The car raced down the road much too fast to hurl myself out of it without ending up seriously injured. The lights winked by, reflecting off the dash in strips of yellow that flickered. I gripped the door and squeezed the handle, debating.
Edward's brow was knotted deep in thought. "I wanted to stay away. I wasn't—strong enough." His jaw flared as he clenched his teeth. "I'm still not strong enough."
He was merging onto the interstate. The car headlights flashed by like strobe lights as he weaved in and out of the lanes. A glance at the speedometer showed he was at eighty-five and climbing.
There was nowhere to go.
My head felt light and dizzy. There was nothing but the road outside the windshield and the glowing red brake lights of the cars ahead of us. Not even the display console was lit. The brief flashes of headlights only emphasized the darkness that surrounded me. I suddenly felt how narrow the space was between our seats.
I swallowed and moved my hand towards the gun at my side.
"I was weak. And you smelled—" he paused. "Even without breathing, I remembered your scent. It's burned in my mind. I hadn't had time to become... acclimated to it. And you were just a girl. The only thing holding me back was—I didn't want to be the reason we'd have to leave and start over somewhere else. But your blood—" His eyes narrowed. "I can't put into words how tempting you are."
The holster was clipped shut. A little band of leather was all that kept the gun in place. Could I pop it open without drawing his attention?
"I was fighting with myself, trying to hold back. Leaving was already impossible. But then you woke, and the air stirred with your scent as you moved. I was about to lunge when I realized you were armed." Edward smirked, as if the memory pleased him. "I knew that wouldn't stop me. You had no idea I was there. But you found me. You looked so certain as you fired." His smirk grew to a smile as his eyes narrowed with happiness. "I'd never been shot before," he mused. "The sound of the gun going off hurt more than the bullet. But it—shocked some sense into me."
The tip of my thumb was under the leather, my nail pressed against the metal of the clip. I wet my lips, waiting for some sound that might hide the click.
"So I left." Edward stared at the road for a long moment. "But I couldn't stay away. Even in Alaska, you haunted me. The girl who slept with a gun."
My hand stilled. Did he know that I was moving for it? I had to remember to breathe steadily.
"And then I return and discovered you hadn't told anyone of what had happened. You seemed perfectly normal." Edward's tone was filled with an echo of that initial amazement. "I didn't understand. I couldn't hear your thoughts, and I couldn't even rely on normal human behavior to tell me what to expect. You constantly surprise me," he said, bemused.
"Is that why I'm alive?" I asked, voice soft. "Because I surprise you?"
Edward's brows drew lower. "It became a reason not to give in. You weren't just a girl. You were Sarah Winchester. A mystery. And the more I learned about you, the more reasons I had to resist."
"Even after learning who my father was?"
"Especially then," he confirmed. "I was already invested in your survival." Edward gave me a censuring look. "I had no idea it would be so difficult to keep a single human alive and well."
My hand slipped away from my gun's holster. "You're not worried that I'm a hunter? At all?"
Edward's head tilted as he gave a lopsided, heart stopping smile. "No."
Spine stiffening, I grit my teeth. I felt the shift of my clothes against my skin as my muscles tensed. For the first time, I noticed the mile markers passing my window. "You should be," I said, my voice darkening as I thought of the machete in my room.
"We've run across hunters before," he revealed.
A chill ran up the back of my neck, all the way to my prickling scalp. "Did you kill them?"
"My family doesn't kill," he claimed. "We leave."
I turned to the passenger window, staring out at the signs passing by. "Why haven't you left, then?"
Edward was quiet for a moment. "I said I was staying," he said, soft and carefully worded, as if it was an admission. "They've decided to stay with me as long as they can."
"You're staying for me?" I had to be sure I understood this right.
Edward's eyes sought out mine and held them. "I feel very protective of you."
My nerves tingled as a warmth spread throughout my limbs that had nothing to do with the heater. "Because of my blood."
Edward's lips pressed together, brows knitting as he leaned his head away and put his narrowed eyes back on the road. "No." A moment later, he amended, "Not entirely."
This back and forth about my blood confused me. "I don't understand, Edward. Do you want to kill me or not?"
"No!" He insisted, face contorting into pain. Gritting his teeth, he added in a strained voice, "But I am what I am." His hands tightened on the wheel. "I can't trust myself."
I curled my hands into fists. "And what are you, Edward?" I asked softly.
He stared at the road. "You know what I am."
"I thought you couldn't read my mind."
His smile was self-deprecating. "I don't need to. You've seen enough."
The crinkle of the plastic bag around my books as I gripped them tight was the only thing interrupting the silence. "Vampire."
"Are you afraid?" he asked.
He had to hear the pounding of my heart. "Yes."
"Good."
The silence was deafening. It was so absolute I could hear the pounding of my pulse in my ears. "You say your family doesn't kill. How do you survive?"
"We feed on animals." Edward's mouth curled at the corner. "We call ourselves vegetarians. Our private joke."
"And that makes you safe?" I wondered.
Edward's brows lowered. "We're never entirely safe. The craving is always there."
Did I dare believe him? I stared out the window, trying to process all he'd told me. He thirsted for my blood but wanted to protect me. He drank animals instead of people. But that didn't make them any less dangerous.
But was Edward, or one of his family, responsible for the murdered man? Did he sate his bloodlust somewhere else? Or had one of the other Cullens fallen off the wagon.
"Why hunt animals at all?" I wondered aloud.
"I don't want to be a monster."
There was a world of longing behind his words. I couldn't help but want the same for him, too.
But he was a monster. One who even admitted to wanting my blood.
Yet, Edward wasn't just some creature—some evil thing. He had saved me, twice. He was intelligent and clearly loved his family. He wanted to be better than the beast his dark impulses tried to make him into.
I closed my eyes and leaned back into my seat, torn. But for the moment, it didn't matter. I hadn't taken my machete with me. Shooting him would do nothing but startle him, possibly causing a car accident. Innocent people could be killed. Provided he was telling the truth, I wasn't in any immediate danger.
By the time I opened my eyes and looked out, we were passing buildings again. Forks. We'd arrived in less than twenty minutes. I couldn't believe how little time had gone by. It seemed so much longer.
We were coming up to the sheriff's station when I noticed the myriad of flashing red and blue lights. Several cruisers and an ambulance were parked in the building's narrow lot. Something was clearly going on.
Edward leaned forward, eyes narrow. "That's my father's car at the end," he said, indicating a black BMW. Edward turned on his blinker and left the main road for the lot.
The interior of the car flickered with alternating red and blue lights as we drew closer to the emergency vehicles arrayed around the building. As Edward pulled into a parking space near the glass door, a familiar pale figure stepped out into the evening. Doctor Cullen carried a black leather bag. Upon noticing the Volvo, he unerringly found Edward.
Edward pushed open the door and stepped out of the car. Curious, I followed.
"Carlisle," Edward asked as he approached his foster father, "what's going on?"
Carlisle sighed. "Waylon Forge was found in a boat out near his place." He met Edward's stare. "I've just examined the body."
I frowned and tugged my jacket closer. "Why would they ask you out here in the middle of the night to examine a body?"
Carlisle's amber gaze fell to me. "Waylon was killed." His sights slid back to Edward. "Animal attack."
I snapped to. Beside me, Edward's eyebrows cinched together as their eyes met and held. "Animal attack," I repeated, skepticism lowering my voice.
"Afraid so," Carlisle replied seamlessly. He met my eyes without hesitance, just the right amount of concern in the tilt of his brows and slightest dip of his lips.
Carlisle Cullen was an excellent liar.
Before I could question him further, a familiar rumble drew closer. "Crap," I muttered, back and shoulders stiff as I slowly turned to look around Edward.
The Impala was coasting near the corner of the street. It was too dark to see inside, but I didn't have to see Dean's face to know he was driving. There was no way he'd let Sam behind the wheel.
"What?" Edward asked, starting to twist at the waist.
I grabbed his arm to stop him. "My brother's here." Edward turned towards me instead, brows still knit together in concern. I forced a smile. "I'll take care of it."
Edward's eyes were reluctant to leave mine. Eventually, he nodded.
Letting go of his arm, I nodded to Carlisle and turned about. Across the lot, the Impala made an imposing sight as it sat, still and rumbling, in the darkness. But for the soft red glow of the brake lights, it nearly blended into the night. I stopped at Edward's car just long enough to retrieve my bag before setting off. Sneakers tapping against the concrete, I crossed the lot at a fast clip, as quick as I could without outright jogging.
I bent over when I was close enough to peek in through the passenger window. Sure enough, Dean was inside, arm over the steering wheel, glaring at me. He lifted his other hand and crooked a finger.
I stood and grimaced before pulling the door open with a loud creak. A fortifying breath steadied me before I slipped inside.
The heater was blasting through the vents, chasing away the outside chill. I angled towards Dean as soon as I was settled against the leather and opened my mouth.
"Don't bother," he said, fixing me with a look that would brook no bullshit. One he'd picked up from Dad. His lips twisted into a smile that failed to reach his hard eyes. "I knew you were feeding me a bunch of crap."
"I did go to Port Angeles with Jessica and Angela," I insisted.
"Well," Dean said, sights slipping past me to stare out the passenger window. "They've gotten a lot broader in the shoulder, and a lot more male, since yesterday."
Desperate to get his attention off Edward, I summoned a pout. "I didn't say I'd stay with them."
Dean glared.
"I ran into him shopping, alright? We got talking. I was late to dinner so Jess and Angela took off. He offered to take me home." My nerves pulled tighter as Dean kept quiet. "Then he noticed his dad's car at the sheriff station." I spread my hands. "And here we are."
"Here we are," Dean mocked. He huffed another breath before ducking his head to take in at the building and all the vehicles. "You hear anything useful while you were cozying up with your boyfriend?"
"He's not my boyfriend," I muttered. Before Dean could say anything more, I nodded towards the ambulance. "His dad's the local doctor. They called him in to examine a body."
"Yeah. Found some poor bastard down near the docks," Dean replied, some of the anger giving way to business.
Quiet descended as the door opened and a body bag was rolled out on a stretcher. The E.M.T.'s carried it down to the pavement and then directed it to the waiting ambulance. I debated on repeating Carlisle's lie. Dean would know it was nonsense right away. It would only raise his suspicions.
I should tell him, though. About Edward and all the Cullens.
But would Dean care that they didn't feed on humans?
Why did I?
"His name was Waylon. Doctor Cullen said he was killed."
Dean waited until the body was loaded before shifting gears. "Where's the truck?"
"At Jessica's. I rode with her."
Dean let loose a hum before pulling away from the curb. His eyes followed the ambulance as we passed before redirecting to the road. I suddenly realized Dad hadn't sent Dean back just to babysit me and Sam.
Dean was still hunting.