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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
On the day of Esme's party I received a letter from the little waitress at The Cotton Club. She was writing to let me know that she was taking a position at a new venue. They offered her more hours and better pay, so she was leaving despite our patronage. But she hoped we would come visit her there. Opening night was in three days, and there was no question that we might get ourselves on the guest list. The musicians they had lined up for the evening included many of Edward's favorites. It seemed like the ingredients for a perfect evening, a lovely way to bring my stay in New York to a close.
On the night of the show, Edward met me at the foot of the stairs. I wore a sparkling white tunic, with a daring slit up one side and my hair piled on top of my head. Edward looked stunning in a charcoal gray suit and his signature crisp white button down. He smiled a little at me and took my hand as we made our way outside.
I could see that tonight was hard for Edward. On the way to Harlem, he held my hand a little longer than was necessary and smiled often, but always with sadness in his eyes.
When we arrived at the club we could immediately tell that this was a much seedier establishment than we were used to. We had to descend several dark, dirty steps before a large human male looked us over and opened an unmarked metal door. But inside there were all of the trappings of a jazz club: red velvet drapes, a subtly tropical jungle theme, and shiny round dimly lit tables. Scantily clad waitresses flitted over the floor, bringing strong drinks to the patrons. Of course, we were escorted to a table just off to the side of the stage, Edward's preference.
Strangely, our favorite waitress never materialized. But as the first notes of jazz hit the air, I knew it would be a wonderful evening with or without the little girl. Jelly Roll Morton had been brought in from Chicago, Bechet was on the saxophone, Armstrong was on the trumpet, and Whiteman was leading the band. It was a historic gathering and the club was packed.
We settled into our seats and relaxed as the first notes of the piano washed over us. I saw Edward's eyes light up and was pleased that he would have music as a lifeline to his former self after I was gone.
"He's spectacular, isn't he?" I nodded towards Jelly Roll.
"One of the best." Edward agreed.
"But you're better." I said with a smile.
Edward just chuckled and shook his head.
But then Edward was on his feet. Three seconds later a familiar female voice screamed from behind the stage. There was a heavy thud and muffled cries. Edward was at the back door, but he'd moved too quickly. The eyes of several of the patrons were on him. I moved as quickly as I dared to Edward's side.
"Bitch!" I man's voice rang out in frustration.
There was another scream and a crack, the crack of bone.
With one firm push from Edward the metal door clattered to the floor. There was a hiccup in the music coming from the stage, but Whiteman, not unused to scuffles, urged the band to play on.
I could hear panting, scraping and scrambling coming from a room down the hall. Edward was at the door. He pushed once, and it fell to the floor. There was another scream and a hollow click. It took me a split second to recognize the sound. It was the cocking of a gun. I was behind Edward in an eight of a second, human speed be damned.
Our little waitress was lying on the floor, bloody, broken, half-dressed, and moaning. Makeup was streaked down her face, her wet, blood-shot eyes trained on a man standing at her feet. It was a male I knew. He held one hand over a deep scratch on his cheek, the other shaking hand held a gun.
Our intrusion distracted him. His eyes flew from Edward to me. "Tanya?"
Edward used that moment to his advantage. He flew across the room at the male, and the gun discharged, the bullet shattering a windowpane. Glass rained to the floor. Edward held the male against the far wall, his hand around his neck.
The little girl's eyes were wide. She was shuddering and gasping on the floor. But I was at Edward's side instead.
"Put him down, cousin."
But it was hardly Edward that I saw there. His eyes were blazing golden daggers, his jaw was held very tight, his mouth slightly open. I could just see the edge of his sharp teeth, dripping wet. The only way I really knew Edward was present in that body was that the male was still alive.
The male's eyes were wild, and he focused on my face. "Tanya," he choked out, begging for mercy. I smelled the urine before I saw it dampen his pants.
Edward's grip tightened, the male coughed, sputtered and kicked his feet. There was a rumble deep in Edward's chest. The male's face turned from red, to white, to purple.
"Edward," I coaxed, my voice soft and steady, "put him down. Edward. Edward."
Edward flinched, showing a glimmer of recognition. "He's not yours, Tanya. This. One. Is. MINE." Edward opened his mouth and the sharp edges of his teeth glinted in the yellow light.
There were footsteps in the hall, then voices in the doorway. I spun to see five men dressed in black, with guns. "Shoot-" Edward's captive barely choked out. Guns were cocked, but I leapt across the room and all five were flung into the brick wall of the hallway. Concrete chips and dust filled the air and a shot rang out as a gun discharged. I heard the dull wet sound of the bullet entering flesh, and a sharp metallic thwack as it glanced off concrete.
I could smell the coppery scent before I turned back to the room. My throat burned. A deep red stain was blooming on the waitress's white satin bodice. Her eyes were unfocused, fixed in Edward's direction. Edward stared at the waitress, not moving a muscle. He still held the man off the floor by his neck. At first I thought it was shock that held Edward's gaze. But then I saw the growing pool of blood under her body.
"Edward, we have to go." I said as I slid along the wall, keeping as much distance as I could between the blood and myself. Flames were lapping at my throat. I could hear people rushing down the hall. Edward took a step toward the body.
"Edward." I took a step in his direction and he hissed at me.
"Mine."
"What are you?" Edward's captive managed. Edward's head snapped toward the man, his teeth bared. He ran his nose along the male's neck. There were sirens in the distance and the sound of more men in the hall.
I was at Edward's side. "Edward! Edward! No!" He flinched at the sound of my voice, so close to his ear. "Carlisle, Esme! Think of Esme!" I saw his shoulders fall. "Get out of here for Esme!"
He let up his grip on the male just slightly. It was the opportunity I was looking for. I tore him from Edward's hand and threw him into the opposite wall.
"Go!" I pulled at Edward, punched through a window, and pushed him ahead of me into the ally. I didn't trust him to bring up the rear. In the ally, Edward was focused only on the broken, gaping basement window. I held him back. The sweet scent of blood wafted into the night air. We had to get away. But Edward pulled us both back across the ally toward the building. I tugged against him and he snarled and snapped at my hand.
"We have to go!"
The sirens were getting louder and we could hear the sound of men in the room below. "What the fuck?" a deep male voice exclaimed.
A flashlight beam was aimed at us. "Police!" I didn't want to have to kill an officer. I didn't know how many might have died in the room below. There was the waitress, but I may have crushed the other men in my haste.
I took Edward's face in both of my hands. "We. Must. Go. Now!" I saw something click back into place and suddenly Edward was behind those eyes again.
We both ran away from the light. We ran along the Hudson, leapt over the Harlem River into the stylish neighborhoods of the Bronx. We ran farther, faster, the smells of the waning civilization pushing and pulling us like two driven creatures of the night.
*
Edward charged ahead, past the sleepy Westchester hamlets, until civilization fell behind us and we were in the foothills of the Peekskill Mountains. He moved with grace and swiftness like wind through the trees. His muscles rippled under his clothes, his purchase on the ground, rocks, trees was sure, yet lighter than rain. He was hunting. And I was with Edward, the primale, and the leader of the hunt. His eyes raked over me, assessing his second, and with his teeth bared in acceptance we flew on, up into the trees, along branches, following not only scent but also the feel of vibrations on the wind.
And then, all at once the scent was on us. Many. Carnivores. Wolves. Five. With pups. Venom dripped down my chin, and we were the wind again, motion as effortless as a human heartbeat.
We were there. Upon them. The alpha stood tall with hairs bristling on her neck. Her seconds were two steps behind her. Two females barred us from the pups.
Edward lowered one of his heels to the ground behind him. It signaled that she was his. And then he was in the air and she fearlessly met him to save her brood. His mouth on her neck, hands pulling her forelegs wide, bones in her chest cracking, gracefully somersaulting over the wolf. She landed on her back, hind legs clawing, he pulled his torso away and she never touched him. And then one hand held her head firmly, purposefully, respectfully, as he sucked long and hard, no blood escaping, eyes heavy- lidded, hands clawing reflexively in and out like a kitten, his body shuddering in time with the beat of her heart, until she was dry.
*
We crouched on the banks of the Hudson to wash the blood from our fingernails and our faces. I didn't look Edward in the eye. There were too many emotions at war within myself; respect, horror, exhilaration, all mixed with the languid lull of bloody satisfaction. I couldn't trust which emotion might come to the forefront if I met the intensity of his gaze.
"We have to go to Carlisle now." I said as I kept my eyes trained on the rushing water.
"No." Edward said with authority born of the hunt. He grabbed hold of my hand under the water. "Everything is about to change. Please, give me an hour." And he pulled me by the hand to the grass of the riverbank. He stared at the black water in front of us.
"Carlisle won't be angry. These things happen. It could have been much worse," I explained to the trees, for I still couldn't look at Edward.
"Worse?" Then we stared at one another. Edward's eyes were still on fire.
"We didn't save her. You saved him instead."
"I was saving you."
"You spent the night with that man?"
"Once."
"And if those thugs bring him to Carlisle's hospital, he would administer to that monster's wounds."
"That is the point of being a doctor. You don't judge your patients."
Edward shook his head and gritted his teeth.
"You didn't want him. If you did, I couldn't have kept you away."
"No. I still want him, Tanya. You're wrong." Edward paused before continuing. "Why are we supposed to walk through this world and do nothing to make it better? That is a curse as significant as damnation, or perhaps they are one and the same. Damned to bear evil for eternity."
"Edward, I have been on this earth for a long time. Evil will always make its home here. You can't take it away. One evil dies and a new evil is born. You're talking about a fruitless quest."
We settled into silence. The leaves in the trees rustled, the river burbled. Edward lay on his back and I followed suit.
"The stars here aren't like the ones in Denali. I haven't seen beauty like that since Alaska. Here, among humanity, I hear the minds of the indecent, the depraved. The city is dirty, the air is thick and gray."
"They say that when you are in love some of the darkness disappears, that the beauty of the world that emerges before you."
"Then I'm certainly not in love."
"No, you're not." I tried a different angle. "The Buddhists believe there is equal measure of dark and light in everything. That within that male there is also an innocent boy. That within that waitress is also a harlot. That within each vampire, perhaps there lays an angel as well."
"I don't believe it." Edward turned to look at me. "Tanya, I'm afraid. I'm afraid for myself, for my family."
"You'll leave here. You will all be safe."
"That's not what I meant."
"Tell me that you'll take care of yourself, Edward." But he didn't answer.
*
I set off for Denali in the morning. Carlisle, Esme and Edward left immediately for the cottage they rented on Fire Island. The island would be completely isolated this time of year, and Carlisle hoped that would help Edward some. Both Carlisle and Esme were noticeably distressed by the situation, but were also relieved in some measure that Edward had chosen not to take a life. He had been pushed to the brink and had chosen well.
While I was in New York, telephone lines had made their way to our home in the Alaskan wilderness. Esme kept in touch often, and was quick to admit that she missed the company of another female. She confessed to me that Edward wasn't doing well in isolation. He would lie on his bed for days at a time. He despised the island deer, which was the only food the place had to offer. He didn't play the piano. And he had begun leaving them at night.
Esme feared he was making the trip back to Harlem. Carlisle tried to speak with him, and Edward would listen impassively.
I didn't know what to say to Edward. He didn't want to talk on the telephone. My letters either sounded overly maternal or alarmist. All I really wanted to say was, "I miss you," but somehow I never did.
It was one of the dark days in Alaska, just after the New Year when I received a parcel in the mail from Esme. I sat at the kitchen table to open it. Inside were the photos that Carlisle had taken at Esme's birthday party, blown up to considerable size. His toy camera had worked after all.
I leafed through the happy pictures; Esme smiling with her new locket, Esme overjoyed with the little picture of the cottage in her hands, one that I had taken of Carlisle and Esme in an embrace. But then there was one that stopped my breath. It was the photo Carlisle took of Edward at the piano, smiling up at me. It was the last time that I had seen that look in his eyes. They were full of love.
On the back Esme had written:
Tanya, You brought great love to our home. We all miss you and we hope to see you again soon.
Esme
I looked closely at Edward. I studied the way the camera caught the glinting rays of light coming off the edge of his teeth. I traced the golden halo around his irises, and saw the pain and pride held there. He had been on this earth for twenty-six years. But there was a depth in his eyes not often seen in those with less than a century under their belts. And this made him beautiful, so much more beautiful than his hair or his bone structure or his vampiric features did.
I studied the picture, making sure to memorize each detail, each pearl around my neck, the piano in the background, the shadows cast against the far wall. What a beautiful picture. And when I finally looked up I cast my eyes on our lovely little kitchen. Through the window over the sink I could see to the horizon, over the barren Arctic terrain. It was magnificent. The pale gray light of mid-day lit the dust motes in the air, and they sparkled with each of the colors of the rainbow. I could hear Carmen and Eleazar murmuring in the other room. The sound their voices made was amazing. The world around me glittered, it's beauty unmasked.
Five days letter Esme telephoned, frantic.
Edward was gone.

A/N: Just wanted to clarify... not the end of the story, but the end of a period in Edward's life. There will be more. Marie
- 7
- 8
- 9
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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