Carlisle found her absolutely attractive. Was this supposed to be an irresistible combination? How na•ve could Carlisle be? Did he think that damning another soul would make me happy? That I would jump at any unmated vampire?
I was on my feet growling with clenched hands. "Of all the..."
"So, you didn't know?"
"No! If I ever suspected... I can't believe he would..." I stopped and turned to Rosalie. This may have been unfair to me, but unfair didn't even come close to what this was for her. "Rosalie, I'm sorry. I'm sorry Carlisle didn't let you die like you wanted. I'm sorry for what happened to you, that you have to live with people you don't like. I'm sorry for everything."
"I like Carlisle and Esme enough by now. And it's not your fault... exactly."
"Not exactly?"
"Well, maybe if you found someone on your own. Maybe if you were happier then he wouldn't have --"
"What right do you have to talk about me like that? Should I have been more like you? Look who you chose!"
"Why you hateful little --"
"Little!"
Rosalie and I sprung at each other, and when our bodies collided a sharp crack reverberated through the air. I heard birds cry out in alarm and take to the sky; the humans below us in the parking lot went silent. But we didn't care. Rose fell to the ground, but she was up on her feet before I could pin her down. She came at me, but I could see what she was planning and I was able to easily dodge her.
"Aahh!" Rosalie cried out in rage. I heard the humans below us getting into their cars. A few people had rushed out of the building to see what the commotion was about.
"Rosalie, we should go," I hissed as I scanned the minds of the humans below to see if anyone suspected us. That's when she came at me from behind, jumping on my back and pushing me over the edge of the mountainside. We tumbled down the incline, knocking down trees and crushing boulders in our path until we crashed into the side of the juke joint. The walls shuddered and groaned on impact and the music came to a halt. People were rushing outside and I heard the nuts and bolts holding the place together creak and strain.
"Rosalie, now! Go!" I hissed. We took to the mountains without looking back. I didn't speak to Rosalie as we ran toward the cabin. Instead, I rehearsed all of the different ways I might confront Carlisle.
*
Rosalie and I burst through the front entrance of the cabin to see Esme drawing up some blueprints on the large wooden table in the main room. She glanced up with glittering, happy eyes. But one look at the range of emotions that must have been playing across our faces, and her face quickly registered alarm.
"What is it?"
"We have to go, Esme." My voice was hard and clipped.
"What --"
"We may have knocked over a juke joint," Rosalie explained.
"You robbed a what?"
"No, Esme. I think we may have actually knocked it down," I explained without a hint of irony.
Esme's eyebrows shot toward the ceiling. "And how did you two do that?"
I scowled at Rosalie. "I'd rather not say just now."
Esme shook her head and looked at the both of us sternly. "You're not going to say anything for yourselves?"
"Edward said --" "She was --"
We'd both started at the same time.
Esme silenced us both with a wave of her hand. "Fine. That's enough. Just when I thought you two were finally getting along."
This time Rosalie and I both growled in unison. Esme jumped backward.
"It will wait until Carlisle. This concerns him," I said in a softer tone.
"Yes, we'll talk when he gets back. Carlisle and I had something we wanted to discuss with you and Rose as well."
Esme tried, but couldn't keep her thoughts completely guarded from me.
"We're moving where, Esme?"

A/N: Sorry to keep you guys waiting weeks for an update! I'll try to get the next one out quicker. m
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The Newborn	By : belladonnacullen Category: Twilight Series > Het Views: 3452 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or make any money from this story.

The Newborn