- - мy aяcнιvεs

[- - la nuit blanche]

Despite Evey’s near hopeless predicament, she felt a tiny flame of pride sputter within her as she spat those last words into Jason’s face. Jacques had done more than threaten her with her own fate as Brewer’s intended wanton bride; he’d shown her a way out. Not an ideal one, of course, but he’d explained to her that it was indeed possible to fight the effects of one’s Siring, and that was precisely what Evey would do. It didn’t matter how excruciating the pain was, how unbearable. So long as she had a choice, even one of eternal pain and madness, she’d never give into these beasts. It was bad enough that she’d already been once spoiled by Jason before Edward’s appearance in her life. As soon as she’d fallen in love with him, she cursed herself for ever having touched another man. Not necessarily out of some prudish regard for her purity, but because she detested the thought of anyone else having grown so acquainted with her body. She belonged to Edward. She was his, even if they still had yet to consummate their love. And she’d never let anyone else ever touch her again.

With a defiant stubbornness glinting in her eyes, Evelyn tried to wrench her wrists out of Jason’s grip. He let her go with a sneer and gave her a small shove as he discarded her arms from his hands, chuckling darkly again as she stumbled backwards, nearly falling from the force of his effortless push. Then he advanced on her again, parting his pale lips to speak. Evey knew what he would say. He’d assure her that she’d have to give into him sometime, and every night she didn’t, he’d simply take what he wanted by force. And yet, the words didn’t come. Or, if they did, they were drowned out by a sharp crashing and shattering of glass from above. Everything happened so quickly, Evey hardly had enough time to gasp in surprise before Jason was being thrust across the room before her, and another man appeared at her side. She started to feel his arm coil protectively about her waist and she almost attempted to shove him away, but first she looked up to the stranger’s face. He wasn’t looking back down at her, but rather glaring fiercely towards Moreau, though in the blink of an eye, Evey recognized him.

“Edward,” she stammered feebly, her broken voice hardly audible. She found herself guarded just behind the man’s shoulder, clutching at his arm as he backed them both away from the advancing predator. And yet, Evey seemed only half aware of Moreau, hardly even seeming to hear the words being spoken around her. She wondered if this was Heaven. Had Jason killed her for her insolence? The petite brunette hugged onto Edward’s arm, hid her face against the back of his shoulder and sighed. He smelled just as she remembered, felt exactly as she knew he would. Sturdy, chiseled, and comforting despite the cold of his skin. New tears were spilling down her cheeks. This must be Heaven. How else could they be together again? How could she feel so safe once more?

And yet, the delusion that she had died lasted only an instant. With her next breath, Evey opened her eyes and saw before her a bright flare, bursting sparks of golden yellow and orange, alighting the furious pale face of Jacques Moreau as he stepped ever nearer. She was not dead, not yet. But Edward was indeed there with her, defending her from Moreau’s cruel gaze, threatening to burn the building to ash, just as he’d done the one called Ami and her companion. Evelyn was jolted back to reality and watched as Jacques suddenly slowed his advance. She felt lighter than air as Edward led her back towards the nearest exit, somehow certain now that the nightmare would end, that they would leave this place safely, together and unharmed. But not all obstacles had been cleared just yet. Out of nowhere Jason appeared behind Edward, about to attack. But her Edward was much faster. Evey’s mind could barely process how quickly he’d reacted before she was simply left to see the flare half extinguished in Jason’s hand and to hear the blond vampire howl in pain. She was scarcely aware of her legs moving then, as Edward hurried her from the warehouse into the rain.

She stammered his name again as the rainwater mixed with the tears lingering on her cheeks and she hastily searched the man for any injuries. She wanted more than anything for him to hold her again, to simply pick her up and whisk her away to someplace warm and dry, where she could wait for her head to stop spinning and fall peacefully to sleep in his arms. She was so tired, so emotionally exhausted and so scared, but so relieved that he was alive… or whatever the proper term was. But as she stumbled forward to embrace him, he nudged her firmly away and once again she struggled to bring her mind back to reality. They were not safe yet, and Edward was telling her something important. Evey looked down at the car keys in her hand. “Head due north,” he’d said. Swallowing hard, the girl nodded faintly, her response a little delayed. And then she heard him say he loved her, and the clouds in her mind began to clear. The confusion and haze that had arrived with the realization that Edward had not been destroyed, that she would not be hopelessly lost to the wills of Jason and Moreau, suddenly lifted. She smiled up to those golden eyes and gave a more deliberate nod this time. Swallowing again, she tried to find her voice. She could respond with only one desperate plea, hoarse and quivering slightly. “Hurry.”

Then she turned and hurried on her way to the truck, knowing that Edward had given her an order for their own good and that she ought to follow it. But at the corner, she was forced to pause. She heard the shriek of metal being torn and looked back to see Jason advancing on Edward once more. Impulse urged her to run back to him but she’d made it barely two steps before hearing her beloved yell imploringly for her to go. Reluctantly Evey obeyed and ran to the truck. With hands trembling, she yanked the car door open and threw herself into the driver’s seat. But she couldn’t leave, not yet. She had to do something. Fumbling around through every compartment of the truck, Evey searched for another flare, praying that there was at least one left. She could hear her breath coming in rapid spurts as she continued to search. Finally, buried beneath the passenger seat, her hand closed around a plastic tube. She grabbed it tight then raced out of the truck to a window. It was stained and cracked, but when Evey looked through, she saw exactly what she’d expected to see. Moreau’s makeshift study, but happily Jacques himself was nowhere in sight. She grabbed a piece of twisted metal from the ground, some sort of pipe, or maybe a heavy wrench, she didn’t contemplate it long before lifting it in her hands and thrashing it hard against the window. The glass broke enough for her to fit her arm in between the remaining shards, pop the top off the flare, and throw the sparkling flame into the study, aiming for the case of Moreau’s precious books. Evey waited only long enough to see the first shelf light into well-fed flames, then yanked her arm out of the window to race back to the car. She hoped the fire would at least cause some distraction, enough to allow Edward to get away.

As Evey slammed the car door closed behind her and shoved in the key, she could feel something hot and sticky soaking through the sleeve of her blouse. As the engine came to life, she looked down to see a bloody slice along the underside of her right forearm. She must’ve caught herself on the window’s broken glass when she pulled out her arm. But the stinging pain was of no consequence now. Evey threw her foot down on the gas and raced away from the warehouse, heading as directly north as she could manage. Uncontrollable tears were still trickling from her eyes but she didn't sob. She looked resolutely down the road, biting at her bottom lip and glancing anxiously into the rear view mirror every few moments.

[- - la nuit blanche]

As Evey drove, staring blankly down the dark road before her, the wheels of her mind spun franticly within her head, pausing only when instants of fear caught between the gears, momentarily blocking and muddling her thoughts. She thought mainly of Edward, wondering whether or not he was safe, if he’d be able to take down Jason alone. Would Jacques come to fight him as well? With a vague smirk, Evey considered that perhaps Moreau would be too busy watching his lair go up in flames, with all his books as kindling beneath the fire, to enter the scrap himself. Honestly, had Edward really thought that she’d simply run when he told her to, leave him behind to fend entirely for himself? She wasn’t stupid enough to attempt attacking Jason alongside him, but she’d done what she could. If nothing else, Moreau’s research would be set back a couple eons, and hopefully the fire would spread enough to cause some diversion, allowing Edward to get away. But nothing was for certain. Edward could get lost in the fire himself, he could be outnumbered by the other fledgling vampires, should they be drawn back to the warehouse. Evelyn had a horrible vision of Jacques and Brewer tearing away Edward’s limbs and tossing them into the flames she’d created to help him. Perhaps she should’ve just run quietly away after all.

As her stomach churned within her, Evey’s fingers kneaded tightly at the steering wheel and attempted to turn her thoughts to some other matter. She tried to remember what Edward had said to Jacques before Jason rushed up to attack, what he’d said about how the Siring had affected him. Evey had been too disorientated to process that information at the time. All she’d managed to make out was that Ami had taken on a great deal of pain from Edward, and had accidentally thrust it upon her comrade, which gave Edward a chance to destroy them both. “The same pain I’ve felt all my life…” Evey remembered that part too. She remembered feeling a deep sorrow when he spoke those words. She didn’t want Edward to be in pain, to have been in pain all his long years. And this was the effect of his Siring. He was in agony when he couldn’t love and care for his family, love and care for her…

For her. Evey managed the tiniest of smiles at this thought. She even felt her cheeks flush slightly. From what she understood – which was, admittedly, minimal at best, though nonetheless accurate – this all meant that Edward needed her, needed to love her. When his father had sired him, he’d instilled within him a capacity for compassion, with a love that he needed to give to another. And he’d chosen her. So when they were forced apart, when Ami had forced him not to love her, not allowed him to, he was pushed against his very nature. And when they were reunited again, his pain went away. She took it away, it seemed. And Evey would never want it otherwise. If anything about her took his pain away, she would remain his forever.

It was a blissful sort of realization, but as the drenched brunette glanced warily back up into the rearview mirror once again, she remembered that neither she, nor her beloved were safe just yet. She drew in a long breath, a heavy intake of air meant to calm and soothe, although it only hitched and quivered and fled her lips in a sharp, half whimpered exhale. She felt an absolute mess. She was trembling with fear, shivering from the cold of being soaked by rainwater, and she’d bet she hadn’t a touch of color in her complexion. Furthermore, the blood dripping from her arm was making her a bit squeamish, and all the more frightened as she wondered if Jacques or any of his recruits would attempt to track her. Surely they could smell her fresh blood a mile away.

On this note, Evey glanced again into each of the car mirrors, and gasped a little to see a pale figure racing up alongside the truck. She slammed her foot on the gas but the creature had already yanked open the passenger side door and swung himself into the seat. Evey’s heart raced, laboring with each frightened beat, and she yelped a little when she heard the car door opening and closing swiftly after. But then she glanced away from the road to the man beside her, and relief swept over her instantly.

“You’re alright…” she stammered, fumbling to find her voice. Her throat still felt choked with sobs and her mouth was parched. And yet with Edward’s presence and the notion that they were finally alone again together, she felt almost… better. Back to normal. The horrors she’d seen that night, the emotional wearing, it all seemed lessened, or at least somehow accepted. Now that she had him beside her, she could cope. And now that she could look at him, she stared. To see him safe, smiling tentatively her way… It was the most perfect sight in the world. She smiled back until she felt the car beginning to drift slightly, and hastened her attention back to the road. It was never very easy to look away from him.

“Only once or twice?” she answered, hoping to sound playfully disappointed although her voice still quivered a little. She paused a moment, trying to calm herself enough so that the next time she spoke she didn’t sound quite so fragile. Wetting her lips, she cleared her throat softly then smiled down the road. “Well, after what you’ve done for me, I owe you at least a thousand kisses, as soon as I’ve stopped this car.” Glancing back over, she drew her smile towards him, although that tiny grin began with wither almost instantly. “If you hadn’t come…” She didn’t want to finish that sentence, and she knew she didn’t have to. Turning back to look at the street, she blinked a few tears from her eyes. If he hadn’t been able to save her, they’d have been parted forever.

Evey continued to drive in silence, hands growing a little more steady upon the steering wheel, no longer trembling quite so violently. When the thought that perhaps they were being followed faded slightly from her mind, she drew one hand off the wheel and reached to Edward’s fingers, clasping gingerly, almost hesitantly onto them.

[

[- - la nuit blanche]

Evey was struggling hard to keep her eyes on the road, her heartbeat steady. She was still quite jumpy after the events of that evening, perhaps quite rightly so, and yet she was made all the more restless by the simple, completely unthreatening fact that Edward was now sitting beside her. She yearned to move ever closer, ached to bury herself in his arms and sob for joy. However, for now, a soft kiss upon her hand was enough to suffice. Besides, she hadn’t forgotten about that bloody scrape on her arm, or what temptation that could be to the man sitting at her side. When both hands were placed back upon the wheel, she drew her injured right arm in, pressing the wound into her stomach with the hope that this might stifle the alluring smell of the red liquid seeping through her sleeve. She hated to put Edward in any conflict or pain, and yet at least outwardly, he was managing any struggle quite well. And, she silently humored herself with the thought that at this moment, Edward may prefer to hold and kiss her senseless rather than drink up all her blood and let her die. He hadn’t thrown himself through a roof to save her just to make her his evening snack. Simply put, she trusted and believed in him, knew without a doubt that he’d never allow himself to hurt her. Of course that didn’t make her feel any less guilty for tempting him in the first place, and though she was not afraid, she was anxious to patch up that arm as soon as possible.

Fortunately Edward had apparently come prepared. Evey glanced over to see the first aid kit in his hands, along with a note which he stashed away in his pocket. She wondered inquisitively what it might have said, who it could’ve been from, but for now it didn’t much matter. With a nod, she lifted herself up from the driver’s seat and held the steering wheel steady as Edward slid into place beneath her. Perched momentarily on his lap, Evelyn allowed herself a tiny, inward smile. She wouldn’t have minded staying put there for a good while longer, but when the car began to drift, she allowed the man to slide her gingerly off into the passenger seat so he could drive. She felt the car lurch forward with a little more speed and she gave him a faintly disapproving glance. It wasn’t that she was uncomfortable with him at the wheel, but rather that he might bring some attention to them if a policeman caught them speeding. Although, after a moment’s pause, Evey realized that he could probably detect the thoughts of any law enforcement agent in the area so well as he could hear her own mind working at his side. Without bothering to chide him, Evey opened up the first aid kit and fingered through it for a long strip of gauze and the disinfectant. Rolling up her bloody, half shredded sleeve, she turned away from Edward to survey the damage. The bleeding had begun to slow and while it wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t terribly severe either. No bits of glass were stuck in her skin, and after dabbing the cut with the disinfectant, hissing faintly at the stinging pain it brought, she wound the gauze about her forearm, fastened it hastily, and stashed the supplies back into the little white box.

Now that she was bandaged up, she wanted more than ever to hug a bit closer to the man at her side, but she left him to concentrate on the road. And anyway, at the speed he was going, it wasn’t long before they were inching towards the very fringe of the city and finally rolling up to a quaint little inn. While the fellow in the lobby must’ve wondered why the two youngsters were so disheveled, he asked only for Edward’s credit card and sent them to their room with no further questions. Evey wasn’t sure how safe they’d be there, or for how long, but the room was warm and dry and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, she was comfortable. As Edward bolted the door, she waited a little awkwardly behind him, kneading her hands absently until he turned towards her again. It wasn’t a second later that he’d finally offered her precisely what she’d been waiting for. As he lulled her into his arms and drew her lips to his, the brunette’s keen blue eyes drifted immediately shut and she stepped up onto her tiptoes, fervently crushing her lips back against his. Her hands lifted to his face, resting there a moment until they stopped their frantic quivering. She kissed him so ardently she felt out of breath in seconds, her heart racing excitedly within her chest, leaping each time she caught his lip needily between her teeth or felt his tongue weave warmly about her own. As a hand scooped into his hair, she finally drew her mouth away and engulfed herself desperately in his embrace. Her head rested in against his shoulder and her free arm wrapped up around his neck, hugging so tightly that it might’ve been fortuitous the man had no need to breathe. Her own breath came trembling slightly and out of sheer relief and contentment, tears had begun gathering in her eyes once again.

“I’ll never understand why you love me,” she murmured, her voice slightly muffled between moist, desperate kisses along the side of his neck. “…but please. Don’t stop.” She remembered how it felt when she saw Ami with her arms locked around him, unsure whether he was enjoying it, if he’d be able to fight her off, if he even wanted to. To even consider that perhaps he didn’t really love her, it was earth-shattering. The former Evey, the one who had not yet come to believe in destiny, would have thought herself so stupid for feeling so lost in herself, just because she’d thought for an instant that perhaps Edward’s feelings were not so strong as her own. After being victim to unrequited affection for the unworthy Jason some time after their sordid evening together, she’d promised never to define herself by a boy again, to let his feelings ruin her. But it was all different with Edward. She loved him in a way she could never love another man, because he loved and needed her so desperately as well. She felt she’d never be able to survive the loss should he ever change his mind, come to his senses.

Drawing back enough to look up into his eyes, she sniffled slightly and smiled a bit. “If you hadn’t come…” she began slowly. “I’d have fought them every day. I’d have resisted Jason every night, no matter what... what he did to me. I thought that, even if I’d never see you again, I’d rather take the pain than give myself to someone else… I can’t belong to anyone but you. I won't.”

As she nestled her face back in against his chest, she felt a little shiver race up her spine and then she realized, sadly, that she was freezing cold and still dripping wet from the rain. She tried to bear the cold of his skin anyway, resting close into him, but when a more persistant shiver hurried up from her toes, she realized that standing against a man with the body temperature of an ice cube surely wasn't going to help her. With a last kiss to Edward's alabaster cheek, she slipped deftly from his arms and smiled apologetically. "I'll be right back," she promised, knowing that she wouldn't need to explain that she simply wanted to get herself a little warmer. She hurried away to the bathroom, stripped off her clothes and leapt into a hot shower. In seven minutes flat, the water shut off and she emerged from the steamy bathroom, huddled in a dry, quilted bathrobe. Her clothes had been left to dry out, seeing as she wouldn't have a new change of clothes until they could return to her home. As she stepped back into the bedroom, her mind felt hazy from the heat; she'd purposely attempted to overheat herself a little, just so she'd be that much more relieved to have the soothing cool of Edward's skin back around her again. Wringing the last drops of water from her damp hair, she peeked eagerly around for him.

[- - la nuit blanche]

Stepping lightly upon her barefooted toes, Evey crept from the warm, vaporous bathroom into the bedroom, peering around in search of Edward. Now that they could be together again, leaving him for any amount of time – even the less-than-ten minutes it had taken her to bathe and warm herself – was irritatingly unbearable. She felt somehow emptied every time she had to leave the strong hold of his arms, as if she were no longer whole, no longer entirely herself. She wondered at how she’d ever felt normal, able to function at all, before he’d come to love her. Smiling almost foolishly at these thoughts, the damp brunette stepped to the little hall that led into the tiny living room, where she saw Edward, deliciously shirtless, attempting to wring the rainwater from his white button-up. Though she still longed for his embrace, being able just to look at him was almost enough. Her eyes graciously admired the man’s bared torso, sculpted, impeccably chiseled, and built with a firm layer of lean muscle. She craved every inch of that perfect, pale flesh, wanted nothing more than to touch him, fingers trembling with care, as she memorized each flawless plane of his body. Leaning her weight softly into the plaster wall, she allowed herself a little daydream in the few seconds before he turned to catch her wistful gaze. She imagined him lying beneath her, his upper half as nude as it was now, while she explored the new, bare territory with tentative hands and soft lips. She blazed a trail of languid kisses down from his collarbones, nuzzling her nose and cheeks fondly to his chest then continuing down, down to drag more deliciously slow, sultry kisses over the sinewy muscles of his abdomen, her puffs of breath heated against his cool skin. She felt his graceful fingers wind appreciatively into her hair and her heart leapt with excited anticipation when her anxious lips reached the waistband of the jeans that sat low around his hips…

As usual, she was sure Edward’s warm, amber gaze saw right through to the intimate thoughts in her head, but Evey seemed to mind a little less now. She looked a little sheepish when he turned towards her – leaving his replaced shirt unbuttoned, likely for her own benefit – though not as embarrassed or ashamed as she’d always been before. Perhaps it was because she’d noticed the way he was looking back and admiring her own figure, deplorable as she thought it next to his. Nevertheless, he seemed pleased to find that only a loose-fitting robe stood between his eyes and her bare skin, and that flattery was surely a bit of a comfort. But, even if Evey hadn’t caught him appreciating the sight of her, she still wouldn’t have been so fidgety when it came to the notion of him reading her more personal thoughts and wishes. In fact, now she was almost glad he could see them. There was nothing lewd in the way she longed for him, nothing grotesque or even very shocking at all. And after their separation, after the pain and fear it had caused them both, she wasn’t even reluctant to let him know, to let him see, how she still loved and needed him.

She took a step forward to meet him, but in the blink of an eye, he was already before her, bending not to kiss her, but to sweep her up, effortlessly into his arms. Evey hadn’t been expecting this and she gave a tiny gasp of delighted surprise when her feet had suddenly been carried out from under her. Though Edward’s able arms surely hadn’t any trouble supporting her slight form, one of her arms instinctively leapt up around his neck and her other hand caught on to grasp at his shirt to hold herself steady. But, almost instantly, both her arm and her fingers loosened and she relaxed into his hold, knowing full well that she had no reason to fear that she might fall when it was his arms that were holding her up. Grinning, she laughed a little and let her slender legs kick lazily, back and forth through open space as Edward held them up with his arm beneath her knees. Her own arm remained draped about his shoulders, all the better to help hug her in against his chest so she could press a few kisses to his neck while he walked her to the bed.

As soon as her body touched the mattress, she scooted over to make room for him to join her, relaxing back into the pillows only when he’d slid over to her side and hovered just a tiny bit above her. Looking up into his handsome eyes, she listened attentively to his whispered words. Her own eyes grew sad, even apologetic when he mentioned the pain he’d felt when he thought he’d lost her forever, that he’d felt and grown used to that pain every day he lived without her. But her expression lifted faintly again when he added that he’d only ever felt at peace when he was with her, and that neither of them were allowed to feel undeserving of what they shared. She grinned a bit and drew a hand up to touch his perfect face, tracing the pad of her thumb lightly across the small cleft of his chin as he continued. If he thought she might hear some triteness in the words he spoke, something cheesy or sappy, he was quite mistaken. She could hear honest meaning in every syllable, and each one touched her even more than the one that had come before. And when at last he concluded, pressing his full, soft lips back to her own, she couldn’t stop the tears that came from the happiness he’d moved into her with those words. He was hers, and at last she’d found someone to whom she could belong, someone who would cherish her love and passion, and return every inch of it in kind. She never thought she’d ever be fortunate enough to receive love like this.

As he kissed her, Evey let her hand fall from his face to draw her arm around his middle. She coaxed him insistently closer to herself, yearning to feel him lay against her. She didn’t care if his steel bones weighed ten tons, if his stony body could crush her with its concrete mass; she needed him closer. There was nothing at that moment she needed more. She even lifted her head from the pillow so that she could press her lips a little more closely against his, aching to drink in, to absorb every bit of his kiss. A tiny shiver raced up to the crown of her head, but this time it had nothing to do with wet clothes or body temperature. It was a minute but well-noticed quake of delight which had originated somewhere just above the knee, where Edward’s hand wandered, entirely welcome, beneath her bathrobe and along her thigh. Her own hand drifted down to meet it, not to push away or even to urge it a little further, but simply to join it, to savor the touch of his fingers as he savored the feel of her bare leg. Her hand laid atop his for a moment and she sighed pleasantly into their kiss, then moved her fingers to hold loosely around his forearm, letting him have his hand back to touch her as he wanted.

It was here that she somewhat hindered their kiss with a smile, a tiny grin she couldn’t suppress, accompanied by a soft, warm giggle as she withdrew just slightly. Her arm moved from around his waist so that her hand could rest gingerly to his chest, eagerly warming to the bare skin she’d been admiring just moments ago. “I wish I could read your mind…” she murmured thoughtfully, fondly brushing the tip of her nose to his. She wondered what he was thinking, what his daydreams might be about. Although, this train of thought led her back to what Jacques had told her, made her consider what power she’d own when she became immortal. Would she be able to read minds too? She had a vague desire to ask Edward what he thought she’d be like if she became as he was, what Jacques meant when he told her of all this power she was supposed to possess. But no promise of even infinite power could draw her fully away from the moment at hand. She brushed all thoughts of Jacques from her mind and pulled herself back, back to here, where she lay with her beautiful love, inhaling the rich scent of him, ever conscious of his hand beneath her robe.

And yet, still she couldn’t see into his mind. She couldn’t tell what he’d like most at this moment, and so she was left to simply act upon impulse – not that this was so terrible. With a tiny smile, the young woman sat herself up, easing Edward up too, then distracted him with another gentle kiss as her hands unfastened the sash of the bathrobe. When she took her lips away, she was tucking her bare legs beneath the bed sheets and pulling her second arm out of the robe’s sleeve before dropping the garment aside. She lay upon her stomach, propped up on both elbows with the blankets of the bed covering her only up to the small of her back. The delicate spattering of red on her cheeks was clear indication of a somewhat diffident blush, but when she looked over to Edward, there was no worry in her eyes, only a warm, subtle beckoning.

[- - la nuit blanche]

Regrettably Evey knew that the intoxication of the previous night’s rapturous bliss would have to wear off sometime. That cloudy euphoria began running a bit low just as the pair reached the little restaurant where Evey could have a bite of breakfast. She began to feel jittery, anxious, and when she held Edward’s hand, which was near constantly, her fingers kneaded restlessly at his. She longed just to go back to the warmth of that little inn, never to leave the bed but to stay curled up and warm against Edward’s chest, wrapped tight in the comforting security of his arms. The world was suddenly such a fearful place and now she knew what awaited her if she were taken again from Edward’s side. She could only comfort herself with the notion that he’d never allow her to be pulled away from him again. It was in his nature to love and protect her, and she trusted that he was more than capable of fulfilling both duties for centuries to come. Nevertheless, she had no doubt that he could tell she was worried. She barely nibbled down a slice of toast with her tea and only prodded at the rest of the food on her plate. She knew Edward probably would’ve liked to see her eat a bit more, but her appetite dwindled more with each forced bite and her stomach churned unsettlingly around the dry toast after every swallow. However, she still found the spirit to smile a little when the hostess made some comment about how cute the pair looked together and promptly discounted their meal. Somehow it was comforting to know that someone thought they looked right side-by-side, as if they belonged together even despite all the forces that meant to wrench them apart.

But the drive to Evey’s home was nonetheless one of rigid nervousness and the petite brunette hardly said two words together the whole time. She wondered what the charming townhouse would look like now. Had Jacques and his fellows already been there in search of Edward and his human love? Evey pictured the tidy white house now as a pile of dust and bricks, torn and shredded apart, all of her belongings destroyed along with any sense of the nostalgia that might’ve lingered about the home where she’d grown up. Her breath quivered on the way out as her anxious eyes glanced through the window by her side. And what about her father? She prayed that he wouldn’t have returned from his trip to the country just yet, but with a chill, she imagined his body amongst the rubble of their home, pale and cold, with two bloody punctures to his throat. Resting her forehead in one hand, Evey suppressed a hollow sob and struggled away from that image. It was easier to escape such thoughts when the truck turned down her street and stopped before the townhouse, which, Evey noticed with frantic delight, was still standing. The place looked empty and a bit eerie in the overcast light and the streets seemed just as barren, all too quiet, but her home was still there. And yet, Evey paused. She wanted to rush out, search for her father, gather her things as fast as possible, but as she peered up at the house, she hesitated. Something felt strange, foreboding. But when Edward kissed her cheek and asked if she wanted him to go in with her, she gave a curt shake of her head. “No, it’s alright,” she murmured, trying to sound more certain of herself than she felt. If her father had returned, she wanted to see him alone, and if the house remained empty, she’d make Edward’s absence from her side reason not to linger too long as she gathered her things. Turning to look up into the man’s adoring ocher eyes, Evey managed a smile and pecked a kiss to the corner of his perfect lips. “I won’t be long,” she promised, then nudged the car door open, stepped out, and trotted up to the small porch of her home.

After slipping a spare key from its hiding place, Evey entered the house, closed the door behind her, and immediately peered around. The place seemed untouched. All of the lights were turned off, but frankly Evey didn’t remember quite right if any had been turned on the night Jason dragged her away. Everything else seemed just as it should have been, though. Her packed duffle bag was still where she’d left it in the parlor and the house was silent. With a heavy sigh of relief, Evey realized that her father wasn’t home. He couldn’t be in danger then. She’d simply have to grab her things and return to the truck to Edward. She could try to reach her father another time, and beg him to stay out of London as long as he possibly could. Suddenly Evelyn was feeling a little better, her mind at least somewhat soothed, until the piercing ring of the home telephone made her jump halfway out of her skin. She’d just been gathering her bag into her arms when the phone rang and as she approached the receiver, she let it drop back to the floor. She wasn’t certain she should answer, but what if it was her father? With this thought, she picked up the phone and brought it tentatively to her ear, murmuring a hoarse “Hello?” in a tone she almost didn’t recognize.

“Evey? Is that you?” Her father’s voice was full of worry but clearer than she’d heard it in some time. There was no drawl, no drunken slur, only his usual voice, warm, a bit frail, but gloriously familiar and unmistakable. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you since I got here. I’ve been worried sick, Evelyn. The doctor suggested I call the police. With all these killings and disappearances in the city…” Evey almost sobbed a laugh of relief and she rested her forehead against one wall of the small kitchen where the phone was located, smiling faintly to herself. “Dad, I’m okay,” she answered, trying hard to keep the emotion in her voice minimal. “I… I’ve been away. There’s something I need to tell you…” But Christ, how was she to do it? She couldn’t tell him that vampires were behind those attacks he’d mentioned, and that a certain troupe of them might still be after her. But she had to make him understand that she needed to be on her own for a while, but that she wasn’t in any danger. She couldn’t let him worry about her anymore, but she had to give herself reason to disappear.

“I’ve met someone, Dad,” she began slowly. She could almost imagine her father’s expression, confused and unsure, the wrinkles in his brow creasing. He began to speak, perhaps to protest or to ask questions, but Evey continued over him. “A boy, I mean. From school.” She wasn’t sure where exactly she was going with this, it was already sounding childish at best. “He’s very important to me… And we’re going away together.” Mr. Ashcroft sighed into the receiver, lightly groaning his daughter’s name in a mix of disbelief and regret, but again Evey stopped him before he could go any further. “This is serious, Dad. If you knew him, you’d understand. He loves me and respects me and the only thing he wants is to keep me safe and happy. This isn’t some crush between children…” Evey paused briefly and sighed. “He loves me the way you loved Mother,” she explained at last, and somehow she knew this was just the clarification her father would actually believe in. He was silent a moment, a time that seemed to Evey an eternity, then he exhaled another slow sigh. Evey knew what he was thinking as obviously as Edward would have. Her father knew her to be a clever, responsible sort of girl. After all, she’d been taking care of him for several months now, tending to the vices of an alcoholic and keeping top marks in school. She wasn’t the sort to be deceived and run off with a man on a whim. And more than this, he knew Evelyn to be an extremely intuitive girl. All her life he’d encouraged her to follow her feelings; how could he ask her to disassociate herself from those emotions now? And what sort of poet would he be if he demanded that she run away from her first true love? “…Where will you two go?” he asked at last, speaking slowly, quietly, reluctant but no longer wholly disapproving. Evey swallowed hard, smiling faintly to herself. It hadn’t been the whole truth, but at least it was part of it, and at least her father was taking her seriously. “I don’t know,” she answered softly. “But I’ll keep in touch with you every second I can. And I promise, you don’t need to worry. Edward is… very capable. He won’t let anything happen to me. But Dad… Can you do something for me? I want you to stay away from London. You’re right, it isn’t safe here right now. Our neighborhood in particular…” Again she could sense her father’s confusion through miles and miles of telephone wire. “Evey, I’m a grown man, I don’t think I need to worry…” Evey’s hand squeezed at the receiver a little tighter. “Please,” she stammered, and she knew there was obvious strain in her voice. “Just trust me, Papa. Stay in the country as long as you can. You could use the time to relax anyway… You sound so much better already.” It took a little more coaxing but finally Evey managed to convince her father that, at least for the sake of their family, he ought to stay with his doctor friend long enough to fully recover from his dependence on alcohol. She confessed to him how much it disappointed her to see him so wrecked, how it truly wore on her and did nothing to help her own coping with her mother’s death, and Mr. Ashcroft finally, guiltily relented. He would remain out of town until he was fully recovered, but when he was able to return, he expected her to do the same. Immensely relieved, Evey agreed, told her father how much she loved him, and carefully hung up the telephone.

For some reason her heart was pounding, but she suspected it was just her nerves. She turned round to finally pick up her things and return to Edward, but as she spun about, a pair of pale hands caught her shoulders and her eyes looked up into the ashen face of a tall man with long, black hair and deep red eyes. She gasped, forgetting how to scream as the man pushed her to a wall, not hard enough to hurt her but firmly enough to keep her trapped and properly startled. “Shh, shh, shh,” he coaxed almost excitedly, taking one hand from her shoulder to touch his cool fingertips to her lips. “Such a pretty girl,” he whispered. His mahogany eyes bore down on her, looking her over with what seemed an intense curiosity, not quite malicious but still more than a little unnerving. “And such a pretty mind… Evelyn… I can see why Edward has bound himself to you. Speaking of Mr. Cullen…” The tall, graceful vampire tilted his chin slightly over one shoulder as though to look behind him, though his eyes never left Evey’s face. “Jane,” he spoke, and a petite girl with a cold expression and deep, fearful ruby eyes stepped forward from the darkness of the Ashcroft’s living room. Another man came with her, a tall, thin man who looked somewhat apprehensive. His hair was a peppery grey, slightly untidy, but his eyes were kind and closer to the amber hue of Edward’s gaze than the striking red shared by the black-haired vampire and the one called Jane.

“Master?” Jane spoke, and her piercing eyes fixed upon Evelyn. She stared at Evey with such frightening intent that Evelyn felt powerless but to look back, and then a prickling shudder of discomfort, pain even, vibrated through her, causing her to wince slightly. The young female vampire’s lips twitched into the smallest of smirks. “Go and fetch the Cullen boy, will you?” the black-haired man requested, replacing both hands lightly upon Evey’s delicate shoulders. “Make sure he is properly… subdued. No more pain than necessary though, my dear. Just enough to make him amenable to… negotiation.” With a silent nod, and while suppressing another cruel, delighted smile, Jane turned and was gone, no doubt hurrying out to the front of the house to acquire and “subdue” Edward for the one she called Master.

The black-haired man drew his hands down Evey’s arms until he was clasping her hands and he smiled curiously. “Don’t worry about your Edward,” he commented casually. “Jane is usually quite obedient. I think she won’t hurt him too badly. Now, Evey, do you know me? I suspect you do. It appears both Cullen and Monsieur Moreau have taught you more than a little of our world. This is generally quite forbidden, you know, but it does save us the hassle of a lengthy introduction. I am Aro, a leader, so you have learned, of the Volturi. You understand, don’t you?”

Evelyn swallowed hard and nodded faintly. She remembered what Jacques had told her that night, how he despised the Volturi, how he meant to overthrow the band of supposed “royal” vampires, replace them with his own barbaric clan. “Good, I imagined you would. I have seen your mind, you see. I can do so as long as I touch you.” Evey was suddenly very conscious of the man’s long-fingered hands wrapped around her own, the way she felt rather vulnerable when he gazed down at her with such intensity. Her thoughts, none of them, were her own anymore. “You are a clever girl, Evey. Your thoughts, memories, they are all very clear. You remember and perceive things, especially people, very accurately.” Aro explained, though Evey wasn’t sure what sort of compliment this was. The tall vampire paused then, and his eyes narrowed a little, as if he were scrutinizing something unexpected inside her head. “You are… quite unique…” he murmured hazily. “Your thoughts of Edward… They are not what I’d have expected. You see him rather as if he were… As if he were human. You rarely think of him as anything different than a man of your world. You find him just as much your equal, just as relatable. You… understand him. And yet you have seen others of his kind, what they are capable of, what he is be capable of.” Aro shook his head a little and took his hands from hers. “Very curious…” he muttered. “It is a shame you may have to be sacrificed, should Edward refuse to join us.”

[- - la nuit blanche]

Evelyn felt once again like a despicable sort of doll, only to be used and played with by those more powerful than herself. Jason had yearned to claim her for his amusement, Aro sought her to be a strategically placed pawn, a useful little trinket to urge Edward into his hands. It was a great annoyance and Evey again felt hopeless in her own frailty. Her thoughts grew sad and dark as Aro offered Edward that final ultimatum: fight for him, or lose his love forever. Again her own vulnerability worked against them both. With gloomy regret in her eyes, she wished desperately that she’d been more firm in asking Edward to change her. The night prior may not have been so sweet had she spent it feeling her own human body wither and die, giving way to immortality, but at least then she wouldn’t be able to be so easily used by their enemies. In this self-loathing of her humanity, her weakness, Evey longed to ask Edward simply to refuse Aro’s negotiations. If he joined in this war, he himself would be in danger, and how could Evelyn let him risk his life for her own? How would she live with herself if he, he who had walked this world for almost two centuries, who possessed exquisite power and wisdom and a capacity for compassion like no human alive, sacrificed himself for her puny seventeen years? Despite what beauty Edward saw etched into her mind and soul, Evey still could not see her life as anything equal to his. And yet, when Edward strode forward, tall and poised, to offer Aro the terms of his employment, Evelyn couldn’t help but swell with love and pride. She was instantly reminded of the words she’d spoken to her father on the telephone: “I promise, you don’t need to worry. Edward is… very capable. He won’t let anything happen to me.” And that was the truth of it. No matter the personal risk, and no matter her own objection, he would never allow her in harm’s way. He loved her too much.

Aro was somewhat less impressed by the boy’s daring candor, but he supposed he should’ve expected such a request. He remained close by Evey’s side, silent, mulling over Cullen’s terms. It was not a terribly inconvenient request, to merely leave the human girl alone in exchange for Edward’s power and aid. If the boy was assured of his mate’s safety – which Aro could so easily ensure, if he wanted – he’d likely be properly motivated to do all he could to end this war. With one arm crossed over his chest, acting as a shelf upon which he perched his other elbow, he rested his chin in his raised hand and heaved a thoughtful sigh – breathing was unnecessary of course, but even after such a lifespan as his own, it remained sometimes a comforting habit. To agree would be easy, he thought, but it was not what he wanted. It would mean weakening himself, if only somewhat, to the will of this impertinent boy. He’d much rather do without such embarrassment.

Fortunately for his pride, he’d not bothered to speak, to voice his reluctant agreement, before Jane offered her own solution. His eyes, wide and still, looked to the blonde and as he pensively rubbed his fingertips across his pale lips, his mouth twitched into a delighted smile. “Clever Jane,” he praised, and he glanced down to Evey, ignoring Edward’s hasty objection. “We do not know what power she will possess, but it may be worth the risk of a disappointment to try…” Aro’s gaze was glittering with excitement now and as he peered down at Evey, his lips twisted into another faint, eerie smile. “I’ve always been insatiably curious, you see, Evey. I envy Jacques’ power, to know in an instant the very potential of a prospective immortal, and yet I quite delight in a good surprise. To sire you myself would be like… like unwrapping a lovely parcel. It is indeed… very tempting.” Evelyn felt her heart begin to stutter within her chest. Her body seemed to know even before her mind that she was threatened and upon frantic impulse she attempted to draw away from Aro, to turn and hurry to Edward. But the thin, pale man seemed to anticipate this and his arm was coiled around her before she could do more than make her first, feeble attempt to scramble away. Aro looked to Jane. “Edward’s gift is impressive, but if we won her as well…” His voiced trailed and he smiled delightedly, then nodded curtly in Edward’s direction. “Keep him steady, will you?”

Evey struggled without thinking, straining to twist away as Aro pressed her back hard into the wall behind her. Moments ago she’d been wishing for this, regretting it had not happened sooner, but that had been under the assumption that Edward would be the one to change her. She belonged to him, to him only, and she wanted no one else to have that liberty. And if Jacques’ hypotheses concerning the concept of the Siring were true, Evelyn shuddered to think what dark ambitions Aro’s venom would lock within her. No, this couldn’t happen! She had to get away. Somehow she had to escape.

But it seemed nothing short of impossible. As her breath quickened, mixed with soft whimpers, pleas to be released, Aro clasped a hand, icy as death, about her throat. He squeezed his fingers firm about her neck and she sputtered a little, laboring to draw in each shallow breath while his red eyes bore down upon her. The emotion within his gaze was odd, almost confused, as if he didn’t understand what reason she had to struggle. “I’m afraid this will cause some pain,” he began slowly, and his free hand reached to clasp hers, raising her wrist. “But do not forget, Evey. This is a gift.”

She tried to withdraw her hand but she’d dislocate the bones before Aro released her. She couldn’t move her arm an inch and was allowed only to watch as his lips neared the vulnerable veins that branched throughout her slender wrist. Her thoughts were growing hazy as his hand tightened further about her throat and when she could no longer inhale the oxygen she needed, her eyes began to drift closed. And then, it all ended. As if she’d woken from a nightmare, the fierce hand that had been choking her was now suddenly gone. The monster had, for an instant, become nothing more than a ghost. The pain she expected as Aro’s fangs sunk until her arm – it wasn’t there. She couldn’t even feel his chilled hand holding her steady anymore. She’d been entirely released, and she could breathe again. Aro had not bitten her, but it had not been only a dream.

Evey’s eyes opened as her lungs graciously accepted a quivering gulp of air and she saw that Aro was still standing before her, as well as the doctor, whose hand rested upon his master’s shoulder. Aro was staring down at her, but no longer with ambition or hunger. His expression was uncharacteristically and unmistakably one of shock, even wonder, and Evey supposed that something had been communicated to him through the doctor’s touch. The man must’ve rushed forward just in time.

“Are you sure..?” Aro breathed, looking sharply to Viedt, then back to Evelyn. She thought he looked even more mortified than he had when she first noticed his queer expression. Evey glanced warily to the doctor, tenderly rubbing at her neck, unaware that she was trembling slightly, to find that the man was looking back at her. He wore an expression rather different than the one frozen upon his master’s face. He looked very calm and was slightly, ever so slightly, smiling at her. He nodded curtly then stepped forward, inching with care towards the human girl and removing his hand from Aro’s shoulder to touch at Evey’s arm instead. He drew his fingers to her wrist and Evey jerked, instantly believing he would try to bury his fangs there as well, until the man gingerly held her arm steady and allowed her to realize that he was merely feeling for her pulse. “I won’t hurt you,” he assured her gently, and while Evelyn still remained wary of those specks of red in his eyes, she believed him. His voice sounded slightly worn, a bit hoarse, but it was comforting and deep. She started only a little when he placed his hand very carefully over her abdomen. He left his palm there a moment and shut his eyes, bowing his head in concentration. He nodded again before reopening his eyes and his hand slipped politely back to his side. “The girl is with-child.”

His words were hardly spoken above a whisper and Evelyn stared, her brows pulling together in complete and utter confusion. She couldn’t possibly have heard him correctly. “W-What?” she stammered, looking desperately to the doctor, then around Aro to try to find Edward’s gaze. She happened to lock eyes with Jane first and she felt a small chill. The girl was staring at her, looking from her face to somewhere near her navel, with an expression of utter disgust. Evelyn ignored her and tried to gather her thoughts. This wasn’t supposed to be possible, her mind objected. There must have been a mistake. This couldn’t happen, she knew that. But her questions were not to be answered now, at least not before Aro gave his response.

The black-haired vampire softly clapped his hands together, rubbing them thoughtfully. “How extraordinary…” he murmured, and Evey watched as his shock melted into a renewed curiosity. “And the child, it does belong to him?” A vague wave indicated Edward at Aro’s back, and the doctor gave a slow nod. “Conceived only last night,” Viedt murmured, glancing from the Cullen boy to his day-old, unborn infant’s mother. Evey wondered if he noticed her blush at his words; the flush darkened a little further when she heard Jane make some hissing noise to voice her distaste. Aro appeared more interested than revolted, however, and looked over Evelyn again. “Then it will be a dhampir, of course. A half-breed. There are some of our race who detest these creatures, for they possess all of our powers yet may live entirely undetected among mortals. They are not bound to our thirst. But a child bred of the two of you, with Edward’s gift and your potential… This creature could be extraordinary.” Aro was already plotting, but with a small shake of his head, the doctor interrupted. “You are mistaken,” he informed his master quietly. “This child will be no half-breed. It will grow and mature as a mortal. Somehow either the mother or the child itself has resisted the usual mutations of the father's vampire blood.” The doctor shook his head again and peered quietly down at Evey. “I do not fully understand. But I am certain. Their child will be human. Healthy, born almost exactly nine months from now. But should you change the mother, Aro, the baby will die with her mortal body. It will not survive her conversion to immortality.”

Once again, Aro appeared slightly stunned, and at a loss. “A human?” he whispered, a tone of bitterness in his voice. He was maybe disappointed that the child would not be born a powerful half-vampire, but he was nonetheless interested. He made no move to go along with his previous plan, sire Evey himself, and simply let the child die within her. “I… do not know that this has ever happened before. I wouldn’t have thought it possible.” This was all very interesting to Aro. It had been centuries since he’d last been so… surprised. It was incredibly fortunate for young Edward and his mate that he was indeed so naturally curious. “Edward,” he murmured, turning back towards the boy. “Let us reevaluate our negotiations. You will still come aid us in this war. In exchange, I will not turn your Evey and kill the child. In fact, I will be even more generous. My comrades would consider me a fool, I hope you know. They would consider this child an abomination. They would advise me not only to see it forever unborn, but likely also to kill the mother, if not you as well. But I find this all… very interesting. If you join us, I will see that Evelyn remains safe through all of this strife, able to birth this odd little infant unhindered. The other Volturi will know nothing of it, and she will be kept far from Moreau. If you cooperate, that is.”

[- - la nuit blanche]

So, vampires existed. One had fallen in love with her. One wished to claim her as his wanton sex slave. And a host of others likely wanted her dead. Each of these truths seemed so unbelievable, so fantastic, but Evey had somehow accepted them as fact more easily than she was now urged to believe, quite simply, that she was pregnant. It was perhaps the first really human dilemma she’d been made to face since her life so abruptly changed, since she’d entered this world of fierce, beautiful immortals. And she hadn’t quite been ready for it.

She resisted the news at first, glaring up at the doctor as if he were merely playing a trick on her, and on Edward too. Even if this lie had saved her mortal life, it was cruel of him to taunt the couple with something they both knew, knew beyond the shadow of a doubt, that they couldn’t have. Evey remembered how abruptly sad she’d become when Edward warned that they’d never be able to have children together, but she’d swiftly accepted this, and knew she would cope. To be told so suddenly, and by a complete stranger, that somehow during their one passionate evening together they’d conceived some miracle child, and a mortal one at that, was shocking to the point of trauma. The man had to be lying. But… the one called Aro believed him. Evelyn remembered what Aro had said of the doctor’s medical intuition during his human life, how this gift was “perfected” now as a vampire. No piece of modern technology could have detected the would-be infant inside of her, but by only looking at Evey, assessing her with a momentary touch, this doctor could see the entire course of her supposed pregnancy, and Aro – even Edward, whom Evelyn knew would’ve seen Viedt’s thoughts – believed him. She was going to have a baby.

As soon as Edward was before her, eagerly drawing her face into his perfect, silken hands, Evey felt herself begin to crumble. Her own hands shook a little as they reached up to lay upon her love’s shoulders and she let her weight lean into him – she really had no choice; as this realization crashed over her again and again, her knees felt suddenly weakened. She wasn’t sure she could’ve stood on her own. A baby… she thought to herself. Edward’s baby. As his lips hovered so near her own, Evelyn’s mouth pulled into a fragile, slightly nervous smile. Stunned as she was, mortified even, Evey realized that she was happy. She wanted this child more than anything. Tears were welling in her eyes and as she looked up into Edward’s face, she felt an overflowing sense of pride. At last she’d be able to give him something in return for all he’d given her. He would have the chance to experience something new, something he’d believed would always be denied him. And she could share in that blessed little something with him, as a mother.

That was a daunting title, to be sure. And Evey knew that, had she been given a choice, she wouldn’t have opted to become a parent so young. And yet, she couldn’t compare her situation to that of most expectant teens. She hadn’t been irresponsible in hopping into bed with the man who would be her infant’s father. It hadn’t been some night of drunken, unremembered depravity. She would be in love with and devoted to Edward forever – quite literally – and if ever they were going to become parents together, it had to be now. Evelyn was wary of her prospects as a mother, worried by the idea of pregnancy and childbirth – feats she never expected to encounter at her present age – but despite her uncertainties, there was no way she could consider this unexpected news to be anything less than a joyous blessing. Wrapped in Edward’s arms, Evelyn huddled to his chest and bowed her face into her hands. She was crying. Warm tears dampened her cheeks, accompanied by small, silent sobs. Such emotion burst inside of her that she simply couldn’t contain it within. She heard Edward agree to Aro’s terms, but she could not bring herself to look upon their company again. She stayed locked in Edward’s embrace, so glad to have it around her again. As the torrent of worry, happiness, gratitude, and a host of other feelings, feelings Evelyn couldn’t have put names to if she tried, began finally to ebb away, she drew her hands from her face and coiled her arms about Edward’s waist, turning away from the others to nestle her cheek into his shoulder.

“I will keep it,” Aro promised the boy listlessly, seeming somewhat bored now that he’d gotten what he wanted. But he still peered at the couple with inquisitive eyes, looking upon Evey especially with a queer expression of incredulity. It was strange to see a creature, one with such potential, such waiting power, to wilt into such human emotion. Weeping softly into her mate’s chest, so overwrought by the notion that she was pregnant with his child. In some ways, it was unnerving. Jane, for one, was positively bristling with disgust, looking at the mortal girl in completely revolted disdain. “We three have more to discuss,” Aro murmured at length, looking from Evey’s quivering form to the man who held her steady. “We must decide where dear Evey will be kept, how best to keep this secret from my comrades. But we will remain close by,” he continued, looking coolly into Edward’s face. “You will be ready to give her to us and take our commands as soon as we ask.”

Then, with negotiations over, Aro having received what he’d come for and even a little more, the pale man turned and glided away. Jane bestowed one last glare of abhorrence upon the couple, then turned to follow her master. The doctor was the last to go. From across the small living room, he looked quietly from the young vampire to his mate, then smiled frailly. “Congratulations,” he murmured softly.

Evey heard the room fall silent then and figured that at last she and Edward had been left alone. Her tears were subsiding but tiny streams that marked their paths still shone upon her cheeks, curving down her chin. At once, she slipped her arms up about Edward’s neck and pressed slightly frantic kisses to his face. Her lips touched at his jaw, his chin, cheek, and finally found his exquisite, pale red mouth. If he had any doubts of her response to the doctor’s news, whether or not it pleased her, he ought to be well-informed of her thoughts now. She was elated. And yet, she had not forgotten that their happy news came with a price. As she drew her lips from his, Evey looked up into her love’s beautiful golden eyes with sadness in her own. “I don’t want you to go…” she whispered feebly, and new tears began to well in those somber blue seas. “I don’t want us to be separated. I can’t do this without you…”

More fearful than the trials of pregnancy and childbirth was the realization that Edward wouldn’t be there every moment by her side. And what if he was finally ensnared by Moreau and his company? What if he was killed, lost to her forever to this otherworldly war, never to meet the son or daughter that already grew inside her? Evey lowered her eyes to the floor and wiped at them with one hand, swallowing hard. Despite her worries, she knew there was no sense in hoping to escape Aro’s bargain. They would have to be parted.

[- - la nuit blanche]

Evelyn never would’ve suspected Edward to be “the kind of guy” who would simply let the young mother of his child be parted from him forever, but unending anxiety and fear of the challenges ahead continued to frustrate her frantically working mind. She clutched at the man with trembling hands and when he kissed her, she fiercely kissed back, as though every second their lips were joined was like a dream, something sweet to block away the darkness of reality. She longed so desperately to escape. But as he held onto her, quietly hushing her then kissing her cheek, she began to stop trembling. Her palms laid lightly upon his chest, one set of fingers fiddling with the top button of his shirt, and she managed a small smile.

Somehow she was indeed a little reassured when Edward revealed that he’d been to war once before. But had it not been for their child, she’d have still refused to simply be ushered to the sidelines while her mate was forced into battle. Swallowing hard, Evey laid her head gingerly to Edward’s shoulder and breathed a heavy, shaking sigh. “Our baby…” she managed to echo softly, smiling a slightly strained but still delighted little grin and peeking up to the face of her mate. “When you told me it wouldn’t be possible, I admit, I was disappointed. I knew that if I’d have ever wanted to have a baby, it could only be with you. I knew how much I’d have loved to make you a father, to see you with your child, our child… But now that it comes to it…” Her smile didn’t falter but it now looked a little guilty and she nestled a bit nearer into Edward’s torso. “I’m scared,” she confessed, laughing faintly. “Can you believe that? Amidst all of this trouble, I might just be scared most of becoming a mother.” She wondered if the little spark of life inside her could feel how quickly her heart was beating, how mutually excited and terrified she felt when she considered the day she’d meet her own child.

As Edward guided her arms back up around his neck, Evey smiled and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “But I didn’t think I could ever be so happy…” She nuzzled the bridge of her nose to the man’s chiseled jaw and momentarily forgot all about Aro and Moreau. For this instant, they didn’t matter. Evelyn was now somewhat comforted, with Edward’s arms coiled about her while he explained that perhaps Aro would allow her to be guarded by none other than his own family. Her stomach did a few new nervous somersaults at the prospect of meeting the rest of the Cullens, but she was convinced by Edward’s certainty that they would be kind and would receive her well as Edward’s mate and the mother of his unborn child. It was strange, the notion that they would all be vampires scarcely even crossed her mind. Far more unsettling, she considered, was the thought that sooner or later, her father would have to learn of her pregnancy and may also, in due time, find out about the immortals she’d been running about with during his absence. Though perhaps more than all this, and very truly, Evey felt most upset by the fact that she’d have to be estranged from her father until this was all over. It would be too dangerous now for her to tell him where she was going, what she was doing. To tell him the truth. But his lack of involvement in her life at this time would keep him safe. It was the only way.

Fortunately she was not left to dwell on this sadness for too long. Edward’s exquisite lips were laying dizzying kisses along her knuckles and his warm voice promised her that everything would be fine. She could do nothing more than believe him, and grin at his pointed observation that they were now all alone, and she was already as pregnant as she could be.

With his wink and his mischievous smile, Evelyn grinned and stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him once more before grasping insistently at his hand and turning towards the stairs that led up to her bedroom.

[- - la nuit blanche]

"The one I do love…” Evelyn corrected her mate insistently. For everything within her, every cell and nerve, told her that she loved this man. As she lay by his side half beneath the wrinkled sheets of her bed, her cheeks still burned, her body remained heated and flushed, and as the frantic beat of her heart finally began to quiet, she knew that nothing could ever part or distract her from the exquisite man lounging beside her, nuzzling satiny kisses to her ear. The intimacy she felt with him was perhaps the most momentous, worthwhile sensations she’d ever known. Their love-making was earth-shattering and the honesty she felt between them was so lucid, so beautifully simple. He knew her as no one else did, as no one else ever could.

But she felt quietly guilty for it. Edward had been forced to be so strong for her, for both of them. In a world where she was little more than a trinket to be pursued, negotiated upon, stolen, he was the sole protector of their love. He had to make decisions for them both. It strained her heart to contemplate how difficult this must be for her dear mate, and to hear him vocalize his worry that this war might turn him into a man not fit for fatherhood wracked her even more forcefully. “My Edward…” she crooned softly, urging him to turn over her and coaxing his head to lay upon her breast. Her slim, graceful digits combed gingerly into his tousled caramel locks and she rested her cheek against the top of his head. “You’re so capable of love, so willing to care for and protect… It’s in your nature, I think. I can’t imagine you making anything less than the most devoted and doting father, and I don’t believe that you could be changed even if you were forced to fight a thousand wars.”

She moved her hand from his hair and laid lightly at his bicep, then delicately grazed her nails down his arm, following it to his wrist then tracing back up again. “Though of course I’d prefer you didn’t have to fight any…” she added faintly, and there was that note of slightly frenzied worry in her voice once more. She wished so badly that she could simply hold her love prisoner here in her arms, with his head resting forever upon the heart that beat for him alone. But she knew he’d be wrenched away. He’d have to be, wouldn’t he…? Her mind tried to plot a way out of it, a way for them to simply run away from all of this. But how could that ever be? Jason and Moreau likely wanted the two of them dead whether or not they were at all involved in this battle, and Aro had ensnared them both in a deal Evey doubted could ever be cleanly broken.

But how perfect it would be if only they could get away… They would flee, escape, run perhaps to the States and to the companionship and protection of Edward’s family. And he would be at her side every minute to see his child begin growing in her tummy. Evey imagined them sitting together, pouring anxiously through parenting books, decorating a little nursery, and all the while her mate would be there to hold her hand whenever she felt frightened, and at last be the first to take their child in his arms when it was born.

“I hate this war…” Evey mumbled bitterly, sighing lightly into Edward’s soft, honeyed hair. “It will part us, put you in danger, and… and I feel like it’ll have to matter more than the baby. This time should be just for us, for us and our child. A time to think up names and pick out clothes… Not to be separated, constantly worried about one another.”

Evey suddenly gave a dry laugh and nuzzled her lips to the crown of Edward’s head. “I’m sorry…” she murmured. “I shouldn’t be whining. It’s just that… This has all been so hard on you, I know it has. All the time you have to be so careful, so in control. Even when we make love, I know it must be difficult for you not to hurt me, and every minute of the day you have to think for us both, decide what’s best, constantly contemplate what actions won’t get us killed. I wish you could have a break for once… And I can’t pretend that I won’t be a mess every second you’re away.”

[- - la nuit blanche]

As Edward’s head melted to her breast, Evey cradled him into her, smiling quietly, blindly to herself as her eyes fell languidly closed. She should’ve been immune by now to the thrill his nearness urged on her – the subtle sensation might’ve at least been dulled somewhat when compared to the impassioned euphoria of their earlier love-making – but, quite simply, she wasn’t immune, nor was the wondrous feel of him ever any bit diminished. The close, knowing way he touched her, the fresh, dizzying aroma that lingered on his cool breath, in his hair… She quivered, and she could feel her heart palpitating in her chest. She felt out of breath, exhilarated, as if she’d just run a marathon. She just couldn’t seem to get used to it. When his tentatively wandering hand grazed her thigh beneath the covers of her bed, she just about leapt out of her skin. Or, well, leapt onto him. Thrown him on his back and kissed him between indiscrete pleas for him to have her again. It took all her restraint to tame her response to a feeble, wanting sigh, and his voice, low, slightly grizzled and murmuring promises of even better nights to come once she’d been changed at last, only exacerbated her madness. Little daydreams swiftly penetrated her mind, visions of a fitfully wrecked bedroom, not to mention the illicit passions that had turned downy pillows to shredded clumps of feathers, bent an iron bed frame like a pretzel. There was a time when she’d have blushed to think of such things and tried hard to banish those visions from her head, but now, though she did still blush a little, she left those thoughts as they were, mischievously hoping to taunt her mind-reading lover with them just as they taunted her.

She hadn’t realized how tightly she’d come to grasp him until he began to draw himself away. One set of fingers was locked into his tangled, caramel hair and her other arm was no longer lightly draped across his back, but hugged there, squeezing needily, possessively. When she realized this, she gingerly loosened her hold on him but her body instinctively moved with his as he turned to hold himself up beside her. She was glad that their conversation had leavened somewhat, but when her mate requested that she not work herself into a frenzy, make herself sick during his absence, she had to smile sort of apologetically, as if to convey that, even if he demanded otherwise, she’d have no choice but to worry about him. Nevertheless, she knew that it’d be no good for their baby if she stopped eating while he was away, or chose to simply lock herself in a dark room, weeping and moping all day every day, which would have been, truthfully, her first instinct when faced with her separation from Edward. She’d have to keep herself healthy, keep her spirits up, and feed off the happiness she knew would come once her mate had returned. Besides, what sort of wife or mother would she be if Edward came back only to find her wasting away, emaciated, perishing for worry of him, and with their child too?

No, she’d have to manage without him, some way. Acquiescing to his request, Evey nodded a little and simply took in the man’s affectionate little kisses to her forehead, cheek, nose, and finally, lips. As the kiss deepened, the young woman mewed a small hum of delight and her heart rattled faster than ever. And then he stopped. Had their situation been different, had Evelyn known that they were entirely safe with endless centuries to spend in each other’s arms, she’d have insisted that whatever it was that had caught his attention, urged him to pull away, could not be at all important enough to distract them from one another. But Evey knew this wasn’t likely to be the case, not now, and she perceptively read his actions, his expression, the way he held her guardedly now, as if to shield her from some soon-to-come torrent of destruction. They weren’t alone.

“Edward..?” the girl murmured softly, wishing, as she often did, that she could know his thoughts as he knew hers. “What is it?” She expected that the Volturi must’ve come back, but, seeing as their business with them was for the most part through, she doubted that their reappearance would’ve given Edward such cause for surprised. The way he so swiftly left the bed and dressed, barely more than a blur before her eyes, indicated a dire shock, which frightened Evey more than anything. She felt cold all of the sudden, clammy and almost ill. But it couldn’t possibly be Moreau… He and Jason would’ve found Aro first, and had a fight been warring on outside their window, Evey was sure they’d have known it. But who else could it be, if not Aro and Jane, nor Moreau and his fearful militia? Did they have more enemies? More reasons still to be always on their guard?

Evey decided not to voice all the questions in her mind – now didn’t seem the time – and when Edward asked her to dress and meet him downstairs, she moved without thought and as fast as she could manage. Rolling off the bed, she tugged on her underclothes, then went to her closet and grabbed a little cotton sundress from a hanger. The garment was hardly appropriate for this time of year, but she could yank the dress over her head faster than she could zip herself into jeans and button up a blouse. She smoothed the eyelet gown down herself on her way out the bedroom door and tramped down the stairs, taking them two at a time while one hand shakily clasped the banister. Her bare feet landed lightly upon the carpet at the bottom of the steps and there she paused. She could hear her own breath, coming in short, anxious gusts, but she tried to listen past them for any sound of Edward and whoever it was that comprised their unexpected company.

She heard voices in the living room, and at once she followed them. She found Edward in the doorway and nearly ran herself into his back in her haste to get to his side. A trembling hand slipped into his and she parted her lips to speak when she saw the man standing near the window. He was so quiet and still that she’d scarcely noticed him at first. The sight of the stranger made her jump a little and she clasped Edward’s fingers more tightly. But as she looked at the man, it didn’t take her too long to realize that he was somehow… different. In the light of the moon, his eyes did not glint violent, flickering red, but shone a soft, warming amber and were more inquisitive and intelligent than intimidating. Like Edward’s. His expression too was one of warmth and Evey saw in his whole person a sort of… humanity, which was fearfully absent in both the Volturi and Moreau.

“Edward?” Evey murmured, looking upward at her mate. Her grip on his hand had loosened a little. Somehow she didn’t feel as though she had to fear this other man. “Is everything alright…? You… You know him, don’t you?” Her voice was hushed, though she knew there was no point trying to conceal her words from their… guest. He’d be able to hear her a mile away, but for some reason, Evey still had the impression that it’d have been impolite to ask her questions about him in a less fragile tone of voice.

[- - la nuit blanche]

Evelyn felt a strange, simultaneous blend of extreme relief and utter panic when Edward explained that this elegant blond man was his father. She was strongly compelled to begin preening herself – remembering in complete horror her disheveled and literally just-rolled-out-of-bed appearance – and, with a blush and an apologetic smile, reached timidly to fasten one button higher on her rumpled little dress. At that moment, amidst all the danger and discord in their world, all Evey wanted to do was give her beau a sturdy kick in the shin for rousing her as if the house was on fire, forcing her to exit her room looking an absolute mess, to be introduced to a man she already considered her father-in-law, without even the slightest warning. For an instant, she rather wished Mr. Carlisle Cullen had been only Moreau or Jason. Then at least she could’ve done away with this terrible feeling of self-consciousness, and that gnawing wondering just how long the elder Cullen had been seated in her living room, and whether he’d happened to sense or – Jesus Christ – hear her making furious love to his adopted son upstairs. Evey flushed a slightly deeper red and her nails prickled into the back of her mate’s hand as her digits nervously – and somewhat reproachfully – squeezed.

“Mr. Cullen, s-sir…” Evelyn stammered, struggling to forget her insecurities enough to make a somewhat courteous hostess. “It’s a pleasure… I-I hoped it wouldn’t be long before I met Edward’s family…” She might’ve gone on to dumbly apologize for her disarray, or at least explain how welcome his visit was, had she not first noticed the grave glance exchanged between Edward and his father. She prided herself in being quick enough to catch the thoughts almost definitely being shared, even if she could not hear them herself. It was maddening to stand by, even in just those few brief seconds, and not know what was being spoken between those two minds. She was grateful when Carlisle suggested that they sit and discuss things outright, and allowed Edward to lead her to the free armchair opposite the one Carlisle himself had taken. She settled down and let her hand, still clasped up in Edward’s, to rest on the young man’s knee as he perched himself beside her.

Evey felt as though her heart had taken flight when the patriarch of the Cullens first welcomed her to his family. She was relieved that he seemed not of a mind to reproach the pair for their flippant – or so it may have been thought – and ill-timed romance. Evelyn smiled graciously and, looking up to Edward beside her, drew his palm to her lips for a devoted kiss. “He means everything to me,” she murmured earnestly, in a tone that seemed almost mournful in its sincerity. At length her eyes drew back to the man opposite her. “As does the acceptance of his family,” she added with another soft, thankful smile. There was a certain timidity behind that smile, though, which stemmed from the question in Evey’s mind as to whether or not Mr. Cullen knew yet of her pregnancy. “I’m so grateful,” she sincerely concluded, replacing her hand delicately back to Edward’s leg, letting it replace the armrest upon which he sat.

Then it was down to business, throughout which Evey remained quite silent. She listened very carefully, making sure she kept up despite her wish simply to have a pleasant visit with her newly met father-in-law. She’d have loved to hear more about his home, and certainly the rest of his family, but now was not the time, not when all of those things were in peril. She tried hard to process everything that was said, to fit it into place with the other puzzle pieces acquired earlier, during their talk with their Volturi, her brief captivity with Moreau. There was no truth to Jacques’ theory of the Siring? Evey’s lips pursed and she looked briefly towards Edward. In that case, she could’ve just let Jason change her, then promptly wreaked havoc upon his entire coven of her own will, or, more simply, run back off to find Edward. The girl mentally scolded herself. Somehow she always felt so inept, so ignorant in this strange world. It was as if she’d never get anything right. This feeling only continued as Carlisle discussed with Edward the insensibility of joining with the Volturi, that doing so would only bring them infinitely closer to their doom.

Evelyn felt slightly ill once more. Her stomach churned at the thought that perhaps they’d been making all the wrong decisions, that Edward was being sent needlessly away into a battle that could feasibly end in Armageddon for Vampires and humans alike. She yearned to lay her head in Edward’s lap and bitterly weep and curse the whole world for their dilemma. There would be no way to take back their mistakes. The chief of which, Evey despairingly considered, might be the tiny, currently imperceptible one growing inside her.

When Edward at last announced the existence of the child they expected together, Evey watched for Carlisle’s reaction with the same anticipation and anxiety with which one might gaze upon an oncoming tidal wave. Only the disbelief, anger, horror, whatever great fury she expected to wash down upon them, did not come. Quieted by his astonishment, Carlisle looked at her and choked out a feeble, unexpectedly mild response.

Evey herself felt choked and she found it impossible to hold Carlisle’s warm, golden stare a second longer. Looking pathetically down at her bare feet, she wet her lips. “I-I’m sorry,” she answered hoarsely. She could think of nothing more to say. She was overwhelmed by the thought that this child, this unexpected miracle, was the only real reason for Edward to race off into danger. It made her feel terribly, terribly guilty. And yet, as much as she wished to continue her apology, to ingratiate herself to Carlisle and beg him to forgive her for doing her part in the creation of this infant, and thereby endangering one of his sons… she knew that Edward would chide her, would absolutely admonish her, for ever considering their son or daughter a mistake, simply because he’d have to fight for it. Tears began to pour into those two, cool blue wells, not self-pitying tears or even tears of despair, but angry ones, frustrated ones. Her gaze remained in her lap and she swallowed hard. “I would do anything to keep him from harm, give anything in the world…” Her eyes, resolute, lifted back to Carlisle’s face, and she no longer looked like a nervous, desperately in-love teenager just meeting her beau’s father. With her soft lips stubbornly pressed, her pale breast heaving a steadying breath, she looked a solemn, determined heroine, more than willing to do her part in a battle that might still be considered totally beyond her. “What can we do?” she asked, desperately searching Carlisle's face for some wisdom, some advice, or a way out they'd not yet been able to discover.

[- - la nuit blanche]

Damn him.

Again Evey felt herself dizzied by Edward’s affections. And as they grew rapidly more heated, it was all the young woman could do not to get up off his lap and simply drag him with her back upstairs to her bedroom. A soft, trembling whine was hummed into his mouth as the young man’s cool, perfect hand wandered deftly up beneath her dress, squeezing into just the right place at her thigh to clasp over her pulse which had, she knew, come to quicken considerably. Evey’s fingers had sat lightly at the side of her lover’s neck, caressing, but swiftly drew up into his copper locks and knotted themselves there. With her hand cradling at the base of his skull, she strategically urged his lips more closely, needfully, to her own until Edward finally dragged himself back from her.

He hadn’t pulled away quite so suddenly as he had up in her room when he registered Carlisle’s appearance, but nonetheless, Evey’s perceptive blue eyes peeked up into his face as though to inquire what was wrong. It still felt… unusual, the way he drew back. And even as Evelyn smiled in response to her beau’s chiding their seemingly unquenchable newlywed desires, she wondered what had urged him away from her. After all, though he may well worry for her strength, she hadn’t seemed the slightest bit fatigued whilst he kissed her. In fact, all things considered, she was nothing short of lively, if not plainly vigorous. And certainly her mind, while it sighed and swooned with their kiss, couldn’t have suggested to him that she was any bit displeased by his ministrations. But then, perhaps Evey was just feeling jumpy, a little over-cautious. Surely not every broken kiss was cause for alarm. And anyway, Edward had a point: if they kept up like this, they might just be walked in upon by the entire Cullen clan, and Evelyn certainly didn’t want that.

As her mate rose and stretched his lithe frame – an action that Evey gazed appreciatively upon all the while – the petite girl resituated herself in the now half vacant armchair and considered Edward’s suggestion, that if she meant to rest or eat or pack a bag, now would be the time to do it. “I am hungry…” she confessed, although, as she eyed her would-be husband still, she wondered just what appetite she wished to satisfy. “And…” the girl added, turning her eyes aside to keep the distraction of her handso#4A9DD5me love somewhat minimal, “I suppose I could probably do with a nap too.” Seeming a little irritated at her own needs – even if again giving way to passion with her Edward may have been inadvisable, Evey would’ve happily gone without a meal and some sleep just to remain comfortable in his arms, resting there until their company arrived – the brunette got to her feet as well. She glanced briefly towards the kitchen, wondering what food might still be left and briefly feeling a bit rude for not being able to offer anything suitable to Edward, considering his unique diet. But at length, her eyes came back to him and she smiled as she sidled up to his chest, standing up on her tiptoes and resting her smooth palms to his cheeks. “I can’t stop thinking of how things will be when this is all over…” She remembered that Edward had estimated just one week to take down Moreau, and even if it was a bit premature, that made Evey feel rather optimistic. Just seven days, and it would all be finished. As she looked up into Edward’s warm, amber eyes, surveying them as admiringly and earnestly as one might study a master’s painting, Evey’s smile broadened a little. “There won’t be any more interruptions then…”

Her final sentiment came out in something more of a purr than she’d intended, and before she could be lulled into disregarding all potential distractions, Evey placed a gentle kiss to his lips and turned to go to the kitchen.

Going first to the pantry, Evey snatched a box of cereal then seized a milk carton from the refrigerator. She knew there would be no time to make herself a proper dinner, but she didn’t mind. She chowed down a considerably large bowl of the cereal and finished off her meal with a biscuit and a cup of hot tea. Once she’d finished, she moved towards the stairs to go up to her room to pack. From there, she could see Edward, still in the living room, looking cautiously out the window, parting the curtains barely an inch with his graceful fingers. Evey felt a little nervous, knowing their colorful array of potential intruders but, convincing herself that he was surely only keeping an eye out for the rest of his family, the young woman started to pad quietly up the stairs and to her room. Though as soon as she got there, she too was peeking restlessly out the window and onto the quiet street.

A small duffle bag was grabbed up and tossed onto her bed – which remained somewhat in disarray from its earlier use – along with a few articles of clothing. Expecting that there was no need for any truly becoming garments, Evey’s minimized wardrobe consisted mainly of jeans, tee-shirts, and a couple of warm jackets. The soft white sundress was taken off and packed too, as Evey guessed she ought to be ready to journey outside and pulled on some pants and a sweatshirt. A few other items – toothbrush, soap, and things like that – were tossed in as well, then the zippers were zipped up and Evey stepped into some trainers and started back downstairs. She left her bag at the last step and glanced about for Edward. She expected she’d just forego the nap. She’d rather just stay awake with her mate and bask in the few moments they might still have left to themselves.

[- - la nuit blanche]

It came as a surprise to Vianne when she heard the door unlock. In fact, it startled her for a moment. She’d expected that all this time, Dae had simply been asleep in his luxurious bedroom, dozing soundly without bothering to give another thought to their shared predicament. She hadn’t heard him go back out to his office, though she wasn’t so surprised. He was known to work late, especially when – as Vianne suspected, even if she did not know all the fine details – he had a big deal coming in. But even as she heard the door close behind her employer, she didn’t bother to rise, or to frantically attempt to hide her cigarette and glass of wine. She sat quietly, and her expression didn’t change when she heard him speak to her.

“As your fiancée,” she retorted quietly, “I thought you might give me a little slack. Besides, you pay me to clean up your messes; you should know that of course I’ll clean up mine.” She twisted out the last of her cigarette in the ashtray and was prepared to take it away to be emptied and cleaned when Dae continued. She paused, then sipped away her final drink of wine, and set the empty glass upon the table with the crystal ashtray. “I couldn’t sleep,” she answered softly. “I didn’t know that you’d gone out.” Crossing her arms around her, the young woman leaned back into the couch, tucking her slender legs under herself. She only glanced up to actually look at Mr. Moore when he stepped a fraction nearer to her. But even as he moved, Vianne got the feeling that he wanted to keep his distance, that he didn’t come near to her of his own will somehow. His maid smiled vaguely and motioned to the other end of the couch, subtly suggesting that if he meant to stay and question her any further, he might as well sit down. “I won’t bite,” she muttered. “I feel like I must be carrying something contagious, the way you keep your distance from me.”

Her eyes wandered away from him and she looked down, one set of fingers absently toying with a loose string on the arm of the sofa. She laughed lightly when he spoke again. “You don’t have to make a contract,” she answered, unable to stifle an ironic smile. She still thought that the poor man was completely paranoid. “You really do think that I mean to betray you, don’t you? You don’t have to worry. I won’t leave. Not until you tell me to.”

“And,” she continued softly, “I’ll be sure my room is clean for your guest, but… I don’t have to stay here. I’m sure you can make up some excuse for my absence, and I can stay with a friend in the city. If you prefer it.” She couldn’t imagine him actually wanting her to stay in his room with him, no matter what the circumstances were. Although, he was a clever man. Had he really wanted to keep her elsewhere, perhaps he’d have already thought up some reason of his own. He’d probably have already made arrangements for her to stay at some little motel on the other side of town if he really were that opposed to her staying with him in his own room. Vianne was quiet for a moment, as though to allow him to rethink things if he wanted, until at last she looked back towards him through the dim light.

“I was thinking,” she murmured softly, “how, if it weren’t for this mess, you probably never would’ve really looked at me. I’ve lived in your house for months and I was never sure if you even knew my name…” The young woman cast her eyes aside again and pulled her knees to her chest, resting her head on top of them. Dae probably wouldn’t have seen, but there were suddenly tears in her eyes. She didn’t want them there, didn’t really even know why they’d come at all. Perhaps it was just the thought of how things had been before. How after weeks and weeks of taking care of – and definitely to a certain extent, caring for – the man, he’d never been at all friendly with her. Cordial, certainly, but never particularly warm, and certainly not close. Now he really had no choice. “I wonder if it was worth it,” she mumbled somberly. “It’s nice, at least, to be noticed.” It was an unexpected gulp of fresh air just to no longer play the part of an invisible servant, one whose job it was to come and go without ever being seen, to give the illusion that those dishes just cleaned themselves, and the flowers on his desk only appeared there of their own will.

“Draw up a contract if you want…” she said after another quiet, solemn pause. “I’ll sign it.” Pushing herself to her feet, she gathered the wine glass and ashtray into her hands, then briefly looked back at her employer. “Goodnight, Mr. Moore,” she murmured, then turned to go to the kitchen. She’d longed badly to kiss him at that moment, but she knew somehow that it would be better if she didn’t. If she gave that man any willful affection, even with the most innocent intentions, he’d simply accuse her of trying again to seduce him.

In the kitchen she washed up the glass and ashtray, then started quietly back to her bedroom.

xxx xxx

[- - la nuit blanche]

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{ i l xxx f a u t xxx c h e r c h e r xxx a v e c xxx l e xxx c œ u r }

• • • • • • • •

Why did life have to be so damn difficult? At least, it had to be so difficult for her. Vianne Auclair often stood on the roof of her shabby, antique apartment building and looked down at the city streets below, noting the people scurrying contently below in perfect time with one another. It was a rhythm she just couldn’t seem to find, had never found in all her twenty-four years. She felt constantly out of sync, found it impossible to feel “normal,” and felt that everyone around her judged her for it. Where had it begun? she wondered. When did it start? When precisely had she first tripped, stumbled out of step with the world about her?

It could’ve been so far back as her seventh birthday. Her parents – lovely, intelligent, wealthy people – were driving her home from a long day of celebrating at a theme park outside the city when a truck came at them down the narrow highway. Vianne was dosing off in the back seat at the time. She stirred at the sound of screeching tires, opened her eyes to see her mother’s hand clutching her father’s arm as he grasped the steering wheel. All that she remembered after that was the white lights of the truck, which melted into the white light of a hospital examination table. The crash had left her covered in deep wounds with a number of bones to repair. They thought she’d die of blood loss, but after her long recovery, she came away with only scars. Jagged streaks down her left arm where the glass of a window had cut her, and a patch of gnarled skin on the back of her right shoulder where she’d been burned by the flames that followed the crash. But she recovered. Her parents weren’t so fortunate. They’d been killed as soon as the truck hit them.

Her childhood before that night had been nothing less than charmed, but every day afterwards was a sad, lonely misery. She was sent to live with an indifferent aunt and uncle and became the ugly duckling of their family. They had children of their own and didn’t care to take on another daughter. They scarcely noticed when, at fourteen, Vianne went the typical path of a neglected delinquent. She became involved with the wrong sorts of boys, ditched school, and ran away from home more times than she could count. As soon as she was legally an adult, her aunt and uncle stopped looking for her the next time she ran. She made it from France all the way to London and used her inheritance money to buy the little apartment where she remained. It was good to be on her own for a time, but things only continued to spiral downwards as her life went on.

The only job opening she could find for one who had barely finished their primary education was for a dancer at a seedy club. The tips were good, but her employer was a very trying man. He took to Vianne right away, which was nice at first. He bought her new clothes and even some jewelry, took her out to dinner and drinks on a number of occasions. But he wasn’t a good man and Vianne often felt stifled by what he thought to be affection. He was possessive enough of her when he was sober, but he’d take her to parties, get them both incredibly drunk, then let his buddies pay to take her to an empty bedroom for an hour each. The first day after this happened, Vianne tried to drop her employer, quit and run away once again. Only, running away wasn’t as easy as it used to be.

It was a cloudy, drizzling night when she stepped out of a cab outside her building. She’d tried again that night to leave her boss and get away. Now she was walking to her door with a slight limp and the right side of her face still flared red where the back of her employer’s hand had fallen. Her body ached and she yearned just to lie down, but she passed by her door and continued up the creaking stairs to the roof exit. She often went out there alone when she was upset like this. She’d bellow out her troubles to the night sky, pace back and forth, but tonight was different. She didn’t yell or scream. She only cried.

After kicking off her high heels, she sat out in the rain on the very edge of the rooftop, feet dangling above the city. Beside her crouched one of the few stone demons that decorated the building, the gargoyles who were her only company on that roof.

She sat with her head in her hands for what felt like hours, weeping bitterly as her wet hair clung to her cheeks and her dark eyeliner bled down her cheeks. Tonight was worse than the others somehow. It was the final straw. She couldn’t weather a single night more, another disappointment, another evening feeling as though she’d never fit in, never be happy. Her heart beat faster and faster within her chest and she felt very dizzy all of the sudden. She was hardly aware of herself drawing up to her feet, now standing upon the edge. She felt almost in a daze as she steadily looked up at the starless sky, then slowly, down at the street below. Then, without another thought, she inched closer to the very edge of the roof, leaned forward, and let herself fall.

o n xxx n e xxx s a i t xxx j a m a i s

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[- - la nuit blanche]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx» on ne { voit } bien
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx q u 'avec le c œ u r.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxl'essentiel est invisible
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx pour les yeux « «

vianne cécile auclairxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx×××

{ i l xxx f a u t xxx c h e r c h e r xxx a v e c xxx l e xxx c œ u r }

• • • • • • • •

Vianne liked the sensation of falling. After the first twenty feet, it just felt natural. She closed her eyes and surrendered gracefully to gravity, the way one surrenders to sleep after an unpleasant day, or after having been awake too long. That was how her life had felt. Like one long, bad day. Now her eyes were red and stinging and it was time to go to sleep. The fall was easy, merciful. Damp air rushed over her, raindrops mingled with the tears on her cheeks, and her light brown waves billowed around her head like a veil. And soon, swiftly and peacefully, it would all end.

Then, all of the sudden, she felt arms around her, scooping her up and cradling her. It was comforting, and she felt as though she were no longer falling, but flying. With her eyes still closed, she wondered if it was all over now. But it was funny, she didn’t even remember hitting the pavement. But maybe that’s how it was after death. Maybe you’re never really conscious of the way you died once you wake up on the other side. But then Vianne remembered – she didn’t believe in all that Heaven and Hell nonsense. She never actually expected either to be renewed as some ethereal angel or be dragged to fiery inferno once she’d completed her fall. So what had happened?

Her eyes, still sore with tears, opened up at last. She saw hazily, as though half intoxicated, the face of a man. Illuminated by the moonlight, and yet at the same time cast in shadows by the black clouds above, Vianne couldn’t tell if it was an angel or demon she looked upon, but he was clearly no regular man. His face was handsome, chiseled, and the arms that carried her were able and strong. And yet his complexion was grey like ash, unless that was only the light of the moon upon it. But no, it couldn’t be, and when he looked down at her, she saw his eyes to be a fierce, startling red.

Her heart seemed to jolt, leaping into her throat and choking her. All of the sudden she was aware of the great, leathery wings beating in great strokes to keep them airborne. She stared wide-eyed, lips parted, up at the man, no, creature that carried her. She wanted to struggle away from the thing, but her limbs were fatigued and she felt rigid with shock, even terror. It was like a nightmare, and then the creature spoke. A thing like him she’d expect to hiss and speak something terrible, but he only asked if she was… alright.

“I-I…” Vianne rasped, trying to right herself in the thing’s arms. She sputtered for words but couldn’t seem to form a sentence. She looked down and suddenly the drop through open air seemed far more dizzying than from the top of her apartment building. Her head reeled and her body grew limp. “Put me down…” she muttered feebly, managing to squirm a little in his hold. “Please. Let me go.”

o n xxx n e xxx s a i t xxx j a m a i s

xx xx