Dean, Sam, and I were in the woods, following a trail of human footprints. Every so often Dean would point them out to me and ask, "What do you see?"
I'd reply, "Just a deer."
But Dean wouldn't believe me. He'd kept on the hunt. Sam and I followed like ducklings. The trail led to many monsters—shifters, wendigos, and the ghoul from the funeral home. Dean would tell me to kill each thing we found, and I would with ridiculous ease. A swing of my machete and they'd be dead.
At some point, the woods thinned into mounds of snow and frozen rivers. We followed the footprints through an arctic landscape. Edward waited at the end. He sat on top of his Volvo parked at the edge of a sheer cliff, overlooking a black sea. The bright green lights of the aurora borealis glowed above him in a midnight-blue sky dusted with stars. He was like a beautiful marble statue, too perfect to be real.
"Kill him," Dean ordered, exactly as he had before.
I approached from behind, aware in the way of dreams that Edward knew I was there. I had to climb onto the trunk, but it didn't give. When I was close enough to reach out and run my fingers through his hair, I raised my machete.
I couldn't let it fall.
"Kill him!" Dean demanded.
My arm wouldn't move. I stood behind Edward, machete raised, and trembled.
He turned. "Sarah," Edward said, sounding sad, eyes black as coal. His mouth stretched impossibly wide as he snarled. I still couldn't move. He lunged.
As he knocked me down, I heard Sam's dry voice observe, "Your boyfriend's killing you."
I woke, Sam's words a haunting echo in my mind. I tried to shake them off, but they mixed with Edward's confession. Sitting up in the bed, I rubbed my face and sought out the window. It was still dark outside. Sadly, I was wide awake with an aching throat.
I readied myself for the day and still had hours before school. And Edward. I had my plan to carry out but couldn't ignore what was said. He'd taken human life.
The knowledge kept stealing my attention, causing me to stop and pause, to breathe and think. He'd said only men guilty of horrible crimes—but did that justify it? He had been driven by bloodlust. Wasn't the rest just an excuse to ease his conscience?
Could monsters have a conscience?
It was confusing. I had only my upbringing to guide me. By the philosophy of Dad and Dean, the only good monster was a dead one. I'd thought I believed that too. Then one had saved me.
It was simpler believing he'd never given in to the bloodlust. Still not black and white anymore, but on the lighter side. Now it was all on a steady downward slide towards the other end. Things were easier before I'd noticed all these shades of gray.
I dug my winter scarf from the bottom of my duffle, uncertain how I was going to get away with wearing it all day every day until my bruising went down. Not that I was much for trends and styles—there was no way to be a fashionista on a scam budget (and not get caught)—but I did like to dress somewhat normal. I supposed fielding looks was the price I'd pay for skipping into a ghoul's lair unprepared. Considering the alternative, it wasn't much of a price at all, really.
Since Dean still had the couch, I pulled open my backpack and attempted to do some homework. It went about as well as I expected. Which was to say not very. But making the attempt was a step up from not handing anything in.
By the time I heard Sam enter the bathroom, I packed the homework away and went downstairs.
Dean was still laying on the couch, on his stomach, television on. I tried to sneak past but ended up noticing his eyes were cracked open with the machete in hand before I reached the archway. He frowned and slid the machete back under the couch before closing his eyes. I hurried into the kitchen, glad to be spared the worst of grumpy Dean.
Eating was painful. Each swallow felt as if I were shoving food through a way too narrow, tender ring of bruises. I managed half my cereal before giving in to the worsening ache.
Sam joined me a half hour later and I waited with him while he ate. It was time to leave after he was done rinsing his bowl in the sink.
Dean continued to ignore us in favor of sleeping as we hurried past, exiting into another dim gray morning. The drive to school was filled with music from the radio. At the parking lot, I noticed Edward's Volvo but no sign of the vampire himself. Part of me was relieved not to have to deal with him, but I was disappointed too—which made me question how close I was getting.
I had exited the truck, wondering if I was too compromised to see clearly, and was gathering my bag when I turned and found myself face to face with the smallest of the Cullen clan. I took a startled step back.
Despite my reaction, she boasted a smile that shone in her eyes, making them the color of warm, sunlit honey. "Hi. I'm Alice." Her voice was as lilting and musical as her brother's. I wondered if it was a vampire thing.
"Um, hi." I could feel Sam's curious stare as he climbed out of the cab.
Alice's gaze fell to my neck, and I stiffened. "I thought you might need this," she went on in the same friendly manner, either oblivious to the tension radiating off me or ignoring it. She held up her hands.
Folded across her the white palms was a beautiful scarf. The red and black fabric shimmered even in Fork's dim light.
"It'll look cute with your jacket," she added. She inched her hands and the scarf towards me. "Here."
Bemused, I lifted the offering and blinked at the way the fabric slid across my skin. Silk. "This looks really expensive."
Alice shrugged. "I haven't worn it. It's not my usual style." Her eyes took on a faraway look as she added, "I only knew I needed to buy it when I saw it." She blinked, refocusing on my neck again. Her voice took on a knowing tone as she added, "Sometimes we have to trust that we'll know what to do when the time comes." Her smile turned impish as she added, "Like giving you this scarf."
I wasn't sure how to refuse a psychic gift, so I accepted my fate. I unwound my chunky winter scarf and placed it on the cab seat before draping Alice's gift around my neck. The silk felt cool against my skin as it slid into place, and it was so light it didn't disturb my bruises. I carefully wrapped the ends around each other before tucking them under my jacket.
Alice's elfin face lit up with delight. "Perfect," she decided.
It was impossible not to find her enthusiasm infectious. I smiled. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, Sarah." Her expression turned serious. "I'm glad you're alright."
I shifted my feet. "Me too."
The grave cast to her face lifted as quickly as it had fallen, and the lighter mien was back. "See you later." The way she said it made it sound more like a promise than a casual goodbye between strangers. Alice waved and walked off with that same odd grace all the Cullens had.
I made my way after, only to be stopped at the back of the truck by Sam as he wondered, "Who was that?"
"Edward's sister Alice," I explained, reaching up and touching the scarf.
As we walked to our classes, I wondered if Alice had ever given in to her bloodlust like Edward had. If she was the one responsible for the security guard and Waylon Forge. She didn't look or act like a killer, but neither had the ghoul until it had attacked.
The thought haunted me through the rest of the morning.
In Trig, Jessica complimented my scarf. I didn't mention it was a gift from Alice. If I had, I'd have more impossible questions to answer.
All too soon, the bell for lunch rang. I gathered my bag, forcing myself to get out of my seat and move with the rest of the class to the door. Jessica was wondering if she should ask Dean to the Spring dance. It was a testament to how distracted I was that I didn't try to change the subject.
Finding Edward waiting outside, just as he had the day before—which already seemed a lifetime away—evoked both relief and a new tension. He stood straighter at my appearance, joining me as Jess walked away with a look promising another soon-to-come interrogation.
Edward's eyes were full of emotion. Too much to hope to decipher. He glanced at the scarf, brows constricting.
People were staring as they passed. "C'mon," I said, starting down the sidewalk. Edward followed wordlessly.
We kept quiet all the way to the cafeteria, tethered by a different tension than before. A tension filled with too much left unspoken that was fit to burst at the first wrong word.
This time, when Edward took a tray, I grabbed his hand before it could pick up the strawberry milk. The shock of cold skin drew our gazes. His darted away first, lips pressed together and brows drawn low. I plucked up a bottle of tea instead, placing it down on his tray. His shoulders relaxed, his sights returned, watching as I chose lunch. I said nothing as he paid.
Our table, as I'd already come to think of it, was again devoid of either his family or the friends I'd made. We sat across from one another. Edward watched as I chose the macaroni. Swallowing was as uncomfortable at lunch as it'd been at breakfast. Having his sights fixed on me helped give me the incentive not to wince. It still felt like downing bowling balls.
"I'm sorry."
I paused, spork halfway to my mouth. Carefully I set it down. Edward's hands were folded, his fingers whiter than the rest of his already pale skin. His eyes shone, earnest and sorrowful. Something in his still form was almost too stiff, as if a tap on the shoulder might make him crumble.
He went on. "But I can't stand the thought of you in danger." The muscles in his face tightened, as if even the memory caused agony.
"Any apology followed by a but is worth ass," I muttered. Pretty sure I'd heard that from Bobby at some point, but it was worth stealing.
Edward's lips pressed even firmer together, until they nearly disappeared. After a moment, he nodded. "You're right. There's no excuse for the harsh things I said. I should have controlled myself better."
I blew out a breath and grabbed my tea. As I unscrewed it, I said, "Yeah, well. Lots of things could've gone better last night." That was the truest thing I could think to say without the risk of pushing Edward away.
Edward looked to his hands for a moment. "Not knowing where you were when I saw what was happening—" his jaw flared. His eyes flew up to meet mine. "You shouldn't have gone."
I gripped the glass bottle. "Yeah. We already started this talk." I fixed him with a poignant look. "You really want to go down this road again?"
Edward turned his head away. His jaw flared again. "No." After a moment spent glaring across the cafeteria, he turned back. "You won't be dissuaded?"
"You may as well ask me to stop breathing." I stared back, defiant. "I'm a hunter. Take it or leave it." I took a swig of tea... and immediately regretted how large a gulp it had been as I struggled to swallow all of it down my smarting throat.
Edward's eyes narrowed. "Then, next time, take me with you."
I nearly spat out my drink. My eyes widened. "To hunt?"
Edward nodded.
"No way," I blurted. A few of the seniors at the other end of the table looked over. I leaned forward and lowered my voice. "I can't take you hunting, Edward."
His brows dove over the bridge of his nose. "Why not?"
I stared. "You're—you," I said, waving a hand. Somehow, his brows managed to go even lower. I set my bottle down, wondering how my life had taken another absurd turn so quickly after the last. It was starting to feel as if things were careening out of control.
"This is the compromise," Edward insisted. His brow ticked up. "Alice will know if you intend to hunt again. And then I'll know." His lips curled slightly. "Asking me along saves time."
This did not make me feel any better. Did she know I was hunting now? Gritting my teeth, I glared before asking, "And how do I explain you to Dean? Or Sam?"
"I can follow without being seen," Edward proposed.
I gripped my spork tighter before stabbing a noodle. Lips pinched together, I had to relax my mouth long enough to say, "This is ridiculous."
Edward leaning towards me drew my attention from my plate. "Nothing is more important to me than your safety."
"That's what everyone says." I forced another bite, glaring at the hapless noodles. No one made this much of a fuss over Dean. "I'm not some delicate flower."
A small smile lifted the corners of Edward's lips. "From my perspective, all humans are."
I redirected my glare. This time, he was unrepentant as he stared back. I returned to my meal as I muttered, "I don't plan on hunting anymore ghouls, anyway."
"Good." There was a world of relief in that one word.
I wanted to ask more about his confession, but the middle of a busy cafeteria wasn't the place to discuss his past murders. "Will you tell me anything else about Saturday?"
A troubled shadow fell over his face before he smoothed his expression. "We'll be hiking."
So not only alone, but alone in the middle of the vast wilderness surrounding Forks. If it weren't for his protectiveness, I'd have suspected he was trying to get me alone to drain me.
A darker notion occurred to me then. Perhaps he didn't want anything else to get to me first.
"You really should tell your brothers," he said softly, as if he had read my mind.
I should. Edward was not innocent. "Sam knows we're close." I sought him out as I admitted his role. Sam was sitting among a group of Sophomores, listening to another boy talking animatedly. If something happened, Sam would tell Dean. Dean would tell Dad. They'd take care of it.
The notion shouldn't have been as painful as it was. My mind tried to shy from it, but I thought of the machete in my truck. Would it be more responsible to let Dad and Dean deal with Edward? Or just cowardly?
Edward was watching, his usual intense stare, as if soaking up every moment with me. He had just finished telling me how important my safety was to him, yet here I was wondering if I could go through with killing him or if I should pass the job off to someone else.
I'd have to hack him apart. I tried to picture swinging the machete at his neck, replacing the ghoul's head from the night before with Edward's—
My chest constricted as my stomach twisted. Unbidden, my eyes started to burn. I looked to the side and swallowed. Hoped the pain in my throat would distract me from the sudden harm I'd done with a mere thought.
I summoned the nightmare, the clear vision of Edward lunging towards me, mouth open and teeth shining white. His breath would be as cool as his hands—if he breathed at all.
I rubbed my face.
I knew being a hunter wouldn't be easy, but no one had ever prepared me for this.
I blinked back the gathering tears and speared another noodle.
"But not Dean?"
I sighed, glancing up. "Not Dean." The sudden dip of Edward's brows demonstrated his displeasure with my answer. I remembered Dean swinging his machete. It had been a clean kill. "Are you so eager to die?" My words were soft, but sharp.
Intense emotion was back in Edward's stare. "If I ever did something to hurt you? Absolutely."
I dropped my own stare back to the tray, grip tightening until the plastic handle started to bend.
What monster would say that?
I looked back up, searching for some hint of deception—but Edward looked nothing but earnest.
It was almost too much to hear. I didn't know what to do with his declaration. A vampire who'd rather die than drink my blood.
I drew a deep breath, trying to calm my mind. Or, at the very least, my heart. I forced a smile. "You don't ever do small talk, do you?" I was pleased when my voice came out normal.
Edward blinked before leaning back. The small, amused smile was back. "I could. I have questions."
"Questions?" I'd meant to try and lighten the mood, but now I was cautious of what would come next.
He took me completely off guard as he asked, "What's your favorite color?"
"My favorite—" I paused, shaking my head. I started to laugh but stopped at the flare of pain from my neck. "Um, red."
He grinned, as if this small tidbit delighted him. "Your favorite movie?"
I pursed my lips in thought. "I don't know if I could pick one," I settled on after a moment.
"Then name the ones that come to mind."
I shrugged as I took a bite, taking the opportunity to think as I chewed. "A little of everything, I guess. I like Aliens and Back to the Future. I love Toy Story Two. Tangled. Finding Nemo makes me cry," I admitted with a wry smile that Edward returned. "I always watch the Wizard of Oz when it's on. And the Godfather. I think Legally Blonde is a genuine classic. Fury Road was amazing." I arched a brow. "Is that a good enough list?"
"To start," he replied.
The rest of our lunch was spent with Edward quizzing me on the rest of my likes and dislikes. He seemed determined to wring every bit of esoteric information out of me. It lasted all the way to Biology, and even after we sat at the lab table, he kept on quizzing me until Mr. Banner walked in.
He was pushing the television and VCR before him again. Edward shifted his seat further away—a move which might have offended me before yesterday's class. Now I was grateful.
Not that the extra space helped. I was still aware of him, still felt that electricity. Had the desperate wish he'd close the space between us. Only this time, it was mixed up with all my worries and fears. They all swirled together until I felt I might go mad from the overwhelming blend of emotions as my head warred with my heart. By the time the lights flickered on, I realized nothing was going to be simple with Edward.
I was definitely in way over my head.