long night

I miss you already."

"I don't need to leave. I can stay…"

"Mmm. Don't tempt me."

It was quiet for a long moment, just the thud of my heart hammering, the broken rhythm of our ragged breathing, and the whisper of our lips moving in synchronization.

Sometimes it was so easy to forget that I was kissing a vampire. Not because he seemed ordinary or human—I couldn't never for a second forget that I was holding someone who wasn't human in my arms—but because he made it seem like nothing at all to have his lips against my lips, my face, my throat. He claimed he was long past the temptation my blood used to be for him, that the idea of losing me had cured him of any desire for it. But I knew the smell of my blood still caused him pain—still burned his throat like he was inhaling flames.

I opened my eyes and found his open, too, staring at my face. It always made me smile; the way he looked at me. Like I was some wonderful prize. It made me feel special.

Our gazes locked for a moment; his golden eyes were so deep that I imagined I could see all the way into his soul. It seemed silly that this fact—the existence of his soul—had ever been in question, even if he was a vampire. He had the most beautiful soul, more beautiful that his brilliant mind or his incomparable face or his glorious body.

He looked back at me as if he could see my soul, too, and as if he liked what he saw.

He couldn't see into my mind, though, the way he saw into everyone else's. Who knew why—some strange glitch in my brain that made it immune to all the extraordinary and frightening things some immortals could do. It was only my mind that was immune; my body was still subject to vampires with abilities that worked in ways other than Edward's. But I was seriously grateful to whatever it was that kept my thoughts a secret. I imagined some of Edward's old-time sensibilities would be in for quite a shock if he could read my mind.

I pulled his face to mine again.

"Definitely staying," he murmured a moment later.

"No, no. It's your bachelor party. You have to go."

I said the words, but the fingers of my right hand were still running through his bronze hair, my left hand still on the small of his back. His cool hands stroked my face.

"Bachelor parties are designed for those who are sad to see the passing of their single days. I couldn't be more eager to have mine behind me. So there's really no point."

"True." I breathed against the winter-cold skin of his throat.

I didn't want him to leave. In fact, I was pretty content at the moment. We were curled up on my small bed, intertwined as much as it was possible, considering the thick afghan I was swathed in like a cocoon. I hated the necessity of the blanket, but it sort of ruined the romance when my teeth started chattering. Charlie would noticed if I turned the heat on in August…

I felt Edward's compromise was very fair, though. If I had to be bundled up, then his shirt was on the floor. I never got over the shock of how perfect his body was—white, cool, and polished as marble. I ran my hand down his stone chest now, tracing across the flat planes of his stomach, just marveling. A light shudder rippled through him, and his mouth found mind again. Carefully, I let the tip of my tongue press against his glass-smooth lip, and he moaned. His sweet breath washed—cold and delicious—over my face.

He started to pull away—that was his automatic response whenever he worried things were going too far, his reflex reaction whenever he most wanted to keep going. Edward had spent most of his life rejecting any kind of physical gratification. I knew it was terrifying to him trying to change those habits now.

"Hold on," I said, gripping his shoulders and hugging myself close to him. I kicked one leg free of the blanket and wrapped it around his waist. "Practice makes perfect."

He let out another moan. "Well, we should be fairly close to perfection by this point, then, shouldn't we? Have you slept at all in the last month?"

"Well, this is dress rehearsal," I reminded him, "and we've only practiced certain scenes. It's no time for playing safe."

He smirked, and his icy hand ran down my bare leg, he started leaning in deeper to me, he planted gentle kisses on my neck and my fingers tangled in his hair. His hands reached my thigh and I let out a soft whimper. He growled in response and his fingers began to move further up my thigh. My pulse quickened, and my breath became ragged.

"Edward…" I moaned.

Instantly his lips were on mine and his hand was under the blanket at my waist, in the passion of the moment my fingers pulled at his hair and his hand gripped the waistband of my underwear.

"Beau…" He groaned against my lips, his kisses becoming more frantic.

The sudden sound of fabric ripping startled me out of the moment, and Edward was a statue over me. I looked at his frozen face, the gold of his eyes seemed to harden from liquid to a solid and his lips were pressed into a hard line.

I lifted up the blanket and glanced down, my underwear had torn half way down the side where he had been gripping them.

"Oops," I mumbled. "Um…"

"I don't know," He finally said, "if we can…" he trailed off.

"Come on, now," I said softly, "don't start this again. We talked about this."

"I don't know. It's too hard to concentrate when you're with me like this. I—I can't think straight. I won't be able to control myself. You'll get hurt."

"I'll be fine."

"Beau…"

"Shh!" I pressed my lips to his to stop his panic attack. I pulled back and looked at him. "Come on, we said we'd try, didn't we? And you were pretty insistent on me having all those human experiences, right?"

"Yes, but—"

"Nope. Stop worrying." I sighed. "This is as far as we're going tonight. When it's actually… showtime… We'll, uh, take it slow!" I said encouragingly.

"Okay, Beau." He sighed, finally relaxing—a little.

"Also, you're buying me some new underwear." I raised my eyebrow.

He finally chuckled, and I felt some relief.

"How are your feet?" he asked.

Knowing he didn't mean that literally, I answered, "Toasty warm."

"Really? No second thoughts? It's not too late to change your mind."

"Are you trying to ditch me?"

He chuckled again. "Just making sure. I don't want you to do anything you're not sure about."

"I'm sure about you, Edward."

"Are you?" he asked quietly. "Am I worth having to give up everything some day? What about Renée and Charlie?"

I knew what he meant, even I stayed human forever and lived out my human life by Edward's side, we'd have to leave eventually. The Cullens couldn't stay in one place for too long.

I sighed. "I'll miss them with all of my heart," I confessed. "But even if I can never seethem again, I can call, write letters…"

"Angela and Ben and Jessica and Mike?"

"I'll miss my friends, too." I smiled in the darkness. "Especially Mike. Oh, Mike! How will I go on?"

He growled.

I laughed but then was serious. "Edward, we've been through this and through this. I know it will be hard, but this is what I want. I want you. I want our forever."

"But what if forever means…" He trailed off, unable—or unwilling—to say the words.

"Then so be it." I shrugged.

"Frozen forever," he whispered. "Never changing… never moving forward."

"Maybe. But what's so bad about that?"

"You know Royal's feelings on the matter, you know how hard it was for him." He said.

"I do."

He sighed, and then his voice was fierce. "It's not right! I don't want you to have to make sacrifices for me. I want to give you things, not take things away from you. I don't want to steal your future. If I were human—"

I put my hand over his lips. "Youare my future. The future I chose. Now stop. No moping, or I'm calling your brothers to come and get you. Maybe you need a bachelor party."

"I'm sorry. I am moping, aren't I? Must be the nerves."

"Are your feet cold?"

"Not in that sense. I've been waiting a century to marry you, Beauregard Swan. The wedding ceremony is the one thing I can't wait—" He broke off mid-thought. "Oh, for the love of all that's holy!"

"What's wrong?"

He gritted his teeth. "You don't have to call my brothers. Apparently Emmett and Jasper are not going to let me bow out tonight."

I clutched him closer for one second and then released him. I didn't have a prayer of winning a tug-of-war with Emmett. "Have fun."

There was a light thump against the window. Emmett's giant shape, hanging from the frame of the window, blocked out the moonlight.

"If you don't send him out, Beau," Emmett's low voice teased, "we're coming in after him!"

"Emmett!" Edward hissed, dashing from the bed and scooping up his shirt, "Get out of here."

I hopped out of bed and glared at him. "I don't think I invited youinto my room."

"I'm not in your room." Emmett snickered, "I'm still out—" He stopped. "Damn, bro, it's not your honeymoon yet. You're already ripping his clothes off?"

I glanced down and remembered the tear in my underwear and that I was standing there in nothing but a tank top and my underwear. I quickly grabbed the afghan off the bed and wrapped it around myself.

"Okay, get down right now!" I hissed.

"I didn't see anything!" Emmett countered.

"Emmett!" I hissed again.

And he was gone.

"Okay, go," I laughed, standing on my toes to kiss Edward on the cheek. "Before they break my house… Or I throw something at Emmett."

I heard Emmett snickering again from the yard.

Edward rolled his eyes, he leaned down and kissed my forehead.

"Get to sleep. You've got a big day tomorrow."

"Thanks! That's sure to help me wind down."

"I'll meet you at the altar."

"I'll be the one in white." I smiled.

He chuckled as he sank into a crouch, his muscles coiled like a spring. He vanished—launching himself out my window too swiftly for my eyes to follow.

Outside there was a muted thud, and I heard Emmett curse.

"You'd better not make him late," I murmured, knowing they could hear.

And then Jasper's face was peering in my window, his honey hair silver in the weak moonlight that worked through the clouds.

"Don't worry, Beau. We'll get him home in plenty of time."

I was suddenly very calm, and my nerves about the next day all seemed unimportant. Jasper was, in his own way, just as talented as Alice with her uncannily accurate predictions. Jasper's medium was moods rather than the future, and it was impossible to resist feeling the way he wanted you to feel.

I sat down on my bed, wrapping my blanket tightly around me. "Jasper? What do vampires do for bachelor parties? You're not taking him to a strip club, are you?"

"Don't tell him anything!" Emmett growled from below. There was another thud, and Edward laughed quietly.

"Relax," Jasper told me—and I did. "We Cullens have our own version. Just a few mountain lions, a couple of grizzly bears. Pretty much an ordinary night out."

"Sexy."

He laughed, winked, and dropped from sight.

It was completely silent outside. Charlie's muffled snores droned through the walls.

I checked my phone, picking it up from the little nightstand next to my bed, once last time before laying down. There was a text message from Jessica to the group that her, Angela, and myself were in.

Can't wait for tomorrow, Jessica said.

Thanks, Jess. I'm excited to see you there. I responded.

A text from Angela popped up now, Are you nervous?

I thought about that for a moment, before responding, Yeah, kind of. Excited and nervous.

Jessica texted back, I still can't believe you're getting married!

Yeah, so crazy! Angela said.

You're going to be married this time tomorrow! Jessica said.

I know, I still can't totally wrap my head around it. I replied.

OK, this is such a guy thing to say but I want all the wedding night details. Jessica's text made me laugh out loud.

Angela responded before I could, Oh my gosh, Jess…

I'll consider giving some details, I humored Jessica.

Ugh, fine. See you tomorrow! Jessica said.

Goodnight, guys! See you tomorrow! Angela said.

I set my phone down and lay back against my pillow, sleepy now. I stared at the walls of my little room, bleached pale in the moonlight, from under heavy lids.

My last night in my room. My last night as Beauregard Swan. Tomorrow night, I would be Beau Cullen. I rather liked the sound of that.

I let my mind wander idly for a moment, expecting sleep to take me. But, after a few minutes, I found myself more alert, anxiety creeping back into my stomach, twisting it into uncomfortable positions. The bed seemed too soft, too warm without Edward in it. Jasper was far away, and all the peaceful, relaxed feelings were gone with him.

It was going to be a very long day tomorrow.

I was aware that most of my fears were stupid—I just had to get over myself. Attention was an inevitable part of life. I couldn't always blend in with the scenery. However, I did have a few specific worries that were completely valid.

First there was my tuxedo for tomorrow. Alice clearly had let her artistic sense overpower practicalities on that one. The tuxedo was beautiful, to be sure, but it was exceedingly expensive—obscenelyexpensive. I imagined all the ways I could ruin in by tripping, spilling food or drink on it.

Then there was the guest list.

Taras and his family, the Denali clan, would be arriving sometime before the ceremony.

It would be touchy to have Taras and his family in the same room with our guests from the Quileute reservation, Jacob's father and the Clearwaters. The Denalis were no fans of the wolves. In fact, Taras' brother Ivan was not coming to the wedding at all. He still nursed a vendetta against the wolves for killing his friend Laurent—just as Laurent was about to kill me. Thanks to that grudge, the Denalis had abandoned Edward's family in their worst hour of need. It had been the unlikely alliance with the Quileute wolves that had saved all our lives when the horde of newborn vampires had attacked…

Edward had promised me it wouldn't be dangerous to have the Denalis near the Quileutes. Taras and all his family—besides Ivan—felt horribly guilty for that defection. A truce with the wolves was a small price to make up some of that debt, a price they were prepared to pay.

That was the big problem, but there was a small problem, too: my self-esteem.

I'd never seen Taras before, but I was sure that meeting him wouldn't be a pleasant experience for my ego. Once upon a time, before I was born probably, he'd made his play for Edward—not that I blamed Taras or anyone else for wanting Edward. Still, he would be beautiful at the very least and magnificent at best. Though Edward clearly—if surprisingly—preferred me, I wouldn't be able to help making comparisons.

I had grumbled a little until Edward explained it all to me plainly.

"We're the closest thing they have to a family, Beau," he'd reminded me. "They still feel like orphans, you know, even after all this time."

So I'd conceded. I could be a good sport, after all.

Taras had a big family now, almost as big as the Cullens. There were five of them; Taras, Kate, and Ivan had been joined by Carmen and Elena much the same way the Cullens had been joined by Alice and Jasper, all of them bonded by their desire to live more compassionately than normal vampires did.

For all the company, though, Taras and his siblings were still alone in one way. Still in mourning. Because a very long time ago, they'd had a mother, too.

I could imagine the hole that loss would leave, even after a thousand years; I tried to visualize the Cullen family without their creator, their center, and their guide—their father, Carlisle. I couldn't see it.

Carlisle had explained Taras' history during one of the many nights I'd stayed late at the Cullens' home, learning as much as I could, preparing as much as was possible for the future I'd chosen. Taras' mother's story was one among many, a cautionary tale illustrating just one of the rules I would need to be aware of if I joined the immortal world. Only one rule, actually—one law that broke down into a thousand different facets: Keep the secret.

Keeping the secret meant a lot of things—living inconspicuously like the Cullens, moving on before humans could suspect they weren't aging. Or keeping clear of humans altogether—except at mealtime—the way nomads like James and Victor had lived; the way Jasper's friends, Peter and Charlotte, still lived. It meant keeping control of whatever new vampires you created, like Jasper had done when he'd lived with Maria. Like Victor had failed to do with his newborns.

These were all ways one could fail to keep the secret.

"I don't know Taras' mother's name," Carlisle had admitted, his golden eyes, almost the exact shade of his fair hair, sad with remembering Taras' pain. "They never speak of her if they can avoid it, never think of her willingly.

"The woman who created Taras, Kate, and Ivan—who loved them, I believe—lived many years before I was born, what I can gather about her, though, is that she was always regretful of her immortal life. She missed her mortality so greatly that it gnawed away at her for much of her existence. There was a village she was fond of, that she would frequently visit. It may even have been the village she lived in before her immortal life, I do not know for certain. Eventually, the woman she had been was forgotten and she became known as some sort of goddess-like creature to the people of that village—they thought her some sort of angel on earth. They even began to worship her.

"She broke the rules, she clung too deeply to the mortal world and hid nothing." He shook his head, sadly. "The Volturi became involved, of course."

I'd flinched as I always did at that name, but of course the legion of Italian vampires— royalty in their own estimation—was central to this story. There couldn't be a law if there was no punishment; there couldn't be a punishment if there was no one to deliver it. The ancients Aro, Caius, and Marcus ruled the Volturi forces; I'd only met them once, but in that brief encounter, it seemed to me that Aro, with his powerful mind-reading gift—one touch, and he knew every thought a mind had ever held—was the true leader.

This royal vampire family was another reason I may have to leave my human life behind one day. When I had met them, my humanity had proven to be quite the problem. I was allowed to live, but only on the promise that I would be turned into a vampire myself. The Volturi had vowed to one day check in and make sure the Cullens had, in fact, followed through on that promise. The threat of that visit meant that I either had to be ready to run or give up my mortality at a moment's notice.

I'd all but forgotten the Denali siblings' mother when the story returned to her.

"It is unclear precisely what happened with Taras' mother," Carlisle had said. "Taras, Kate, and Irina were entirely oblivious until the day the Volturi came for them, their mother already their prisoners. It was ignorance that saved Taras and his siblings lives. Aro touched them and saw their total innocence, so they were not punished with their mother.

"None of them had ever seen the village before, or even knew of its existence, until the day they watched it burn along with their mother. I can only guess that she had kept her secret to protect them from this exact outcome. But why had she risked everything for this little village? Did she love it and the attention she received there more than the family she had created? Taras and the others never received an answer to these questions. But they could not doubt their mother's guilt, and I don't think they've ever truly forgiven her.

"Even with Aro's perfect assurance that Taras, Kate, and Ivan were innocent, Caius wanted them to burn. Guilty by association. They were lucky that Aro felt like being merciful that day. Taras and his siblings were pardoned, but left with unhealing hearts and a very healthy respect for the law…"

I'm not sure where exactly the memory turned into a dream. One moment it seemed that I was listening to Carlisle in my memory, looking at his face, and then a moment later I was standing in a golden meadow—mine and Edward's meadow. I turned, and there he was, beautiful and perfect and smiling. He was dressed entirely in white, in clothes from another time, as was I.

It was the wedding, or at least some fantasy version of it. White rose petals seemed to be falling from the sky and everything was beautiful and perfect.

Then, suddenly, the light shifted, everything around me grew dark I turned and found myself face to face with a wall of cloaked Volturi guards all whispering and hissing in impossibly fast voices, I reached for Edward but when my hands found his they were wet and warm. I looked down and saw why; they were covered in blood.

Our hands and our clothes were covered with blood. As I felt the horror rising within me, a figure broke through the line of Volturi guards; Aro, smiling wickedly at me. I took a panicked step back, nearly tripping over something at my feet; an arm.

The horror overtook me completely as I realized we weren't standing on the ground. We were standing atop a pile of human bodies, drained and lifeless, and I knew them all—Angela, Ben, Jessica, Mike… And directly beneath me were the bodies of my father and mother.

Aro reached out toward me, holding an ornate hand mirror. He held it up to my face and I saw my reflection; white as snow, hard as marble, blood dripping from my mouth, and my eyes were crimson red.