Frozen Spring by meadowc

A Fan Fiction Story Based on Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight Series

Rated M for Mature

Summary:

Bella moves to Forks for a change of scenery after leaving her fiancé. She didn't expect to find
that her inherited house would throw her into a world filled with mystic secrets and vengeful
spirits. Will she end up a casualty? AU/AH, M.

***

Chapter: 1


A/N: This is my first foray into the wonderful world of multi-chaptered fan fiction. Thanks to
The League for all their awesome support, along with SSherrill115 and Cheryl (the best
pre-readers anywhere.) I'd also like to thank the amazing ladies at Project Team Beta for hooking
me up with OMEohmyedward and Erin. I'm convinced that no matter how hard I try there will
always be errors in my comma usage. If you find any it's not their fault. I may have an incurable
case of comma-itis.

Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is
intended. All original plot belongs to me because playing with my Bella and Edward Sims got
boring.


Charlie raced up the stairs two at a time, leaving the front door hanging open in his haste to get
to Renee. "I got a call saying there was screaming coming from the house. Are you okay?" He
took in the sight before him. Renee was bent over the bed, sobbing. Clothes and books were
strewn everywhere and a half-packed suitcase lay open beside her. He rushed to her side and
took her in his arms. "Talk to me, tell me what's wrong." he pled with her.

Jerking herself out of his arms, she began pacing the room, tears streaming down her face. "I
can't do this anymore!"

"Do what? What do you mean?"

She gestured wildly at the room. "This! All of it! I can't stay here. I can't take one more night in
this house." She turned to face him, her red-rimmed eyes pleading with him to understand. "I'm
leaving. Tonight."

"Leaving? Where are you going? How can you do this to us?" Charlie asked, stunned.

Renee resumed her frantic packing, stuffing her self-help books and knitting supplies into the
empty half of the suitcase. "I'm going to back to Phoenix. I've already called my mother and she's
setting up the guest room for me until I can find a place of my own."

Charlie moved toward her. "Honey, I know it's been hard on you since Bella was born. I've heard
about how everything changes, so I'm sure you're just feeling hormones or something. If there's
something you need, you have to tell me." he said, trying to grab her hands to stop her from
moving.

"You can't help! You're never here, you're off at that job and I never know if you'll be coming
back. Then what am I going to do, all alone in this huge house? I know someone is watching me
when you're not here. I can feel it. I'm sure it's her, she never liked me, she doesn't want me
here."

Charlie scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to force himself to be calm. "I know I'm out a lot
on patrols, Renee, but you know as well as I do that nothing ever happens here. I'll always come
home to you and Bella." He tried again to still her movements. "Renee, look at me. There is
nothing wrong with this house. It's all in your head, you're just overwhelmed. The idea that
something is watching you during the day is just..." he trailed off, letting the word 'crazy' hang in
the air, unsaid.

She swirled around to face him, knitting needles still in her hands, "Don't you dare call me crazy
Charles Swan! You know I'm not crazy. I've always been sensitive to this sort of thing. I won't
stay here, I won't let her get me or Bella."

Charlie's hands fell limply to his side. "Look, I know you didn't like the idea of moving into Aunt
Esme's house so soon after she passed, but we needed the space. If it's that bad we can go back to
the apartment. I know it hasn't been rented yet. I can make a few calls..."

"Stop it!" she screamed, cutting him off. "You're not listening. It's not just this house. It's this
whole place. This whole godforsaken town reeks of sadness, of loss. I will not raise my daughter
here. She will not end up stuck here!" With that, Renee slammed the suitcase closed and stormed
out of the room. Charlie trailed helplessly behind her as she banged the door to Bella's room
open, waking her up and making her cry.

"Now look what you did! You woke her up!" Renee snapped, grabbing the bag she'd already
packed for their infant daughter. Charlie reached down and picked Bella up as Renee marched
out of the room and down the stairs. Bella stopped her crying and stared up at her father with
wide brown eyes.

"Renee," he called after her, looking down into the eyes so like his own. "Can't we try to make
this work? For Bella?"

Renee paused at the front door before letting out a breath and walking out. She threw the bags in

the back of her car and walked back up the stairs, taking Bella from Charlie's arms. "What I'm
doing is for Bella. Goodbye Charlie," she raised her eyes to meet his. He could see the resolve
there. Renee was never going to set foot in this house again. With that, she turned and left.

Charlie watched the car until it faded from view on the drive and then walked back into the old
Victorian that had been in his family for generations. His eyes fell on an antique vase near the
entry that had been knocked over somehow. He bent down and picked up shards of porcelain that
used to be an elaborate rose on the side. "How am I supposed to fix this?" he wondered aloud.

He wasn't talking about the vase.

****************************** 22 Years Later*******************************

Bella slowed her small Coupé and came to a stop at the only light in town. As she waited for the
light to change from red to green she examined the town around her. She was amazed at how
little had changed since she had last been in Forks over 10 years ago. It was the same small, slow
town she remembered. Wet and misty, everything covered in green, it was peaceful in its
consistency. It was easy to see her father coming from this place. Charlie might as well have
been molded from the earth beneath one of the giant cedars outside her car window. It was a
testament to his love for her and her mother that he ever left .

Her mother Renee was his exact opposite. The only things about her that were consistent were
her love for them and her abhorrence for this small town. Just months after Bella had been born
she'd packed up and announced that she couldn't live in Forks anymore. At first he thought that it
was a phase. Renee was prone to dramatics and would often flit from one project to another. He
was sure she'd get bored in Phoenix and agree to come home. When she'd been gone for seven
months it finally hit him. On the day of Bella's first birthday he realized she wasn't coming back.
So Charlie made a choice. He resigned from the Forks Police Department and moved to Phoenix.

Bella had been too young to remember a time when her father wasn't around. Her parents were
her constants, steady Charlie and free-spirited Renee. The mother Bella knew was dramatic but
not unreasonable. She taught art classes at the community college and rotated through a host of
other artistic pursuits in her efforts to 'better herself' and 'find her own truth.' Bella would just
smile and shake her head each semester as Renee brought out pamphlets and catalogues to help
decide what her next adventure would be.

Charlie would spend a few weeks every summer in Forks. He hadn't sold the house he'd inherited
and instead used the modest inheritance that had come with it to maintain it over the years. His
friend Billy Black kept an eye on the place and Charlie would approve repairs during his yearly
visit. He'd often bring Bella along and she'd putter around the old house exploring the rooms. As
an adolescent she felt like the closed off rooms hid treasure beneath the sheets, antiques just
waiting to spill their secrets to her. Renee would never come on these trips and would push for
Bella to stay home each year. The summer Bella turned thirteen Renee got her wish, convincing
Bella she'd be happier taking summer art workshops than sitting in a boat with Charlie and Billy.
Bella hadn't been back to Forks since. Until now.

She accelerated as the light turned green, quickly passing by the small smattering of shops that
made up downtown Forks. She noted an antique dealer and vintage dress shop beside the
hardware store. Those two stores hadn't been there when she was last here. It was proof that even
Forks could grow, at least a little. She smiled to herself and patted the furry head beside her.
"Even the new stores in Forks sell old things, Will." She was rewarded with a lick before her
German Shepherd resumed examining the town through the window.

Soon enough she was turning off of the main street and winding through the forest. After a few
minutes she saw the private drive that led to the house. The trees and bushes that lined the drive
had grown wild and she could see the slash marks from where Billy and his son must've cleared
it in preparation for her arrival. She hadn't thought to call them to let them know she'd be
coming, however. "Thanks Charlie," she breathed, truly thankful that she wouldn't have to pick
her way through the brush for the half mile that it took to make it back to the house.

As the house came into view she let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. In front of
her stood a stately old Victorian home, built when her father's family had moved into the area in
the 1850s. The columns adorning the wrap-around porch were just as magical as she
remembered, although they were significantly less large. What had seemed to be a mansion to
her ten-year-old mind was now put into perspective as a good-sized farmhouse. It was a classic
example of gothic revival architecture. Charlie had explained that his Aunt Esme studied
architecture and had lovingly restored the one-hundred-year-old family home in 1960. She eyed
the gingerbread trim. It needed a new paint job as the original white had faded to a whitish-grey.
The leaded glass windows were dark in the dim light but thankfully intact. The clearing
surrounding it was overrun with weeds and tall grasses, but the house seemed to be in good
shape. Charlie had been keeping up with general repairs. "A little bit of elbow grease and this'll
be a place Great Aunt Esme would be proud of. You ready to see your new home, Willow?"

The dog whined excitedly as Bella opened her door and stepped out. Willow bounded out past
her and began sniffing the bushes around the stairs. Bella took a deep breath, letting the misty air
fill her with the scent of grass and pines. "You're lucky you've got a thick coat, girl." she said,
rubbing her arms against the chill. She'd only ever been to Forks during the summers and it was
quite different in June than September. She patted Willow on the head before continuing up to
the porch.

She paused with her hand on the railing, remembering her last summer here. It was then that
she'd learned of her parents rocky first years of marriage. She'd been exploring upstairs and had
found an old secretary desk. When Charlie came home from fishing with Billy she'd practically
attacked him about it, meeting him on the front porch.

"Have you seen the desk upstairs in the study? It's perfect! I just have an old folding table in my
room now, can't we take it home?"

Charlie paused and seemed to collect himself before answering. "I don't really think that's a
good idea..."

"Why not? I don't understand, it just sits here covered with a sheet until we come, just once a

year." she'd argued.

"Honey," he'd said, turning to look at her, "you're a smart girl. You know your mother doesn't
like this place. I don't think we should take anything home that reminds her of it."

She paused, trying to decide if she was above whining. She had begun to notice her mother's
displeasure each year and curiosity finally got the better of her. She had so many questions
about the arrangement, about her mother, but she settled on the simplest one.

"Why? Why does Mom hate it here?"

Charlie sighed and sat down on the top step, patting the wood beside him. "Well, she had a real
hard time after you were born. I was working all sorts of crazy shifts. I was just a rookie and she
was all alone in this big house with you. I think it just got to be too much."

"But it got better, so why won't she come with us now? This is where you met, right? Where you
got married and had me so it has to have somevalue to her." Bella pursed her lips and waited.
She knew there was something more to the story.

Charlie looked up at the trees, as if searching for the answer there, before turning back to his
daughter. "Your mom said that she felt things, heard things in this house. She said the house was
haunted. She refused to live here."

Bella looked at her dad, stunned. "But that's crazy!"

Charlie chuckled. "I made the mistake of implying the same thing." He turned serious then.
"Bella, your mother left me. You were only two months old and suddenly you were both gone."

"Left you?" Bella couldn't believe it. Her parents were different but they'd always seemed happy.

"Yes. She moved in with your grandmother. I kept thinking she'd change her mind and come
back, but finally I realized that she wasn't going to. So I moved to Phoenix too, to be close to you
and get her back." He smiled at her, brushing her hair out of her face. "I'm not going to sugar
coat it, Bells. It was real rough, but it wasn't anyone's fault. Marriages take work. I made the
right choice; I just wish it hadn't taken me so long to see it."

Bella's attention turned back to the present as she moved to the front door and placed her key in
the lock. As she stepped over the threshold she was filled with a feeling of warmth. She'd always
felt like this was her home, a place where she belonged. She appreciated older things, antiques,
things with a history. As she grew she had realized how special this house was. In it, she didn't
have to be an artist, a student, a cook, or anything else that came with having Renee as a mom.
Instead she was just Bella. Charlie let her be and she loved him all the more for it.

He wasn't an overly sentimental man and his declarations of love were rare but genuine. He
accepted Renee as she was. He allowed her to be flighty and try new things but kept her
grounded at the same time. Bella marveled at how he could have uprooted his life like that and

not resent Renee even a little bit. When she asked him about it not long after she graduated he
had smiled and said, "One day you'll fall in love and you'll understand. There isn't any choice but
love." She couldn't help but wonder why love had to be Charlie's choice instead of Renee's.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Willow's possessive growling. She was staring at a stand of
trees to the left of the house, intent on some unseen prowler. "Will, it's probably just a squirrel."
Bella tried to reassure her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she realized that she
was at least a mile away from any other human.

"Solitude comes with a few drawbacks," she muttered, sprinting down the stairs and grabbing her
suitcases out of the backseat of her car. "Let's get inside before it gets dark, girl."

With that she lugged the heavy bags up and into the house. Willow reluctantly followed her
inside, still growling, and Bella dead-bolted the door behind her. Thankful that she'd at least
thought to have the electricity turned back on, she flipped the switch and flooded the room with
light. "That's better, huh?" she said, pulling sheets off of the couches and sitting down. "This
peace and quiet of country living will take some getting used to. We were probably scared to
death of a raccoon."

Willow stared at her expectantly and Bella realized she'd left the coolers of food she'd brought in
the trunk, along with the dog food. She pushed herself up off the couch and flipped the bolt,
laughing at herself as she called Willow to come with her. "I'm not going out there alone!" she
explained to the dog.

She made two quick trips, depositing coolers and bags on the porch. On the third run her feet
slipped on the wet gravel and she fell, skinning her hands as she caught herself. She felt a chill
and gasped, smearing blood across her forehead as she tried to brush her hair out of her eyes. She
looked around the edges of the clearing for signs of life. She could swear she felt something
watching her but tried to shake it off. From her spot on the ground the house was a beacon of
warmth. Yellow light from the living room washed over the porch and projected a feeling of
safety. Willow nudged her out of her spot and they hurried back onto the porch. Rushing back
into the house with her hands full she failed to notice the curtains falling into place in the upstairs
window or the pale face watching her from the trees.


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Chapter: 2


A/N I'd like to thank my friend secondglantz who has been invaluable to this process, along with
ssherrill115 for pre-reading. I'd also like to thank PTB for helping me by providing me with
Sophia and Rachel, who did a fabulous job of fixing all of my terrible grammatical mistakes. As
always, thanks to The League for all their support. Finally, if you haven't done so already, head

over to http://thefandomgivesback(dot)blogspot(dot)com and show your support for Alex's
Lemonade in their fight against childhood cancer. Thank you for reading! Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Twilight, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or anything else mentioned and
no copyright infringement is intended. I totally wish I did, though. Can you imagine if Joss
Whedon made a Twilight musical? *dies*

****

Bella stopped running and looked around, hoping for a clue as to her location. She could barely
see the icy clouds of her breath in the moonlight as it filtered through the trees. It was cold. It
was damp. It was dark. On top of all that, there was definitely something chasing her. If she
could just make it back to the house, she could grab her phone and call for help. Help from what?
she thought.

That was the problem. How was she supposed to report something when she didn't know what
that something was? With that thought, she heard a rustling behind her as something large burst
through the bushes. She swirled to face her pursuer, her dark hair glistening black in the
moonlight as it whipped around her face. Her face was a picture of concentration, stark contrast
to her wildly beating heart. She felt around in her leather jacket for something to defend herself
with. She calmed slightly as her fingers wrapped around the sturdy shaft of her weapon, taking
care to keep its sharp point away from her.

"Come out. I know you're there." she commanded.

A figure stepped slowly out of the shadows. His skin was so pale that it seemed to glow in the
dim light. Her eyes raked over the smooth skin of his bare chest, the familiar curve of his
shoulders. She exhaled and relaxed, recognizing the man standing before her.

"What are you doing here? Did you follow me to Forks?"

As she looked into his eyes, demanding an answer with her glare, she realized that there was
something wrong. This was not the face of the man she had once loved. This was the face of a
cold-blooded killer. His face twisted, sneering, and as he lunged for her, she ducked into him.
She hit him with all the force her she could muster, shoulder into his sternum. She heard him
grunt and fall back. Instantly, she was on top of him, the sharp point of her weapon held above
his heart. Looking from her face to the stake at his chest, Mike attempted a laugh.

"Sweets, I just came to tell you that Angel and I are making it official."

Rolling her eyes, she lifted herself up from her spot on her former fiancée. "And you what? Want
me to bear witness to your midnight Canadian nuptials? Did you give him my ring, too?"

Mike began to look wary, his watery blue eyes shifting from side to side. "Well, see, the thing
is... Angel and I are really attached to Willow. I think she deserves to live in a two-parent home,
not up here with you, all alone in that creepy house."

"How dare you!" she seethed, knocking him to the ground. "It's bad enough that you decided to
come out to me two weeks before our wedding. I even agreed to keep your secret from inquiring
minds up here. But to try to take Willow away from me? I. Don't. Think. So."

Pinning him down with her knees, she shoved the stake into his ribcage.

"You always liked to be on top, Bella." he sighed in defeat, before scattering into ashes before
her eyes. The spot he had occupied began to glow and expand, the light lapping at her face.
"What the he...."

lick lick lick

Bella sat up, disoriented, and pushed Willow away from her face. "Okay, I get it. You want to go
out," she mumbled. She fumbled around for the blanket and sat up. She had fallen asleep on the
couch, too tired after her drive to explore the upstairs. "I knew that one last Buffy marathon with
Mike was a bad idea," she muttered to herself.

Padding over to the front door, she peered through the leaded glass window and onto the sunny
front yard. It was a rare clear day in Forks and would be a good day to scout out her property.

She still couldn't believe that all this was really hers. She had tried to tell her father that she
would just rent the place from him, but he had refused. He said that Esme would've loved to see
her settled in the house and that it was in her will instructions that it stay in the family. So he
drew up the papers and signed the deed over to her before her move. He said it was a 'late
graduation/early birthday present.' She knew it was really more to give her a space of her own to
sort through things. She loved him dearly for it. Charlie was secretly overjoyed that she and
Mike Newton had called off their engagement even though he tried to pretend otherwise. Renee,
on the other hand, was devastated. She had been more excited than Bella about the impending
wedding.

Bella opened the door and walked out into the crisp fall air. Less than a month ago, she had
imagined today so much differently. She would have been in Angela's apartment in LA,
nervously pacing and considering popping a Xanax. Words like 'cherish' and 'forever' would
have been chasing each other around in her mind until she was ready to pass out. Instead, she
was sitting on her porch preparing to start her future here. And Mike? Well, Mike was about to
embark on their honeymoon cruise with his soul-mate.

She smiled wryly, wondering how she could've been so blind. It wasn't that she had been in a
rush to marry or settle down. She had no deep maternal stirrings like some of her other friends in
her master's program. It was more that she hadn't been able to see herself doing anything
differently. She'd met Mike when she was junior at UCLA. He'd sat a row behind her in her
abnormal psych class. The professor was a pompous ass who should've retired about twenty
years prior and was too proud to wear the hearing aids he so desperately needed. Mike's running
commentary about the adventures of the pretentious professor had made her laugh so hard that
Dr. Snyder almost heard her. He had been funny, sort of a dork, and totally non-threatening. It

took two classes for Mike to attach himself to her side.

When they finally started dating a year later, it was more for convenience. They were
comfortable. Bella had been in relationships that had more physical passion than her relationship
with Mike, but she assumed that their friendship-turned-placid-love was just more mature and
less hormonal than the others. They had rented a townhouse together when they entered graduate
school and had adopted Willow. It was a natural step to go from playing house to making it
official.

They'd named Willow after a character on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Every Sunday night, they'd
order Chinese food and watch an episode of Buffy. It was on one of those nights that he
proposed. There was no fanfare or special dinner. He just set down his carton of beef lo mein
from Green Dragon, dug into his pocket, and handed her a ring. They had waited to set a
date;they were in no real hurry while they were both finishing their master's degrees.

In May, facing job searches and non-academic realities, they'd set the date: September 20th.
Today. When Mike had come home from Green Dragon two weeks ago, she knew something
was up. He had ordered cream cheese rangoons, which was a surefire way to butter her up, and
wouldn't meet her eye. Setting the food down on the counter, he'd turned to her and had forced
out the words she had known were coming: "Bella, we need to talk."

She wasn't nearly as shocked as she should have been when he had announced that he'd found
love - real fiery, passionate love. What was shocking was that he had found it in the arms of the
florist they'd hired for the wedding. A florist named Eric. If she'd been less wrapped up in herself
and actually looked at her relationship, she knew she wouldn't have found it so surprising. After
all, she really should've picked up on the fact that Mike took their Angel versus Spike debates a
little too seriously. No straight man could've cared that much about David Boreanaz's hair.

Apparently Mike and Eric had grown up together in Forks but had lost contact when Mike had
moved to Sacramento after middle school. Bella always thought it was funny that she and Mike
could've grown up together. Instead, she never crossed his path. He was always away on trips
with his parents when she would visit. She remembered Charlie talking about it when they
expanded their little sporting goods store in Forks into a chain and moved corporate headquarters
to Sacramento. When she and Mike met, it took them a while to figure out that he was that
Newton and that she was that Swan. They'd joke about moving back there someday, but where
Mike's tone was derisive hers was wistful.

So now she'd come full circle. Forks seemed to be like a web, silken threads wrapping around
her and pulling her back no matter where she went. Looking out over her yard, she knew why.
This was where she belonged. She whistled for Willow and walked back into the house to
prepare for her day. "First things first, Will," she said through a yawn and pulled out the dog
food.

Once Willow was fed, she dug through her things until she found her small coffee pot. She
examined the scratches on her hands while waiting for the blessed liquid to brew.

"Should we go take a look around those trees today?" she asked, looking at Willow as if she
expected an answer. The dog nudged her thigh in response and Bella absentmindedly scratched
behind her ears. "We should probably start by checking out the rest of the house, huh?"

She poured herself a cup of coffee and rummaged through her bags until she found a granola bar.
Taking a bite, she glanced around the kitchen, trying to decide where to start. The house may not
have been the mansion it once appeared, but the thought of cleaning the whole thing made it
seem plenty large. Fortunately, Charlie normally had it cleaned professionally the week before
his visit every year, meaning it only had a few months worth of dust. Eager to explore, she
popped the rest of the granola bar in her mouth and headed up the kitchen stairs.

The house had two sets of stairs, one in the foyer that led up to the second floor and then one off
the kitchen that had a second floor landing before continuing to the third floor attic. Pausing on
the second floor landing, Bella looked up toward the attic door. Light streamed into the stairwell
from a clover-shaped window to her right and instead of dust and old paper, she caught a faint
whiff of vanilla and cinnamon as the heat kicked on. With a sigh, she turned away from the attic,
deciding to save the exploration as a reward for cleaning the second floor. The warm cinnamon
smell gave her hope that it wouldn't take too long and that she'd be rummaging through old
trunks for antique treasures before she lost the light.

The upstairs held three bedrooms and a bathroom. She skipped the two smaller rooms and
headed straight for the master, knowing that her back would thank her for having a place other
than the couch to sleep tonight. The room was inviting despite the disuse. The walls were painted
a mossy green, which complimented the deep mahogany of the antique four- poster bed and
matching armoire. Charlie hadn't used this room after Renee left, but it had still been diligently
cleaned each year.

She ran her hand across the fine linens that her Great Aunt Esme had purchased on her
honeymoon in Paris. Once, when she was eight, Charlie had caught her using the silk coverlet as
a tent. He'd carefully folded up the delicate white comforter and sat her down beside it.

"Bella, honey," he started hesitantly. "I know you understand that some things are special. This
was special to Esme. She and her husband Carlisle bought this during their honeymoon just after
World War II. They were planning on coming back here to start a family, but Carlisle never
made it."

"What happened?" Bella asked in a hushed voice.

"Well, Esme didn't talk about it much and I never felt like prying. All I know is that there was an
accident in Europe. Esme came home a widow and never remarried."

"Was she sad?" Bella asked.

"I suppose so," he responded, rubbing his mustache. "She never let us kids see it, though. We
used to love coming up here to visit. Aunt Esme spoiled us something fierce. Sometimes she'd
look at us and look a little wistful, but never sad."

Bella came to request "Aunt Esme" stories from Charlie when they would visit. He'd sit in the
kitchen and talk about the amazing pies she used to bake. While catching fireflies, he told her
about the firefly house she had helped him make once out of twigs and a large lemonade jug. He
thought the fireflies had survived in there for an entire summer. It wasn't until he was older that
he realized she'd released them and caught new ones when he'd visit. Esme seemed to have filled
the house with warmth and love despite her own sorrows. It made Bella smile to imagine her
father as a child, sitting on the porch, eating chocolate chip cookies. She suspected that Renee
wasn't haunted by Esme's ghost, but by the larger-than-life example of motherhood that Esme
was to Charlie.

After a while, Bella's stomach started grumbling and she decided to take a break. She'd stripped
the bed in the master bedroom and put her own sheets on, dusted and cleaned, and had finished
her list of minor repairs. She had a few things she needed from the hardware store and one of the
faucet handles in the bathroom needed replacing. She hoped she could find something similar at
the antique store she'd passed in town.

"Alright gal, lets get you out for a little walk and then we'll head into town," she told Willow.
"It's really a good thing you're here, girl. Otherwise if someone walked in on me, they'd think I
was crazy. You know I'd still be thinking out loud even if you weren't here."

Rewarded with a wet happy lick, she followed Willow down the stairs and out the front door.
"We might as well investigate those trees, huh?" Willow had been of the same mindset and was
already off into the thicket surrounding the clearing. "Don't get too far ahead!" she puffed,
running after her. Wishing she'd grabbed her jacket, Bella entered the dense woods surrounding
her house. She was struck by how quiet it was. Normally one would expect to hear birds and
other woodland creatures. Instead, it was silent. She shivered. The shade was quite a bit cooler
than the sunny porch steps. "I can't believe I'm scared of some trees in the middle of the day,"
she muttered to herself, trying to shake off the cold that was building in her stomach.

She couldn't get past the feeling that something just wasn't right. After a few minutes wandering
around, she realized she'd committed the cardinal sin of exploring and had no idea where she
was. She thought the house was to her left and knew that eventually she'd reach a fence if she
kept going. Charlie had fenced the property when he inherited it to keep hunters from coming
onto his land. As long as the 'racoons' "raccoons" haven't torn it away in the 26 years since he
did it, she thought.

"Willow!" she called, wishing for the thick fur to wrap her fingers through. She felt safe with
Willow around and couldn't imagine where she could've gotten to. Just as she was about to call
Willow's name again, she pushed through a thick bush and found herself in a small clearing.
Sitting on the other side of a large boulder was Willow, looking as though she'd been impatiently
awaiting Bella's entrance.

"What is it girl? Did you find the raccoon?" she asked. She could hear water flowing just in the
distance and her curiosity outweighed her unease. She caught a hint of something floral in the air
mixed with the faint smell of leather. She couldn't place it, but it felt like it was coming from the

direction of the water. As she stepped forward, she gasped at the cold. The temperature had
suddenly dropped, and she could see her breath in the air.

She was nearing the boulder when Willow stood up and growled, fur sticking up around her
neck.

"Willow? What's wrong?" Bella glanced over her shoulder but didn't see anyone. "Are you
growling at me?" she asked, incredulous.

All of her unease from earlier came back to her full-force and she broke out in a cold sweat.
Willow began barking ferociously, drool flying from her razor-sharp teeth. "Willow!" Bella
screeched as the dog launched herself in Bella's direction.

Bella instinctively flung her arms over her head and dropped to the ground. Willow overshot her
and Bella heard a yelp from behind. Looking up from her spot on the ground, Bella found
Willow standing on a man's chest. Bella's relief that her dog hadn't turned into Cujo was
short-lived, however, when she realized that she was in the middle of a forest with no weapon
and an unknown assailant. She stood to run, hoping Willow could keep him down until she could
make it to the house.

"Bella! Jesus Christ, it's just me! Call it off! Call it off!!!"

Bella slowly advanced on the prone figure. "Jacob?" she asked as relief flooded her body. "Oh,
thank God, it's just you Jake!" She dusted off her jeans and then ran forward to help him up.
"Will, it's fine. We know him, he's a friend."

Willow reluctantly backed away from him and Jacob pushed himself up to a sitting position
before taking Bella's offered hand. "Well, that's one way to welcome a visitor."

Seeing the glare that Bella turned on him, Jacob backtracked slightly. "I did sneak up on you, I
realize that now, but I was afraid you'd wandered in here and gotten lost."

Bella flushed slightly, reluctant to admit the truth in the statement. "How about if we just head
back and clean up a bit, hm?"

Laughing, Jacob flung an arm over her shoulder. "It's been years Bells! Dad sent me over to help
with a couple of things he noticed needed fixing. He also sent me with sandwiches. They're on
the porch."

"I suppose I can forgive you for being a creepy woods stalker if you brought sandwiches," she
laughed.

She carefully observed the way out, determined not to find herself quite so lost again. She knew
that Willow hadn't been sitting in the clearing for nothing, but for some reason she wanted to
explore it alone. It just didn't feel right to ask Jacob to go digging around the forest for a
"feeling" she was having.

Despite the warmth she felt from being reunited with an old friend, she still couldn't help but feel
that the woods held something secret and not altogether friendly.


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Chapter: 3


A/N: I'd like to thank those of you who are coming over here from the thread on Twilighted and
for everyonde who's recommended this story. It means a lot that people already love it as much
as I do. Thanks to TallulahBelle for the amazing banner and for introducing me to
keepingupwiththekids and dolphin62598, who have agreed to be my betas and helped me
polish this up for y'all. Finally, big big thanks to secondglantz, who is my third beta and my
official cheerleader/hand-holder. I hope you all enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. I do own an
obscene amount of Twilight-related merchandise and an incredibly overactive imagination.


"So, what's it like being left at the altar for a guy?" Jacob smirked at her.

Stunned, Bella dropped her sandwich on her lap and gaped at the large man sitting beside her.
"How do you know -" she managed to squeak out before collecting herself. "I mean, I don't know
what you're talking about. Mike and I just decided to part ways. It was amicable."

Grinning, Jacob raised an eyebrow and leaned back against the porch railing. "That's not what I
heard."

Bella sighed and began picking at the bread on her sandwich nervously. "What, exactly, did you
hear?"

Jacob set his sandwich down and locked his hands behind his head. "Well, you remember Quil,
don't you? Skinny kid who used to throw seaweed in your hair? Well, Quil's girlfriend happens
to be a sophomore at UCLA. She was at some exhibit at the museum of natural history or
something -"

"You mean the Fowler Museum?" Bella interrupted.

"I guess. I wasn't paying attention to that part, because the good part is when she turned a corner
and saw Eric Yorkie making out with another guy. People always said he was light in the loafers
and all, but it's another thing to actually see it."

"Tell me about it," Bella muttered. "I don't see how she knew that he was with Mike, though."

"You obviously haven't been in town long enough to read the paper," Jacob said, laughing. "The
Newtons may have moved their headquarters to Sacramento, but they left their heart – and more
importantly, their parents – in Forks. She recognized Mike from the pictures of the Newton
family that always seem to find a way into the local paper."

"Oh please don't tell me that everyone knows," Bella pleaded with him.

"Um... Well, it is a small town, Bells..." Jacob had the good sense to look sheepish at this
admission.

Bella groaned. "How am I supposed to go into town now? I'm going to get pity stares. And
what's worse is that Mike is going to think that I outed him to the whole town."

Jacob's shoulders began to shake with his laughter. "No, you don't have to worry about that. We
knew before you got here."

Bella narrowed her eyes and glared at Jacob. "How long ago was this, Jake?"

"She told us when she came back for the summer."

"You've known since May?!" Bella buried her face in her hands. "Was anyone going to tell me?"

"Well, it wasn't like anyone around here kept up with you. What was I going to do, have Billy
mention it to your dad?"

Bella stifled a giggle at the thought of that conversation as Jacob continued. "Besides, you don't
exactly seem very broken up about it."

"I guess you're right," Bella nodded. "I always knew we weren't going to be 'together forever' and
no, I'm not exactly broken up about it. I'm relieved. So, if you're done mocking my ability to
choose men, can we get this show on the road?" she motioned toward the house with her free
hand while she popped the rest of her sandwich into her mouth with the other.

"Sounds good," Jacob replied, looking at his watch.

"Why don't we do a walkthrough together so I know what I need to pick up at the hardware
store?" Bella asked.

Jacob stood and offered his hand, helping Bella to her feet. "What're you going to do here, Bells?
Did you really get an advanced degree just to become the crazy cat lady who lives in the old
haunted house?"

"Crazy dog lady," Bella replied, gesturing toward Willow lying on the porch next to them. "And
this 'old haunted house' is the perfect place for me to set up my studio. I managed to sell the

series on food-as-art that I used for my final project, and the publisher wants me to do a series of
enhanced images of the Hoh forest."

"Good for you! Will I get a signed print from the artist herself?" he asked.

"Of course you will, Jake! I actually want to do a series based on First Beach and the cliffs too. I
was hoping I could talk to you into being my guide."

Jacob grinned. "I'd love to."

After about a half-hour, they'd determined which of the repairs were simple and for which ones
they needed extra supplies. Jacob decided that a few hours after work for the next couple of days
would be plenty of time to make the repairs. He refused to acknowledge Bella's protests.

"I can't leave you out here with spotty hot water and windows that won't lock, now can I?
Besides, what's the point of owning my own business if I can't take off early for a few days to
help an old friend?"

"Well, at least let me cook you dinner or something."

"I appreciate it, but I'd hate to leave Billy and Leah without dinner..." Jake replied, frowning.

Bella gasped. "That's right! I can't believe I forgot to ask! How is the wedding planning going?"

"Fortunately, it's going very smoothly without me. Leah and Sue have swatches and flowers
everywhere. I just nod and agree to whatever they want."

"Smart man," Bella replied, winking at him. "Just stay away from the florist, okay?"

Jacob snorted. "I don't think Leah has to worry about that. You haven't seen Mrs. Cope."

Laughing, Bella grabbed the broken, ceramic faucet handle. "I'm going to head into town and
check out that antique store. Maybe they've salvaged some similar handles from older houses."

"Good luck with that. The chick that runs that place is nice, but odd. She's been out to the
reservation a few times to talk to Billy about ancient Quileute 'spirit rituals,'" Jacob motioned
into the air above his head as if he was batting away invisible spirits. "As if we have ancestors
flitting around all the time. I swear, people think that living on the reservation means that we're
some sort of deep spiritualists who sit around in a circle singing about our fallen warriors all
day."

Grinning, Bella headed out the door. "Don't worry, Jake. I don't think of you as being deep or
spiritual at all."

Laughing, Jake tossed the grease rag he had been holding at her retreating form. "Watch your
mouth, Bella! I am the one in charge of your hot water heater."

Bella was still smiling about her lunch with Jacob when she pulled her car to a stop in front of
the antique store. She didn't realize how much she had missed the easy banter they had shared as
children. Billy had brought him to visit in Phoenix a few times, but he was always more relaxed
here. Shaking her head, she realized that the same could be said about her. She felt open here.
Rather than question the whys and hows of feeling home in a place she hadn't seen in years, she
decided to simply be thankful for the peace. Now I just have to figure out what's going on in the
woods around the house.

With that thought, she pushed open the door to the antique store. Stepping inside, she realized
that the antique store and the vintage dress shop were actually two halves of the same store. She
was immediately assaulted with the welcoming scents of old fabric and oiled wood. Despite the
furniture and decorative debris stuffed into every corner, the store had an airy quality about it.
Pieces were arranged into mock living spaces that seemed to flow smoothly together. They drew
the customer in without being suffocating. As she was running her hands over an Edwardian
wingback chair, she heard a tinkling noise behind her.

Turning around, she examined the tiny woman in front of her. She had a sleek black bob, her
bangs clipped back with what appeared to be a vintage comb, and she was wearing a red dress
with matching heels. The dress was a riot of patterns, and Bella was sure that if she tried to wear
it, she'd look like a fabric store threw up on her. In the pixie-esque proportions of the shop girl,
however, it worked.

"Hi, I'm Alice!" The tinkling resumed, Alice's bracelets clinking together as she extended her
hand.

"It's always so nice to see someone new around here," she said excitedly, taking Bella's hand and
shaking it vigorously. Bella followed the swinging of Alice's chandelier earrings with her eyes,
mesmerized by the energy that seemed to vibrate out of the tiny woman.

Alice continued without waiting for Bella to respond. "You must have moved into the old Swan
house. I can't imagine the fabulous old furniture you must have! I'd heard about it when I moved
here, of course, because everyone knows about the Swan house, but I was so thrilled when I
heard someone was moving back." Suddenly Alice looked horrified and gripped Bella's hand
harder. "Oh, you're not going to do anything dreadful like rip it down and build some
post-modern contemporary eyesore, are you?"

"Um, no, I wouldn't dream of it," Bella responded, trying to keep up with Alice's rambling
introduction.

Alice's face softened slightly, and she stared off into the distance for a moment. "No, no of
course you wouldn't," Alice replied, smiling widely and focusing on Bella again.

Bella couldn't help but agree with Jacob that this woman was definitely odd. She felt strangely
drawn to her, though. Her energy and enthusiasm seemed infectious.

"I'm Bella Swan; it's really nice to meet you Alice. To be honest, I haven't had much chance to
truly explore the house;,I'm just trying to assess for repairs. I haven't even opened the attic door
yet."

Bella returned Alice's smile and pulled out the broken faucet handle. "Which is what brings me
here. You wouldn't happen to have any porcelain cross handles marked 'hot' would you?"

Taking the broken handle from Bella, Alice began making her way toward the back of the store.
"I keep fittings and fixtures back here. I know I have some, but I'm not sure if the seat of the
handle is the same."

Bella began to follow Alice when the air suddenly seemed heavy around her. She inhaled deeply,
trying to catch her breath, and put her hand out on the nearest chair for support. She sat down
and was struck by the scent of pipe tobacco and cut grass. Whoever owned this chair must've
been a freak about their lawn.

Alice bent down behind a counter and pulled out a box. She suddenly jerked upright and looked
in Bella's direction.

"Bella, what's wrong?" she asked, rushing to her side.

"Nothing, really, I'm just not used to the humidity here," Bella replied with a weak smile. "The
air was so dry in Arizona. Here it just seems heavier sometimes."

Alice quickly glanced to the right and then back at Bella. "Are you sure that's all? Was there
anything else?"

"No, no. Although whoever used to smoke in this chair must've stuffed it with extra tobacco.
Maybe I'm just allergic to the scent."

Alice helped Bella up. "Maybe."

She didn't sound convinced, but Bella chose to ignore the tone. "Anyway, let's go look at the
handles. I should get back before Jake is done so I can have him install it."

"Jake?" Alice asked, perking up.

Bella smiled at the girlish delight that lit up Alice's face. She's a little gypsy matchmaker. I bet in
another life she'd have had a crystal ball and arranged marriages.

"My friend. I think you've met him, actually. He lives on the Quileute reservation with his father,
Billy, and his fiancée, Leah."

"Oh, Jacob! Yes, he seemed nice, although he's not very open-minded." Alice pursed her lips
slightly with her assessment.

"Well, he's being incredibly helpful. Hopefully he's fixing the hot water heater as we speak. I
can't wait to take a nice long bath." Bella stretched and followed Alice to the box she'd placed on
the counter. "Which is where the fitting comes in."

"Aha!" Alice exclaimed, just as Bella finished speaking. "I found one!" She held the spotless
handle out to Bella with a satisfied smile.

"Wonderful! What do I owe you?" Bella asked, taking the handle.

"Well," Alice said thoughtfully, "how about we make a deal? You go ahead, take the handle, and
just promise me a tour of that house when you're done with your repairs. It sounds like an
antique-lovers dream."

Bella grinned. "I think I can live with that. It was very nice to meet you, Alice."

"It was very nice to meet you too, Bella. Please come back in any time, even if it's just to chat.
It's nice to find a kindred spirit in this town." Alice handed Bella an ornate-looking piece of
parchment paper with her name and number written on it in calligraphy. "Give me a call when
you're done with those repairs."

Bella took the paper and smiled. "Definitely. Thanks again, Alice."

As she walked out the door, Alice called to her. "Oh, Bella?"

"Yes?"

"Listen, if you notice anything – well, anything strange – give me a call, okay?"

Bella gave her a confused look. "What do you mean?"

Alice gave her a serious look. "There's more to this world than meets the eye. Just be careful."

Bella frowned and shrugged her shoulders. "Um, okay," she replied. Despite the friendly feeling
she had, she didn't like the sound of Alice's warning.

"Jake was right. That girl is seriously off," she muttered as she got into her car and drove away.

Or is she? Bella thought about the feeling in the clearing, and then the one in the antique store.
Am I having more than just a reaction to the climate change?

Confused, she drove back to the house as quickly as she could. Whatever was going on with her,
she knew that she'd feel better once she was home. Willow bounded down the porch steps to
greet her as she parked the car. "Hey there, girl! I was only gone for an hour. You didn't eat Jake,
did you?"

Willow barked and Jake poked his head out the door. "Nope, still here. Just working on this

porch light. The switch was loose. Did you find the handle?"

"Sure did," Bella replied, holding up the knob. "Do you have much left?"

"Actually, no. The place is in pretty good shape. Most of the stuff is simple. The pilot just wasn't
lit in the water heater."

"That's great Jake! Thank you so much!" she replied, handing him the knob.

"I'll go take care of this for you, and then I'll head home."

"Great! Don't forget to ask Leah about dinner, 'k?" she reminded him, following him as he
headed up the stairs.

Jacob took care of the knob quickly, leaving Bella and Willow alone in the house. As much as
her curiosity was piqued about the house, she felt a stronger pull toward the clearing. After a few
moments indecision, she decided to go out before it got dark. She shrugged on her jacket and
grabbed her camera. Not used to the cold, she took an extra second to enjoy the warmth of the
house before opening the door. "Is this really a good idea?" she asked herself out loud. Willow
looked expectantly toward the door and wagged her tail. "That's close enough to a 'yes' for me,
girl."

Bella pulled open the door and was surprised by the rush of warm air she felt surround her,
filling her nostrils with the warm baking scent she'd come to associate with the house. "So the
heat kicks in just as I'm leaving. It's like the house knows I don't like the cold," she said to
Willow with a groan. "Am I crazy for going out on my own?"

As if in response, Willow bounded out the door and into the woods. Swallowing her sudden
sense of foreboding, Bella followed. Looking back at the house, she couldn't help but laugh at
herself. All these haunting rumors are getting to me. She closed her eyes for a second to calm
herself and then looked at the house as a photographer instead of as a homeowner. The peeling
paint on the gingerbread trim spoke of faded glory. The long shadows of the trees speckled the
siding with intricate lacework. She let her artistic senses take over and snapped a few pictures of
the sunlight, filtering through the trees onto the porch, before stepping into the woods. She could
hear Willow up ahead but decided not to rush, taking pictures of interesting branch formations or
stands of ferns that appealed to her. Before she realized it, she had wandered back to the clearing
from earlier. Instead of feeling her earlier fear, she felt centered and peaceful. She snapped a few
pictures of the boulder, and a few more of Willow playing beside it, before continuing toward the
sound of running water.

After walking through several more feet of trees and brush, she stepped out into another, smaller
clearing. She gasped at the beauty of the tiny oasis. To her right was a small pool of water, which
fed a tiny rock-lined stream. The large trees overhead almost completely obscured the sky,
making it feel as though she were in a lush, green room created by nature. It was cooler here than
it was in the rest of the forest, and she could smell the leathery floral smell from before. It
reminded her of honeysuckle, but she thought it was too late in the year for anything to be

flowering. She followed the scent toward the pool, snapping a few pictures of the water. When
she checked the viewfinder for the focus, she realized that the pictures were all strangely blurry.
"Perfect timing for the lens to screw up," she muttered.

The pool was about ten feet across, rimmed with moss-covered rocks and spongy growth. It
looked like something straight out of a fairy tale, and Bella half expected water nymphs to rise
out of it to greet her. She could see steam rising from the water, and she carefully bent down
over it to test the temperature, assuming it was fed by a spring underneath somewhere. The water
was warm in comparison to the air temperature, and she was struck by how clean and clear it
was. She couldn't see a bottom and wondered how deep it could be. Just as she was about to
stand up, she noticed movement behind her reflection. She glanced behind her but didn't see
anything. Willow was lying happily a few feet away, and she was sure that if there were a wild
animal around, the dog would've alerted her.

She looked back down into the water and examined her reflection. Her cheeks and nose were
pink from the cold, and her deep brown eyes were bright with the excitement of her discovery.
She realized that it had been years since she'd looked this genuinely happy. Movement in the
water caught her eye again, but this time she couldn't look away. She knew she was alone in the
clearing. She hadn't heard anyone else approaching. Which was why she was certain that she
must have been imagining the man she saw reflected beside her.

He was heartbreakingly beautiful, with coppery hair and pale skin. I'm insane. I've snapped and
am imagining incredibly attractive men to compensate for my lack of one. She took in his broad
shoulders and sharp jaw line. His eyes bored into hers, and she felt a static electricity envelop her
body. The reflection-man kept her gaze as he lifted his hand and stroked reflection-Bella's cheek.
She jerked back when she felt an icy touch on her cheek. There was no one beside her. "I'm
alone. I'm alone. I'm alone," she chanted to herself, but she couldn't deny what she had felt. She
closed her eyes and took a deep breath before creeping back to the edge of the spring and looking
again. He was still there, although he looked surprised and wary.

"You and me both," she muttered. At least if I'm going to go completely insane, I get a hot guy
out of the deal.

Her thoughts were racing, but she couldn't look away. Carefully, she held out her hand in the
direction of her apparition. She waited as he held his hand out in response, quirking an eyebrow
at her as he touched her. She felt the same icy tingle that she had on her cheek. She stared at the
reflection in awe. "Wow," was all she could think of to say.

Suddenly, his face clouded and twisted into an angry grimace. Startled, she moved back, and her
feet slipped on the wet rocks. Before she could catch herself, she'd fallen feet-first into the pool,
slamming her back into a boulder and knocking the wind out of her just as her head slipped
under the surface. The warm water suddenly turned icy, and she couldn't get a grip on any of the
rocks. Her hands beat at the layer of ice that had formed on top of the water. I'm dying. I'm going
to drown. With the last of her strength, she let herself float down a bit and then kicked at the ice
with all of her might. Her foot broke through, but she still couldn't get a grasp on anything to get
herself out. Black spots began to appear before her eyes. They'll never find me here. Charlie and

Renee won't know. Oh, I'm so sorry...

Suddenly there were hands on her, pulling her up. She was too cold to move, shivering so
violently her teeth were chattering, but she was alive. She couldn't even open her eyes. She
simply whispered "Thank you," before passing out.


Chapter end notes: Ooooooh. ;) I have a thread over on Twilighted where I'll post a teaser for Ch
4 in a few days. Drop by and chat/theorize.

http://twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=7127

Let me know what you think!


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Chapter: 4


A/N First off, I'd like to thank TallulahBelle for both pre-reading and recommending Frozen
Spring to her readers. Seriously, the response has blown me away and I appreciate every single
one of you who reads and reviews. Secondly, I'd like to thank my amazing betas:
keepingupwiththekids, dolphin62598, and secondglantz. You guys are fabulous and have once
again saved me from sure comma disaster. Finally, thanks to the League for their support and to
all of you on Twitter who tweet me about the story or hang out on the Twilighted thread.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight (duh) and no copyright infringement is intended. The words
below are mine, however, and I have a very good friend who is Sicilian. Do the math.

Now, an important message: If you read fanfiction I'm sure you've heard of "The Fandom
Gives Back" campaign taking place right now to benefit Alex's Lemonade. My services are
currently up for auction, along with literally hundreds of other authors and items. Please go
check it out, bid, and help us put an end to childhood cancer. For more information copy this link
and replace "(dot)" with "."

http://www(dot)thefandomgivesback(dot)com/2009/11/official-fandom-gives-back-auction(dot)h
tml


Bella struggled to open her eyes. She didn't understand why it was so dark or where she was.
Finally giving up on her battle with her eyelids, she strained to hear the voices arguing quietly
beside her.

"I don't understand. I've never been able to come this far before," a deep male voice said.

"That's not important now. What's important is that she's okay. Somehow you managed to save
her." This voice was warm and feminine. It had a softness and a strength to it at the same time.

"But that's what I don't understand! I shouldn't have been able to!" There was anxiety apparent in
his voice, and from the changes in volume, he seemed to be pacing.

"I've heard stories... I'm not sure what it means. She may be yours," the female voice tried to
soothe him.

"Impossible. There is no point in it," his voice became rougher, almost a growl.

"Shhh.... All this negative energy can't be good for her. Look, her breathing is getting lighter."

"Are you sure she'll be okay? Did I save her?" he asked, suddenly right beside her.

Bella felt a light touch on her cheek and was aware of a smell, his smell, surrounding her. She
inhaled the leather and honeysuckle, gathering strength, and forced her eyes open. She found
herself staring into the worried eyes of her watery apparition. This time, though, he wasn't just a
reflection. She gasped, disbelieving that those jade eyes were more than a figment of her
imagination.

"You," she breathed quietly while reaching up to touch him. Her fingertips traced his jawline,
and he reached up to cup his hand over hers. They smiled at each other for a second before she
saw worry cloud his face again.

"I'm sorry. I just..." He didn't finish. His hand, so solid on hers a second before, began to fade.
The warmth of his touch cooled to an icy mist before vanishing.

"Wait! No!" She grasped at the air, trying to sit up. Lights seemed to flash before her eyes, and a
searing pain ripped through her mind at the effort. Clutching at her head, she almost didn't notice
the gentle fingers running through her hair. As the pain subsided, she attempted to open her eyes
again and was rewarded with a beaming smile from her calm nurse.

Bella looked at the woman carefully. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a graceful knot at
the base of her neck. She was dressed in a light cotton dress with a checkered apron and
matching pumps. All she needed were the pearls, and she'd be a picture out of Good
Housekeeping circa 1950. Despite the disparity in her attire and the calamity before her that was
a damp, half-drowned twenty-something, the woman looked quite at home. Probably because she
was.

"Am I dead?" Bella asked, bewildered. "I mean, it makes sense that I'm dead, but then again, I
didn't think being dead would hurt this much."

"No, dear, why on earth would you think that?" the woman responded, placing her hand

comfortingly on Bella's arm.

"Well, it's just that I'm pretty sure you are. Dead, that is. You are my Great-Aunt Esme, aren't
you?"

Esme's eyes widened in surprise before crinkling at the corners with her laughter. "Yes I am. I
assumed I'd have to break it to you gently once you'd healed. I must say you are taking meeting a
long-dead relative quite well."

"Oh, I'm sure I'm just having some sort of psychotic break. I'll wake up in a hospital bed
somewhere, and everyone will say, 'Oh, it's so sad about Bella. She shouldn't have been living all
alone in that house after that great shock of finding out her fiancé was gay.' Really, it must've
been. Although I've felt very good about everything. Maybe that's a sign. You wouldn't know if
you were insane, would you?" Bella babbled, becoming increasingly agitated as she considered
the possibility that she was really in a straightjacket somewhere.

Esme collected herself and took Bella's hands in her own, looking her intently in the eyes. "I
don't know why you can see me Bella. I am dead. I have been for longer than you've been alive.
But you are not crazy, or dead. You are very much alive, and once you've recovered from your
concussion and had a good night's sleep, we can try to figure out what all this means together."

Bella exhaled slowly. She had to admit to herself that she liked the prospect of her house being
haunted much more than the locked-in-an-asylum scenario. "Thank you," she said, squeezing
Esme's hands. "And you're sure I'm not crazy?"

"Well, I can't promise that. I wasn't a psych nurse. But when Carlisle comes back, I'm sure he'll
be able to reassure you," Esme said, gently smoothing back Bella's hair.

"Carlisle?" Bella asked. The name rang a bell with her, but she couldn't quite place it.

"Yes, dear. Carlisle is my husband."

"The doctor you married during the war?" Bella asked, remembering the stories Charlie had told
her as a child. Esme nodded as Bella continued, "He's still... around?"

Esme's expression changed slightly, sadness fleetingly touching her features. She squared her
shoulders, seemingly gathering strength. When she looked at Bella again, her smile returned but
her eyes remained far away. "Carlisle and I were in an accident in Paris. I still don't know what
happened. It was so fast. One minute we were in the cab, and then all of a sudden there was
blood and glass everywhere. I remember calling for Carlisle and hearing screams. Then there
was nothing."

Esme paused for a second, fidgeting with her thin, gold wedding band. "When I woke up several
days later in the hospital, Carlisle was sitting beside me. I was so relieved. Until the nurse
walked through him to tell me that he hadn't survived the crash."

"What did you do?" Bella asked, imagining the shock.

Esme chuckled, although it lacked the warmth from before. "Well, at first I thought I was crazy. I
assumed it was the shock. When he kept reappearing during my hospital stay, I came to welcome
his presence, even if it was a figment of my imagination."

"But he wasn't."

"No, he wasn't a figment. He was, and is still, very real. Just as I am."

"So, is that why you never remarried? Because he was with you?"

"Not entirely," Esme replied. "I'm not sure how to put into words how powerful our love for each
other was. No man could have filled his role in my life, even if we only had a brief time together
physically."

Bella began to sit up again and winced at the pain radiating down her side. Esme's gentle nurse's
hands softly pushed her back down into bed. "Sleep now. Your questions can wait. I've been
waiting here for over twenty years, and I'm not planning on going anywhere in the next few
hours."

Sighing, Bella reached her hand up and touched her Great Aunt's sleeve. "Thank you, Esme."

Esme gave her a motherly peck on the forehead and then walked across the room. "You don't
ever have to thank me, Bella. I've loved you from the moment you were born. You just didn't
know it." With that, she settled into an armchair and began to hum to herself. Bella was asleep
within minutes.

Esme pondered the situation while Bella rested. She and Carlisle had a system, and she expected
him within the next few hours. He had been navigating the spiritual realm much longer than she,
and she was sure he would have some answers. Staring at the sleeping woman in her bed, she
couldn't help but think of the children she never had. She lived, so to speak, for Carlisle's visits,
but she had always loved children. Her only regret in never remarrying was that she had never
raised a child of her own, but her heart belonged to Carlisle fully; she couldn't bring herself to do
that, even after he'd begged her to find another. She settled, instead, for being a surrogate mother
and doting aunt to her nephew Charlie.

She had hoped, once, to watch Bella grow in this house. She still wasn't sure why Renee had
been so insistent on leaving, but her departure had taken away the brightest part of Esme's
afterlife. Renee was sensitive to the supernatural, of that much Esme was sure. She wasn't open
to it, however. No matter how warm and welcoming Esme tried to be, Renee became more and
more frantic. Esme knew that Bella was sensitive as well, for the infant would smile and coo at
her. Esme would hum to her, the same song she was humming now. She assumed that Renee's
fear was real, but it was a fear of the unknown and of failure instead of one based on the feelings
in the house itself.

Over the years, Esme had enjoyed watching Bella during her visits, but time had dulled some of
her receptivity. She had seemed to sense something but not Esme herself. Until now. Whatever
had happened had reopened Bella's mind. Now Esme had another chance to connect with that
child, but at what cost? Her intuition told her there was something larger at work. She hoped her
intuition was wrong.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting in the same position, running the events of the past
few days over and over in her mind, when she felt a familiar stirring in the air around her.
Holding back a girlish squeal, she launched herself toward Carlisle as he appeared in the
doorway. "I'm happy to see you too, dear," he said with a smile. Sighing happily, Esme kissed
him. It was a gentle kiss, but it was still filled with longing and passion. He brushed her hair off
her neck and bent down to kiss her behind her ear.

"Carlisle," she breathed quietly, stopping his movements. "I know you don't have much time. We
need to go downstairs. Something has happened." She gestured at Bella's sleeping form.

Carlisle nodded his assent, placed his hand on the small of Esme's back, and led her from the
room. She smiled, appreciating the small gestures like that. They could have simply thought
about the living room and appeared there, but they tried to interact with each other the way a
living couple would. It was a habit they had started while Esme was still alive. Even now, after
all her years as a spirit, she still cherished the fantasy.

Once they'd descended the staircase, Carlisle wrapped his arms tightly around Esme. "What is it,
my love?"

"It's Bella. She nearly drowned," Esme replied, her forehead crinkling into worried lines.

"Esme, I'm so sorry. You've just gotten her back, too. What happened?" Carlisle began rubbing
circles on her back in an attempt to soothe her.

"I'm not entirely sure. I think she was exploring the property. She apparently found a pool of
water of some sort and fell in."

The air around them shivered and contracted as a voice interrupted her explanation.

"It was my fault."

As the words faded, Bella's savior appeared before them.

Carlisle turned and tilted his head toward the tall intruder. "Edward," he greeted him coolly.

"Carlisle," Edward inclined his head in response, appraising the man standing before him. When
he'd interacted with Carlisle in the past, it has always been pleasant but distant. "I don't know
how, but she saw me. I was so surprised that I lost control of myself." Edward dragged his hand
through his unruly hair. "That girl... she almost died because of me."

Carlisle examined the lost-looking man in front of him. He was unsure how long Edward had
been in the area. There were many things he didn't understand about his life as a spirit, but he
knew that spirits usually had a purpose or connection to their environment. There was a reason
Edward haunted the forest outside Esme's house, but regardless of that connection, he was
obviously adrift emotionally.

"I think it's time you finally explained your presence here," Carlisle commanded.

Esme sighed and placed her hand on Carlisle's shoulder in warning. "She is alive because of you,
Edward."

Carlisle looked between the two of them, startled. "You were able to rescue her? A human?"

"Yes, he did. And he carried her here," Esme explained.

"How far away is this spring?" Carlisle asked, incredulous.

"It's... well, it's a half-mile away until you get to the clearing."

Carlisle gaped at him. He knew of spirits who could interact with the human world in various
ways, but to carry an unconscious woman a half mile would have required quite a bit of power.

Edward scrubbed his face with his hands and exhaled loudly. "I just don't understand how she
could..." His voice drifted off, and he stared at the ceiling. "I need to see her," he stated firmly.
His face was unsure, however. Esme understood that he was asking permission.

"She's sleeping now, but I'm sure she'll have questions for you when she wakes. Go ahead."

He sighed in relief and disappeared. Carlisle raised an eyebrow and looked at Esme.

"I was hoping you'd be able to explain it to me," she told him, shaking her head in disbelief.

Upstairs, Bella shifted in her sleep as the air moved around her, marking Edward's entrance. He
knelt beside her bed and examined her face, searching for injuries or signs of discomfort. I'm just
making sure she's okay, he told himself as he reached out and brushed back some of her hair. He
traced the freckles dusted across the bridge of her nose with his fingertip, marveling at the
electricity he felt in her presence. Even in life, he never felt such an instant attraction to
someone. How do I deal with this? Why am I so drawn to her?

Bella sighed and turned restlessly. The covers fell away slightly, revealing a sliver of her back
where her shirt had ridden up. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the strip of creamy skin. He
groaned, long-ignored feelings bubbling back to the surface. What the hell is wrong with me? For
the first time in over one hundred years, he remembered what it felt like to be alive. He
remembered the price of that feeling, too. Already he had felt empty and disconnected while
away from her. He hadn't been able to resist returning. He felt the same surge of anger that he'd
felt when she first approached the spring. The only benefit he'd received from this afterlife was

blissful numbness and solitude that eventually settled over him. Just as quickly as the anger
flared, it calmed. It wasn't her fault, after all. It was his. He had been unable to love while he was
alive, so fate was taunting him now.

"I'm so sorry, Bella," he whispered, vocalizing the mantra of his thoughts ever since he'd carried
her dripping form into the house. Esme had gasped her name and flew to his side. He'd been
thankful for Esme's ability to interact with the physical world as she dried Bella and changed her
clothes. He'd also been insanely jealous of Esme's hands touching Bella's bare skin. He had stood
off to the side warring with himself, knowing he had no right to be the one to bestow gentle
touches to the shivering woman. Yet here he was, staring at the way her hair shone upon her
pillow, and wishing that he had been the one to dry it.

Ignorant of the emotional battle taking place beside her, Bella awoke to the morning sun
streaming in her window. Her head was still pounding, but she didn't feel like she'd been run
over by a truck, so she assumed she was improving. Groaning, she opened her eyes and gasped.
Sitting beside her was her savior from the previous day. His eyes were closed, and his lips were
moving slightly, as if he was talking softly to himself. She reached out and gripped his arm
fiercely. His eyes flew open, startled, and he began to rise from the edge of her bed.

"Wait! Don't leave again!"

"Shh.... Calm down; don't worry. I'm not leaving," he reassured her, sitting back down. "I was
just afraid you'd be uncomfortable with me being so close to you."

Bella shook her head no and loosened her grip slightly.

"Who are you? What are you?" she breathed.

He smiled wryly at her. "I was going to ask you the same thing. I've never met anyone quite like
you before, Bella."

"That's not answering my question," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "Savior or not, if you
know my name, I should know yours."

"My name is Edward, and seeing as how you found my spring, I assume you know what I am."

Bella squeezed his arm, as if to confirm that he was really present. "So you're dead, then? You're
a ghost?"

He nodded, a lock of bronze hair falling onto his forehead. She reached up and brushed it back
without thinking. She was unable to read the emotions behind his eyes, but she sensed that he
was troubled. She wanted to erase the pain she saw there. She also wanted to jump him. She was
at a loss for how to act. Oh, hi there. I get tingly in all my special places when I look at you. You
are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on. You saved me, and I don't care that
you're a ghost. Please take me in every way possible right now and remind me what passion feels
like. Somehow she doubted that he'd appreciate her thoughts.

Sighing, she sat up fully and arranged the covers around her lap. "So, um, what happened?" Oh,
prove to him how incredibly articulate you are.

He looked at her apologetically. "Somehow I have an effect on the temperature surrounding me.
Your presence, well, it startled me. I lost control of myself for a moment. I am so incredibly
sorry."

She waved a hand at him dismissively. "Don't apologize. I can see how it would be disorienting.
I know I was disoriented. It's not every day you look into a pool of water and see a man staring
back at you."

"How did you do that?" he asked.

"Do what?" she scrunched her face in confusion.

"See me. Come to the spring. Any of it."

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I assumed that was part of your, you know,
ghost-ness."

He shook his head slowly. "No. You are the first living person to find my spring. I've never
known how, exactly, but it's protected. It's not visible to those in the physical world."

Bella's eyebrows shot up at this news, unsure of how to take it. A gentle knock on her door
interrupted her thoughts. "Come in," she called.

Esme slowly opened the door and came in, Carlisle trailing behind her. "I heard voices," she
explained. "Carlisle has to return to the hospital soon, but he wanted to speak with you before he
left."

Bella grinned widely and rose to meet her Great-Aunt's long-dead husband. Carlisle gasped in
surprise as she hugged him tightly. "Esme has told me wonderful things about you, Carlisle."

"It's nice to meet you too, Bella," he replied. "I can see that you are moving around okay. Are
you dizzy?"

"Well, I'm sore in plenty of places from hitting the rocks, but I seem to be fine otherwise," she
answered, rubbing her back where the greatest impact had occurred. "Well, as fine as you can be
when you're suddenly having conversations with ghosts, that is."

Chuckling, Carlisle patted her shoulder gently. "Bella, accident or no, I think you would
probably still be having conversations with ghosts. You are special." Seeing her puzzled look,
Carlisle continued: "Bella, I haven't experienced the touch of a human since I died. Interacting
with the physical world is not one of my talents. I can be heard but not felt. The fact that you
could hug me speaks volumes."

Bella glanced from Carlisle to Esme and back again. "You mean, all those years that you lived
here, you could never touch your husband?"

Esme smiled sadly. "No, dear. I was just glad that we could talk. I was thankful to live in a world
where he continued to exist. It wasn't ideal, but it was enough."

Carlisle pulled Esme to him and kissed her head gently. "The day Esme died was the most
frightening and happiest of my existence. I was so afraid she'd pass on from this plane to some
other place, and I'd remain here without her. When her spirit rose from her body and I could
finally touch her again, I could barely control myself."

Bella heard a sharp intake of breath from behind her and was shocked when she turned to look at
Edward. The naked grief she glimpsed on his face was painful. She reached out and took his
hand in hers, smiling softly at him. He looked as if he was going to bolt from the room, but
instead he squeezed her fingers and attempted a smile.

Esme shot a pointed look at Carlisle before interrupting Bella and Edward's silent exchange.
"Carlisle has to leave now, but he's going to make some inquiries of the spirits around him to see
if they've ever heard of something like this happening. There are humans who can interact with
our world but they are rare, and I can't help but feel like there is something else happening."

"Thank you, Carlisle," Bella said. "I have a few ideas of where we might be able to do some
research on our end, as well. Esme, where did my jeans go?"

Esme disappeared and reappeared a moment later holding Bella's clothes. "Here you go,
Sweetheart." Bella grimaced at the rips in the legs and then dug into the front pocket. She
triumphantly held up a piece of embossed vellum paper. "I think this qualifies as strange," she
muttered, recalling the tiny woman's words.

As Carlisle whispered his goodbyes to Esme and faded from view, Bella walked over to the
phone and dialed the number. "Hello, Alice? Could you stop by the house today? I think you'd be
very interested with the tour."


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Chapter: 5


A/N: First things first, The Fandom Gives Back campaign to raise money for Alex's Lemonade
Stand was a huge success, raising over $83,000 at last count. You, Twilight fandom, are
amazing. Congrats and thanks to Silvertwi, who won my services at the auction and is holding
on to her winning bid for a Frozen Spring outtake. It's up to her what I write and whether or not I

post it publicly. Y'all might want to start sucking up to her now. *winks*

I'd like to thank my betas keepingupwiththekids, dolphin62598, and secondglantz; and my
pre-reader TallulahBelle. They keep me from looking like an idiot and make sure that this is the
best story it can be. Everyone who's been reading and reviewing, I can't tell you how much it
means to me that you take the time to tell me what you think. Honestly, y'all make my day, and
I'm trying to do my best to reply. If I haven't yet it's because I've been writing instead but I'll
make it back to you, don't worry.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, but I do own a crazy little idea about a spring and some
ghosts. Don't copy or take this without my permission. Karma's a bitch.


Edward looked around the room, trying to figure out how his existence was turned upside down
within twenty-four hours. He was only half-listening to Bella's phone conversation. Instead, all
he could focus on was the fear that gripped him. He wanted to run from his feelings. He wanted
to lie down and finally rest. He wanted to be absolved of this half-life he'd been living and be
free to feel nothing. Strangely, though, his strongest desire was to wrap his usually insubstantial
arms around the woman in front of him and never let go - which circled his thoughts right back
around to running away. Without realizing it, he'd moved closer to Bella and was brushing his
fingers through strands of her hair.

Sighing, he let his hand rest on her shoulder and turned his attention to Esme. Preferring his
solitary existence, he had never interacted with her other than a glance from the distance. Seeing
her soft smile, he felt a pang of regret that he'd never welcomed her before now. He'd feared
interaction for so long. Can I handle it now? he wondered.

Esme shot him a knowing glance and began to speak just as Bella set down her phone. Seeming
to think better of it, Esme simply reached over and patted the hand Edward was resting on Bella's
shoulder. "I know you both probably still have more to discuss, so I'll go let Willow out for you
and give her breakfast," she announced.

"You can do that?" Bella inquired, surprised, before remembering that Esme had easily brought
her jeans up to her. In fact, she'd disappeared and then reappeared with them in her hands.

"For whatever reason, as long as I'm in the house I can interact with physical objects. It was
completely unexpected. Carlisle was my only experience with a spirit, and he still can't touch
anything physically," Esme explained. "In a way it's nice. It's easy to forget that I'm dead. In fact,
it was very difficult to remember to stop once you arrived, Bella. I was afraid that a picture frame
straightening itself would scare you."

Bella laughed. "I'm sure it would have. Now if I saw a vase float across the room, I probably
wouldn't blink."

"What a difference a day makes," Esme said with a wink.

Esme's eyes lingered on Edward for a second before she walked out the door, closing it behind
her. Edward began absentmindedly massaging Bella's shoulder. He was trying not to focus on
the fact that he was alone with her.

Bella turned around to face Edward, smiling. She couldn't explain why something as simple as
his gentle touch moved her in ways Mike never could. She tried to reason that it was some
ghostly power of his, or that she was drawn to him because he had rescued her. Deep down,
some part of her knew that what she was feeling wasn't supernatural or due to shock. It was
something deeper, and in some ways maybe even more mysterious.

Her smile faded as she looked into Edward's intense green eyes. It was as if he was trying to see
through her and right into her soul. She shivered at the force of it, but didn't look away. Instead
she searched his eyes in return. Somewhere under the surface he held the answer to a call she
didn't realize she'd sent.

She suddenly felt that the space between them was too great. She needed to be closer, to feel
more of him, to know that he was real. "You feel it too, don't you?" she whispered.

"Yes," he breathed, stepping forward and again running his hand through her hair. She lost
herself in his touch, closing her eyes and just feeling. He leaned forward and brushed his lips into
the top of her hair, murmuring something. He tensed, then, and the air around them cooled
slightly. His posture became rigid and she could see a battle being waged behind his eyes.

Bella grasped his hands tightly, willing him to meet her gaze. "Edward," she started, carefully
weighing her words. "I don't know what this is. I don't even know anything about you other than
your name." She paused, trying to find a way to say what needed to be said. "Those are just
details, though. I'm not old, but I've lived enough to know when something is special. You and I
- this is special. Don't run from it."

She held her breath, waiting for him to respond. His eyes burned, and his hands gripped hers
almost painfully as he searched for some way to answer her. "I'm trying, Bella. Believe me."

She clasped her hands behind her, bringing his with them, and leaned forward, resting her head
against his chest. "That's enough. For now. You'll tell me when you're ready." It was a statement,
but her voice held a hint of questioning.

"I promise."

Inhaling deeply, Bella rubbed his jacket. "You know, this is how I first sensed you. Even before I
saw you, I was surrounded by your smell. It's an earthy smell, full of leather and honeysuckle."

She could feel him smile into her hair, where his head was resting. "I guess that makes sense. I
worked with leather and in fields until the day I died." She pulled back slightly to look at him,
quirking an eyebrow in question.

"I was a horse trainer," he explained. "I have to say, I'm glad that the smell I carried into the

afterlife was that of a saddle and not any of the other associated smells."

"Well, here's hoping those sorts of metaphysical decisions aren't solely based on profession. I'd
hate to run into the spirit of a pig farmer if that's the case," Bella replied, laughing.

Edward chuckled, running his hands down her sides and coming to rest on her waist. "Bella," he
began, squeezing her gently before stepping back. "Being with you feels so normal; it's almost
like I'm alive again."

Bella tried to smile reassuringly, sensing that this was difficult for him.

"I don't know how to act. I haven't been outside of the spring for years. When I first appeared
there I tried to leave. The farther I'd get the weaker I'd become. Eventually I'd collapse and find
myself lying on the ground beside the water. As time went on I was able to expand my reach, but
I've never come this far."

"What changed?" she asked.

"The only thing that's different is you. The day you moved in, I felt a pull to you. I didn't know
what it was at first. I've encountered other spirits occasionally. I thought maybe I was sensing an
entity passing near the spring. Then I watched you pull up to the house, and I couldn't look away.
Something about you pulled me out of my slumber, so to speak." His brow furrowed slightly as
his conflicting emotions struggled for dominance.

Unable to resist touching him, Bella rubbed her palms across his chest before letting them rest on
his broad shoulders. "You sound like you didn't want to be woken up."

"I didn't," he replied honestly, studying the way her lips turned down slightly into a frown. He
brought one of his hands up to her face and cupped her chin, tracing her lips with his thumb.
"But I think I needed you to do it." Unable to deny himself any longer, he pulled her back to him
and leaned down, touching his lips to hers.

Bella melted into him, reveling in the sensation of his soft lips brushing against her own. The
kiss began gentle and shy, but there was an electricity buzzing underneath it. As she moved her
hands up into his hair, he deepened the kiss, sucking on her bottom lip before running his tongue
across it. With that, the kiss became a live wire, buzzing and snapping as it jumped around her.
Bella felt herself letting go, despite the feeling that if they lost control it would spark and
consume them. It'd be worth it, she thought. The sparks suddenly became numbing tingles, and
her stomach knotted in fear. Lightheaded, she broke away gasping for air and almost collapsed.

Edward guided her to the bed, his expression a mixture of guilt and horror. "Oh my God, I'm so
sorry..." he began.

"It's fine, I think I just forgot to breathe," she tried to reassure him. She noticed that his hands
were shaking as he raked them through his hair.

"No, it's not fine. I began to feel weak. I've been away from the spring too long..." he trailed off,
his eyes traveling over her. She became very aware of her chest heaving from her gasping
breaths. She wanted to reach out to him and reassure him that she was truly okay, but he had
begun pacing the room and she didn't trust her legs to go to him. Passing out is not going to
convince him I'm fine, she thought. Frustrated, she fell back onto the pillows.

"Bella, I need to go. Will you be okay?" he asked, stopping near her.

She noticed that he'd begun to look slightly out of focus. Already beginning to feel steadier, she
rose from the bed and walked toward him. "I'm fine, really," she said, illustrating her standing
position with a broad sweeping gesture.

"I'll return as soon as I can," he said, reaching out to her. His fingertips brushed hers briefly
before he dissolved into a mist and disappeared. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself.
"I'm not sure I'll get used to that," she muttered, reaching for a sweater that was draped across a
nearby chair and setting off in search of Esme.

Padding softly into the kitchen, Bella found her on her tiptoes organizing the remainder of
Bella's dry goods into their respective cabinets. She turned as Bella entered and held up a can of
vegetable soup. "Dear, please tell me you're planning on going grocery shopping soon. I don't
see how you can survive on coffee and soup alone."

The rest of her motherly lecture faded from her lips once she took in Bella's shaken appearance.
"Bella, what happened?" she asked, dropping the soup on the counter and rushing to Bella's side.

Bella shakily sat down in a kitchen chair and laid her head on the table, completely exhausted. "I
don't know, Aunt Esme. One minute he was kissing me and then the next I was weak and about
to pass out."

"He kissed you? And then left you in this state?" Esme's face shone with righteous indignation.
She brushed Bella's hair off her forehead and examined her closely, fuming.

Bella lifted her head from the table and brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms
around them protectively and leaning against her aunt. "To be fair, he was starting to look fuzzy.
I think he was getting weak too."

"Oh, honey," Esme soothed, "How awful. That would happen with Carlisle. Whenever he's been
away from the hospital for too long, he begins to fade. It certainly frightened me the first few
times. As a ghost, I've never been able to make it past the front porch." Esme looked at Bella
thoughtfully.

"Wait, you keep mentioning Carlisle's hospital. Which hospital? The hospital here in Forks?"
Bella asked, realizing how little she knew about the world into which she'd stumbled.

"No, no. Carlisle is a permanent resident of Pitié-Salpêtrière Hospital in Paris, where he died."

"And he has been traveling here to see you, but you can't go to him?" she asked, astounded.

Esme nodded. "I don't know how it works. It's almost like we're locked into certain places. I've
always assumed there was a reason behind it. Carlisle is able to help others, for example. He
can't touch the physical world, but he can speak to it. He is able to assist within the hospital.
Most people just chalk it up to intuition when he tells them to redraw labs or check the vent,"
Esme paused, smiling with pride, before continuing. "He's saved countless lives. He truly is
thankful. He calls his afterlife his 'gift.' It makes him feel whole."

Bella sat silently, wondering how many people Carlisle had helped. What am I dealing with
here? she thought to herself. Is it God? Fate? Chance? Couldn't he have saved lives, other lives,
without dying? What about Esme? What about the lives they might have touched together?
Frustrated by her current train of thought, Bella decided to focus on her current situation. If the
fates are deciding things for me, fine. But they better make sure I have an amazing camera to
document the ride.

"So," she began, sitting up straight and looking at Esme, "what is this? Some sort of cosmic test
of Edward's range?"

"That's just the thing," Esme replied, frowning. "When I was alive, Carlisle's weakness never had
any sort of effect on me. He'd just dissapear, and eventually he'd reappear here to see me,
recharged." She shook her head. "There is so much I don't understand. I'm sorry I'm not more
help."

"Well, at least I'm not trying to figure all this out by myself," Bella reassured her, standing up
and walking to the coffee pot. "There is no way I'm going to make sense of anything without
caffeine, though."

As she poured her first cup, inhaling the sharp scent and willing it to give her clarity, Willow
began to bark. "Ah, the cavalry," she said, walking into the hallway and opening the front door.

"I meant it as a metaphor," she muttered, taking in the scene on her porch. Alice was bouncing
on the balls of her adorable ballet-flat-clad feet. Beside her was a stoic, wavy-haired man,
dressed in what appeared to be a Civil War military uniform. They have civil war reenactments
in Forks? Did the South ever even make it this far? she thought, eyeing the tall blonde man.

Alice followed Bella's gaze and smiled almost smugly. "Thought so," she said to herself quietly,
before addressing Bella.

"Bella, I'd like you to meet Jasper, my soul-mate," Alice motioned to the faux soldier.

"Nice to meet you, Jasper," Bella replied, wondering at the odd choice of words. What about my
life right now isn't odd? she thought to herself, extending her hand.

He looked slightly wary as he grasped her hand and shook it firmly. Bella gasped at the touch
and jerked back her hand. The moment their fingers met, she was surrounded for the second time

by the scent of grass and tobacco. Exhaling slowly, Bella met his eyes. "You aren't a re-enactor,
are you?"

His lip quirked up slightly into a half grin, and he bowed his head. "No ma'am, I'm not."

Bella forced a smile in return and stepped aside, ushering them off the porch and into the house.

"Bella, I can't tell you how excited I am that you called me!" Alice exclaimed, sweeping her into
a one-armed hug, her other arm holding a bakery box. "I brought muffins!"

She breezed into the kitchen, Jasper trailing behind her. Bella patted Willow on the head before
following them in. "For a protective dog, you are way too calm around the paranormal," Bella
mockingly chastised her. Willow licked her hand in return and padded over to lie on the floor at
Esme's feet.

"Alice, Jasper, this is my Aunt Esme," Bella introduced, gesturing toward her aunt. "And that's
my dog, Willow," she added. Great. I'm introducing ghosts to my dog. Am I absolutely sure I'm
not insane?

As Alice and Esme chatted, Bella set out some plates and opened the bakery box. Smiling, she
pulled out a cranberry-orange muffin. "These are my favorite. Thank you, Alice."

"Oh, I know," Alice said with a grin, tapping the side of her head.

"You're psychic?" Bella asked, realizing she shouldn't be surprised.

"Yup. It's not infallible, of course. Sometimes my visions are vague, but the moment I picked up
the muffin I could see your reaction and knew it was the right choice."

"That was really considerate of you, Alice," Bella said, picking at the top of her muffin. "I don't
want to seem weird or ungrateful or anything, but is there anything else I need to know? I mean,
is someone going to show up who can shoot laser beams out of their eyes or start fires by
thinking of them?"

Alice laughed and sat down beside Bella, grabbing one of the muffins. "No, not as far as I know.
Although I wouldn't be entirely surprised to meet someone with pyrokinetic abilities."

"Oh, well, that's good then." Bella glanced toward Jasper and then back at Alice. "So, I'm not
really sure where to start."

Accepting the cup of coffee that Esme brought her, Alice pulled a large notebook out of her bag
along with a pen. "Why don't you start at the beginning?"

Bella began to explain her attraction to the spring and the events that had occurred. Alice was
completely focused on Bella, occasionally taking notes but otherwise simply listening. "Well,"
Alice said matter-of-factly when Bella had finished, "Frst things first. Let's go see this spring."

Bella poured some more coffee into a thermos and pulled on her jacket. Alice was waiting on the
porch with Jasper when Bella had a thought.

"Alice, why is Jasper with you? I thought that spirits were tied to certain places. Aunt Esme can't
leave the house."

"That's a bit of a story," Alice began, looking at the sky. "It looks like it might rain, so why don't
we set out. I'll tell you on the way." She glanced back at Jasper. "Why don't you stay here and
chat with Esme? She might have some information that would help us understand what Bella is
experiencing."

He nodded and mouthed an 'I love you' before disappearing through the closed door.

Alice proved surprisingly agile, despite the fact that she wasn't dressed for a hike. She and Bella
carefully picked their way through the underbrush and headed into the forest.

"I've always known I was different. Ever since I was little, I've seen things. I used to call them
daydreams, until I began noticing that they came true." She paused, collecting her thoughts.

"Around the same time, I also began to realize that not everyone could see all the people I did.
When I was ten, my mother stormed into my room, sobbing, to demandaed that I stop talking to
myself. I told her I was talking to Gramma Nelle. She slapped me and told me to stop lying.
Gramma Nelle was dead."

Bella stopped walking and turned to Alice, placing a comforting hand on her arm. "I'm so sorry."

Alice smiled at her before continuing. "It's really okay. I mean, how many people get a chance to
say goodbye once they know someone is gone? I have some very special memories of my
Gramma Nelle that were made after she took her last breath."

"Anyway, as I grew, I discovered a few other people like me, who could see and hear those in
the spiritual world. None of them could do what I could, though. I could carry spirits with me."

"How?" Bella asked.

"I don't know why. I guess the afterlife and this life are bound, and different people have
differing degrees of abilities. Just like singing or art. I'm a collector. I can free a spirit from its
ties to a physical location. It realigns itself with me, instead."

"Do you think that's what I am?" Bella asked, intrigued.

Alice looked thoughtful. "Well, it's puzzling. I don't get that feeling from you. Jasper even said
that there's not a pull there, but there's an awareness. I can't explain it. That's why I was hoping to
see the spring for myself."

Bella continued walking, noting that they were nearing the clearing. "So... Jasper? What's his
story? He's aligned himself to you, I guess?"

Alice grinned broadly, her face lighting up at the mention of the ghost. "Oh, yes. I met Jasper
traveling through Texas. I had stopped in a little greasy spoon for lunch and saw him standing in
the corner. I mean, how can you miss him, right?" Her grin widened and she winked at Bella.
"As soon as our eyes met, I saw it. I knew that we were meant to be together. So I marched up to
him and introduced myself. He and I have been together ever since."

"So, how does that work? You know, being in a relationship with a ghost?"

"Well, since he's bonded to me, we're usually together, which is nice because he doesn't fade
away like Esme's Carlisle or your Edward. We can't have the 'normal' married life: no kids or
photo album of our wedding. None of that seems important if you're with the person your heart
calls to, though. Is there anything specific you have questions about?"

Alice grinned mischievously, knowing what was coming next. Blushing, Bella examined the
ground at her feet, building up her courage. "Well, can you and Jasper... you know... be
intimate?"

"I have many gifts, Bella, and so does Jasper. Sadly neither of us has the gift of touching the
other's plane of existence. So, no."

"Oh, how awful!" Bella exclaimed without thinking. She slapped her hand over her mouth the
moment the words were out and blushed even deeper.

Alice giggled. "Yes, it is awful, I agree! But just because we can't touch each other doesn't mean
we don't enjoy each other. There are other ways of being intimate."

Willing herself to look Alice in the eyes, Bella grinned in return. "I have been in several
relationships, but none of them were very... satisfying. Anyway, I didn't mean to pry."

Alice waved a dismissive hand in the air. "Don't worry about it. It's not like there are relationship
advice books for ghostly dating, after all. I'll admit, I'm jealous that you can interact like that.
Jasper hasn't touched a human hand in quite a while. But I'm also worried about the feelings of
faintness you experienced with Edward."

Bella nodded. "Me too, which is why I'm glad we're almost there," she said as they emerged into
the small clearing. Bella pointed to the boulder across from them. "It's just past that rock."

"What rock?" Alice asked, peering into the space before them.

"Right here," Bella replied, walking over to it.

"Bella? BELLA!!" Alice yelled frantically. As Bella crossed the clearing, she vanished into thin
air.

I have been told that I'm kinda evil for leaving you hanging like this. I'm not really arguing.
**evil grin**


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Chapter: 6


A/N I don't think I can say enough about how much I love my amazing beta secondglantz.
Seriously, I want to bind a copy of this fic someday with her notes in the margins. I'd also like to
thank TallulahBelle for prereading and making suggestions. Of course, my primary betas
keepingupwiththekids and dolphin62598for teaching me the ways of the elusive comma. And,
finally, all of you readers who floor me with your fab reviews. Thanks for reading, I hope you
continue to enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or these characters. I do own my idea about a spring and some
ghosts, so please don't steal it. It makes Ghostward angry.


Alice rushed over to the spot where Bella had disappeared.

Stay calm, Alice. You've dealt with the supernatural all your life.

She crossed the small clearing and pushed her way into the continuation of the woods. There was
no spring. There was no second clearing. Thoroughly confused, Alice realized that she was alone
in the forest and hadn't paid attention. She had no idea how to get back to the house.

Okay. Freaking out a little bit.

After several moments of panic, she closed her eyes and envisioned Bella. Her inner vision
clouded and then slowly began to clear. The vibrant greens of the forest swirled up into view
first, followed by the backdrop of rich brown tree trunks. The remaining mist gathered and
solidified into Bella's form. The haze covering the scene cleared, as if the sun was burning fog
off a field, and Bella stood in the center of the clearing. One hand was held out to vision-Alice,
the other gesturing toward the empty space behind her. The sun was slightly lower in the sky, but
it hadn't truly begun its descent for the night. Relieved, Alice opened her eyes, and the vision
dissipated back into mist. She's fine, Alice thought as she walked back into the middle of the
clearing and sat down to wait.

Meanwhile, Bella had stopped and patted the boulder, motioning to Alice to keep following.
"See Alice? It's right here!" she hollered, passing the boulder. "I don't understand why you can't

see this. I mean, it's huge." She continued forward, motioning around her as she spoke. "C'mon,
this is the second clearing. We're almost..."

The words stalled in her throat as she took in the scene before her. It was freezing, her footsteps
crunching the icy grass and her breath coming out in silvery puffs. Frost covered every surface.
The silence was profound; the sound of flowing water was painfully absent as sheets of ice had
replaced the trickling creek that ran from the spring. There was a figure face-down in the center
of the pool, a crust of ice encasing him. She could see jagged rips in his pants and shirt. The skin
showing through was darkly bruised and covered with gashes. She shuddered at the raised, angry
wounds. The man's skin was blue, frost tinting his dark hair white. She stood, frozen in shock for
a moment, before rushing forward to try to help. Kneeling at the edge, the body was just out of
her reach. Even if he was dead, she couldn't just leave him there. Frustrated, she ran a shaking
hand through her hair. Suddenly, her mind caught up with her gut as she observed the figure.

"Edward?" she asked tentatively, her voice cracking as she spoke. She swallowed thickly and
tried speaking again. "Edward? It's Bella."

She noticed the temperature begin to rise as the figure started to move. The crust of ice cracked,
the water beneath it resuming its flow. Bella sucked in her breath as the frozen face finally turned
toward her. The crackling and dripping continued around her; the clearing filled with the sounds
of the unnatural winter receding. She willed herself to be strong. She refused to scream.

"Bella?" Edward's voice rasped. It wasn't the full, strong voice she knew. It was a voice of pain,
dulled from disuse and decay. Jumping as a chunk of ice fell from a tree to her right, Bella
realized she wasn't as strong as she'd hoped. She knew that she couldn't see that. She couldn't see
Edward's face destroyed in death, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

She sat there, motionless, listening to the rustling around her. She yelped as she felt a cold hand
touch her face.

"Bella? Oh, Bella, I'm so sorry..." the voice was the Edward she knew.

She slowly opened her eyes, willing the scene to be gone. The green eyes staring intently into her
own were the same green as before, not lifeless and clouded over as she had feared. Breathing a
sigh of relief, Bella flung her arms around him instinctively. "Oh, Edward! Don't do that to me!
Why? I just... I can't..." She choked back a sob, clinging to him tightly, willing his cold body to
rise in temperature in response to hers.

"Shh..." Edward soothed her, rubbing her back and rocking softly. "I'm so sorry, Bella. I'm just
not used to anyone being here. I didn't expect..." He stopped himself from speaking, instead
focusing on the feeling of Bella in his arms. "I don't know how to be happy, Bella. When I hurt
you earlier, I just didn't know what to do."

Bella, growing calmer as the shock wore off, looked up at him. "You didn't hurt me, Edward. I
was weak, but not harmed. We just need to figure this out together."

She caressed his cheek, relieved that his skin felt warm and alive, even if it wasn't real. She
couldn't stop herself from checking him over to make sure he was truly restored. She rubbed her
hands down his arms, noting how strong they seemed through his spun cotton shirt, as opposed
to the leather jacked he'd worn earlier. She ran her palms along his broad back, feeling to make
sure the jagged rips and cuts had disappeared. The wan sunlight that filtered through the trees
glinted off his hair, red and copper strands sticking out at odd angles. Such a beautiful illusion,
she thought to herself. There wasn't a thing about him to imply that moments before he'd been
lying bruised and broken, face-down in a frozen pool of water. He was perfect. Too perfect.
Where does the illusion end?

When she raised her eyes to his again, he gasped. She could feel herself telegraphing raw need
through her gaze, and she saw it reflected in his. His chest expanded with his intake of breath,
pushing against hers, and she felt smothered in her sweater and coat. She couldn't breathe under
all the layers. The air around them was humid with the melting ice and heavy with his familiar
scent. She fumbled with the buttons on her jacket. His eyes followed her hands, lingering over
the places where her sweater stretched and hugged her curves. He began to lean down, his hands
gripping her waist, and she closed her eyes. Illusion or not, I can't fight this, she thought. His lips
never made it to hers. Instead he groaned and released her, pushing her softly away.

Slightly hurt and confused, she opened her eyes again. He was in the same position, but his face
was a mask of pain. "What is it? What do you need?" she murmured, reaching her hand up and
resting it over his heart. She wanted to help him move past whatever pain he was holding back.
He sat in front of her, unmoving, and as she stared at him, she felt the same fear for him that she
had when she first entered the clearing. His body may not have appeared frozen, but his soul
seemed trapped somehow. She couldn't free him without answers, and she desperately needed to
free him. Can a soul decay like flesh? If I could see his heart, would I be strong enough to keep
my eyes open? she wondered.

"Edward, what did I see... before?" she asked quietly, her tone softly demanding.

Edward shook his head slightly, examining her for harm, just as she had done to him a moment
ago. His hands found their usual spot in her hair, twisting slightly and pulling her head onto his
chest. "Bella, just let me hold you for a moment." It may be the last time, he added silently.

She closed her eyes as she acquiesced, enjoying the warm tingles that seemed to be her response
to Edward's touch. He was murmuring softly to himself, whispering into her hair what he wasn't
yet strong enough to tell her. Needing a way to give him strength, Bella looked up at Edward,
and made her decision.

Softly tracing the line of his lips with her fingers, she tilted her head up and touched his lips with
hers. Keeping her eyes open, she could see the uncertainty in Edward's. She kissed him softly but
with confidence, attempting to erase his doubt by sheer force of will. As Edward kissed her back,
the electricity that had surrounded them before returned. Bella realized that she could easily get
lost in the feeling. Her hands roamed down his back and pulled at his shirt, needing to feel his
skin. As she slid her palms up his back, he shuddered into her mouth. Groaning, Bella pushed
back, glad she was already sitting. "My God," she gasped between breaths.

"Did I hurt you?" Edward asked, desire quickly replaced with concern.

"No, no. I'm fine. I've just never felt anything like that before," Bella quickly reassured him.

She frowned when she noticed that the concern still hadn't left his face. I need more than this.

"Edward, I need some answers. What is this? What did I walk into?"

Edward rocked back off his knees and stood up, turning his back to her. "Bella…" he began. She
could hear the refusal in his voice and was not going to accept it this time.

"Edward, I'm not slow. I know you are dead. I get it. But to see you dead? Like that? Are you
going to tell me what happened?" She stood and stepped forward, placing her hand on his
shoulder. He sighed and dropped his head in defeat, running his hands through his hair in
despair.

"Fine, I'll tell you." His voice was flat, emotionless. Fear began to form an icy knot in Bella's
stomach, and the temperature around them dropped slightly with his frustration. "Once I do, I
think you'll agree that it's best that you leave."

Bella shook her head vehemently. "Edward, you know I wouldn't do that."

When he turned to look at her again, she was shocked by the cold rage that burned behind his
eyes. His lips turned up into a sardonic grin as he responded. "You haven't heard my story yet."

Bella leveled her gaze at him, willing her fear to stay hidden. She set her jaw and crossed her
arms, fighting his anger with a stubborn glare. "Try me."

He began to pace around the clearing, seeming to be searching for words. Bella just stood there,
shivering slightly, afraid to speak until he was ready. Finally his voice broke the silence.

"I told you that I worked with horses. They were my life. Well, half of my life. The other half of
my life was my Jane. We were to be married..." He paused, seeming to steel himself against
some coming storm. "When I was twenty, she was seventeen. We were too young to wed. I was
still establishing myself as a trainer, apprenticing with my father. She was the youngest of four
daughters and was wild and willful. Her parents didn't wholly approve of me, but she usually got
her way in most things, and I was no exception." His face had softened with his recollection,
smiling slightly as he remembered her.

"One day she convinced me to 'borrow' a horse so we could go for a ride. She loved the feeling
of freedom she got while riding bareback, not proper and ladylike as her family insisted when
they rode together. I still remember how she looked that day. Blonde hair whipping around her
face as she laughed in the sunlight, skirts flying behind her, the wind pushing her back into me as
we road, full force, away from town. We had a spot we would ride to so we could be alone. We'd
lie on the grass and talk for hours. She'd tell me all her crazy ideas about moving south,

somewhere warmer. About how many kids we'd have and what we'd name them. I'd tell her
about my dreams of breeding champion horses and the large house I'd build her. One minute we
were lying there, talking and kissing, and the next minute she was gone. Everything after that
was a blur. There were men in the woods - hunters or bandits - I don't know. They saw the horse,
took her for the thoroughbred she was, and assumed we had money. When they realized we
didn't, they decided to take their 'payment' in other ways. I tried to fight them off, but there were
three of them." His voice faded as he stared off into the distance, seeing images from long ago.

He took a long, shuddering breath, and continued. "They beat me until they thought I was dead. I
passed out, and when I woke up, I was alone. I could barely move, but somehow I thought I
could find her. It didn't take long. They'd thrown her down, half dressed, less than a mile away.
Her neck was broken. I prayed that perhaps that'd happened before the rest of the damage I saw
had been done. I tried to pick her up, but I was too weak, so instead I lay down beside her. That's
how the search party found us. We'd been missing for two days."

Bella wrapped her arms around herself involuntarily, shuddering. The temperature had continued
to drop as he spoke. The chill she felt wasn't entirely from the temperature, however. She was
afraid to speak, feeling that her voice would be trespassing. This memory of Edward's life was
not a place she belonged. She felt a need to help ease some of his pain, and as she stepped closer
to him, she spoke. "Edward, I'm so sorry."

His returning stare held no warmth or relief, however. "I am too, Bella. Jane died because of me.
I was too weak to help her."

"Edward, you can't say that. You have to know that sometimes things just happen..." Bella
began, but Edward cut her off.

"There was no reason for me to have brought her out there, unprotected and alone. It was selfish
of me to want to have her to myself like that. I blamed myself. The town blamed me. Jane's
family blamed me." As they should have. As I deserved, Edward added silently. He scrubbed his
face with his hands, willing himself to stay calm. "But worst of all, Jane blamed me."

"What do you mean?"

"I kept seeing her for the first few days. She would appear in my room, or in the street, and reach
out to me. Even in death, after what I'd done to her, she wanted me. But then she stopped
coming. I had to accept that I'd truly lost her. I couldn't take it anymore."

"Edward, what did you do?" Bella asked, her voice barely above a whisper, although she knew
the answer.

"I came to our meadow and wandered until I found this small spring that fed a tiny creek. I swam
down as far as I could. Each time I'd kick, pain would shoot up my leg from where it was
fractured. My arms were weak from the beating, and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to get down
low enough. The pain was so intense I hoped I'd pass out, but I knew that I deserved to feel the
pain. Once my arms gave out, I just let it happen. I made it far enough down." His eyes traveled

to the spring, placid despite what Bella now knew it held.

"I drowned myself, Bella, thinking that Jane would be waiting for me. Or at least, if she wasn't, I
had hoped that there would be nothing, and I'd be free of my pain. Instead, I woke up here, alone.
My punishment is that I have to know what I've done and remember what I've lost, forever."

"Edward, you can't believe that," Bella said, reaching out to him. "What you've described is
tragic, but that doesn't make it your fault."

"But, that's just it Bella, I loved Jane. I know I did. I've never stopped loving her." Edward's
pacing stopped. He looked down at Bella and felt an invisible knife twisting in his chest.
Somehow I never loved her as I know I'll love you, though, he thought. Is this a form of
punishment, too?

"I'd accepted that this was my fate, until I saw you. Bella, I don't deserve to love you, too. I had
my chance." And I squandered it. Edward struggled with his desires, staring down at Bella. God,
Jane. Am I abandoning you all over again by wanting her so?

"Oh, Edward," Bella sighed, reaching up and wiping away the silent tears that had begun to fall.
"What about me? What about my chance? Don't I deserve the chance to love you?"

No! his mind screamed at her. Don't love me. Please. I'm not worth it.

As if reading his thoughts, Bella wrapped her arms around him tightly and murmured, "You
deserve the chance to be happy, Edward. You deserve this love as much as I do. Let me love
you."

Edward leaned down and brushed his lips against her forehead tenderly, tears slowly rolling
down his face. Forgive me, Jane. He knew he was powerless to fight. He lost this battle the
moment Bella pulled him from his spring. He allowed himself a small smile, relieved that she
hadn't pushed him away. If he allowed himself to love Bella, however, it would be unselfishly. I
can give her what I couldn't give Jane. I can give her a life by setting her free before this truly
begins. The hope that had begun to spread like wildfire in his heart abruptly cooled. I need to tell
her this. He closed his eyes and spoke into her hair, not wanting to let her go just yet.

"Bella, you deserve love. Real love. You deserve to have your dreams." Before the words were
fully out of his mouth, Bella was already shaking her head violently. Examining the stubborn set
of her jaw, he exhaled in exasperation. "Did you miss the part of my story where I explained that
I'm dead?"

Bella smirked, thankful for the willful and mule-headed genetics she'd inherited. She would just
have to convince him that she knew her own mind. "Yes, Edward. Fortunately for you, I can see
and touch dead people. Problem solved." She could feel him smiling against her forehead.
Nothing like a little ghost humor to diffuse a situation.

"Are you really as persistent as you seem?" Edward asked, pulling back to look at her.

"Even more so," Bella replied. "You can't hide from me, either. I'm not going to let you run away
from me." She pursed her lips and arched an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to respond.

He laughed and disappeared into mist before her eyes. "Edward!" she exclaimed, grasping at the
empty air before her. She felt the air move behind her and whirled around to find him standing
on the other side of the clearing, laughing. She put her hands on her hips and scowled. "That is
not fair."

"I just wanted you to know what you were dealing with, Bella. Being dead has a few perks. The
ability to manipulate appearance is just one of them."

She smirked at him. "I can see that. And I don't know what I'm dealing with. I admit it. Which is
why I brought... Oh, crap! Alice!"

Bella whirled around and peered at the edges of the clearing, looking for the larger clearing that
lead into it. "I was bringing Alice to see you! Where is she?!"

"Alice is... ?"

"She's the girl I told you about. She's psychic. She also has a ghost boyfriend," Bella told him
pointedly.

"I'm guessing she can't come here," Edward said. "There has to be some reason why no one has
ever been here before."

"So, this spring is somewhere other? I came in, but she didn't?" Crap crap crap... She has got to
be worried sick, Bella thought, rushing to the spot where she'd dropped her jacket.

Edward approached Bella and took her hand. His eyes still held pain, but he seemed cautiously
optimistic. "Lets go find her. Together."

Smiling, Bella took a calming breath and walked to the edge of the clearing. Pushing past the
brush, she passed the boulder and felt as though a film was being lifted. The misty and dim light
was replaced with a clear autumn afternoon. Alice was sitting in the middle of a patch of brown
grass, face turned up to the sky, soaking up the waning sunlight.

"Alice?" Bella asked softly, not wanting to frighten her.

Alice's eyes snapped open, and she jumped up from her spot on the ground. "Bella!" she
squealed, running forward and throwing her arms around her. "I was so worried about you!"

Bella grinned and hugged Alice back with her one free arm, her other hand firmly gripping
Edward's. "I'm so sorry, Alice. I didn't realize you couldn't see the spring. I thought you were
with me, and then..." Bella trailed off as she glanced behind her. That wasn't her story to tell.
"Then I saw Edward and we got caught up in talking."

Alice grinned knowingly, taking in Bella's tousled appearance. "Uh-huh. You definitely end up
looking like this after you've had a good 'chat'," she quipped, picking a leaf out of Bella's hair.

Bella flushed and began wiping at her clothes, brushing leaves and dirt off of her pants. "Well,
talking was involved, anyway," she muttered sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it. I wouldn't have to be psychic to see the pull you feel. Your aura is
practically fused with his." Alice's eyes flicked up to Edward's, and her smile slipped. She
quickly recovered and introduced herself, holding out her hand. "Hello, I'm Alice. You must be
Edward."

Nodding, Edward made an attempt to shake her hand, but his hand moved through hers.

"It was worth a try," she sighed. "Anyway, I guess at least one of my questions has been
answered."

"What's that?" Bella asked.

"You are definitely more than just a medium. You can not only interact with the spiritual world,
but also cross over into pockets of it. I've never met anyone like you."

Bella's forehead crinkled in thought. "What does that mean?"

Alice shrugged. "I have no idea. Sometimes things just are, you know? You are special. Maybe
there's a cosmic reason why. Maybe it's just so that you could meet Edward here. It's obvious
you are soul mates." She gestured toward Bella and Edward, the energy radiating off them
visible to her sensitive inner eye. "We don't always know why things happen. I know that I took
that wrong turn in Lubbock specifically so I could meet my Jasper, even if I wasn't sure of it at
the time." She turned and gestured in the direction of the house.

"Now if you don't mind, Bella, can you take me back to your place? I'm getting cold,"

"Of course! Edward, do you feel like you can come?" Bella asked, remembering his weakness
earlier.

He smiled down at her. "I think I'll be fine as long as I don't expend too much energy. Which, I
admit, I'm finding difficult to do."

Blushing again, Bella pulled him along behind her and set out toward the house. The walk was
uneventful, with Alice explaining to Bella the different types of spirits she'd encountered.
"There's a pretty broad spectrum. At the top end are spirits who are grounded to some place
'other' in nature, such as Edward and his spring. I'm not entirely sure how that happens, but I
suspect that these spirits had some gift or skill before they died that imbues the place with their
power." She was examining him intently as she spoke.

"There are those who are grounded to a physical location, such as Esme and Carlisle, and those
who are grounded to a person or Collector, the way Jasper is grounded to me," she continued.
"Most spirits are Wanderers. They float through without any base for a short period of time
before they pass on to their next stage."

"What about people? Like you and me?" Bella asked.

Alice grinned. "Believe it or not, it's much more difficult to figure out what range of interaction
people have with spirits than it is the other way around. Most people who are gifted like us tend
to keep it to themselves. After all, talking to invisible people is often considered a sign of mental
illness."

Bella sighed, remembering her father's tale about her mother's 'sensitivity,' and nodded.

"Not all spirits are as benign as Esme and Jasper, however," Alice warned, her tone turning
serious. "Jasper has been trying to expand his range from me for the past few weeks because he's
been sensing an unknown hostility. There's been an increase in violent deaths and wandering
spirits. He doesn't think it's quite as random as the papers have been making it seem."

"Deaths?" Bella asked, incredulous.

Alice nodded solemnly as Edward placed a protective arm around Bella's shoulders. "Yes,
deaths. There's a reason why ghost stories aren't usually nice, Bella. People who encounter spirits
and never have a problem aren't going to mention it. Those who are chased out of a house
because a Leech or Vengeful Spirit tried to strangle them in their sleep tend to talk."

Bella stopped walking, holding up her hands. "Whoa, wait... Why would a ghost strangle
someone?"

"Why would a human strangle someone?" Edward asked softly. Bella looked up at him and
squeezed his hand comfortingly.

Alice opened her mouth, as if to say something, before stopping herself. She fidgeted with one of
her bracelets absently before gesturing toward the house, which had finally come into view.
"Let's get inside, and we can talk to Jasper and Esme about your gift, Bella."

As they walked up the steps, the air shifted and swirled in front of them. Bella almost tripped
over the form that materialized. Shocked, she fell backward into Edward, who caught her before
she could tumble down the steps.

Esme and Jasper rushed out of the house in time to hear the newcomer's tirade begin.

"You have got to be kidding me! This is it?! I am Rosalie mother-fucking Hale! I cannot be
dead! I am supposed to start filming next week! That fucking bitch!" she screeched, manicured
hands clenched at her sides.

The blonde woman stomped her stiletto-clad foot for emphasis. Her designer jeans were ripped
and muddy, and the pale halo of her hair was matted with blood. Whatever blow she had
sustained to her head was mild compared to the gaping holes in her sweater, the red cashmere
stained dark from the effects of multiple stab wounds. She practically vibrated with righteous
rage.

Bella cringed away from her anger. She suddenly understood why some ghosts might, indeed,
strangle someone. Rosalie Hale, Oscar-winning actress, looked as though she could skin
someone alive, even though she obviously no longer counted as one of the living.


**bouncing on my non-stiletto-clad-feet** Hold on readers, this is gonna be fun... **grinning**


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Chapter: 7


A/N Sorry for the delay in posting you guys! Between Christmas and various other issues it just
took longer to get this part of the story out. I hope you're still enjoying, and I've included the last
two paragraphs from the last chapter to help you get back into it.

BIG thank yous go out to my amazing beta, SecondGlantz, and my fabulous prereader
TallulahBelle. They both turned this sucker around in under 24 hours. They're amazing,
supportive, hilarious, and good resources when I've run out of ways for Rosalie to use the word
"fuck." Also, I'd like thank the girls in The League. Even though our blog time is over, I love
them and know they continue to support me.


The blonde woman stomped her stiletto-clad foot for emphasis. Her designer jeans were ripped
and muddy, and the pale halo of her hair was matted with blood. Whatever blow she had
sustained to her head was mild compared to the gaping holes in her sweater, the red cashmere
stained dark from the effects of multiple stab wounds. She practically vibrated with righteous
rage.

Bella cringed away from her anger. She suddenly understood why some ghosts might, indeed,
strangle someone. Rosalie Hale, Oscar-winning actress, looked as though she could skin
someone alive, even though she obviously no longer counted as one of the living.

Bella stared ahead of her, stunned.

What do I say? Hello, I'm a big fan of your movies! Seriously, that one that you did with Tom
Hanks about the couple that goes to court over a puppy? Hysterical. By the way, you're a ghost.

A really angry, bloody one. So, um, why are you on my porch?

She opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to collect her thoughts, before clearing her
throat in an attempt to interrupt the spirit's tirade.

"...Go camping… it'll be great for your complexion… there's this little spot up here... privacy,
away from the photographers... yeah, well now I know why privacy was so important, huh? You
slimy son of a... great for my complexion my ass!" Rosalie ranted, gesturing more and more
wildly.

"Um, Rosalie?" Bella interjected.

The blonde ghost focused on Bella, seeming to notice that she was surrounded for the first time.
Bella swallowed nervously as Edward moved in front of her, shielding her from Rosalie's angry
glare.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

"Can I help you with something? Maybe you'd like to come inside?" Bella offered.

Rosalie looked around at all of them, narrowing her eyes at Bella.

"Fine. I have no idea who you are or why I'm here, but - so help me God - I'm going to find that
fucker, tear him to pieces, and then send his little bitch back to hell."

Bella glanced around her. Esme's eyes were wide as saucers, her hand covering her mouth in
horror. Bella wasn't sure if she was horrified at the situation, the language, or both. Alice was
examining Rosalie carefully, a neutral expression on her face, as Jasper hovered behind her, his
face a look of intense concentration. Bella expected Jasper to have taken some sort of fighting
stance or to have pulled out a ghostly musket or something.

Would ghost weapons work on other ghosts? How would that work? Oh, shit. Would a ghost
weapon work on me? Crap crap crap...

Before Bella could continue her inner ramblings, Rosalie seemed to collect herself. She squared
her shoulders, pulling herself up to her full stature. She looked like some sort of Amazon
Princess, regal and awe-inspiring.

I think she may have played a warrior princess in that one movie...

"You!" she commanded, pointing at Jasper. "I'm assuming you didn't die peacefully in your sleep
in that get-up, did you?"

"No ma'am, I didn't," Jasper replied cautiously.

"Good!" Rosalie exclaimed with a grim smile. "Then you should be able to help me. How the

fuck do I get this blood off my favorite cashmere sweater?"

Bella stifled a giggle at the ridiculousness of her life and made a move for the door. Edward held
her back and looked down into her eyes.

"We don't know anything about Rosalie other than the hostility that is rolling off her in waves.
Please - don't leave my side, okay?"

Bella bit the inside of her cheek in an attempt to hold her tongue. Her instinct was to push off his
concern. It wasn't that she objected to the strong, protective man stereotype. She was the
daughter of a Chief of Police, after all. Charlie had been not only protective, but also proactive,
and he had taught her to take care of herself. It was against her nature to play the demure damsel
in distress. Despite her pride, she had to admit that this particular situation was different. She
couldn't call the police or put her karate to use against ghosts. So instead of replying with a sharp
retort, she simply nodded her assent. Sighing to herself, she allowed Edward to lead her into the
house.

She entered to hear Rosalie already quizzing Jasper about the ins and outs of ghostly dressing.

"So, what you're saying is that if I think about wearing something, I'll suddenly be wearing it?"
Rosalie was standing in the living room, hands on her hips.

Jasper nodded. "See, I'm going to imagine myself in jeans and a t-shirt now." The air fluctuated
around him in waves, as if he were a mirage on a hot day. Then he seemed to solidify again, and
he was standing before them, clad in slightly baggy jeans and a t-shirt with "The Rolling Stones"
written across the front. Alice let out a little snort beside him.

"You've been living with me for five years, and that is the best you can do for an illustration?"

"Someone walked past the shop today wearing this. It was the first thing that came to mind," he
replied, grinning.

Alice crossed her arms and huffed in exasperation before turning to Rosalie. "Please God tell me
you have a better sense of style than him," she implored.

Rosalie closed her eyes in concentration as the air buckled and whirled around her. After a few
moments, she opened her eyes again, her expression pained and her outfit unchanged.

"What's wrong?" Bella asked.

"I couldn't decide!" Rosalie exclaimed.

Jasper began to laugh before catching the glare Alice threw his way.

"You know, I remember seeing a picture of you in this adorable, fitted, long tee and some
awesome boots. I think you were out shopping last week? Why don't you try that?" Alice

suggested.

"Oh, I love those boots! They were amazing, weren't they?" Rose replied, turning to face Alice.

Bella could see her back from this position and gasped. She could feel Edward's hand tightening
around hers as he took in the site before him.

Rosalie's back had been carved into an elaborate design, bones peeking out through the horrific
gashes. Bella didn't want to look but couldn't look away. Rose turned at the noise and took in the
looks on their faces.

"Oh, Christ, I forgot about my back. Son-of-a-fucking-bitch, this is how I'm going to be
remembered, isn't it?"

Bella moved toward her cautiously. "Rosalie, what happened to you?"

Sadness flickered over Rosalie's face before it hardened back into a fiery scowl. "That bastard
told me we were going to a special little lookout he'd found. He said he'd set it all up for us: a
cabin, champagne, a private chef and masseuse, the works. It was an apology for treating me so
coldly once he'd found out about..." She trailed off, her scowl turning to horror.

"Oh, God, Emmett!" she screamed.

*****

Emmett McCarty, you are a fighter. You have to do better than this. No matter what they say,
there's still a chance. There's always still a chance that she's okay...

Emmett's hulking form was crumpled in the corner of the cabin. He had no idea how long he'd
been in that position. The last thing he remembered was drinking some beer with Rose. They'd
been cuddled on the couch when he started to feel groggy. Before he could process what was
happening, Rose fell limply onto the floor, her bottle shattering beside her. Within seconds, he
lost the fight to keep his eyes open and fell beside her.

When he came to, he was tied up in a corner. Rose was nowhere to be found. He tried to struggle
out of his bindings, but he was still drugged and didn't have his full strength. Every so often, he
could hear that bastard publicist of Rosalie's talking to himself, the crazed ramblings floating in
through an open window to Emmett's right.

So help me God, if he's touched one hair on her head, I'm going to snap his neck. I can't believe I
let my guard down. What type of bodyguard am I? How could I have missed that he was a
threat?

Rose had come to him in a huff a month ago over this jerk. James Laurent was well-known as a
ruthless image manager in Hollywood. He had a few of the paparazzi in his back pocket and had
confronted Rosalie about some pictures they'd taken while she was vacationing in Miami last

month. Pictures of Rosalie and her bodyguard, Emmett, engaging in some "clothing optional"
activities. James had been furious. He'd ranted about how this made her look and that the Family
Company would pull back their offer for a very lucrative fairy-tale remake she was supposed to
start filming soon. She had replied that he could go fuck himself, along with the Family
Company. She told him that she'd be with whomever she wanted. If he didn't like that, he could
consider himself fired.

Emmett knew that getting involved with Rosalie crossed several, very well-defined lines. He'd
loved her from afar from the moment he'd taken on her detail. He reasoned with himself that his
feelings for her made him a better bodyguard, made him more careful because he was invested in
his client. It took him by surprise the day she revealed she was invested in him, as well.

She'd been at loose ends after breaking it off with her most recent co-star. Royce King was nice
enough on the surface, but his baby face, the one that had soccer moms around the country
swooning, hid a violent temper. The first few screaming matches between the two of them had
been enough for Rose to call it quits, but James had insisted that she at least keep up pretenses of
being attached to this King kid. He'd said it would be bad press right before their movie opened,
but after a few weeks they could issue a joint statement explaining they'd had an amicable split.
Unfortunately, Royce didn't agree with this plan, and they'd stepped up security because of it. All
of the extra one-on-one time with Rosalie was simply an added bonus.

"I can't believe I have to change my fucking phone number again. Royce is absolutely
psychotic!" Rose had huffed, hitting the "ignore" button on her phone yet again.

"Ms. Hale, I really suggest you file a report. His behavior is escalating," Emmett had said,
concerned.

"Emmett, please, call me Rose," she had said with a smile. "Did you know Royce tried to have
you let go? He demanded that I take on members of his security detail." She gave him a quizzical
look, one of her delicate eyebrows arching in question.

Emmett had stared at her, stunned. He couldn't believe that whiny pretty boy had stepped over
that line. Especially since he and Rosalie were barely an item. "No, ma'am. I mean, Rose. I had
no idea," he replied with a smirk. The thought of anyone telling Rosalie Hale what to do was
amusing.

"He didn't like the way you look at me." She had fixed her sparkling blue eyes on his darker
ones, her ruby lips forming into a predatory smile. "I, however, do like it. Very much."

With that, she'd stood up from her position on the couch, striding toward him purposefully. His
eyes followed her movement. Her blonde hair was piled casually on top of her head, the recessed
lighting in the room making it look like spun gold. He was unable to ignore the way her silk
nightgown clung to her curves, her open robe swaying behind her, or how her long, powerful
legs flexed as she walked. She came to a stop before him, inches from his body, her minty breath
fanning over his face as she exhaled.

"Emmett, I'm going to make something very clear right now. Your employment with me has
nothing to do with this exchange. You are more than welcome to turn me down, tell me to go to
bed, excuse yourself from the room, or whatever. I will not hold it against you. Tell me to stop,
and I will."

Emmett opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to think of how to respond. He'd
fantasized about this moment for months. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his
strong arms and crush his lips to hers. Could he still watch over her after she was done with
him? Yes. He would be whatever she needed.

"Oh, hell yes," he'd murmured, closing the distance between them and kissing her, hard. She had
run her hand up his neck and taken a fistful of his brown curls, tugging and making him groan.
When they had broken apart she'd looked at him with an uncharacteristic softness. "I was afraid
you were going to say no," she'd said, lightly touching his cheek.

"Babe, who in his right mind would say no to Rosalie Hale?" he'd replied, chuckling, before
looking at her seriously. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

She had taken his hand and pulled him back toward the couch. "This is more than what I want.
This is what I need." Sensing his hesitance, despite his obvious desire, she'd continued. "I need
strength and humor. I need crass jokes - yes, I've see you with the other guys. I need tender
glances - yes, I've seen those too. I need you."

Before he could say anything else, she dropped his hand and let her robe and gown fall to the
floor, forming a pool of shimmering red at her feet. "Now, come over here and fuck me
senseless," she said, a seductive smirk on her face.

"Yes ma'am."

Emmett was snapped out of his reverie by the sound of Rosalie's voice. He tried to move around
to see where she was, but he was tied securely. At first he thought her voice was coming from
behind him, but then he realized it was outside. With James.

"You sick fuck! You let me go right this instant, or I'll find a way to carve out your balls and
feed them to you," he heard Rosalie scream at James, taking the words out of Emmett's mouth.

That's my firecracker.

His pride was short-lived, however, as he heard a thud and Rose's cry of pain.

"You can't know how often I've wanted to slap that smirk off of your face. Go ahead; give me
another reason to hit you. It's about time someone taught you how to behave," James sneered at
her.

Rose was on her knees, positioned between two trees. Her hands were loosely bound behind her
back, and her hair was matted with blood and dirt, fresh red streaks cutting through the dirt and

down her face. She shook her hair out of her face and channeled every ounce of her hatred into
her glare. "Fuck. Off."

James hurled his fist at her head, connecting with her temple and knocking her to the ground.
Rose saw lights flashing before her eyes as she struggled to remain conscious.

"I know you like it rough," his voice floated to her from afar. She could barely make it out
between his grunts as he kicked her in the chest. She tried to curl up to protect herself from his
repeated blows. "You think I don't know about your secret room?" he continued. "I used to think
you were going to invite me to play with you up there."

Rose spat a mouthful of blood at him, splattering his shoes. "You disgust me. As if I'd ever let
you get close enough to touch me," she gasped at him, trying to pick herself up off of the ground.
"You don't know a thing about me." She winced in pain and fell back to the ground, her face
landing in the dirt.

James laughed maniacally, the insane braying bouncing off the cedars that surrounded them..
"Don't I?" he asked, circling her like a vulture. He picked up a length of rope and advanced on
her. "I know your other secret, too. Why do you think we're here?"

Rose was now seeing two of him, and she was having trouble breathing. Her shallow gasping cut
through the sudden quiet as James stood over her, looping the rope between his hands. His anger
had changed to an icy calm as he mechanically began tying the rope to one of her hands and then
knotting it around the closest tree.

"I had such high hopes when we found you, you know. We'd been without a vessel for so long.
But you were so stubborn," he explained as he worked, taking a new piece of rope and repeating
the procedure with her other hand. "You couldn't accept anyone else. You had to be in control.
See what happens when you deny us?"

He cut the original cords around her hands and pulled his new ropes tight, lifting her off of the
ground, arms spread between the two trees. Rose screamed out, the new position pulling on her
battered and broken body. She steeled herself as best she could and looked around, hoping for a
weakness in the rope or a hiker to happen upon them. Looking down, she noticed the circle that
had been drawn around the trees and the runes marking the borders. She finally understood what
was happening.

I'm going to die.

Her eyes filled with tears as the reality hit her. Emmett. Was he dead already?

Do not give him that satisfaction. Do not let him see you break.

She blinked furiously, trying to clear her vision, and searched the trees again. James seemed to
be talking to himself a few feet away. Rose couldn't detect anything near him. She felt a slight
stirring of her senses, but it wasn't anything definite.

Who - or what - is he working with?

He didn't seem to truly understand the ritual he was intent on performing. She recognized a few
symbols that were improperly drawn. She kicked at the ground furiously, trying to disturb the
circle. She needed to buy some time. She had to know about Emmett and maybe draw out
James's accomplice. He looked at her suddenly, and she sensed a slight disturbance over his
shoulder. She'd felt that energy before, not too long ago. Those eyes had been dark, angry, and
hungry. The memory made her shudder.

"You know why I never invited you up to my room?" she began, hoping to distract James so that
he wouldn't notice the runes had been disturbed. "Because she told me what a tiny dick you have.
I knew you wouldn't satisfy me."

The energy beside James shifted slightly, and an image appeared fleetingly. Rose had guessed
right.

"And you!" she shouted at the spot where the image had been. "You will never, ever control me."

She felt a force hit her from behind, just as James rushed forward and punched her in the
stomach.

"You shut your whore-mouth, or I'll start breaking your fingers, you -" James ranted and then
stopped suddenly. "What do you mean, internal bleeding?" he asked the air behind her. "Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck. If she goes too fast..." He left his sentence unfinished as he reached into his back
pocket and pulled out a knife. "I'm so sorry to cut this short," he said to her as he plunged the
knife into her torso several times. "But it seems like our timeline needs to be moved along. As
I'm sure you recognize, your blood is important to that process."

Rose bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming aloud. She willed herself to be strong.
James moved behind her, and she felt the knife on her back, losing all thoughts of strength or
survival. She just wanted the pain to stop. James had begun to hum as he worked, her screams
echoing around them.

******

Rosalie looked around frantically, clutching at Bella's offered hand. "I have to go back. I have to
save Emmett. He's still alive. I can feel it," she explained.

"Some of you can do things, right?" Rose continued. "You can travel and touch things and stuff?
There must be something I can do to save him!"

Bella glanced at Edward, hoping someone had an idea. "I'm not really sure. Everyone seems to
be different. I have no idea what you can do or if you can go back. How do you travel?" she
asked, looking toward Jasper.

"Well, it depends. If I've been somewhere before and it's within my general traveling distance,
then it's just like the clothing. I think about it, and then I'm there. It does take a certain amount of
energy, though, the farther away from your base you get."

Esme tapped her foot on the floor, pondering his description. "That's the way it works for me,
too. Although I can't leave the premises, anywhere inside of the house is fair game. For Carlisle
it took quite a bit of effort to make it to me. From what I understand now, his ability to travel so
far is quite exceptional. I assume it has something to do with his draw to me. He's never been
able to appear anywhere outside of the hospital except for this house."

As if on cue, Carlisle appeared at her side, his daily visit interrupting their explanations. Carlisle
moved closer to Esme, assessing the situation. Rosalie held up her hand to stop him before he
could settle into his role as a physician.

"Doctor Carlisle, right? We don't have time for introductions. I'm Rosalie, and I'm beyond your
help now, anyway. But Emmett..." her voice broke slightly on his name. She took a deep breath
and continued. "He probably needs one badly. Would you be willing to attempt a trip?"

Not missing a beat, Carlisle nodded his assent. Rose thought for a second before extending her
hand.

"When I was alive, I was a medium. Spirits could travel within me if I chose. Let's see if it holds
true now that I'm one of you."

With that, Carlisle reached out and touched her hand. Rose closed her eyes, and they both
disappeared.

******

Emmett groaned and began pulling on the chain that he was tied with again. He'd been passing in
and out of consciousness for what seemed like an eternity. His mind would cloud over, waves of
pain dulling into whispers as he remembered Rosalie's lips or the freckles that peppered the
bridge of her nose. He'd concentrate on the fiery sparkle in her eyes until the pain would
crescendo again, pulling him back to the present. His extremities had been alternating between
severe burning pain and total numbness, but that was nothing compared to the pain in his chest as
he listened to Rosalie's cries. She'd long ago drowned out any of James's ramblings.

Finally her screaming stopped. He hadn't thought any sound could be worse than her pained
cries. He was wrong; the silence was much more frightening. Despite his best efforts to struggle
free, whatever poison he'd received had done its work well. He could no longer feel his legs at
all, and he was too weak to move his arms. "I'm so sorry, Babe," he whispered hoarsely,
surprised he could force the air out of his lungs. He closed his eyes and focused on his favorite
memory of her.

They were on a boat, speeding along the Caribbean water with abandon. Rose loved the speed
and was urging him to go faster. Her face was lit up with her excitement, laughing as the wind

whipped her hair around. She was so at ease, not acting or pretending to be anything she wasn't.
He stopped the boat then, unable to contain his need for her any longer. She'd turned away from
the railing and removed her sunglasses, arching a perfect brow at him in questioning, a playful
smirk in place. She was the water, blue eyes matching the sea. She was the sun, golden hair
framing her delicate face. She was, simply, everything he ever wanted or needed.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't feel anything anymore. He opened his eyes, praying that it was
over, only to hear James approaching in the distance. As James came into view, he realized his
perspective was off.

"I don't know what happened! Maybe she just wasn't as strong as we thought," James raged.

Emmett looked down and realized he was standing above his own body.

Huh, so Rose was right.

He could make out the faint outline of a woman beside James. He momentarily thought it was
Rose before realizing that he just knew it wasn't her. Suddenly the reality of the situation hit him,
rage crashing down over him like a tidal wave.

Without thinking, he lunged forward and punched James with everything he had. James flew
across the room and collapsed into a pile on the floor.

Well, I guess I can touch things.

The outline beside him solidified into a waif-like woman with masses of bright red hair. If asked
to describe her later, he was sure all he would remember were her eyes, though. They were a
deep reddish brown, like garnets, and were filled with so much hate that he recoiled from her
proximity. "You!" she hissed, advancing on him.

The air swirled beside him, and suddenly he was face-to-face with Rosalie. She cupped his face
in her hands, murmuring apologies. "I thought we might make it in time," she cried.

"Babe, do you think I'd want to be anywhere you aren't?" he replied, wrapping her in a tight
embrace and pulling her into a kiss. His joy at their reunion was interrupted by a sharp pain in his
arm. He jerked backward, bringing Rose with him, as he saw a smoking handprint from where
James's ghostly counterpart had touched him. She lunged for Rose, but Emmett caught her with a
solid kick in the gut, sending her flying backward toward James. Emmett turned to see if Rose
was okay and noticed for the first time that she had a companion.

"We need to leave. Now." Carlisle commanded from beside Rosalie. She nodded.

"Emmett, take my hand," Rose directed, one of her hands already clutching Carlisle's.

Emmett reached over and held her hand tightly behind his back, using his body to shield her
from the already-advancing enemy.

"Victoria!" Rose called out, as the air began to move around them again. The redheaded woman
glared at her. "You should've taught that worthless fuck of a servant, James, the correct runes for
binding."

With that, the three of them disappeared, Victoria's piercing shriek of anger reverberating
through the cabin.


So, yeah. Victoria's a little pissed.

I know this chapter was light on the Bella/Edward interactions but I hope you liked Rose/Emmett
as much I do. Don't worry, all the pieces are coming together and we have our band of heroes (so
to speak) all in one place now. There'll be more BxE next chapter. ;)

P.S. Read Elemental by TallulahBelle and Living Backwards by CiaoBella27. You'll thank me.
Honest.


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Chapter: 8


A/N: Thanks for waiting so patiently everyone! I contributed an o/s to the TwiFans for Haiti
compilation and had a very hard time switching gears and coming back to the spring. I'm here,
however, and solemly swear to never attempt to multi-task my writing again. Forgive me?
*grin*

Special thanks, as usual, to my betas SecondGlantz and TallulahBelle. They rock my world (and
remind me when I forget that a character is in the room.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. I do own this story
about a haunted house and it's inhabitants, which I think is more fun anyway. They don't sparkle.


"Emmett, take my hand," Rose directed, one of her hands already clutching Carlisle's.

Emmett reached over and held her hand tightly behind his back, using his body to shield her
from the already-advancing enemy.

"Victoria!" Rose called out, as the air began to move around them again. The redheaded woman
glared at her. "You should've taught that worthless fuck of a servant, James, the correct runes
for binding."

With that, the three of them disappeared, Victoria's piercing shriek of anger reverberating
through the cabin.

***


The snarling ghost began to fade from Emmett's view. The walls of the cabin lost their color and
substance, melting away to be replaced with a warm, wallpapered room filled with antiques. As
the air stilled around him, six sets of eyes focused in his direction.

"That. Was. Awesome!" Emmett exclaimed, grinning widely at his audience.

Rosalie snorted beside him. "Yes, our double murder and painful transition to the afterlife was
totally awesome, Em," she remarked dryly. "Let's not forget the psychotic murderer and his
insane she-demon consort." She couldn't keep the smirk off her face, however, and she squeezed
his hand lovingly before letting it drop.

Emmett grinned playfully. "You know what I mean. Popping from one place to another like that?
Totally cool. Not to mention that I apparently get to spend eternity with your fine ass," he said,
winking at Rose.

Carlisle cleared his throat beside him, fighting to keep a smile from forming on his lips. Emmett
looked up and addressed the room. "So, what is this? A halfway house for ghosts or something?"

Bella laughed. "It's beginning to feel like it. I take it you're Emmett?"

"Yes ma'am. My reputation precedes me, I see?"

"Your reputation for appearing in half-naked photos with a certain Oscar-winning actress
certainly does," Bella quipped.

She couldn't help but smile. She could see what drew Rose and Emmett together. His joviality
and strength offset her brittle beauty perfectly.

Carlisle quickly made introductions and took command of the situation. "I don't really think I can
stay much longer, but we need to discuss what happened to you two. I think this is larger than
just a personal vendetta against you."

Esme stepped forward and placed her hand in Carlisle's. "Are you suggesting that we are in
danger?" she asked, brow furrowed.

Carlisle nodded and pulled her closer to him. "Her energy is... familiar," he acknowledged,
looking around at the group. "I think we need to start at the beginning. Rosalie, how do you
know this spirit?"

Rose stiffened and looked out the window, collecting her thoughts, before answering. "I was a
medium. I don't know how that all transferred exactly, but when I was alive, I was often visited
by wandering spirits. It was a difficult thing to cope with as a child."

Alice shot Rose a knowing look, smiling supportively. "Is that why you took up acting?"

"Yes. A side effect of my mind serving as a revolving door for the dead was that I was able to
understand people in all kinds of situations. I found that if I focused on one person, or one
experience, I could immerse myself in the character. I didn't have to be Crazy Rose." She paused,
returning Alice's smile, before continuing. "As time went by, I realized that I could control when
and how spirits came to me. I could shut down that part of myself, but it came with a price.
Eventually the pressure of their needs would become so great that I would have to acknowledge
them. Usually they were lost or had a message for a loved one. Simple things. I'd take some time
off, settle into the right mindset, and let them in. Victoria, though -"

Emmett bristled at Victoria's name. "Why didn't you tell me about her?"

Rose placed a restraining hand on Emmett's chest. "How would you have helped? Besides, I
thought she had moved on."

"Moved on to what? What did she want?" Carlisle prodded, glancing nervously at Esme. He was
beginning to look pale.

Rose rubbed her temples, concentrating on her memories. "Her mind was a very disorganized
place. Being near her was like swimming in murky water. The air was heavier, musty, and it was
like I was unable to breathe or see. She was angry, old, and very powerful. From what I could
discern, she wanted a way to take physical form. If I hadn't taken precautions, I don't know what
would've happened."

Emmett moved behind Rose and wrapped his arms around her, covering the evidence of
Victoria's assault. She smiled at him over her shoulder. "Believe it or not, I think it would've
been worse. If she'd managed to control me, I think the body count would've been much higher."

"How did you stop her?" Emmett asked.

"It's my hidden room," Rose explained. Emmett snickered, earning a sharp elbow to the ribs from
Rosalie. "It's not that kind of room. It's in my house, off the closet. That's where I go to 'receive'
he spirits. Or, at least, where I went," she trailed off slightly before regaining her focus. "I did as
much research as I could when I bought the house and remodeled. The room is purposefully
calm, small, and windowless. There is only one way in and out - the door hidden behind my
full-length mirror. I painted runes of protection, among others, above the door and all along the
walls to keep anyone - or anything - from following me out of the room. That, coupled with this,
allowed me to be open and still feel safe."

Rose lifted up her long hair off the back of her neck. She pointed to small white-ink tattoo just
below her hairline. "Some good that did in the end," she muttered disgustedly. Emmett traced the

outline of the rune with his fingertip. Rose loosened her grip, letting her hair drop inelegantly to
obscure her tattoo again. Emmett continued to massage her neck, his hand hidden by the curtain
of gold. Their faces were portraits of missed opportunities, minds far away from the room
surrounding them.

"So she found someone else to influence," Carlisle said, attempting to move the discussion
along.

"Actually, I'm not convinced that's the way it worked," Rose replied. "There was always
something off about James, but I assumed that it was just show business eccentricity. Maybe he
was under her influence the whole time. I just don't know."

Emmett leaned into Rose, resting his chin on her shoulder. "We'll figure it out, Babe."

Carlisle hugged Esme comfortingly before addressing the group. "Unfortunately, my time here is
almost up for today. I think the trip took more of my energy than I realized." He turned to the
newest members of the house. "Rosalie, Emmett, I'm so sorry I couldn't be of more help before. I
know you have some adjustment ahead. I'll do everything I can to investigate from my end." He
murmured his goodbyes to Esme before turning to Bella. "Be careful." His expression was
worried as he faded from sight.

Bella shuddered involuntarily. How did this become my life?

Edward placed a protective arm over her shoulders, hating his lack of control over the situation.
"Is there anything we can do?" he asked, running his free hand through his hair in frustration.

"Well, I say we work with what we do know," Alice said, standing up. "The best offense is a
good defense and all that."

"The best defense is a good offense," Jasper corrected, redressing himself in his uniform and
receiving an approving nod from Alice. Bella raised an eyebrow at him.

"Now I feel like I can concentrate again. Besides, I never really got the Stones," he said to Bella
with an impish smile.

Bella smiled back, realizing that despite the danger, she was enjoying the chaos that her days had
become. She was sure that there was some sort of psychological explanation for her willingness
to jump headfirst into a tale of ghostly intrigue. After all, her initial reaction had been to ask how
she could help, not if she should help.

Why? A week ago I wouldn't have believed in ghosts, and now I can't wait to see who is going to
turn up next. This James person is a bona fide murderer. Shouldn't I be packing my bags and
heading for higher ground? Is this some sort of risky, Mike-rebound behavior?

As if reading her thoughts, Edward spoke up again. "Bella, you should leave. I don't know how
this Victoria can affect the living, but James is obviously a danger to you."

Hearing the sensible course of action spoken aloud proved just how distasteful the thought of
leaving was. She shook her head. "I will not allow someone crazy, who may or may not be a
threat, to run me out of my house and away from my friends," she squeezed Edward's hand and
gestured to Esme, "and family." She pointed at Willow, resting by the front door. "Besides, I
have security." Edward opened his mouth to protest but Bella cut him off.

"Look, I think I know what is best for me, not you. I know the danger." She tried, once again, to
remember who - and what - Edward was before continuing. "There is still so much that you have
to learn about me, that we have to learn about each other. My father is the Chief of Police in
Phoenix. Rose is not the first murdered woman I've seen. She's just the first I've actually been
able to speak to." She looked at Rose. "I want to help."

"Good, I'm glad we got that straightened out." Rose said sarcastically, shooting a dark look in
Edward's direction. She was clearly intolerant of men making decisions for "their" women.

"Aw, Babe, cut him some slack. He's just worried. You think I wouldn't want you to stay out of
something like this?" Emmett glanced at Edward. "Besides, it kinda looks like while he was
alive, chivalry was as well."

"Chivalry my ass. That's just a way to pretty up chauvinism," Rose sniffed in irritation.

While her attitude was understandable, and even one that Bella shared, she decided that enough
was enough. "Look, Rose, I get it. You had something terrible happen to you. But that doesn't
give you the right to come in here and be a bitch. Picking fights isn't going to help anything."

Rose stared at her, shocked. Apparently being put in her place didn't happen often to Rosalie
Hale. Bella attempted to soften her words. "I've met enough blustery assholes who pretended
they knew what was best for me to last a lifetime. I'm sure you have, too. This isn't one of those
instances, so go easy on all of us, okay?"

Rose, looking a little guilty, nodded quietly. Bella felt Edward shift beside her and turned to give
him a reassuring smile. He began to rub the back of her hand affectionately, but his returning
smile didn't quite reach his eyes. While glad that Bella had defended him, he obviously wasn't
sold on her involvement.

"So," Bella said, looking at Alice, "what, exactly, do we know?"

"Well, it's safe to say that Victoria gave up on her plan of controlling Rosalie's body," Alice
replied, rummaging through the giant leather bag she'd brought with her. "Otherwise I think she
would've been gentler with it."

"You think?" Rose snorted, pulling her still bloodstained hair away from her face. "She wanted
to bind me there. That's the part that James fucked up. It wasn't my body she was trapping, it was
my soul."

Emmett gestured towards Jasper. "I assume the costume over there means we get to choose what
we're wearing. Why don't you slip into something more comfortable?"

"No! Not yet!" Alice said to Rose. She muttered what seemed like obscenities to herself as she
continued to search her Mary-Poppins-bag of a purse. It was the sort of bag that Bella couldn't
place. It didn't seem to fit into any one time period, much like it's owner, and was the size of a
small suitcase. Bella had no idea how Alice managed to carry it around without toppling over.

"Why?" Rose asked, indignant. "Are you enjoying staring at my oozing stab wounds?"

Alice looked up sharply. "Of course not. I'm in pain every time I look at you. Why would I want
to see such a gorgeous designer sweater ripped to shreds?"

Bella swallowed a laugh and interrupted before Rose could escalate the situation. "It sounds like
your murder was ritualistic, right? Maybe some of your wounds could shed some light as to the
purpose."

"Exactly," Alice agreed, her head half inside the giant bag. "Mother father... I know it's in
here..." Alice shook her purse and began pulling odds and ends out of it. The table beside her
was soon littered with gum, lipsticks, hairspray, and fabric swatches.

"Al, what are you looking for?" Jasper asked, peering over her shoulder.

"My notebook. You know, the notebook," she replied, taking a large pink ball out and balancing
it on a stack of paperbacks. "I always have it with me. It has got to be in here!" With that she
tipped her purse over and dumped the remaining contents on the floor with a clatter.

"Can I help?" Bella asked, picking her way across the mess to stand beside Alice. She picked up
a deck of tarot cards and placed them beside the paperbacks, knocking them over. She grabbed
the ball before it rolled under the couch and laughed. "Is this a pink Magic 8 Ball?" Bella asked.
She flipped it over and to see "Without a doubt" appear through the liquid.

Alice suspended her search and held out her hand with a giggle. "Oh, that's Jessica."

"Jessica?" Bella asked incredulously. "You named a Magic 8 Ball?"

"Well, I couldn't just call her 'Magic 8 Ball' all the time. It was too impersonal. Besides, Jessica
and I have been together for years! Haven't we, Jess?" Alice shook the pink, plastic ball and then
held it up to Bella. "Sources say yes," she read aloud. "See?"

Rosalie sighed dramatically. "Touching. Does Jessica have any idea how much longer I have to
stand here like this?"

Alice shook the ball and held it up in Rosalie's direction. "Reply hazy, try again" appeared in the
circular window. Bella couldn't help but smirk as Alice put Jessica back into her purse. "She was
a gift from my sister." Alice's voice was wistful as she said the word "sister," but Alice began to

speak again before Bella could ask about her.

"Anyway," Alice said with a slight roll of her eyes, "it's not here, so we'll just have to work
without it for now. Rose, do you mind turning around so we can see your back?"

Rosalie's face became anxious, and Bella saw her snark for what it was: false bravado. Rose
turned and faced Emmett, her sweater hanging in shreds along with ribbons of skin. Esme gasped
before recovering her composure. The set of her shoulders as she approached Rosalie reminded
Bella that Esme was once a nurse.

"You poor thing," she said, reaching out and pulling the sweater back to get a closer look. "I
thought I had seen it all during the war. It never ceases to amaze me the things people can do to
one another."

Rosalie turned slightly, preparing a sharp reply, but stopped herself when she met Esme's eyes.
Esme's face was open and kind, but most importantly, it was without pity.

"Well, at least I don't have to worry about infection," Rose joked weakly before turning back and
allowing Emmett to pull her close.

Even though she'd seen it once, Bella hadn't actually examined the wounds that closely. She
hadn't appreciated how delicate and deliberate the carving had been. What had first appeared to
be angry slashes were really symbols. She also hadn't appreciated that it would make her feel like
she might throw up.

"I think that part is meant to amplify," Alice said, pointing to Rose's shoulder blade.

"That looks like stability, and maybe that one has to do with transport," Jasper added, gesturing
below Alice's finger. "I don't think we'd understand the rest without knowing the intent."

"Well, it's a start," Bella said.

She noticed Edward had moved and was standing off to the side of the room, alone. He seemed
shaken. He was looking toward Rose, but Bella was sure he was seeing an entirely different
scene. Bella touched Alice's arm to get her attention.

"Alice, I just realized that I left my camera in the clearing. I'd like to get it before nightfall. Are
you okay here without me?"

Alice looked lost for a moment before answering. "Of course! Go, go. I think all the spirits
within a 50-mile radius are here, anyway. You don't have to worry about your haunted woods
during your walk. Well, except for Edward - the ghost you're taking with you."

Edward's head whipped around at the mention of his name, bringing him back to the present. He
looked questioningly at Bella.

"Thanks," Bella called, already halfway to the door. She scooped up her keys and whistled for
Willow. "Lead the way," she said to Edward.

He still looked slightly confused, but nodded and walked past her and through the door. She
waved to Esme and braced herself for the late-afternoon chill, opening the door and following
Edward.

The walk to Edward's spring was quiet. She felt like she had lost him somehow, and she wasn't
quite sure how to get him back. The wind blew past them, rustling leaves and whipping her hair
around her face. Edward, walking slightly in front of her, wasn't bothered by the gusts. His hair,
glowing with some dim inner light, didn't move.

Can anything truly touch him? she thought, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

Too soon they were in the clearing. Bella's camera lay beside the spring where she had dropped
it. She walked over and picked it up, pretending to examine it for damage while she tried to
collect her thoughts. She looked up to find Edward standing in front of her, his eyes burning. His
smell surrounded her, his presence weighing her down and pinning her in place.

She felt like her life before had been a series of out-of-focus portraits, blurred and nondescript.
She had been an observer of life before, but had never truly participated. Suddenly she was
seeing things clearly. For once, she wanted to be in the picture. She decided that it needed to start
now.

"Edward..." she breathed.

"Bella..." he whispered, his gaze dipping from her eyes to her lips. She waited, sure he was about
to kiss her.

"You need to leave," he commanded.

Wait, what? she thought, shocked. She stared at him, at a loss for words, as he continued.

"It's not safe. Victoria will follow them here, and James will kill you."

Bella felt her face flushing as her temper flared. How many times am I going to have to say this?

"Edward, I am not going anywhere. This is my house and my land. This is my life, and this is my
decision."

Edward's face twisted in anger, and the temperature began to fall. "Who do you think you are?
You couldn't begin to understand the evil in this world. The things I've seen..." He trailed off, his
eyes staring into the distance before focusing on her again. "Why don't you have any sense of
self-preservation?"

"Don't blame your past on me!" Bella seethed, her hands balling into fists at her side. She was

quickly feeling herself losing control. "Who are you to treat me like a child?"

"Someone who knows better! Why should I stand by and watch you be slaughtered? You might
as well hang a bell on your neck." He narrowed his eyes at her, shaking with rage. "Or is that
what this is about? Are you using me to get to a supernatural finish line?"

Without thinking, Bella pulled her arm back and slapped him across the face. "How dare you
assume anything about me."

Edward stared at her, stunned. He brought his hand up to his cheek, trapping her hand, and the
temperature dropped even further. She jerked away, her pulse racing. Her mind was screaming at
her to run away. She wanted to stand up for herself and tell him he could go to hell and take his
overbearing attitude with him. As his eyes bore into hers, reflecting her anger, she saw
something else: his fear. He was still in the past, fighting a battle he'd been too young to fight at
the time. A battle that wasn't his to fight. She needed to bring him back and set him free.

She let her gaze burn in return, but with something other than anger. Something just as primal.
Reaching up and pulling his head down to hers, she said the one thing she could think of to reach
him: "I've made my choice."

With that, she kissed him forcefully, refusing to free him from her stare. She communicated all
the other things she didn't know how to say through her touch. Her lips told him to stop
mourning. Her eyes told him to let go. Her body curved itself into his and told him to be here,
now, with her.

His body answered her. His lips were tentative. His eyes were hopeful. Bella began to feel the
surging electricity that always seemed to surround them. Instead of feeling drained, this time she
felt like she was completing a circuit. Wave after wave washed over them, tongues dancing in
tune with the tides.

Bella finally broke away, gasping for breath. It's time. Now.

She set her camera back on the ground, then covered it with her jacket. Edward stared, his face
unreadable, as her shoes, sweater, shirt, and jeans joined them. Standing before him, clad only in
her blue bra and panties, she let her instincts guide her. With a couple of swift movements, she
was naked. She thought she should be cold, and maybe a little nervous, but she wasn't. She had
never been so sure of anything as she was of Edward.

Bella held out her hand to him and stepped backward, letting herself fall into the spring. She felt
the icy water surround her and was momentarily afraid that she'd been wrong. Her fear melted as
she felt a familiar hand on her wrist, pulling her back up. She had barely surfaced and taken in a
gulp of air before he was kissing her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and let out a little
moan as he moved from her mouth to her ear, nibbling on her earlobe.

He guided her over to the edge of the spring, setting her onto a natural shelf below the surface.
The water had warmed. Steam rose from the surface and surrounded their faces, clouding Bella's

vision. She noticed that his clothes were gone, his pale skin distorted by the water rippling
around them. She spread her palms across his chest, exploring. He had never seemed more
ghostly. He had never felt so real.

She looked up at him to see him hungrily devouring her with his eyes. Reaching out to touch her
breast, he hesitated and met her gaze. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes," she sighed, wrapping her legs around his waist. The last of his hesitation fell away as he
melted into her.

"Yes," she whispered over and over.

He let her lead him home.


Just a note, there have been some random issues with FanFiction(dot)net lately. I'm posting
Frozen Spring on Twilighted as well as here and will continue to do so. If Frozen Spring is ever
pulled for any reason, you can find it here: http://twilighted(dot)net/viewstory(dot)php?sid=8726

Thanks to each and every one of you who reads, reviews, and patiently waits for this story.
Seeing the notes in my inbox really make my day.

Oh, and Jessica has a message for Ciao_Bella's Joan (every anthropomorphic object needs a
bestie, after all): "Most likely." Now if only I knew what Joan had asked... *wink*


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Chapter: 9


A/N: I know it's been a while, so I've included a little refresher from last chapter. Thanks, as
always, to the amazing SecondGlantz for her mad beta skills and to the incredibly talented
TallulahBelle for prereading. Thanks, also, to everyone who reads and reviews. Y'all give me
the will to continue on the days when I want to pull my hair out from frustration.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of the characters below. No copyright infringement is
intended. I do own a mental image of plum blossoms floating on a spring under the moon and
way too many lemon-writing playlists.


He guided her over to the edge of the spring, setting her onto a natural shelf below the surface.
The water had warmed. Steam rose from the surface and surrounded their faces, clouding Bella's
vision. She noticed that his clothes were gone, his pale skin distorted by the water rippling

around them. She spread her palms across his chest, exploring. He had never seemed more
ghostly. He had never felt so real.

She looked up at him to see him hungrily devouring her with his eyes. Reaching out to touch her
breast, he hesitated and met her gaze. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes," she sighed, wrapping her legs around his waist. The last of his hesitation fell away as he
melted into her.

"Yes," she whispered over and over.

He let her lead him home.





Bella ran her hand through Edward's still-damp hair, marveling at the scene around them. They
were lying in the soft grass of the meadow. A warm breeze blew lightly past, pulling at the drops
of water that remained sprinkled across her body. By the setting sun, she could see the border of
Edward's world, spring-green grass and budding trees abruptly giving way to the dull brown of
the forest floor. As she watched, wildflowers began to open, and vines curled around tree trunks
before exploding into rich orange and yellow blooms. She inhaled deeply, the scents of spring
surrounding her, and smiled to herself.

Magic, she thought.

Shifting slightly, she caught Edward's eyes on her mouth. He, too, was lightly dusted with water
droplets, the remaining sunlight transforming them into tiny gems. Her smile widened as she
stretched her neck up to kiss him lightly. Pure magic.

"Honeysuckle?" she asked, breathing in again and resting her chin on her hands.

He smiled a small, wistful smile before propping himself up one elbow and pointing to the red
and orange flowers climbing the trunk of a large tree. "Yes, over there. My mother loved it.
Father would call it a weed and complain about it climbing the brick, but he never cut it down.
When it was blooming she would open the windows, and the smell would fill the house."

"That sounds lovely," Bella said. "Sometimes life is in the little details, huh?"

Edward reached out his free hand and pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Yes, it is," he
said. "Like the color of your hair, lit by the last rays of the dying sun. Such a small detail, yet I
think two-hundred years from now, I will still remember that."

Bella blushed and looked away. "That is disgustingly sappy, Edward. I know for a fact that my
hair is the color of mud and that the sunset just washes me out. I've seen pictures."

Edward laughed softly. "You don't like praise, do you? What would you do if I wrote you a
sonnet declaring my love, or two-page letters about the depths of your eyes?"

Bella rolled her eyes and huffed. "I'm fine with praise, Edward. Just only when it's warranted."

Edward reached over and lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "I don't lie, Bella. I'm too
old to feel it's worth the bother. Your hair is the color of chocolate silk, and your eyes are the
most incredibly expressive I've ever seen."

"Well, um, thank you." Bella blushed again, but she didn't look away this time. "What about your
childhood, though? I liked hearing about the honeysuckle." Let's change the subject, okay? she
thought.

Edward gave her a sharp look, understanding what she was doing, but answered her question. "I
cherish the small details that I remember. Father's pipe. Mother's piano. The thunderous beats of
a stallion galloping over the ground. The rush I felt when an unruly filly would finally submit to
my will."

Bella snorted, images of Edward "taming" faceless women in period dress floating through her
mind. Probably wearing "chocolate silk," she thought.

"Like that one, do you?" Edward asked with a grin.

"Well, I was just imagining exactly the kind of rush you must mean," she said with a smirk. "I
would imagine that an attractive man like you had plenty of opportunities to tame the local
fillies."

"Oh, Bella," Edward exclaimed with a laugh, "I learned very early on that women cannot be
tamed. In fact, I'm finding that I feel it's the other way around and that women do the taming."

Bella wound her arms around Edward's neck, pulling him closer. For the moment, at least, there
was a lightness about him. Smirking, she bowed her head and kissed him gently along his jaw.
When their eyes met again, she couldn't place the look he was giving her. It was a cross between
anger and amusement.

"What is it?" Bella asked with concern as she sat up slightly.

"I seem to be allowing myself to be taken advantage of," he said.

"You - what?" she asked, incredulous.

"In my day, no proper woman would have disrobed in front of a man like that. Especially a man
she hardly knows. How can I be held accountable for my actions?"

"Disrobed? We're lying naked next to each other in post-coital bliss - your first time in

seventy-odd years, I might add - and you're chastising me for disrobing?"

"That's exactly my point," Edward replied.

The emotion Bella had mistaken for anger finally solidified in her mind. Is he trying to pick a
fight? Or is he just being a playful pain in the ass? Bella narrowed her eyes at him as he
continued.

"No gentle woman would put herself in such a position. Clearly you are taking advantage of my
relative innocence."

"Are you calling me a floozy?" she asked, fighting a smirk while crossing her arms over her chest
in indignation.

"Your words, not mine," he grinned in return as he allowed his gaze to linger on her chest.

Bella scowled and readjusted her arms. Like he deserves the girls on a platter right now!

"Well, it's not my fault that you are so very ancient, dear Edward. Would you prefer that I sit at
home on my couch, surrounded by spirit chaperones, and wait for you to call on me?"

"It's not what I prefer so much as how you deserve to be treated, dear Bella. I should court you
like the lady you are."

"I've been courted before. It ended with a returned ring and lots of cold showers." Her scowl
faded as she gave in. She ran her palm across his chest before adding, "And, for what it's worth,
I'm not exactly a lady."

Edward wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her tightly against him. "I think I can live
with that. I'm not exactly a gentleman. And you are incredibly cute when you are worked up."

A joke about being worked up died on Bella's lips as her mind wandered to their earlier time in
the spring. Images of Edward's face tight in concentration, his muscles flexing over her, caused
her to flush. Her eyes raked over his reclining form before meeting his gaze. She could see, and
feel, that his mind had wandered in the same direction.

She cleared her throat in an attempt to clear her mind. She was enjoying talking to him
comfortably, without distractions, and knew that any coherent thoughts would be lost if she gave
in to the hormones clamoring for a different type of interaction.

"So, um, you control all of this? You pick what grows and what doesn't?"

Edward nodded. "I never thought about it much before, but yes." The emotion in his eyes
changed yet again. He seemed to be willing himself to come back to the present. "It's been a long
time since I've allowed anything to bloom here, Bella. You did this for me. You're slowly setting
me free."

Her throat suddenly felt thick.

He's right, you know, she told herself. About all of it. About the role reversal, about the effect
you have on him... and he has on you.

Blinking rapidly, she stood to examine some of the flowers climbing the trees. She didn't
understand her sudden jumble of emotions. Was she in love? Yes. She was sure of it. And yet,
instead of feeling giddy, she felt sad. How long can this last? A love affair with a ghost? How
can this end happily?


She pointed to a small tree, heavy with pink flowers, that bloomed beside the spring. The
blossoms were reflected in the water by the rising moonlight, making Bella think of a puffy
purple cloud. "What's that one?" she asked.

"That's a plum tree. Plums were always a favorite of..." His voice broke partway through his
description, and images rushed into his head unbidden.

A small blonde turns to him, smiling sweetly, and gestures to the plums hanging just out of reach.
With a laugh, he hoists her up in the air, holding her by the waist as she stretches and grabs the
ripe fruit. Giggling, she squirms in his grasp, daring him to let go. He drops her purposefully,
catching her just inches from the ground and laying her down unharmed. She looks up at him,
breathing hard from exertion and surprise, before seductively licking her lips and biting into the
plum still clutched tightly in her hand. Juice runs down her chin, dripping into the hollow at the
base of her neck. He looks at her, hair billowed out around her, chest heaving, eyes glittering
with impish pleasure. He dips his head to her neck and sucks gently, licking the juice and
traveling upward to her glistening lips.


"They were always a favorite of mine," he finished, eyes far away.

"Oh," Bella replied lamely. Way to kill the mood completely, she thought.

She sensed some movement near the spring and tore her eyes away from Edward's broken face.
She gasped at what she saw.

A semi-transparent figure had appeared under the plum tree. It was a woman, or more accurately,
an almost-woman. She looked to be about seventeen, her white-blonde hair whipping in an
unseen wind. She was smiling about something, and there was a glint in her eyes, as if she was in
on some secret joke. She was holding her hands behind her back, her thin figure overtaken with
full skirts and puffy sleeves. Jane...


After a moment of staring, Bella finally realized that she was seeing an image from long ago;
there was no life or awareness coming from the girl. Here was his Jane, standing under the plum

tree. Yet she was like a moving photograph: only a moment captured in Edward's memory for all
of his eternity. She was glad that this memory was a happy one, at least. She shuddered at the
thought of the other memories Edward's subconscious could have projected.

Way to go, Bella. You had to ask about the one thing that would remind him of his dead
girlfriend.


Despite their playful banter, she could tell that he took physical intimacy seriously. He was, after
all, a man of his time. This has got to be hard on him. She was the reason he killed himself.
Maybe he needs to talk about it.


"Edward, I'd never expect you to forget about your past. Do you want to talk about her?" she
asked. She wasn't sure if she wanted him to say yes or no.

He shook his head no, and Bella couldn't deny her sense of relief. She looked back under the
plum tree and was relieved to see memory-Jane fade slightly. The memory took on the quality of
an image projected onto smoke, flickering in and out, but Bella could've sworn the girl's
expression became one of reproach. Either that, or her imagination was projecting her own guilt.

She felt a tug at her hand and was pulled out of her musings. Edward was standing behind her.
He took her breath away, his muscular form appearing to glow in the moonlight. It washed the
color out of him, leaving shadows and angles, but allowing his eyes to shine through the
darkness. Seeming to pull in all the available light around them, they were telegraphing a
bittersweet love. So much fragile, broken beauty...


He reached up and brushed a tear from her cheek. She knew he wasn't the only broken one.

"Edward..." she breathed, unsure of what she wanted to say, but needing to say it. How do we go
from bliss to despair so quickly? I'm so lost here. "I want to be something for you. Whatever it is
that you need. I just... I don't want to trespass."

"I know," he replied quickly, brushing her cheek with his hand before leaning in to kiss her.
"Thank you," he whispered into the kiss.

Bella returned his kiss, tingles dancing across her body where their naked flesh touched.

Maybe we don't need a happy ending, just a happy now, she thought, giving in to her feelings.

The electricity sparked and popped its way through her body, but instead of moving on, it
seemed to ignite her from within. She was filled with an irrational need to burn his past lover
from his memory. Somewhere in the back of her mind, through the haze of tongues and touches,
she had to admit to herself that she did want him to forget.

He brought his hands up to her hair, holding her steady as his tongue explored her mouth before
moving his attention to her earlobe. Bella let her hands wander to his waist, raking her nails
down his sides. He shuddered at her touch as he kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear.

"Bella," he moaned softly, removing his hands from her hair and cupping her breasts. It was her
turn to moan as he pulled at her hardening nipples, first with his fingers and then with his mouth.
His teeth gently grazed and nibbled before his head dipped lower.

Bella's breathing quickened, and she leaned onto the vine-covered maple behind her, wrapping
her hands in his hair for support. She quickly lost all thoughts of Jane or anyone else. The only
thing that existed in that moment was her overwhelming need for Edward. As if hearing her
thoughts, Edward lowered himself to his knees and lifted one of her legs onto his shoulder,
exposing her completely. He kissed her inner thigh before nipping her lightly, earning a forceful
tug of his hair.

He glanced upward and saw her looking down at him. Her eyes were dark but far from
unreadable. They held the same unbridled lust as his. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and her
chest was heaving. He brought his fingers up to explore her, tearing his eyes away from hers to
focus on the sight before him. Bella shuddered involuntarily as he brushed against her sex, losing
what composure she had left. Her legs began to shake, and Edward brought his hands up,
cupping her bottom to support her while he continued his investigation. He spent several minutes
alternating between licking and sucking on her sensitive flesh, trying to burn all of her moans of
pleasure into his memory.

"So beautiful," he murmured into her thigh as he brought her to the edge of her release.

"Edward!" she cried out, throwing her hands against the tree trunk as she felt the wave of
pleasure rock through her. He watched her in awe. She was the most beautiful creature he'd ever
seen in that moment. With her hair flying wildly around her face, peppered with fallen flowers,
and her hands wrapped in the honeysuckle vines, she looked like some sort of goddess of spring.

Instantly, he was wracked with guilt. Other images came to him of another woman. In his mind's
eye, the chestnut waves were replaced with long, blonde locks and the full, rosy lips replaced by
a tiny, glistening pout. The guilt was quickly replaced with anger. Bella was afraid of
trespassing, but in this most intimate of moments with her, she was being trespassed against. And
it was his fault. He was the one bringing memories of past loves along, not her. He was not going
to allow it any longer.

He stood up and crushed his lips on hers, kissing away the memory of any other lips. She didn't
fully understand his sudden urgency, but she wasn't about to argue with him. Instead, she
wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss in kind. She gasped as he lifted her
slightly, repositioning her against the tree with her legs around his waist. He kissed her again,
hard, before meeting her eyes.

"I love you," he said, softly but with conviction.

Feeling the weight of the moment, she placed her hands on either side of his face and kissed him
gently before responding. "I love you too, Edward."

With her words, the tight lines around Edward's eyes relaxed, and his body seemed to move of its
own accord. He entered her quickly, his hand behind her head to keep her from hurting herself
on the tree. With each thrust, the scent of the honeysuckle exploded around them, crushed by
their movement. Bella moaned, her body on fire yet again. The vines softened her upright
support as she pushed herself down to meet him each time, needing to be closer, to feel more.

Bella had no sense of time. There was no beginning and no end to their movement, just a
completed circuit humming through them, building until they could contain it no longer. She
cried out first, light exploding behind her eyes, and Edward followed soon after. She fell forward
slightly, completely exhausted, and Edward lowered her from her perch.

Edward lay down on the soft grass under the maple, cradling Bella on top of him. He thought up
a warm breeze, and Bella slowly fell asleep to the sound of leaves rustling above. Edward softly
kissed the top of her head, for once completely relaxed. He smiled as a new patch of flowers
sprung up around him. Tomorrow he'd explain to Bella that she'd inspired the strawberries that
surrounded them.

As the breeze filtered through the plum tree, knocking blossoms to the ground, it swept past
empty grass. The memory of Jane was gone. Maybe not forgotten completely, but fully tucked
away. The only memories in the spring were in the form of crushed honeysuckle, quietly
repairing themselves on a sturdy maple.


Ch End Notes: Bella and Edward may have forgotten that they're being stalked by psychotic
murderers, but I haven't. See you next chapter! ;)