From echoes of the past to whispers of the future, every moment leaves its mark.
Chapters: 17/24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Relationships: Ninth Doctor & Rose Tyler
Characters: Rose Tyler, Ninth Doctor (Doctor Who), The Doctor's TARDIS, Jackie Tyler, Jack Harkness
Additional Tags: Introspection, Character Study, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Love, Trust Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, The TARDIS rooms aren't shown enough so I'm taking that into my own hands, TARDIS Repairs (Doctor Who), Exploring the TARDIS, Life in the TARDIS, Missing Scene, Slice of Life, Processing Trauma, Ninth Doctor Era, Complicated Relationships, Melancholy, Post-Episode: s01e03 The Unquiet Dead (Doctor Who), Nightmares, Original Alien Planet, Injury Recovery, Angst, Classic Doctor Who References, Bad Wolf, Episode: s01e08 Father's Day (Doctor Who)
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Landing in a rather undignified heap with an ‘oof’, he rights himself, brushing down his jumper. “Must be getting close to the disturbance. Terraforming like this doesn’t go haywire on its own.”
“So you think, what, someone’s messing around with an entire forest?” she asks as she hands over the sonic.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
The Courtship of Charlotte Bridgerton: Macclesfield Ball Part II
“Do not worry, my dear,” Clairmont murmured, his voice lowering to a slyly seductive timbre. “I have a feeling that you’ve managed to keep most of your secrets intact as well.” Charlotte marveled at how he had taken control of their conversation, with the subtlest of innuendo and an elegance that she found far too attractive.
“You paint us with the same brush, but we are different,” Charlotte said, a little unsteady. "My secrets are that of the mind. Yours, I somehow feel… are not.”
“No… but perhaps some of yours are not either.” He leaned forward and gently brushed an errant curl aside. “For one,” he purred in her ear, “I do not think anyone kisses like you did their first time.”
She didn't give them a moment to process her transformation. All they got was a warning screech from her steed before it charged at them. The Queen bent low, pulling out a wicked-looking spear, black and white like the rest of her, ready to pierce and strike.
"Scatter!" Rena shouted, the heroes breaking apart to dodge the charging Queen. Instead of the knight moving to jump, with a pull of the reins, the Queen turned the steed around to face them once more. She moved to charge at Rena, only for a trompo the wrap around the spear, trying to pull it from her grasp. She pulled her knight to a stop, turning the white eyes of her mask towards Malik.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The Temple was blackened in patches from soot; a burnt, hollow shell of its former glory. Smoke from the previous night’s fire still billowed from somewhere within the building’s spires, white and grey and black. She coughed as its acridity entered her nostrils and lungs, the charred, rubbery taste thick on her tongue.
Padmé didn’t have to look at Moteé to know that her handmaiden would be wearing an ‘I-told-you-so’ look on her face.
Hundreds of troopers swarmed the area like insects, their hard shells glistening in the sunlight. As they got closer, she could better see their markings. They all wore blue pauldrons, with a blue upside-down triangle painted in the center of their helmets and on their chestplates.
Thank goodness. She knew these troopers—they were Ani’s.
These were good men… they could be trusted to tell her the truth.
…But why is there such a large attachment here? I thought the bulk of the 501st was with Ahsoka on Mandalore. And while some of them doubtlessly returned to Coruscant when Ani left the siege to rescue the Chancellor, why didn't they accompany him to Mustafar?
“—in the lower left quadrant,” one trooper was saying to the other.
“And the archives?”
“Twenty so far, Sir.”
That was when the two troopers noticed them.
“Senator, this is a restricted area,” one said.
“Who is in charge here?” Padmé asked. “I’d like to speak to your commanding officer.”
All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer, and this project is non-profit and fan entertainment.Thank you to Laura G, Devyn L, Birdy E, Naoya, Liz B, Caitlin L, Jordyn, Breanna P, Amanda L, Gabrielle P, Nobbie A, Tori K, goddessayem, smallnark, Julia F, Mol M, Dyma S, Rose I, Tess KC, Maria K, Rachel E, Kathleen K, Katie G, Brittany E, Elizabeth E, Imp, Amy L, Robin SG, and the project admin Alina G.
Chapter 15. THE CULLENS
The muted light of yet another cloudy day woke me. I lay with my arm across my eyes, groggy and dazed. A pleasant, foggy memory stirred in my consciousness, like a dream trying to be remembered. I groaned and rolled onto my side, hoping more sleep would come. Then the previous day flooded my memories.
"Oh!" I sat up so fast it made my head spin.
"Good morning sleeping beauty." Her soft voice came from the rocking chair in the corner.
"Edythe! You stayed!" I cried, and threw myself across the room and into her lap, startling her. In the instant that my thoughts caught up with my actions, I froze, shocked by my own uncontrolled enthusiasm. She just laughed.
"Of course," she answered, seeming pleased by my reaction. Her hands rubbed my back. I laid my head against her shoulder, breathing in the smell of her.
"I was sure it was a dream."
"I’m not that rude to ditch you in the middle of the night," she scoffed.
I tilted my head up, wanting to kiss her. Then I remembered the unfortunate problem called morning breath.
“I need a minute to get ready,” I said, pulling myself out of her arms.
She shrugged. “I’ll wait.”
I practically skipped to the bathroom, giddy, and I found myself facing a stranger in the mirror. My eyes were too bright, and there were shades of blush on my cheeks that were apparent even with my dark skin. I worked to make sense of the chaos that was my hair. I brushed my teeth and splashed my face with cold water. I tried to breathe normally, tried to calm the bubbling happiness inside of me with no noticeable success. I half-ran back to my room.
She was there, waiting patiently in the rocking chair. She reached out to me, and my heart thumped unsteadily.
"Welcome back," she murmured, taking me into her arms. I eased my head onto her chest as calmly as I could, trying hard to ignore the butterflies inside.
We sat in each other’s arms, enjoying the other’s company without a need for words. I noticed that her clothes were changed and her hair combed smooth.
"You left?" I asked, touching the collar of her fresh shirt.
Her fingers found mine as she grinned. "I could hardly leave in the clothes I came in — what would the neighbors think?"
I laughed. “Always thinking ahead—” I looked away, face already flaming from my next words, “—that’s what I love about you.”
She blinked, then giggled. I glanced at her. Her golden eyes were very soft, “I love you too, Bella.”
“So, breakfast?” I ventured. She nodded, and we headed down the stairs, hand in hand.
Charlie had already left for work, so it was just me and her. The kitchen was bright and happy, reflecting my mood.
"What's for breakfast?" I asked pleasantly.
That threw her for a minute.
"Er, I'm not sure. What would you like?" Her brow crinkled.
I grinned. "That's all right, I fend for myself pretty well. Watch me hunt." I hopped up from my seat as she rolled her eyes.
I found a bowl and a box of cereal. I could feel her eyes on me as I poured the milk and grabbed a spoon. It made me wonder if I was being rude, not offering my guest anything. I sat my food on the table, and then paused.
"Can I get you anything?" I asked, just for the sake of politeness.
"No, it’s okay, Bella. Eat.”
I sat at the table, watching her as I took a bite. She was gazing at me with a smile. I cleared my throat to distract her.
"What's on the agenda for today?" I asked.
"Hmmm…" I watched her frame her answer carefully. "Would you like to meet my family?"
I gulped.
“Are we already at that stage of the relationship?" This made her giggle. “I- I don’t know how I feel about the idea.”
"Are you afraid of them?" She sounded worried. “They won’t hurt you, and you don’t have to go if you don’t feel comfortable.”
"I'm not afraid of them," I explained. "I'm afraid they won't… like me. Won't they be, well, surprised that you would bring someone… a human… home to meet them? Do they know that I know about them?"
"Oh, they already know everything. They'd taken bets yesterday, you know," she smiled, "on whether you’d come over, though why anyone would bet against Alice, I can't imagine. At any rate, we don't have secrets in the family. It's not really feasible, since we’ve known and trusted each other for hundreds of years."
"Did Alice see me coming?"
Her reaction was strange. "Something like that," she said uncomfortably, turning away so I couldn't see her eyes. I stared at her curiously.
"I’d like to meet your mother too..."
"You already met," I reminded her.
"As your girlfriend, I mean."
I stared at her with surprise. "Would you like to? I mean, are you okay with..."
"Isn't that customary?" she asked shyly.
"I don't know. I think Charlie would be happy," I admitted. My dating history gave me few reference points to work with.
"That's not necessary, you know. I don't expect you to… I mean, you don't have to…”" I searched for the word. “You don’t have to expose yourself for me. Your family took pains to blend in, and officially becoming my girlfriend might make that difficult.”
Her smile was patient. "I’ll be alright, don’t worry."
I pushed the remains of my cereal around the edges of the bowl, biting my lip.
"You don’t have to tell Charlie if it makes you nervous." She said gently. “But I would love to be your girlfriend to your mother, not just a classmate.”
"Does that make us official?" I suppressed the sudden thrill in my chest, heart beating fast again.
She frowned. "Wait. I thought we were already dating."
“Were we?” I looked at her with innocent eyes. “Neither of us never actually asked.”
The dawning horror on her face made me giggle. “I’m not used to this,” she said, exasperated. “I got excited and assumed… oh my god…”
"I was under the impression that you were something more, actually," I confessed, looking at the table to save her the embarrassment.
"Well..." Edythe paused, then faced me awkwardly. I cupped my chin in my hands and waited. "Bella Swan,” she said slowly, “would you be my girlfriend?"
"Maybe." I said, mischievously. "Will you be my girlfriend??"
"As long as you want me," she answered, grinning in turn.
"I'll have to think about it," I said, pretending to be hard to get.
She walked slowly around the table to where I was sitting, and, pausing next to me, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to my cheek. I tried to stay still, not to show any signs that my heart rate jumped with her touch.
“Does that help to convince you?” Her murmur was soft in my ears.
I turned my head so I could fully see her face, and pecked her on the lips. “Yup.”
I could see in her expression that she had expected it, but was not prepared for it. She stared into my face for a while, her expression a mix of adoration and bashfulness. Then she realized I could see it, and quickly turned away with an embarrassed clearing of her throat.
“Are you finished?” She finally asked.
I jumped up. “Yes.”
“You should go get dressed. I’ll, uh, wait here.” She still refused to look at me. If only she wasn’t undead, I thought to myself. I would have loved to see her flustered blush.
It was hard to decide what to wear. I doubted there were any etiquette books detailing how to dress when your vampire girlfriend takes you home to meet her vampire family. I wondered if I wasn’t the only one who have faced this predicament. The thought of another girl with a vampire girlfriend, struggling to dress to impress the future in-laws, made me laugh and cheered me enormously.
I ended up black jeans, the ones that had the least tears in them, and a dark blue plaid button-up she’d once complimented. A quick glance in the mirror told me my hair was entirely impossible, so I pulled it back into a ponytail.
"Okay." I bounced down the stairs. "I'm decent."
She was waiting at the foot of the stairs, closer than I'd thought, and I bounded right into her. She steadied me, holding me steady for a few moments to see if I was dizzy, and then with a smile pulled me closer.
"Wrong again," she murmured in my ear. "You are utterly indecent — no one should look so tempting, it's not fair."
It seems I could feel my blush spread all the way to my ears as I ducked my head. Ignoring myself, I huffed, “You just asked me out a few minutes ago, and now you’re trying to seduce me? You’re more of a U-Haul girl than I expected.”
She snorted, then pressed her lips delicately to my forehead.
"Shall I explain how you are tempting me?" she said, winking. It was clearly a rhetorical question. Her fingers traced slowly down my spine, her breath coming tenderly against my skin. I wrapped my arms around her neck and looked in her golden eyes. She tilted her head slowly and touched her lips to mine, very carefully, parting them slightly.
I pretended to swoon, hand to forehead and everything.
"Bella?" Her voice was half-laughing as she caught me and held me up.
"You… made… me… faint," I accused her.
"What am I going to do with you?" she groaned in joking exasperation. "Yesterday I kiss you, and you attack me! Today you’re passing out on me!"
I laughed, letting her arms support me as I leaned against her.
"So much for being good at everything," she sighed.
"That's the problem." I touched her lips with my finger. "You're too good. Far, far too good."
"Should I not kiss you again then?" she asked; she already knew what my answer was.
I pouted. "I just forgot to breathe that time. That doesn’t mean you should stop.”
"I can't take you anywhere like this."
"I'll be fine," I said. “I’ll remember to breathe next time.”
Edythe smiled at me, immeasurable fondness in her eyes.. "You’re very cute when you’re cheeky," she said unexpectedly. I felt my face flush, and looked away.
"Look.” I took a deep breath, then let it out. “If you want to go meet your family, we should go. At this rate I’m afraid I might stay here with you all day. Unless you’d like to—?” I raised an eyebrow.
She studied my face. "I can see your bravado, you know.”
“You could tell?”
”You're still worried, not because you're headed to meet a houseful of vampires, but because you think those vampires won't approve of you, correct?"
"That's right," I answered immediately, hiding my surprise at her casual use of the word.
Edythe shook her head with a smile. "You're incredible." She touched my cheek gently. “They’ll love you, don’t worry.”
I bit my lips and nodded. She offered me her hand and I gratefully accepted it, then we walked out to the car.
I realized, as she drove us out of the main part of town, that I had no idea where she lived. We passed over the bridge at the Calawah River, the road winding northward, the houses flashing past us growing farther apart, getting bigger. And then we were past the other houses altogether, driving through a misty forest. I was trying to decide whether to ask or be patient when she turned abruptly onto an unpaved road. It was unmarked, barely visible among the ferns. The forest encroached on both sides, leaving the road ahead only discernible for a few meters as it twisted, serpentlike, around the ancient trees.
And then, after a few miles, there was some thinning of the woods, and we were suddenly in a small meadow, or was it actually a lawn? The gloom of the forest didn't relent, though, for there were six primordial cedars that shaded an entire acre with their vast sweep of branches. The trees held their protecting shadow right up to the walls of the house that rose among them, making obsolete the deep porch that wrapped around the first story.
I had expected a castle like those in Dracula movies, completed with thunder and ominous music, or maybe a log cabin for something this far into the woods, but it definitely wasn't that. The house was peaceful, lovely, and three stories tall. The color was a soft shade of white that complemented the surrounding palette of brown wood and leafy greens. The wide windows and door designs were tastefully chosen to match the atmosphere of the surrounding woods, of a newer construction style. My truck was the only car in sight, but I saw garage doors on the bottom story. I could hear the river close by, hidden in the obscurity of the forest.
"Wow."
"Do you like it?" Edythe asked nervously.
"It’s very charming."
She breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently I wasn’t the only one worried about me coming here.
Edythe got out first, then walked over to my side of the car. "Ready?" she asked, opening my door for me.
"Not even a little bit — let's go." I took a deep breath, but it seemed to get stuck in my throat. I touched my hair nervously.
"You look lovely." She took my hand easily, without thinking about it.
We walked through the deep shade up to the porch. I knew she could feel my tension; her thumb rubbed soothing circles into the back of my hand.
She opened the door for me.
The inside was a continuation of the feel of the exterior. It was very bright, very open, and very large. This must have originally been several rooms, but the walls had been removed from most of the first floor to create one wide space. The back, south-facing wall had been entirely replaced with glass, and, beyond the shade of the cedars, the lawn stretched bare to the wide river. A massive curving staircase dominated the west side of the room. The walls, the high-beamed ceiling, the wooden floors, and the thick carpets were all varying shades of being and brown. Waiting to greet us, standing just to the left of the door, on a raised portion of the floor by a spectacular grand piano, were Edythe's parents. From the way they stood, I realized they must have made an effort to plan out their exact position and pose. Their expressions, when Edythe first opened the door, were the perfect masks of patience. Then they saw me, and the excitement leapt into their faces. I realized then that I had nothing to fear from Edythe’s parents. My nervousness evaporated, and I stepped forward to greet them.
I'd seen Dr. Cullen before, of course, yet I couldn't help but be struck again by her youth, the lack of lines and wrinkles expected of a woman of her supposed age. At her side was Esme, I assumed, the only one of the family I'd never seen before. Esme was an Indian woman, with the same golden eyes and dark circles surrounding them as the rest of Cullens. Something about her heart-shaped face, her billows of soft, dark hair, reminded me of the quiet elegance of the silent-movie era. She was small and slender next to her tall, broad wife. They smiled warmly at me, but made no move to approach us. Trying not to frighten me, I guessed.
"Carine, Esme," Edythe's voice broke the short silence, "this is Bella."
"You're very welcome, Bella." Carine's step was measured, careful as she approached me. She raised her hand tentatively, and I stepped forward to shake hands with her.
"It's nice to see you again, Dr. Cullen."
"Please, call me Carine."
"Carine." I repeated, smiling at her. I could feel Edythe's relief at my side.
Esme smiled and stepped forward as well, reaching for my hand. Her kindly grasp was just as I expected.
"It's very nice to meet you," she said sincerely. “I was wondering when Edythe would bring you over.”
"Thank you. I'm glad to meet you, too." And I was. I couldn’t remember, why had I been afraid of the disapproval of Edythe’s parents? They were just reacting like Renee and Charlie might if it was me bringing Edythe home. I saw only warmth and love in their eyes.
"Where are Alice and Jasper?" Edythe asked, but no one answered, as they had just appeared at the top of the wide staircase.
"Hey, Edythe!" Alice called enthusiastically. She ran down the stairs, a streak of black hair and brown skin, coming to a sudden and graceful stop in front of me. Carine and Esme shot warning glances at her, but I liked it. It felt natural — for her, anyway.
"Hi, Bella!" Alice said, and she bounced forward to kiss my cheek. If Carine and Esme had looked cautious before, they now looked shocked.
Alice was so cheerful I couldn’t help but smile. Carine and Esme, noticing my pleased expression, relaxed considerably.
"You look great," she commented, to my extreme embarrassment.
Jasper stood a few feet back behind Alice — tall and leonine. A feeling of ease spread through me, and I was more comfortable. Edythe stared at Jasper, raising one eyebrow, and I remembered what Jasper could do.
"Hello, Bella," Jasper said. She kept her distance, not offering to shake my hand. But it was impossible to feel awkward near her.
"Hello, Jasper." I smiled at her shyly, and then at the others. "It's nice to meet you all — you have a very beautiful home," I added conventionally.
"Thank you," Esme said. "We're so glad that you came." She spoke with affection, and I realized I was already included in the family.
Rosalie and Eleanor were nowhere to be seen, and I wondered about Edythe's too-innocent denial when I'd asked her if the others didn't like me.
Carine's expression distracted me from this train of thought; she was gazing meaningfully at Edythe with an intense expression. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edythe nod once.
I looked away, trying to be polite and leave them to their mental conversation. My eyes wandered again to the beautiful instrument on the platform by the door. I remembered my childhood fantasy that, should I ever win a lottery, I would buy a grand piano for Renée. She wasn't a professional — she only played for herself on our secondhand upright — but I loved to watch her play. She was happy when she was by the piano, absorbed in the music — she seemed like a new, mysterious being to me then, someone outside the "mom" persona I took for granted. She'd put me through lessons, of course, but like most kids, I whined until she let me quit.
Esme noticed my interest.
"Do you play?" she asked, inclining her head toward the piano.
I shook my head. "Not at all. My mom, Renee, does though. It's so beautiful. Is it yours?"
"Used to be," she laughed. "My interest have always been more in much, much older musical instruments, preferably from old civilizations. Carine and Jasper dabble, but it’s mostly Edythe’s now. Did Edythe tell you she was musical?"
"No." I glanced at her. "I thought she would have accidentally broken it."
Esme raised her eyebrows in confusion.
"Edythe can stop a van, right?" I explained.
Jasper snickered and Esme gave Edythe a reproving look.
"I hope you haven't been showing off— it's rude," Esme scolded.
"Just a bit," Edythe laughed freely. Her face softened at the sound, and they shared a brief look of affection.
"She's been too modest, actually," I said. “I wish I could have heard her play.”
"Well, play for her," Esme encouraged.
"You just said showing off was rude," Edythe objected.
"There are exceptions to every rule," Esme replied promptly.
"I'd like to hear you play," I innocently volunteered, trying not to giggle.
"It's settled then." Esme nudged Edythe toward the piano, who rolled her eyes then took a seat. I hesitated, standing next to the piano. Then Edythe motioned me towards the spot on the bench next to her, and I shyly sat down.
She gave me a dramatic exasperated yet teasing look before she turned to the keys. And then her fingers flowed swiftly across the ivory and the room was filled with a composition so complex, so luxuriant, it was impossible to believe only one set of hands played. I felt myself lean closer to her, my eyes transfixed upon her hands on the keys.
Edythe looked at me casually, the music still surging around us without a break, and winked. "Do you like it?"
"You wrote this?" I gasped, understanding.
She nodded. "It's Esme's favorite."
I closed my eyes, drinking in the sound with every part of my being.
The music slowed, transforming into something softer, and to my surprise I detected the melody of her lullaby weaving through the profusion of notes.
"You inspired this one," she said softly. The music grew unbearably sweet.
I couldn't speak, but I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks.
"They like you, you know," she said conversationally. "Esme especially."
I glanced behind me, but the huge room was empty now.
"Where did they go?"
"Very subtly giving us some privacy, I suppose." That made me snort.
Thinking of the Cullens reminded me of the two that weren’t here, and my doubts flooded back. I sighed. "They like me. But Rosalie and Eleanor…" I trailed off, not sure how to express my doubts.
Her eyes widened. "I forgot to tell you," she said, stopping and hitting her forehead with her palm. "They’re not here not because of you."
I pursed my lips skeptically. "Really?"
"They’re with the Black pack," Edythe continued. “Julie and Sethe were helping Rosalie with fixing her car earlier. They’re testing it out right now; they’ll probably be back soon.”
The Black pack? “Wait,” I furrowed my brows, “is there something I’m missing here?”
“I think that’s something Julie should tell you herself,” Edythe replied.
I had an inkling of what Edythe was hinting at, but let the subject drop. It would be better to hear it from Julie.
“Are Rosalie and Eleanor truly alright with me, though?” I had to make sure.
Edythe frowned. “Well, Eleanor thinks I’m nuts, rushing everything, but she doesn’t have a problem with you. And Rosalie…” She struggled for a while. “Don’t worry about Rosalie.”
"What is it that upsets her?" I wasn't sure if I wanted to know the answer.
She sighed deeply. "Rosalie struggles the most with… with what we are. She’s the most cautious out of all of us about not getting discovered, so she doesn’t trust you yet. And she’s a little jealous."
"Rosalie is jealous of me?" I asked, surprised. I couldn’t think of a single reason why.
"You're human. She wishes that she was human, too. Or still was." Edythe looked into my eyes. “Being a vampire isn’t exactly a blessing.”
"What about Esme and Carine… ?" I asked, still slightly upset.
Edythe took my hand in hers, reassuring me. "They’re happy to see me happy. Carine met you before, and has liked you since. They think you’re a trustworthy girl, and Esme is happy that I found someone who I love.” She smiled. “I wish you could have read their thoughts and saw how anxious and elated they were when we arrived. Guess parents don’t change whether they’re human or vampires."
"And Alice seems very… enthusiastic."
"Alice has her own way of looking at things," she said sheepishly.
I laughed. “I like her.” I smiled at the memory of Carine and Esme’s shock at her greeting. "May I ask what Carine told you before?"
"You noticed that, did you?"
"You don’t have to tell me if it’s something private. I was only curious."
She looked at me thoughtfully for a few seconds before answering. "She wanted to tell me some news — she didn't know if it was something we should share with you."
"What is it? What’s wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, exactly. Alice just sees some visitors coming soon. They know we're here and who we are, and they're curious."
"Vampires?"
"Yes… well, they aren't like us, — in their hunting habits, I mean. They probably won't come into town at all, but..."
I shivered.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” she said firmly, arms coming to wrap around me. “My family will be on watch, as well as the Black pack.”
I leaned into her shoulder, allowing myself to feel safe in her embrace. Finally, I said, “Your house isn’t what I expected at all.”
"No coffins, no piled skulls in the corners; I don't even think we have cobwebs… what a disappointment this must be for you," she continued slyly.
I grinned, elbowing her ribs slightly. "The atmosphere so light… so open."
She was more serious when she answered. "It's the one place we never have to hide."
Edythe let go of me, though I continue to lean against her, to continue playing where she left off. The song she was still playing, my song, drifted to an end, the final chords shifting to a more melancholy key. The last note hovered poignantly in the silence.
"Thank you," I murmured. I realized there were tears in my eyes. I dabbed at them, embarrassed.
She touched the corner of my eye, trapping one I missed. She lifted her finger, examining the drop of moisture broodingly.
I looked at her questioningly
“Vampires can’t cry,” she answered. She looked back at me and smiled. "Do you want to see the rest of the house? The others are probably going to be back soon, you might not get a chance to see it then."
"No coffins?" I asked.
She laughed, taking my hand, leading me away from the piano. "No coffins," she promised.
We walked up the massive staircase, my hand trailing along the satin-smooth rail. The long hall at the top of the stairs was paneled with a honey-colored wood, the same as the floorboards.
"Rosalie and Eleanor's room… Carine's office… Alice's room…" She gestured as she led me past the doors.
She would have continued, but I stopped dead at the end of the hall, staring incredulously at the ornament hanging on the wall above my head.
Edythe chuckled at my bewildered expression.
"You can laugh," she said. "It is sort of ironic."
I didn't laugh. My hand raised automatically, one finger extended as if to touch the large wooden cross, its dark patina contrasting with the lighter tone of the wall. I didn't touch it, though I was curious if the aged wood would feel as silky as it looked.
"It must be very old," I guessed.
She shrugged. "Early sixteen-thirties, more or less."
I looked away from the cross to stare at her. "Why do you keep this here?" I wondered.
"Nostalgia. It belonged to Carine's mother."
"She collected antiques?" I suggested doubtfully.
"No. She carved this herself. It hung on the wall above the pulpit in the vicarage where she preached."
I wasn't sure if my face betrayed my shock, but I returned to gazing at the simple, ancient cross, just in case. I quickly did the mental math; the cross was over three hundred and seventy years old. The silence stretched on as I struggled to wrap my mind around the concept of so many years.
"Are you alright?" She sounded worried.
"How old is Carine?" I asked quietly, ignoring her question, still staring up.
"She just celebrated her three hundred and sixty-second birthday," Edythe said. I looked back at her, a million questions in my eyes.
She watched me carefully as she spoke. "Carine was born in London, in the sixteen-forties, she believes. Time wasn't marked as accurately back then, for the common people anyway. It was just before Cromwell's rule, though."
I kept my face composed, aware of her scrutiny as I listened. It was easier if I thought it was just a story for now.
"She was the only daughter of an Anglican pastor. Her mom died giving birth to her, and her mother, the pastor, was an intolerant woman. As the Protestants came into power, she was enthusiastic in her persecution of Roman Catholics and other religions. She also believed very strongly in the reality of evil. She led hunts for witches, werewolves… and vampires." I grew very still at the word. I'm sure she noticed, but she went on without pausing. "They burned a lot of innocent people — of course the real creatures that he sought were not so easy to catch.”
"When the pastor grew old, she placed her obedient daughter in charge of the raids. At first Carine was a disappointment; she was not quick to accuse, to see demons where they did not exist. But she was persistent, and more clever than her mother. She actually discovered a coven of true vampires that lived hidden in the sewers of the city, only coming out by night to hunt. In those days, when monsters were not just myths and legends, that was the way many lived.”
"The people gathered their pitchforks and torches, of course" — her brief laugh was darker now — "and waited where Carine had seen the monsters exit into the street. Eventually one emerged."
Her voice was very quiet; I strained to catch the words.
"She must have been ancient, and weak with hunger. Carine heard her call out in Latin to the others when she caught the scent of the mob. She ran through the streets, and Carine — she was twenty-three and very fast — was in the lead of the pursuit. The creature could have easily outrun them, but Carine thinks she was too hungry, so she turned and attacked. She fell on Carine first, but the others were close behind, and she turned to defend herself. She killed two men, and made off with a third, leaving Carine bleeding in the street."
She paused. I could sense she was editing, probably omitting parts that she thought would scare me.
"Carine knew what her mother would do. The bodies would be burned — anything infected by the monster must be destroyed. Carine acted instinctively to save her own life. She crawled away from the alley while the mob followed the fiend and her victim. She hid in a cellar, buried herself in rotting potatoes for three days. It's a miracle she was able to keep silent, to stay undiscovered.”
"It was over then, and she realized what she had become."
I'm not sure what my face was revealing, but she suddenly broke off.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"I'm fine," I assured her. And, though I bit my lip in hesitation, she must have seen the curiosity burning in my eyes.
She smiled. "I expect you have a few more questions for me."
"A few."
Her smile widened, brilliant. She started back down the hall, gesturing for me to come. I followed, curiosity burning now. "We have time. Come on, then," she encouraged. "It’s better that you ask the woman yourself."
