Chapter 005
The final bell rang, and I stood frozen by my locker, my hands shaking as I gathered my books.
You're going to the Cullens' house. You're going to get answers.
The thought should have been comforting. Instead, it felt like standing at the edge of a cliff, knowing I was about to jump but not sure if there was water below or just rocks.
"Maya!" Angela appeared at my side, her backpack slung over one shoulder. "Want to grab coffee? Jessica and I are heading to—"
"I can't today. Sorry." The lie stuck in my throat. "Family thing."
"Oh. Okay." She looked disappointed but smiled anyway. "Tomorrow then?"
"Definitely."
I watched her walk away, guilt twisting in my stomach. Angela was a good person. A normal person. Someone who lived in a world where the laws of physics applied and mysterious families didn't have cold skin and impossible speed.
I wanted to be normal too. To go get coffee and gossip about homework and boys and mundane, safe things.
But normal was no longer an option.
"Ready?"
I spun around. Alice stood behind me, a bright smile on her perfect face, car keys dangling from one finger. She wore a designer coat that probably cost more than my truck, and her pixie-cut hair was artfully tousled despite the rain.
"I—yes. Ready." I closed my locker with more force than necessary. "Where's Edward?"
"He went ahead to prepare Carlisle." Her golden eyes sparkled with something that might have been amusement. "Don't worry. I'm an excellent driver."
That wasn't what I was worried about.
We walked to the parking lot together, Alice chattering easily about nothing important—the weather, a sale at some boutique in Port Angeles, how Emmett had broken another piece of furniture that morning. She was trying to put me at ease, I realized. And surprisingly, it was working.
Her car was a yellow Porsche that looked like it belonged in a magazine, not a high school parking lot.
"Nice ride," I managed.
"Isn't it? It was a birthday present from Esme. Well, technically every day could be a birthday when you've had as many as—" She stopped abruptly, then laughed. "Never mind. Get in."
I slid into the passenger seat, the leather soft and expensive beneath me. Alice started the engine with a purr that probably violated several noise ordinances.
"So," she said as we pulled out of the parking lot, "Edward tells me you felt his emotions in Biology."
Heat flooded my face. "I didn't mean to. It just... happened."
"Don't apologize. It's fascinating, actually." She turned onto the main road, driving with the same impossible grace with which she moved. "We've never encountered anyone like you before."
"What do you mean, 'anyone like me'? What am I?"
Alice's expression turned thoughtful. "That's what Carlisle will help us figure out. But Maya? Whatever you are, it's not a bad thing. Different doesn't mean dangerous."
"Edward seems to think it's dangerous."
"Edward thinks everything is dangerous." She rolled her eyes affectionately. "He's had a very long time to perfect the art of pessimism."
A long time. Like the decades of loneliness I'd felt when I'd touched him.
"How old is he, really?" The question slipped out before I could stop it.
Alice's smile turned mysterious. "Old enough to know better. Young enough to make terrible decisions anyway." She glanced at me. "He likes you, you know. It terrifies him, but he does."
My heart stuttered. "I felt that. When I touched him. I felt..." I trailed off, not sure how to describe that pull, that desperate attraction mixed with fear.
"I know. And he knows you felt it, which is probably driving him absolutely insane right now." She laughed, light and musical. "Poor Edward. First time in eighty years he's been interested in someone, and she can read his emotions like a book."
Eighty years.
The number should have shocked me. Instead, it felt right. That ancient loneliness, the weight of it—of course he'd lived that long. Of course he'd been alone.
We'd left the town behind, driving deeper into the forest on a narrow road that wound between enormous evergreens. The truck definitely couldn't have handled this terrain—the pavement was slick with rain and fallen needles, and the curves were sharp enough to make my stomach drop.
"Almost there," Alice said. "The house is just—"
A figure stepped into the road.
Alice slammed on the brakes. The Porsche fishtailed, tires screaming as she fought for control. We stopped inches from a man in a dirty jacket, his face hidden by a hood.
"What the—" Alice's expression hardened. "Stay in the car, Maya."
But the man wasn't alone. Two more figures emerged from the trees on either side of the road, moving with predatory slowness. They weren't quite right—their movements too fluid, their postures too aggressive.
My heightened senses kicked in. I could smell them even through the car's climate control—unwashed bodies, stale alcohol, and something else. Something wrong.
"Alice?" My voice came out small.
"It's okay." But her hands were tight on the steering wheel, her jaw set. "They're just trying to intimidate us. They'll move."
The man in front pulled back his hood. His face was gaunt, his eyes bloodshot, and when he smiled, I saw teeth stained yellow. He gestured for us to roll down the window.
Alice didn't move.
He slapped the hood of the car, the sound making me jump. Then he started walking toward my side, his smile widening.
"Alice," I said again, fear crawling up my spine.
"I know." Her voice was tight, controlled, but I heard the anger beneath it. "Hold on."
She started to reverse, but the two figures behind us had moved into the road, blocking our escape. We were surrounded.
The man reached my window. Tapped on the glass. Leered at me with those terrible teeth.
Then the door handle rattled.
"Drive!" I shouted.
"I can't—they're in the way—"
The forest exploded with movement.
Edward appeared from nowhere, moving faster than my eyes could track. One moment the man was at my window. The next, Edward had him by the jacket, lifting him off the ground like he weighed nothing.
"Get. Away. From. Her." Edward's voice was unrecognizable—cold, lethal, barely human.
The man made a choking sound. Edward's face was twisted with rage, his eyes almost black instead of gold, his lips pulled back to reveal—
No. Not possible.
But I saw them. Just for a second before he turned away. Teeth that were too sharp, too white. Not quite human.
The other two men scrambled backward, terror naked on their faces. Edward dropped the first man, who hit the pavement hard and didn't move. Then Edward turned to the others, and they ran.
They literally turned and ran into the forest like prey fleeing a predator.
Because that's what Edward was. A predator.
And I should have been terrified.
Instead, I felt safe.
Edward stood in the road for a moment, his chest heaving despite the fact that I wasn't sure he even needed to breathe. Then he turned to the car, and his eyes found mine through the window.
The black was fading back to gold. The inhuman edge to his features softening. But the intensity remained—a desperate, almost frantic concern that made my breath catch.
Alice rolled down her window. "Show off."
"Are you hurt?" Edward ignored her, his eyes never leaving my face. "Maya, are you hurt?"
I shook my head, not trusting my voice.
He was at my door in an instant. Pulled it open. Reached in with those cold hands that had just lifted a grown man like a rag doll.
"Let me see." His fingers touched my chin, tilting my face toward him. His touch was gentle, trembling slightly. "You're shaking."
"I'm fine. You—Edward, you just—"
"I know." His expression crumbled, fear and self-loathing flooding his features. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to see that. But when I heard them, when I realized they were threatening you—" He stopped, his jaw clenching. "I couldn't let them hurt you."
"How did you even know we were here?"
He looked away, guilt written across his face. "I was following you. I know I shouldn't have, but I was worried, and I—" He took a breath that seemed painful. "I'm not good at staying away from you, Maya. Even when I should be."
The admission hung in the air between us. Alice made a small sound that might have been a laugh.
"Well," she said brightly, "I think that answers the question of whether Edward can maintain appropriate boundaries. Spoiler alert: he cannot."
"Alice," Edward growled.
"What? It's true. You've been following her around like a lost puppy for days." She grinned at me. "It would be creepy if it wasn't so adorable."
I should have agreed. Should have been disturbed by the stalking, the possessiveness, the inhuman strength and speed. Should have demanded answers about what I'd just seen—those teeth, that blackness in his eyes.
Instead, I felt that pull again. That connection that had nothing to do with logic and everything to do with the raw emotions flooding through me from where his hand still touched my face.
Protection. Fierce, desperate protection.
Fear. Not of me, but for me.
And underneath it all, that same attraction I'd felt before. Stronger now. Undeniable.
"You were following me," I said slowly, "to keep me safe."
"Yes." No hesitation. No apology. Just simple truth.
"Because you're afraid something will hurt me."
"Yes."
"Even though I should probably be afraid of you."
His hand dropped from my face like I'd burned him. "Yes," he whispered. "Especially of me."
But I wasn't afraid. Even having seen what he could do, what he was capable of, I felt no fear. Just that overwhelming sense of connection, of rightness, that defied every rational instinct I possessed.
I stepped out of the car. Edward backed up immediately, putting distance between us, but I followed. Closed the gap. Looked up into those impossible golden eyes.
"What are you, Edward?"
He stared at me for a long moment. Then, so quietly I almost missed it: "A monster."
"No." The word came out fierce, certain. "You're not."
"You saw what I did. How I moved. My—" He stopped, unable to say it.
"I saw you save us." I reached out slowly, giving him time to pull away. He didn't. My fingers touched his hand, and the emotional connection slammed into place. I felt his warring emotions—the desire to protect me, the fear of hurting me, the self-hatred that ran bone-deep. And beneath it all, that pull toward me that matched my own. "I saw you being exactly what I needed you to be."
"Maya." My name on his lips sounded like a prayer and a curse. "You don't understand. You can't—"
"Then help me understand." I held his gaze. "Take me to your house. Let Carlisle explain. Because whatever you are, whatever I'm becoming, I'm not afraid of you. And I think that terrifies you more than anything."
He opened his mouth. Closed it. A dozen emotions flickered across his face—fear, hope, resignation, longing. Finally, he nodded.
"Okay," he said. "But Maya? When you know the truth, when you understand what I am..." He looked at me with such raw vulnerability that my heart ached. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
Alice appeared beside us, her expression knowing. "Are we done with the dramatic declarations? Because we're still standing in the middle of the road, and I'd really like to get home before Emmett eats all the good snacks."
"You don't eat," I said automatically.
She grinned. "See? You're already learning. Come on. Carlisle's waiting."
Edward didn't let go of my hand as we got back into the car. Alice drove, I sat in the passenger seat, and Edward materialized in a Mercedes behind us, following close.
The man on the road was gone—run off or dragged away, I didn't know. I didn't care.
All I cared about was that in a few minutes, I would finally get answers.
And as the Cullen house came into view through the trees—a massive, beautiful structure that looked like something from a dream—I realized I'd passed the point of no return.
Whatever happened next would change everything.
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