Saturday Situation #1: The Rainbow at the End of the Bridge, Chapter 1 (fan fiction)

Here's a wonderful meme hosted by Lori at Pure Imagination,

and Candace at Candace's Book Blog!

There are two Mr. Linky's,

one for Giveaways that you want to promote,

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To read my fan fiction story,
"The Rainbow at the End of the Bridge",
Chapter 1,
just go HERE.



Hope you all enjoy!

Fan Fiction: "It Happened That Night", part 2

Disclaimer: The following is a fan fiction story, based on the Twilight series.  The characters belong entirely to Stephenie Meyer, and I have taken some liberties with them.  No copyright infringement is intended, either at present, or ever.


Note:  The beautiful banner for this story was created by Annamorphos, a twilighted.net member.  Thanks & kudos, Anna!!



I turned away again, and began walking through the crowd, looking for my friends Angela and Jessica. I saw that they weren't sitting at our table. Well, we had come in the same car.  I knew they wouldn't leave me stranded here. It was a long drive back to Forks. I hadn't really wanted to come with them, but Jessica had said that all the good clubs were in Port Angeles. Amazingly, Charlie had insisted that I go.

"You really should get out more, Bells," he had urged. I knew he meant well. He didn't like to see me moping around the house, thinking about Bill, the scumbag who had broken my heart just a year after I had moved to Forks. My only consolation was that he hadn't gotten any 'souvenir' from me to brag about with his male buddies.

At first, I had firmly told him that I was not at all interested.  Typically, Charlie wouldn't let the matter rest.  So I finally gave in, shrugged, and told him I would go. The joyful expression on his face had been gratifying. Dialing Jessica's number, I told her I had finally decided to brave the Port Angeles night life. Her squeal of delight nearly pierced my ear drums.

Now I looked around again, wondering where my friends were. What the heck was I thinking? I'd never find them in this mass of people. I went straight toward the table, slinging my purse around my shoulder again.

I sat down to wait, no longer in any mood to dance, or do anything else but leave. I couldn't believe the night was turning out to be a total waste of time, and it was my fault, too. I never should have done that to poor Tom.

Tapping one foot impatiently, I glanced around at the dancing crowd, hoping fruitlessly that I would see one of my friends as the dancers looped and looped around each other. I didn't   After a few minutes, I couldn't take it any longer. I had to go get some air, at least.  I rose unsteadily to my feet, dreading the need to weave through the crowd again. I never should have let Charlie convince me to go to a club. That whole scene had never been my style. As if to prove that to myself, I had botched the entire evening.

Taking a deep breath, I plunged into the crowd, determined to escape. The pressing bodies suddenly made me nauseous. The air was stifling. My urgent desire to get outside became even more urgent, as my claustrophobia kicked in. What had I been thinking? I had never liked crowds to begin with.
The music seemed to become even louder, the dancing wilder, and my claustrophobia was getting worse by the second. I wound my slow way through the dance floor, saying "excuse me" over and over again, as I stepped on too many feet.

Finally, I saw the heavy, double wooden doors in front of me. They opened as I approached, admitting a small group of people who had already been carded. I slipped through them, past the bouncers, one of whom glanced at me appreciatively. Then, I was outside.

I kept on walking until I had rounded the front corner of the building. There were some low bushes nearby, bordering the parking lot. A full moon intermittently lit up the sky with its pale gaze, as it drifted in and out of cloud banks. The night air was cool, and a refreshing contrast to the heavy, sweat-drenched atmosphere inside the club.  I walked a bit further away from the entrance, heading for a pool of shadow on the wall. I leaned against it gratefully, wondering if I should take off my heels, which were beginning to hurt my feet. Sighing, I closed my eyes.

"Hey," a soft, melodious voice whispered near me. Of course I jumped, and my heart did a little somersault.

Opening my eyes, I glanced toward my right, but for a moment saw nothing in the thick darkness. Then a tall male figure walked into a beam of moonlight, and I recognized the pale, strange man who had ordered me away. Instinct told me to bolt. My hormones perversely told me to stay.  He smiled, and my heart skittered. My breathing stopped momentarily, and then jerkily started up again. I felt the impulse to run once more, but found that I couldn't. His gorgeous face held me there, against the wall.

"Look, I'm really sorry," he said, slowly, smiling a crooked smile. He sounded so sincere. I was still wary, though.

"I know I acted like a real jerk," he continued, "but there's a very good reason for that. If we could take a little walk together, I could explain it to you. That is, if you'll let me. I really mean you no harm. Honestly."

An inner voice instantly warned me that this would not be a good idea. Besides, I had not yet recovered from his weird, rude behavior.

"I don't think I want to go anywhere with you," I retorted, surprising myself with my hostile tone.  How had I managed to talk this way to him, when it was all I could do to stop ogling him?

He ducked his head, and that mesmerizing, crooked smile of his became wider.

"I won't complain, because I know I deserve that," he chuckled.

I simply stood there, doing my best to glare at him. But I just couldn't stay mad at a living Greek god who would be willing to apologize to a mere mortal. I groaned as I realized what I was thinking. Good going, Bella! Putting a guy up on a pedestal again. But then, this guy was way more appealing than Bill ever had been. Heck, Bill who?

He turned serious. "What's the matter? Why did you groan like that? Would you like me to leave? I really, really should, you know. I've been a total idiot."

He waited for my answer as he stared anxiously at me.

I smiled. "Oh, no," I found myself whispering, "please don't leave. But I have to tell you that there's never a good reason to act like a jerk. Your story had better be good."

He smiled in return, and I had to stifle a nearly irresistible urge to stroke a lock of bronze hair that had fallen across his forehead. Down, Bella!

"Interesting...' he drawled appealingly. I loved the sound of his voice. "Then I suppose I should apologize all over again, because I really don't want you to be mad at me. That would totally ruin this moment - indeed, the whole evening."

I am very chagrined to admit that I totally melted when he said that.

"All right, you're forgiven." I sighed. It was no use fighting this… No, I was not going to bat my eyes at him.

"Then you'll take a walk with me?" His dazzling smile made me blink. Was he now trying to hypnotize me?

I nodded, and I could see him relaxing. "Sure, I'll go with you, if we don't go too far, that is. I'm with a couple of friends, and we have to get back home in one piece."

He laughed at that. "Are you one of those girls whose dad hides a shotgun behind the front door?"

I laughed in return. "Something like that."

"Well, that does complicate things, you know. I need some time to get to know you. A five-minute walk just won't do it."

I sighed nervously, although this remark sent my heart into its fluttering little dance again.

"Well," I countered, "it would be nice if I got to know you, too."

Fan Fiction: "It Happened That Night" (One-Shot), part 1



Disclaimer: The following is a fan fiction story, based on the Twilight series.  The characters belong entirely to Stephenie Meyer, and I have taken some liberties with them.  No copyright infringement is intended, either at present, or ever.

Note:  The beautiful banner for this story was created by Annamorphos, a twilighted.net member.  Thanks & kudos, Anna!!




The club was really hopping that Saturday night. The crowd was rowdier than usual, so the bouncers had their hands more than full. Lights skittered across jaded, drunken faces, in time to the wild gyrations of countless bodies. Darkness pounded with blaring sound. It felt like the guitar riffs began and ended in my stomach, along with the relentless, savage drums.

He was sitting at the bar, an untouched drink in front of him. I caught a glimpse of his face, intermittently lit by the pink and purple lights, as I tried to dance with Tom. 

I couldn't believe I had actually been asked to dance. I never engaged in any activity that would put anybody in danger of being injured. Nor did I enjoy being made fun of. Yet here I was, moving around on this packed dance floor, in Tom's capable hands. i had to admire the guy's patience. He didn't even complain once.  As he whirled me around, I caught another glimpse of that face at the bar. He was gazing indolently at the dancing crowd, but his eyes suddenly zeroed in on me. They stayed there briefly, then flitted away, and he turned his back on the dance floor. I sucked in my breath, stunned, and completely lost my concentration. I collided, hard, with Tom's chest.

"Hey, you all right?" he peered down at me, a worried look on his face, and steadied me with his big hands. I guess I must have given him the impression that I had seen a ghost. I looked up at him for a moment, embarrassed, then looked away, shaking my head slightly.

"I think I need to sit this one out. My head feels funny. Sorry, and thanks for the dance." I smiled weakly up at him. He was nice, really. He had even put up with my clumsy dance moves. But then I had seen him, and his eyes had connected with mine. Any interest I might have had in my dancing partner had abruptly evaporated.

"Sure, no problem." He shrugged, smiling. "Want me to get you a glass of water or something?"

I looked down. My cheeks were on fire. I felt sorry for the poor guy.

"No, thanks. I just need to sit down for a while...at the bar." Involuntarily, I looked in his direction, as my face continued to flame. Blushing so easily, as well as so fiercely, was the bane of my existence, along with my klutziness.
Tom glanced over at the bar, and, of course, saw him sitting there. Then he looked back at me, and frowned.

"You know that guy?" His voice had suddenly taken on an unmistakable note of hostility.

I couldn't bring my eyes up to his face. "Well, no, not really..." I stammered. Too late, I realized I should have lied about my reason for wanting to sit at the bar, instead of being taken back to my table, escorted, of course, by Tom.

"Oh, I see," he said, "you would like to get to know him, then."

I opened my mouth to say something, as I looked up at his face. It was set in stone, and he was glaring at me.

"Later, then," he said, as he took his hand off my arm. With that, he turned around, and promptly disappeared into the crowd.  Well, I couldn't blame him. Nothing could hurt a guy's ego more than having a girl he was getting to know show interest in another guy.  I bit my lower lip. Now I was feeling very guilty. Tom wasn't bad-looking, I scolded myself. And he was a nice guy, too. But...then I had seen that other guy, and, as they used to say - and maybe still do - in romance novels, time froze. That sounds very dorky, I know. And yet, that's what happened to me. Everything and everyone seemed to freeze. Even the stale, liquor-laden air froze. He became the only thing that I could see clearly, that seemed to pulse with vibrant life.

I walked slowly over to him.

As I approached, I saw him come out of his apparent reverie, and turn to watch me coming closer. His eyes were a peculiar shade of gold – warm butterscotch was the color that came to mind. They were pointedly staring at mine. I could not look away, but I did manage to take in the rest of his face. It was the most beautiful male face I had ever seen, with its strong jaw, sculpted nose, and dark, brooding eyebrows. Then I noticed how pale he looked, even in the club's semi-darkness. Shadows framed his eyes, giving him a very gloomy, even frightening air that should have repelled me immediately, but didn't.  His hair, gleaming bronze in the pulsating lights, contrasted sharply with his face. The hair was tousled, in an endearing sort of way. It invited me to comb my hands through it, in an attempt to straighten out its enchanting disarray.

Then I felt it- an unmistakable flow of blazing electricity in my gut. I had never felt such a thing before, but knew what it was. My body was automatically reacting to this living, beautiful sculpture before me.

I flowed into the seat next to him. That was incredible in itself. I never "flowed". Instead, I was always bumping into things. I did not take my eyes off his face as I crossed my legs, taking my little purse off my shoulder and laying it on the counter.

We said nothing for a few minutes, simply staring at each other. I suppose he was as surprised by my approach and helpless scrutiny as I was.

Then he spoke.

"You should get up just as quietly and quickly as you can, and leave." His voice was as beautiful as the rest of him. It held no hint of menace, and yet, I shivered.

"What...did you just say?" I laughed nervously. I couldn't possibly have heard right.

He closed his eyes, as if he were in pain, and brought one of his hands to his head, leaning on the counter. Again I noticed that he had not touched his drink. It appeared to be a Bloody Mary.

"Please!" This time it was unmistakable; he was hissing through his teeth. "You must leave, now! Don't ask any questions. Just go!"

"But why?" I was so shocked, I didn't know whether to take his blasted drink and throw it in his face, or just stomp away angrily.  Then he opened his eyes, and glared at me. A thrill of fear swept through my body, bringing me to my feet. I suddenly wanted to put as much distance between us as I could.

"All right, I'll go," I snapped, trying to hold on to some remnants of dignity. I grabbed my purse off the counter, and walked away, with the intention of not looking back.  Against my will, I did turn to look back at this strange man who had seemed so irresistible, and yet, had so rudely ordered me to leave.  He was still sitting at the bar, but now his face was in his hands, and he had completely turned away from the crowd. The bartender came by and asked him something. He shook his head vehemently.

Fan Fiction: The Rainbow at the End of the Bridge

 

Disclaimer

I own nothing related to The Twilight Saga. These are Stephenie Meyer's characters, and no copyright infringement is intended, now, or at any time in the future, near or far.

Chapter 5: The Hurtful Truth

BPOV

I could not remember coming back into the bedroom. I supposed Edward had laid me on the bed, but my mind could not recall the details. I frowned, shivering. There was something else...something that was making my skin crawl. The image was floating in front of my eyes, and refused to go away. His eyes. His face. They were the eyes and face of a ruthless killer. As he turned to me in the kitchen, he suddenly became a demon. The change was so sudden. One second, he had been laughing, casually dismissing his hangover. The next second, as he faced me, I was confronted by a totally different, totally terrifying person.

I could not forget that face. I do remember screaming, and then, I guess I must have fainted, because his features were abruptly swallowed in darkness.

Now I was awake, back on the bed. He had carried me in here... I shuddered, thankful that he had not seized the opportunity to kill me. The fact that he hadn't did puzzle me, nevertheless. Then I mentally shrugged. Who cared, anyway? My life would soon be over, regardless. What did it matter if this Edward were the one to end it?

I tried to sit up, without success. It was as if I were paralyzed, although I knew such a notion was absurd. I shivered again. I slowly realized that I didn't want to die. Not just yet. And certainly not at the hands of a demented killer. I took a rather shaky breath. Was this the real reason he had 'rescued' me from the dark recesses of that crack-infested neighborhood I had been so carelessly walking through?  Of course, this meant that I had to get away. The problem was just how I would accomplish that. At that point, I heard a slight noise, and I glanced at the door. It was slowly opening. I felt like screaming, but my throat was tightly closed. I couldn't have produced a scream even if he had rushed into the room to strangle me, right then and there.

"Bella?"

How strange that even demon killers can have such angelic voices, I thought.  I dragged in another shaky breath.

The door opened completely, and he walked in, hesitantly, his eyes on me. I was surprised to see that they were full of anxious concern. He didn't look frightening anymore, either. His face appeared to be perfectly normal, and his body language was not threatening at all.  I was very sure that I hadn't imagined what I'd seen before.

"Bella?" His voice was as hesitant as his slow entrance into the room. I couldn't take my eyes from his. I was surprised again by their worried expression.

Mr. Hyde had completely vanished, and Dr. Jekyll was back.

"Are you...all right?' His voice shook a little.

I nodded. He breathed a sigh of relief, which puzzled me even more. He had, after all, scared the living daylights out of me.

"May I sit next to you?" He had stopped about a foot away from the bed, still staring at me anxiously. My eyes widened in more surprise at his question, but I nodded again, so he stepped over to the opposite side of the bed, and sat down right next to my left side. I couldn't help flinching slightly, though. I glanced away, toward a nearby wall.

"Look at me, Bella," he whispered, but his voice had an air of authority in it. Reluctantly, I obeyed. It seemed as if I really had no will of my own. Well, I had not put much stock in my own life since I had left the juvenile detention hall. I had been feeling detached from anything and anyone whom I might encounter. Still, the fact that I seemed to have no control over my own actions annoyed me, at least a little.

"I need to tell you something, and I hope that you will believe me. Will you listen to me?"

I finally found my voice, although it came out hoarse, as if I hadn't used it for a very long time. "Yes, I will."

"Good," he said, relieved. Then he looked more deeply into my eyes; I found that I could not look away. "I will release you now, but only if you promise not to try to run away from me."

I frowned. "Release me?" I asked him, in a puzzled tone.

"Just say 'yes'", he urged, "and I will explain...well, I'll try to, anyhow."

"All right," I answered, calmly, although my heart had started pounding furiously.  He continued to stare at me for a second, and then he blinked. After that, he closed his eyes briefly, opening them again almost immediately. Then he took my left hand, tugging me into a sitting position. I flinched at his cold touch, but said nothing about it.

Amazingly, I found that I could now move, and sat up. As soon as I became aware of this, I tried to jump off the bed. But he grabbed my arms and tugged me down at once. I was imprisoned by icy manacles.

"You promised, Bella," he warned, and it came out as a hiss betwen his teeth. The hairs on the back of my neck rose, and I looked at him over my shoulder, my alarm rising.

"What are you?" I whispered, terrified, as I struggled with all of my puny strength to get free. It was useless, of course. He was far stronger than me.

"Bella, please! I don't want to hurt you!"

"But you are!" His hands were like steel claws now. I couldn't shake them off. "Please let me go!" I started to thrash around, my fear rising by the second.

"Bella...stop! Look at me." His voice had that ring of authority in it again. And again I had to obey.  I looked at him. His eyes looked deeply into mine yet again, drawing me more and more into their depths. I stopped struggling, and then...   He moved slightly toward me, his gaze now on my mouth. Pulling me gently closer, he brought his face slowly down to mine. His lips descended softly upon my own, and I was powerless to stop him.

After a couple of seconds, I was sure I didn't want to stop him. 

His lips, as bitterly cold as his hands, were unexpectedly gentle on mine. They fluttered softly, caressing. They lingered over the corners of my mouth, gently kissing, as his tongue flicked out to lick them.

I forgot everything but his mouth.

A feeling so sweet, so poignant that I had no name for it, rose within me. Not even Ryan, with all his expertise, had ever kissed me like this. Edward's lips were not demanding; instead, they sought to give. They gave the sweetest, gentlest touch of heady pleasure. Oh, I wanted those cold lips...

His tongue flicked out again, delicately tracing the contours of my lips, which parted automatically. His tongue smoothly slid inside, and began a gentle, probing massage of my mouth. I turned to face him fully as I opened my lips further, and he deepened the kiss, moving even closer to me, placing a very gentle hand behind my head, while his other hand surrounded my waist, also very gently. Yet, he was pressing me agaisnt his body.  Somehow, my arms found their way around his neck, and I pulled him even closer, too. My heart was pounding furiously in my ears, but not from fear now.  I kissed him back with every ounce of female power I possessed, and he responded eagerly, his hands beginning to massage my back, even as he whispered urgently against my lips, "Bella, Bella, Bella..."

Suddenly, he stopped. He just froze. His tongue abruptly left my mouth, and he pulled away from me. I opened my eyes and stared at him in shock. He could not seem to meet my eyes.

"What...what happened?" I cried out, feeling a strange sense of panic. "What are you doing?"

He looked at me for a moment, his eyes anguished, and shook his head, glancing away. "I don't know," he whispered. His voce sounded so sad that I felt stricken, although I couldn't understand why.

"Why in the world did you stop?" Is he actually regretting having kissed me?

He stood up abruptly. "I could hurt you," he said simply. But he stood there, looking uncertainly at the floor, as if he didn't know what to do next.

I wasn't sure what to make of all this. It seemed that my guardian angel had a real problem with personal identity. I had seen a monster a while ago, and now saw a potential boyfriend. I couldn't reconcile the two.

"Look, Bella," he said softly, as he met my eyes. "I need to explain something to you. But you will probably not believe me. And if you do, then you will run away from me, screaming. I...don't want to lose you. I felt pulled to you from the first moment I saw you. I couldn't let you die. And I promise you that you will not die at my hands."

This was getting stranger and stranger. Who was this guy, and what was he hiding? Had I found a psychopath? Well, with my luck, why not?

"I'd like you to give me some time," he went on hurriedly when I didn't reply. "I want you to see who I really am, not who I seem to be. Will you allow me to let you see my real self, Bella? I'm not really a monster, even though you might have gotten the impression that I am."

I was speechless. I continued to stare at him, my emotions at war. Then I noticed that. My emotions? I'm feeling again.

"There's just one problem," I pointed out. As my heartbeat steadied, my mind began to assert itself. "How can I possibly trust you not to try to kill me? How can I know for sure that you won't turn into...a monster once more, and this time, won't be able to stop yourself?"

He nodded somberly, obviously agreeing with my assessment of the situation.

'You're right not to trust me," he said, his voice full of pain. "You are more right than you'll ever know. If you could see into my mind, you'd realize that."

"Well, maybe you wouldn't hurt me, but the other one probably would," I pointed out, warily.

He nodded, understanding. "Yes, it can be very disconcerting to be confronted by a monstruous killer, when a minute ago you could have sworn that you were speaking to a normal person."  He paused meaningfully, and then stared at me as his expression turned smug. "And yet, you kissed me back."

I shook my head, bewildered. "I must have been out of my mind temporarily. Either that, or you put some sort of spell on me."

He chuckled at that remark. 'You're very close to the truth."

My heart skipped a beat. "I am?"

"Yes...and no."

I continued to stare at him. "Just what the heck are you? Are you on steroids or something?"

He laughed heartily at that.

"No, Bella, I can assure you I'm not, although I wish that were true. You would be able to trust me then."

I opened my mouth to reply to that, but he went on, sighing as his eyes continued to hold mine.

"Bella, you haven't told me your last name."

My heart skipped a beat once more. I wondered if he were the type who wanted to keep informed by watching the news all the time.

"Swan," I replied, a little nervously. I hoped he wouldn't suspect that this was not my real last name.

He smiled. "Bella Swan. How very appropriate. 'Beautiful Swan'. Lovely!"

I knew I was blushing. I ducked my head in embarrassment. "Thanks," I murmured.

"Hey," he said abruptly. "Let's call a truce, shall we? You eat some breakfast, and then we can sit down calmly and..."

I was alarmed all over again. "Calmly? After what happened a while ago?"

His smile widened. "You mean the kiss?"

"No," I said, my voice rising slightly as I, too, got to my feet. "I mean what happened before that."

That shook him. I could see the hurt expression reappear on his face. Then, his shoulders slumped, and his eyes glittered sadly.

"Yes, you're right, of course. Well, then, I shall have no choice but to allow you to make your escape, if you wish to go. I take it that survival has suddenly become very important to you."

His sarcastic remark hit its mark. Hadn't I been anxious to end my life? Would it really be so bad to end it in his arms, as he made love to me? An intimate image rose in my mind, an image of dark, heated passion, as those masterful lips kissed every burning inch of my body...

"Bella? Did you hear me? I said, you're free to go, if you wish to. I won't stop you."

I stared at him. "Do you really mean that?" I thought this might be a ploy. I knew something about psychopaths. I shrugged away a brief memory of Uncle Frank.

"Yes, I really do. Perhaps it would be for the best. I wanted to save you. But if would be highly ironic if I were to become the instrument of your death, instead."

I didn't know what to say.

"You can go, Bella." He sounded so sad as he spoke. "Only please don't try to do away with yourself. Promise. For me."

I nodded. Satisfied, he nodded, too, and then asked me to follow him into the huge living room. He walked over to the luxurious, black velvet couch, where a nice pair of jeans lay, carelessly thrown across a voluminous purple cushion. He picked up the jeans, and thrust a hand into one of the pockets. When he withdrew it, he was clutching a thick wad of bills, which he held out to me.

"Here, take this. You can get yourself a hotel room or something, and this will last you a few days. All I ask is that you let me know how you're doing, at least once a week."

I couldn't find anything to say.

Reaching into another pocket of the jeans, he pulled out a business card.

"Here's my cell number.  You can let me know if you need more money, and I'll..."

I stared at the money, then back at his face. "I can't accept this."

"Sure you can. You have to. Consider it a small reparation for scaring you so badly."

I shook my head. "No, Edward. I can't."

"But you will," he said, fiercely, as he reached out and put the money firmly in the right front pocket of my jeans. Then he stepped back, putting his hands in his own pockets. He didn't look at me.

"Now, go," he said, in that authoritative tone I was fast becoming familiar with.

I was too stunned to move.

"Go!" Now he looked directly into my eyes. To my astonishment, I saw that his were now completely blank, emotionless. His face, however, was terrifying.

I ran to the door and tried to open it.

"It's locked," I said over my shoulder, inexplicably feeling trapped.  Without a word, he walked over to me, unlocking the door with a swift, deft movement of his fingers, and flinging it wide open.  I hesitated even as I was about to walk through it, and out of his life for good. He stood there, waiting to close the door, staring at the wall next to it.

Anguish suddenly squeezed my heart. Was I making a mistake? And yet, that face... I shuddered.

"Thank you," I whispered, staring down at the floor. Then I turned, and stumbled out into the hallway.

The door softly clicked shut behind me.

Fan Fiction: The Rainbow at the End of the Bridge



Disclaimer: I own nothing related to the Twilight Saga. These are Stephenie Meyer's characters, and no copyright infringement is intended, now, or at any time in the future, near or far.


Chapter 4: Bloodlust

EPOV

She couldn't seem to stop screaming. I stared at her helplessly. The venom pooled in my mouth, and I knew that very soon, I would strike...

Then she fainted. I cringed. She had just made everything so much easier for me. I shifted my eyes away from her, toward the living room, where I could see my finished paintings stacked against two of the walls. Perhaps I could turn my unholy, unbearable thirst, as well as my anger, into a creative frenzy.

I was only fooling myself.

I walked over to her unconscious body, feeling the pull of her delicate, simply delicious self. I wasn't breathing yet. If I allowed myself to do so, I would inevitably sink my teeth into her.

I hesitated. My two selves, the vampire and the human I had been, and was still, even if I tried to deny it at such times, warred with each other. I wanted to kill her. I had to have her blood. It had been sheer madness to bring her here. The human in me had been taken in by her helplessness, her vulnerability, the sadness I had felt in her. The human part of me had already fallen irrevocably in love with her...and yet, the monster raged, straining to kill. I had to squash the human, in order to do it, quickly and without a qualm. The horrible feelings would come later, I knew. But now, the monster fought to break free of the slim restraint imposed by the human.

My jaw worked as I stood over her. I bent down to pick her up, staring obsessively at her jugular vein, faintly visible underneath her skin. Only vampire vision was able to pick up such a delicate detail.  I held her so carefully...as if I were afraid of breaking her. Ironic, of course. Soon she would be nothing more than another corpse to discard. My right hand was at the base of her skull. I closed my eyes, even as I prepared for my unerring, cobra-like strike. I didn't need to have my eyes open for that.

Then a vision came to me. I saw this beautiful girl, with an appropriately beautiful name, as she looked up at me, her goodness plainly visible in her eyes. She stared at me innocently, smiling, pronouncing my name in that breathy voice...

I opened my eyes. With a moan of anguish, I fell to my knees, her slight form still cradled in my arms. I wanted to kiss her, but didn't dare. I might bite her lips instead, and then, I knew I wouldn't be able to stop feeding until I was full of her blood.

I laid her gently on the floor, as the terrible thirst continued to rage through me. I threw back my head, howling like a werewolf. I had never suspected that vampires could make such a sound. The anguish was building up, so unbearable I knew I wouldn't be able to tolerate it any longer... If vampires had the ability to cry, I surely would have done it at that point.

I had to do something. I had to get away from her.

Then I remembered. How could I have forgotten? The animal blood in the fridge... I always kept at least three jars of it, in case of just such an emergency. After all, I couldn't risk going out in the daylight. And it would have looked very strange indeed, had I wrapped myself up in heavy clothing, in the middle of August.

Picking her up again, I hurriedly carried her into the bedroom, laying her on the bed. Then I ran back into the kitchen and frenziedly tore the refrigerator door open, although I was careful not to do this so forcefully that I would tear it right off the hinges. The hunger was now totally unbearable. Grabbing one of the jars filled with the blood, I twisted the lid open, and downed its contents in several gulps. I did the same with the second one. Then I stared at the third, wondering whether I should consume it, as well.  I swallowed convulsively and closed my eyes, letting the blood do its work of reviving me. It wasn't as satisfying as human blood, of course. It would have to do for now. I simply couldn't picture myself taking this innocent girl's blood. I simply couldn't bear the thought that, because of me, her heart would no longer beat, would no longer pump the life-bearing fluid throughout her body.

Sighing, I took the third jar, and emptied it, as well. Then I rinsed all three jars in the sink, and put them in the dishwasher. Now that Bella was here, I would have to make sure she never saw filled jars in the fridge. Perhaps if I hid them in the back...

I was sitting in the kitchen, my bloodlust now under control. I knew that I would soon need more blood, however.

Then I heard her scream again.

At the same moment, my acute hearing picked up a knock on the door.

I rushed into the bedroom, where I noticed her cowering on the bed. The knocking was becoming more urgent, too.  I looked at her, and she stared at me, puzzled instead of terrified. I knew then that my face no longer betrayed my true nature.

"Bella," I whispered, dismayed. She said nothing. Perhaps she was dazed.

The knocking on the door increased to a frantic pounding. "Open this door right now, Edward, or I'm calling the cops!"

I knew the voice. Jack Quinn, one of my neighbors. He would occasionally drop in for a beer, and we would chat while I painted.

"Hold on, Jack!" I called out. "Let me turn down the TV!"

"Bella," I whispered again. My voice, soft as velvet, would weave itself into her mind. Such is the power of vampire fascination. "Everything's all right. You're safe. Please believe me. I would not hurt a hair on your head. I promise. I rescued you, remember?"

She continued to stare at me, and then her gaze moved down to my T-shirt. I looked at myself, and saw fresh blood stains on it now, along with the dried paint stains.

I looked back at her, again willing her to calm down. I knew that the hypnotic effect of my eyes was working on her when I saw her visibly relax.

I hazarded a breath, and was more than relieved to find that I was pretty much under control.

"Now," I went on, as I proceeded to weave my spell, "I want you to stay here quietly, where you will wait for me. I'll shut the door, but I'll be in shortly. All right?"

She nodded, never taking her eyes from mine. I shut the door.

Breathing out another sigh, I ran over to the bathroom, where I whipped off my T-shirt threw it on the floor, and grabbed another one that was very conveniently hanging behind the door. Afterward, I ran over to the huge plasma screen on one side of the room, and grabbed the remote. In a split second, I had a zombie movie up on the screen.

Vampire speed can be so useful.

Jack pounded on the door again, and I was immediately there to open it. When I had done so, he stood there, arms crossed, glaring at me.

"What the hell's wrong with you, Edward? What's the idea, anyway?"

I smiled a little nervously. I had to get rid of him fast. I had to talk to Bella. But I couldn't arouse his suspicions.

"Sorry, man. I didn't know you were squeamish about horror movies."

He shrugged. "Well, hell, I don't particularly like them, but I guess they're better than some romantic slush flick." He peered into the apartment.

I had no choice but to wave him in.

He walked in warily, looking around. I wondered if he was expecting a skeleton to come dancing out of one of my closets. He glanced at the TV screen, where one of the zombies was running after one of the hapless humans. The human, a girl, was screaming, and I had the fleeting thought that I didn't know zombies could move that fast. So much for B movies.

Jack frowned. "You know, I could have sworn I heard a strange howl, too.'\

I shrugged, grinning. "There are a couple of werewolves in this movie, as well as zombies, and...vampires."

Suddenly, all the tension seemed to drain out of his body, and he turned to the painting I had propped up on three easels. He studied it for a couple of minutes, then grinned.

"Seems to be coming along great. When's the opening?"

I relaxed, too. My art was about the only thing that could take my mind off my hideously inhuman nature. That, and classical music, which I usually had playing when I was in the throes of creation.

"It's tentatively set for the first week of September. You're coming, right?"

"You know I am. I'm bringing Alice along, too. She just loves art - any style, modern, impressionistic, you name it."

I could feel myself becoming even paler than I usually was.

"Alice?" I mumbled. And then a picture of my Alice rose in my mind. Alice. My funny, quirky sister with the incredible visions. If I let my mind have its way, I would be able to...but there they were - my family. My chest tightened.

"Yeah. You haven't met her - we just started going steady last week. She's dying to meet you, too
I stirred uneasily. Funny choice of words he had. "Well, um, actually, Jack, I do have to get ready to go out in a while, but I wanted to get some painting in first..."

Jack barked a laugh. He was such an easy-going guy. "Sure, no problem. Got a beer I can swindle out of you?"

I grinned, and we walked into the kitchen. I didn't look at him as I gingerly opened the refrigerator door. Thankfully, it didn't seem to be broken.

I emerged from the fridge, two beers in hand. I would make sure to plant the suggestion in his mind that I had actually drunk mine. "Here you go."

I started to push him out of the kitchen. "Sorry to rush you, Jack, but I really have to get this painting finished. I promise I'll have you and...Alice over for dinner one of these nights."

He grinned. "Cool! Saves me the trouble of trying to get to first base with dinner."

I shook my head, laughing, as I walked him to the door. "You're impossible, Jack! I"ll bet she's your true love, too, right? For this month, anyway."

He shrugged as I opened the door. "Well, hey, just remember to keep the TV down, will ya? You wouldn't want Alice to get spooked when she visits, you know? And thanks for the beer."

I nodded soberly. "I totally understand. Later, guy," I closed the door practically in his face.

Then I sprinted toward the bedroom, and threw open the door.

She had remained on the bed, as I had ordered her to. She was staring unseeingly into space.

I was afraid to approach her, and bring her out of the trance. What would I say to her? A thought occurred to me, but then, I had never used the legendary vampire power of erasing a human's memory. I wasn't sure I wanted to use it on her, either.

No, I wanted her to be completely awake when I spoke with her next.

I walked thoughtfully back into the living room. My agent. I had to speak with my agent. My cell was on my spacious, sculpted coffee table. An identical one had been featured in Architectural Digest the previous week.

"Alex?" My agent wasn't far - just a couple of blocks away. "I need a huge favor from you. Yeah, I know, you'll want one of my paintings for it. No problem. Can you come over right now?"

There was a slight pause, and then he said this was a really bad time. I could guess why - my keen hearing had picked up a woman's frustrated sigh in the background.

"All right, Alex - two paintings. Just come over right away, okay?"

Having come so close to killing my beautiful Bella, I couldn't see myself causing another mysterious tourist disappearance. I didn't think I'd be able to tolerate the expression of terror on yet another human victim's face.

It was just fifteen minutes later, exactly, when I heard another knock on the door. I picked up my cell again, and dialed the number of Alex's cell. I didn't want to answer the door if it wasn't him knocking.

He picked up in two rings. "I'm standing right in front of your door," he said, obviously annoyed.

"K."

Flipping my cell shut, I put it in the pocket of my jeans. I calmly walked over to the door, and opened it.

Alexander Wainright was the only human I had ever trusted with my true nature, to a point. He did not know that I had killed humans. He always supplied me with the necessary animal blood when I requested it. As far as he knew, that was all I drank. I don't even know where he obtained the jars of blood, but they were necessary for those unfortunate times when I could not go out in the daylight without attracting attention due to my unusually heavy attire. Miami doesn't really have seasons. The temperature could hit the mid-eighties even in the middle of December, as it had the previous year. Snowbirds walking around Lincoln Road would be sure to stare at anyone who went out wearing a turtleneck sweater and gloves, not to mention a ski mask. Not even my face could be visible, of course.

The problem is that vampires sparkle in the sunlight. The Volturi would have been over here in a flash, had any stories hit the papers about a sparkling guy walking around the city.

"Okay, Edward," he said, visibly annoyed. "You need more blood, right? Jeez, why now? I was in the middle of something.,."

I waved dismissively at him. "I know, Alex, and I'm sorry. But this is a real emergency. It's not animal blood, either."

I stepped into the kitchen as I spoke, and he followed me. He gave a low whistle when I showed him the three jars in the dishwasher.

"Good God! You must have been ravenous!"

I nodded soberly. "I'm having a big problem with control today. I need you to go to a blood bank and...'

He didn't allow me to finish. "A what? Are you out of your mind?"

I sighed. I had known this wasn't going to be easy.

"A blood bank. You heard me. I need you to buy some human blood for me. Please. I'll make it really worth your while."

His eyes were wide, round. "You're really creeping me out, Edward."

I was starting to feel desperate. "Look, Alex, just name your price. I'll give you enough to buy the blood, plus a nice amount as a sort of commission, plus the two paintings. Cross my heart."

He shook his head, exasperated. "Do you think I can just waltz into a blood bank and ask to buy blood? Do you want them to lock me up in a padded white cell? You just don't buy blood, Edward! Only doctors and hospitals have access to the blood in blood banks!'

My panic rose. "But Alex, I thought you had connections." I stared at him meaningfully.

"Well, yeah, some, but..."

I grinned. "I knew I could count on you!" I clapped him on the shoulder.

He eyed me, unconvinced. "Why do you want human blood now? Isn't the animal blood satisfying you?"

I shook my head. "I guess not...at the moment. Believe me, I wouldn't ask you to do this if it weren't really necessary. You don't want me to start killing humans, do you?"

I saw him shudder, and he backed two steps away from me, eyeing me warily.

I smiled nervously. "Alex, don't worry. You're safe. But I do need the human blood right now. Please."

We stared at each other. Then he shrugged. He knew when he was beaten. I hadn't had to use my vampire powers to gain his compliance, either. Well, I never had, with Alex.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you," I said, in all sincerity. "You have no idea how much I owe you for this."

"You sure do!" he put in, dryly.

We walked back into the living room, and I went over to one of the couches, where I had carelessly flung one of my good pair of jeans - a pair I would never dream of wearing while painting. I dug in one of the pockets, and fished out a thick roll of bills. Alex didn't bat an eye. He was more than used to seeing me pull huge wads of cash out of my pockets, in his presence. I never did so in public. I wouldn't want to be in a thief's shoes, if I ever caught one trying to rob me.

I peeled five big bills out of the roll, and handed them over to Alex, who took them nonchalantly.

"Keep the change," I said, wryly.

"How soon do you need this by?" He was already tucking the bills into a one of the front pockets of his jeans.

"By nightfall tomorrow," I answered, casually.

He snorted. "You're the weirdest vampire...but what am I saying? All of you guys are..." Then he paled, his eyes huge. "Wait a minute...just how many of you weirdos are out there?"

"Just be glad it's not a human being I'm asking you to bring up here, so I can drain them dry." I didn't answer his question.

He snorted again. "Funny, Edward!" But I had not counted on his typically human inquisitiveness. "Give me an answer. How many?"

I hesitated. "Well..."

"How many?" He hissed the words between his teeth.

"We're all around you. Although at the moment, I don't know of any others besides me in this city. And I'm telling you the truth."

And I really was, in a way. There was a small coven further north, in the Hallandale area. I had always steered clear of them, though, and doubted they knew of my existence. I was absolutely sure that there were no other vampires in my area, which was South Beach. That would have been an intrusion on my territory. I was free to stroll along Ocean Drive at night, and claim my victims from the tourists perpetually thronging that popular street.

He seemed to relax a bit. "Okay. Now how about my two paintings?"

"When you return with the blood," I assured him, as I stuck my hands in my pockets. I noticed he was keeping his distance from me, but I could hardly blame him for that. "You can pick out any two you like."
He sighed. "The things I do for budding Picassos," he muttered.

"Cullen. The name is Cullen. And I've always hated Picasso. In my book, Matisse is far superior."
My agent shrugged, grinning.

I grinned right back. "Later, Alex - and thanks,"

I shut the door, feeling the huge weight I had been carrying lifted, as if by magic, from my shoulders.
Now I would have to go speak with Bella. I hoped and even prayed that I would be able to convince her not to run away. I might have been fooling myself, but I thought that dealing with a sometimes thirsty vampire would be preferable to being drowned in the uncaring waves of the bay.

I can be incredibly stupid at times.

Fan Fiction: The Rainbow at the End of the Bridge

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to the Twilight Saga. These are Stephenie Meyer's characters, and no copyright infringement is intended, now, or at any time in the future, near or far.

Chapter 3: Breakfast Time

EPOV

I could see that I had overwhelmed the poor girl. In the harsh light of reality, after a good night's rest, things could look very different. She was probably asking herself if she had acted against her better judgment in the middle of the night. But then, what she had been planning to do had most definitely not showed good judgment, either. There was no excuse for suicide. Carlisle's experience had taught me that.

With the thought of Carlisle came a wave of nostalgia. I hadn't admitted to myself how desperately I missed them all... especially Carlisle. But I also missed Alice, with her sudden, markedly urgent visions. She had seen that I would leave, and had told Carlisle. I flinched as I recalled his reaction. He had said nothing, but the pain of his sorrow had immediately struck my mind. Oh, he had tried to block his thoughts, of course. I still felt that sweeping torrent of grief that hit me like a great storm surge. I couldn't take it. So I blocked my mind, too, or at least, I tried to. I didn't quite succeed.

I had quietly slipped out into our back yard two nights later while they were entertained - or so I thought - with a game of cards. I began to run, faster and faster, until I was sure I had put enough distance between myself and the house near the woods of Forks - the house I had come to call 'home'. As I flew along, I could feel the trail of their collective sorrow following me. I screamed into the wind... it was a combination of rage as well as sorrow, for myself, for them.

I felt that I could not have done otherwise. I could not continue to live a lie. It was far better that I leave than continue to pretend something I couldn't hide. I could not bring myself to disappoint Carlisle. He had been much more of a father to me than my own biological father, whose memory had long ago begun to dim. I had not wanted to lie to Carlisle, especially when I knew that I never really could. He was never angry with me; instead, he grieved and was endlessly patient. He had been just as patient several days before my departure, even in the face of the evidence - I had killed a mountain hiker who had wandered too far off the beaten trail. After I had slaked my thirst, I felt an instant revulsion, fully understanding how Carlisle could have contemplated suicide when he was a newly-made vampire. But I could not go on trying to deny what I was. The struggle was too great. So I had given in to my monstrous nature.

In the end, I had hurt Carlisle anyway...the man who had become my father in every sense of the word.

"What's the matter?" she asked me, and I snapped out of my reverie. How long had I been standing there, holding this delicious girl's hand, wandering through my past?

I smiled, shaking my head at her. I took a deep breath, and was instantly sorry. Her enthralling scent wrapped itself around me once more, and I felt the tug of my demonic thirst. Still, I was confident that I would be able to control myself. I hoped. I had never gone this long without feeding before, but I knew I would have to be absolutely tortured by thirst before I could bring myself to end another life... I asked myself, though, if perhaps I was playing with fire. What if the life I was forced to end was Bella's? No, no, not her! Not this sweet, kind, luscious girl!

I shook my head again, but let go of her hand, pretending not to notice her little sigh of relief. I felt an urgent need to go to the bathroom. Revulsion swept through me again. The memory of that young man whispering Karen's name with his dying breath assaulted my mind. How could I have killed him so callously? What feverish devil had driven me to commit such a horrible act? Why could I not control myself, abiding by my father's ethical lifestyle? I had to get away from this girl. I was suddenly afraid that I would do the same thing to her.

I ran to the bathroom and locked myself inside, panting. The attraction of her scent had been too much for me. I had been over-confident. I leaned over the sink, holding myself up by grabbing its sides. Please...I found myself begging a God I wanted desperately to believe still cared about me, don't let me do this to her! I would not be the instrument of her death now, when I had only last night rescued her from its gaping jaws.

She knocked softly on the door. "Are you all right?" The concern in her voice was very evident. I closed my eyes against a sudden wave of guilt, mixed with a heady feeling of joy. She had suffered much in her life, I could tell, and yet, she was still capable of putting aside her own pain to care about another's. She was a precious jewel carelessly tossed aside by people who should have loved her, of that I was totally convinced.

I decided to fake loud retching. I hoped my performance would sound authentic to her ears. I went on like that for a full minute, then stopped.

"Are you sure you're all right?" She sounded really worried now.

"I won't be long," I called out, trying to inject a reassuring tone into my voice. Then I remembered to sound just a little hoarse. After all, I had supposedly just gotten rid of the contents of my stomach. "Just a little...well, I had a few drinks last night." Sometimes I found it necessary, although never pleasant, to invent little lies by the seat of my pants.

"Oh, that's too bad."

I had not misjudged her character, by the light of the moon last night. And I could not understand why that realization touched me so deeply. She was not the first nice girl I had met. However, she was the very first one whose blood I hadn't taken. At least, not yet...

"Can I get you anything?" she now asked, and I cursed softly to myself. I should have driven her to an ER and made them admit her. I shouldn't have brought her here. But wait...I was only fooling myself. I had wanted her for my own from the moment I saw her, no... smelled her. She had to be mine. It was just that I didn't know in what way, exactly, she was to be mine. Perhaps we could, well, have a relationship, as they called it nowadays. I smiled bitterly. Yes, of course we could - until she found out my true nature. Then she would run for the hills. I promised myself, then and there, that I would not pursue her if she chose to do just that.

"No, I'll be fine," I responded. I had to take control of myself. I had to stop trembling so...

After a few more minutes, I felt that I would be able to be in her presence without feeling the consuming need to sink my teeth into her delectable throat and drink until I had emptied her completely of blood. I lifted my head, and stared at my reflection in the mirror. I had to smile wryly as I remembered the silly old legends about vampires and mirrors. We had reflections, just like humans do. Perhaps it would be much better if we didn't. Then we wouldn't be able to see what monsters we were. Suddenly, I stared at myself with a new awareness. How long would my eyes remain black?It had been too long since I had fed. I wondered how long I could hold out. Was there a vampire record about this? I was glad, though, that my eyes weren't red. Yet. I knew that, when they eventually colored, I would not be able to stop myself from killing her, ethics or no ethics.

So that meant I had to get away from her so I could feed. I just didn't know how to do that without arousing the suspicion that something was radically wrong with me.

I straightened, pasting a charming smile on my face. I prayed it would fool her. Then, I slowly opened the door.

I wasn't surprised to see her standing right outside the bathroom, an anxious expression on her face. When she saw me, she squealed, but definitely not in delight.

"Oh, you look terrible!" And I thought my smile would fool her...

I nodded, careful not to breathe. There would be no problem at all, I hoped, if I simply didn't breathe. Doing so was entirely optional for vampires, of course.

"Well, er, thanks," I said dryly as I tried to walk past her. Control, Edward. You're doing fine.

Her gaze followed me into the kitchen. Then, she followed me into that room.

"But I don't understand," she went on while I quietly cursed myself. "You seemed fine a few minutes ago, when you came into the bedroom! How could you get sick so suddenly?"

Wildly, I sought some quick explanation.

"Well, you know, sometimes a hangover has a delayed reaction," I said through my teeth.

She shrugged, then sat down in a kitchen chair. "Well, I'm not much of a drinker, so I wouldn't really know."

Thank you, great God above! I had never thought of myself as a pious sort, but it now seemed appropriate to show gratitude to the Deity.

"Well, that explains it, then," I said with great relief. I immediately changed the subject. "Now, what would you like to eat? And don't tell me you're not hungry, because I won't believe you."

As if on cue, her stomach growled and I laughed. "Well, let's see...you do like scrambled eggs, right? Or would you prefer French toast? And coffee, too, of course."

She shrugged, and gave me a wan, shy smile. "Whatever you have is fine with me," she said simply, not meeting my eyes.

My teeth were still clenched.

"Look," I replied, as I rummaged through one of the cupboards. "I have plenty of food here, but don't eat much myself. So go ahead and ask for whatever you like. Your body wants to live, even if your mind thinks it doesn't."

She turned her face away from me, and I could tell she was trying to hold back a sudden rush of emotion. I felt an urge to go to her and put my arms around her, but wasn't sure that would be a wise thing to do. Well, I had been holding my breath for a while now, so perhaps it would be all right.

I was at her side before I could change my mind. I gathered her into my arms.

"Hey, it's gonna be fine," I whispered soothingly. "But go ahead and cry. You need to let your emotions out."

She did. I held her until I knew I could do so no longer. Then I forced myself to pull away, although I wanted to hold her forever...

I went back to the stove, trying not to sigh.

"So, breakfast!" I did my best to sound cheerful. "Coming right up, a gourmet meal for Bella, who will not be jumping off any bridges any time soon!"

I dove into a cabinet under the sink, and started rattling pots and pans. It might seem strange for a vampire to have such things in his kitchen, as well as real food in his refrigerator, but I had some contact with humans, from time to time. Mostly it was fellow artists or my agent, or perhaps a gallery director. I always tried to discourage such visits, but couldn't prevent them from taking place entirely. The best I could do was to make sure they took place at night. It wouldn't do to have any of my human acquaintances - I couldn't consider them friends - see the effects of sunlight on my skin. And unfortunately, there was a lot of sunlight in the city I had chosen to live in - Miami, Florida. I figured there would be plenty of tourists here. Their sudden disappearance could always be explained away somehow.

I grimaced, running my tongue over my teeth. Anger suddenly rippled through me - anger at Carlisle, for making me what I was. I vehemently wished he had let me die. It was better than being an inhuman monster. Here I was, cheerfully anticipating my next tourist feeding. Had I forgotten that I had the grisly duty of disposing of the body afterward? That was the worst part. That was when the guilt hit, along with the revulsion, the regret...

Behind me, Bella actually laughed.

"You still haven't told me your name," she said suddenly. If I had had a heartbeat, it surely would have spiked.

I finally found a frying pan, grabbed it, and pulled it out. Then I straightened, facing her. For some strange reason, I was abruptly finding it a bit hard to smile.

"Edward. Edward Cullen."

She stared at me, an expression of abject terror on her face. Then she screamed.

I didn't have to ask her why. By now, I was incredibly hungry. My facial expression must have told her very clearly what I really was.