Beta: StacyO72 and MaxandMo

Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Thank you and congratulations to Shneezles for the awesome job she did on the banner for this story. Go admire it and tweet her some love. Thanks also to StacyO72 and MaxandMo for their hard work and awesome beta skills.

If you like light and fluffy Edward and Bella stories where neither one ever has to make a hard real life choice, then know that this isn't like that. This story is loosely based on the real life events that occurred in my family's history and as such, it isn't going to always go the way you want. This story is dedicated to my late grandmother, a survivor of the 1918 Lvov Pogrom.

Tikvah means hope in Hebrew. The Jewish Pale was the region extending down between the borders of Lithuania, Russia, the Ukraine, Poland, and Austria where most Eastern European Jews lived prior to WWII. There is a list of Yiddish words with their English translations at the end of the story.

The Jewish Pale, November, 1918

I can hear the echo of explosions in the distance behind us. We are not yet far enough from the fighting. My older sister Rozaliya and I walk over the snow-covered ground as fast as we dare in the darkness. The road is not much more than a cow-path here. My boots crunch as I follow the ruts created by wagon wheels through the frozen snow.

Our home in Lvov is gone, destroyed as the conflict between the Ukrainian independence fighters and Polish nationalists ends with the Poles overrunning the town in search of dissidents. The Jews receive the worst of the blame and pay a heavy price. The Jewish Quarter was filled with the screams and cries of dying men and ravaged women. There had been several pogroms aimed to eliminate Jews in our region over the past year. The stories of their horror reached even my young ears. I knew what happened. I knew about the soldiers beating and killing and I knew about the things they did to women and even girls.

I shuddered. That could have happened to Rozaliya and me. My age and lack of development might not have stopped them from forcing their dirty goyim schmeckels inside me. Somehow, Rozaliya and I escaped the town but we now have nothing more than the clothes on our backs. We have no idea where our mother and our little brother are or if they are still alive. I know my father is safe in the United States, where he has been for the past five years. We were to join him but then the Great War began and we were stranded.

Another bomb explodes. I look back and see its thin pale line of light on the dark horizon. We continue to travel away from the noises, but there still may be danger ahead.

"Why are we going this way?" I again ask my sister. Rozaliya turns. The light from the waning moon reflects dimly on the surrounding snow-covered fields but even in such poor illumination, I can see how beautiful she is. The blond hair peeking out from beneath her babushka shines despite the darkness. Rozaliya and I are opposites. She is the blond blued-eyed beauty and I am the dark haired, dark-eyed plain girl. At sixteen, Rozaliya has developed soft womanly curves, while my twelve year old body remains stubbornly straight and flat. I used to wonder if I would look like her at sixteen. Would I ever grow breasts and hips like hers, and would the boys in town look at me the way they do her? Several shadkhen had approached my mother to arrange a match but she had resisted. She wanted Rozaliya to come to America with us and be married there. Now I wonder if we will survive long enough for me to see another birthday, let alone my sister's wedding.

"Because the only chance we have of getting to America is to get to Poland."

Rozaliya speaks in a sharp, concise tone. She wants to keep moving and my talking is slowing us down.

"But isn't Poland the enemy?" I ask, genuinely confused. I can't keep all the wars straight in my head.

"Last year's treaty between the Germans and Russians Bolsheviks was supposed to give independence to the Ukraine but the treaty just signed in Paris overturned it so Poland, which does what Germany tells it to do, invaded the Ukraine. We tried to oust the Polish Army but failed. The Jews were on the losing side but once we get over the border, no one will know we're Ukrainian Jews. They can't tell us apart from the Polish and Russian Jews. Mama and I talked about it last night when the bombing started. We are to meet in the main synagogue in the Warsaw ghetto. Once we are together again we can get forged papers. Now that the Great War is over, we can secure passage on a boat to America."

"Don't we need money to get papers?"

"Bella, enough! We'll worry about that when the time comes." Rozaliya is angry now.

We walk in silence for a while until another bomb explodes.

"If the Poles won, then why are they still fighting?"

Rozaliya sighs. I know I am wearing her patience thin. "It's now about revenge. They blame the Jews for all their problems and they want to make us suffer."

"What will happen if they catch us before we get over the border?" I ask trembling. The memories of the shrieks of the women being raped and beaten in the streets and alleys fill my head. I had witnessed horrid things that no girl should see.

Rozaliya stops and grabs me by the shoulders. "Bella! Stop! We are already a long way from home. If we keep at this pace we can be in Poland by the sunrise and they will never know we're from Lvov."

She looks into my eyes, and I feel my backbone straighten as I draw strength from her. Rozaliya won't fail us. I nod and we begin walking again, covering mile after mile in the frozen night. The explosions have long since been replaced by the quiet crunch of snow as we walk forever. The road rises with the crest of a small hill and we realize our mistake seconds after the voice calls out.

"Halt!"

I can feel the eyes on us as we are surrounded by soldiers. Rozaliya pushes me behind her, shielding me from their drawn guns. I can tell they are German, but my command of the language is not as good as my sister's. Rozaliya is so smart she can easily switch between Russian, Yiddish, Polish, and German and she does so now, smoothly asking in fluent German to please allow us to pass.

"Fraulein, where are you going at such a late hour?" A tall, blond officer steps in front of us and towers over Rozaliya.

Rozaliya answers him, I think she says that we are returning from a sickbed and our farm is only a few miles away. I understand most of it but a few words escape my ears.

The officer turns his attention to me. He is handsome but his features are cold, as if he were made from stone. I am afraid to raise my eyes.

"Is this true?" He asks.

I nod "Ja."

"Ja…" He repeats and laughs, as the other soldiers, there are four, laugh with him.

He glances back at Rozaliya and in a shocking motion reaches into the top of her coat, plunging his hand in-between her breasts. He pulls out the gold necklace she wears from under her clothing. The small six pointed star on the chain shines brightly against the pale skin of his hand.

"Juden." His eyes flick up from his hand to her face. I don't quite understand the look he gives her. He seems amused, but there is something dark and sinister about the way his eyes wander over her body. I grip Rozaliya's hand. He knows we are Jews and we are coming from the direction of the conflict. If we are lucky, they will just shoot us. If we are not, what happened to those women in the alley will happen to us. I tremble with fear.

Rozaliya speaks rapidly in German. I catch words like "travel" and I know she says something about "safety" and "sister". She and the officer speak in low voices, back and forth. I desperately try to understand but their conversation is far beyond my simple language skills. Finally, the officer smiles and I have never seen an expression so frightening. There is no mirth, no warmth. Without taking his eyes from Rozaliya, he orders his soldiers back to their post. They retreat to a small farmhouse just a few yards from the road.

"What is your name, Fraulein?"

"Rozaliya Schwanstein and this is my sister Bella."

He glances at me before standing up at attention. "I am Captain Fritzroy Konig, but you may call me Roy, Rozaliya."

Konig, I know that word, it means King. He says something else about warming up in the farmhouse and makes a sweeping gesture with his arm to indicate we should walk that way. He follows us closely.

I whisper in Yiddish. "What's happening?"

Rozaliya reassures me "It will be fine. The captain will help us get to Poland."

I'm shocked, afraid to believe that we will survive this "Why?"

Rozaliya doesn't answer the question. "It will be fine," she repeats as we enter the small house.

There is a roaring fire in the hearth and the soldiers are gathered around. The captain barks some orders at them and I am led to a small table and given food. I glance up at Rozaliya , knowing that it's forbidden to eat goyim food. Rozaliya shakes her head slightly, and I know I'm not to argue.

The captain's laugh echoes loudly in the small room. "Don't worry Fraulein, it's just bread and potatoes. No pork. My men need the meat to stay strong, we wouldn't share it even if you did eat pig. You will eat then you may sleep there," he points to a row of small cots lined up against the wall. "You have nothing to fear from my men. They will not bother with a little child like you."

He turns and takes Rozaliya by the elbow, leading her out of the room towards the single staircase.

"Rozaliya?" My voice rises in fear. I don't want us to be separated.

"It's fine," she says without emotion or inflection. "I'll be fine and they won't bother you. I have the Captain's word."

With that she turns and walks up the stairs and I know my sister has sacrificed her honor to save our lives.

Rochester, New York, United States, 1925

"This is meshugass," Rosalie tosses her head back in anger as she looks around the bare walls of the doctor's office waiting room. Her short bobbed hair is mostly hidden beneath her bright red hat. We are wearing our best dresses, hats, and silk stockings. Our hands are encompassed by short silk white gloves, as befitting for proper American girls.

"I thought we were only supposed to speak English now, Rose?" I tease, trying to sound light despite the reasons why we are sitting in these chairs.

"Fine, I'll say it in English too. This is crazy. How many appointments do we need to have before these doctors finally figure out there's nothing wrong with me? This fancy Doctor Cullen will say the same thing as the others. It is always the same, the first appointment they assure us they will find out what is making me sick. Then, the second they all say 'It is beyond the scope of my practice, but I know of a specialist…' Watch, today is the second appointment and today we will walk out with another doctor's name. So I've lost a little weight, it's the fashion now to be thin. Look at you, Bella. You have the perfect flapper figure- maybe I just want to fit in like you."

I roll my eyes at her ridiculous comments as I reply in Yiddish. "Now who is meshugeneh? We should be grateful that such a respected doctor keeps evening hours so you don't have to miss work. Besides, I don't care what the fashion magazines say, big breasts and a round tuchis are never out of style."

Even though no one but Rose and our mother can understand me, I still blush as though Doctor Cullen could hear me through the office walls and knew I was saying breasts and ass in my native tongue.

"Bella!"

Mama admonishes me just by saying my name. I bow my head and apologize for my unladylike comment. I know how worried she is. Mama is a survivor, but she has already lost my younger brother and my father and I don't know how she will react if something is really wrong with Rosalie. My younger brother, who was only seven, became sick during the flight from Lvov and by the time they made it to Warsaw, his cold had turned to pneumonia. He is buried in the Jewish cemetery outside the city. We left his small body behind in that grave as we finally began our long journey to the United States.

My mother wrote to my father to let him know when we would arrive but there was no one to claim us when we landed at Ellis Island. The United States was in the waning days of the Influenza epidemic and all ships faced quarantine until the passengers could prove they were healthy. It took us a week before we were allowed to leave the island. When we finally found the lower East Side apartment where my father lived, we discovered it emptied of all my father's belongings and another family living there. He had died of Influenza the previous month.

"Miss Swan, the doctor will see you now."

"Mama." My mother sometimes forgets that our name is no longer Schwanstein. Papa had Americanized it when he came from the Old Country and we kept the change. We're so grateful to be in a place where we don't live in constant fear of death that we want to assimilate any way we can. I help our mother up, aware that she's almost as frail as Rosalie. Life has been hard the past six years. Mama had hated New York City so we stayed only until the worst of the epidemic was over. We moved to the small city of Rochester in upstate New York. She and Rose work long hours as seamstresses in a local shop that caters to wealthier women.

Mama and I follow Rose into Doctor Cullen's spacious office. The doctor puts down his steaming cup of tea and rises to shake our hands and I hear my mother's slight intake of breath. I understand her reaction although I am a bit surprised that Mama would notice the doctor the way Rosalie and I have. Doctor Cullen is both very young and very handsome. All of the nursing students in my school are enamored. I don't think even Rudy Valentino would get the reaction Doctor Cullen receives when he makes his rounds at the hospital. However, I understand that he is happily married, much to the consternation of the entire female population of greater Rochester.

Rose gives me a look and I know she's thinking the same thing I am. He's the best looking shagetz you've ever seen, isn't he?

I hear a slight cough and notice that the doctor's assistant is also here.

"Mrs. Swan, this is my younger brother Edward. He's studying medicine at the university and serves as my assistant here when he's not attending classes."

Edward has an amused smile on his face, which is much better than the first time we met a few weeks ago. That time, he had such a dark scowl and rude manner that I was sure I had never known a more unpleasant man. Now though, I can't help but notice that he's also very handsome, even more so than Doctor Cullen. While the doctor has matinee idol looks to rival even Valentino's, his brother's features are more like those of a classic Greek statue. The only trait they share is their unusual golden brown eyes, which glimmer like gemstones. Edward's hair is an odd color between brown and red, like a tarnished penny. It falls over his forehead in a fashion that was popular when we first came to this country but has since been replaced by a slick, combed back look. I prefer the more natural style so I like his messy hair.

Edward is also holding a cup of tea and he puts it down in order to shake Mama's hand. They exchange pleasantries as well as Mama is able since her English is not fluent. I raise an eyebrow to Rose, as if to say, he's handsome too. She shrugs, which I take to mean, he's alright but not like his brother. I look over at the younger man and I'm sure I see a look of hurt or perhaps disappointment pass briefly over his face but then it's gone. I must have imagined it.

We take our seats in front of the doctor's large ornate mahogany desk. I absentmindedly touch the carving on the leg in front of me while he first offers us tea, which we politely refuse, then begins to speak. I haven't said it aloud but I agree with Rose. None of these doctors can find anything wrong, which is why the doctor's next words are such a shock.

"The tests are conclusive. I am sorry Miss Swan. The cancer is advanced. I recommend moving to a sanitarium outside the city. It is an excellent facility and they will do their utmost to provide comfort during your stay there."

I hear the words but I can't seem to wrap my mind around them. I catch only pieces of the conversation between Dr. Cullen and my family. "Extremely rare" "Bone cancer" "metastasize": the words float in the air around me. He uses terms like "alleviate" and "palliative", terms that I am all too familiar with since I've begun my training as a nurse, terms that I know do not bode well. I am painfully aware that Rosalie's diagnosis doesn't contain the words "cure" or "recovery".

How can my resilient sister die? She saved us both from the Lvov pogrom, from the German soldiers, from the journey to get to Warsaw. She was the strong one when our brother died and again when we arrived to find our father already dead and buried in a strange new country. It was Rosalie who scrimped and saved to pay for my education with the jobs that she found for herself and my mother.

My eyes focus on my mother, who has already aged so much in the past few years. How would she survive losing Rosalie? How is this fair? Mama still doesn't know about the German soldier. Rosalie has resisted Mama's efforts to find her a suitable husband, fearing that any man who knew she was not a virgin would embarrass and disgrace her. I had hoped that perhaps she would meet someone understanding and then she could marry. Rosalie would make such a wonderful mother. Now I know that will never happen.

It takes a moment, but then I realize that Dr. Cullen and Mama are discussing the details of Rosalie's case in Russian. This temporary shock brings me back to the present. Dr. Cullen's Russian is flawless, even if some of his phrasing is a bit old fashioned and formal, like I imagine a member of the old Tsar's court would speak. I look over to Rosalie and see the same blank look on her face that I'm sure must be on mine. I reach out and take Rose's hand, anchoring us both. She squeezes mine and our eyes meet. I silently vow to be strong for her this time. I will be the one who will care for her and for our mother. Our hands feel charged, as though her emotional strength is pouring out of her body and into mine. I can do this. I can shoulder the burdens and do whatever is needed to give Rosalie peace and comfort during the time she has left.

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"Pardon me, Miss Swan?" I keep my voice soft and my teeth covered as I stand a safe distance away from the petite brunette dressed in the gray uniform and white hat of a nursing student. I have made considerable progress in my efforts to control the bloodlust I feel when I'm in her presence. Carlisle's suggestions about hunting beforehand, controlling my breathing, and immersing myself in her scent worked far more than either of us could have predicted. I feel like a cad for sneaking into her locker and stealing her scarf but it's an infinitely better alternative than killing her. Still, without the ability to read her thoughts, I'm never sure what she'll do next and that unpredictability leaves me incredibly uncomfortable. Although I have existed in this unlife for less than a decade, just a blink of an eye for an immortal being, I already rely heavily on my second sight to provide understanding of the humans I encounter. She turns and smiles brightly, her brown eyes looking at me expectantly.

"Oh hello, Mister Cullen. Are you making rounds with Doctor Cullen again today? Do you need assistance?"

The now familiar sensation of jittery excitement shoots through my belly. I've tried to deny my amorous feelings for Miss Swan as they cannot portend to anything but more problems. Yet, when I discovered she was fulfilling her practical requirements at the same hospital where Carlisle works, I suddenly found myself unable to stay away. Every evening I seek out Miss Swan after Carlisle and I finish the daily visits to his patients. Our polite conversations grow just a bit longer each night as the topics expand from the weather to hospital gossip and most recently, our common interests in music and books. I crave our time together and in my desperation for more I've resorted to a despicable ruse of needing to speak to her about her sister's fatal illness.

"No thank you, we've already finished our rounds. But, I was wondering if perhaps I could discuss your sister's case with you? We could get a cup of tea at the café."

Miss Swan's posture straightens, as if she were mentally preparing herself to shoulder a heavy burden on her delicate frame.

"Yes, of course. I'm due for my dinner break. Let me just inform the head nurse."

She hurries off to the nurses' station. I silently berate myself again for sinking so low. I have no news about the elder Miss Swan's condition. Carlisle could smell her cancer the moment he met her but of course, he had to go through the pretense of tests. Her disease is advanced. The cancer has already metastasized to her lungs. I can clearly hear it when she breathes. It will only be a matter of time before it invades her other organs. Carlisle believes she has no more than six months to live.

Normally, I'm able to compartmentalize such information. After all, humans are such fragile creatures. If it isn't an illness, it's an accident, or old age, or even a vampire. However, I've read the minds of both Rosalie Swan and her mother and seen the horrible memories of what they've already endured in their short lives. Try as I might to block her thoughts, I saw the memories of the haughty soldier who roughly used the elder Miss Swan's body in exchange for allowing her and her sister to escape to Poland. It hardly seems fair that after such pain and sacrifice, fate denies the elder Miss Swan even the thinnest thread of happiness. She'll never experience the joys of marriage and motherhood she so desired.

"Mister Cullen? I'm free to go."

I startle for perhaps the first time since waking to this existence. Miss Swan's silent mind combined with the weight of my own thoughts has allowed her to sneak up on me.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," she giggles, immediately covering her mouth.

"It's not as though my heart stopped," I sheepishly grin at my little inside joke and impulsively move her hand away from her mouth.

"You have a beautiful smile, you shouldn't cover it up."

The skin on her cheeks turns a deep shade of crimson. I instinctively take a step back so I can recover my manners and escort her to the cafe.

A few minutes later we are ensconced at a table in the rear of the cafe. I find any excuse I can to learn more about her. I even ask her why she brings her own cup, though I know the answer. It's because she wants to avoid using china that may have been used at a meal that combined milk and meat- which is not kosher. I'm not sure if I knew anyone of the Jewish faith before I was turned, my memories are vague. Since meeting the Swans, I have begun studying the history and customs of their religion. It's helped a great deal in understanding why Miss Swan does or says certain things since I've yet to discover a way to read her mind. I listen intently as she explains the custom. I ask question after question but it's her habit to try to answer as succinctly as possible. Her sister and mother do the same. I know, thanks to their thoughts, that it's from years of fearing persecution. They try to blend as seamlessly as they can into American culture, knowing that as Jews, they will always be outsiders. In a way, it's very much like how Carlisle, Esme, and I live.

"So, what is it you would like to discuss about Rosalie?" Miss Swan asks as she stirs her tea.

I've had time to formulate a plan and I'm pleased with it, because it means I can listen to Miss Swan rather than the reverse.

"Well, I was wondering if you, that is, all three of you, had decided when Miss Swan will enter the sanitarium?"

Her dark eyes grow sad. She nods as one hand snakes up to encircle her neck in a nervous gesture.

"We did talk and Rosalie won't go until there's no choice. With my schooling, I should be able to care for her for quite some time at home. We want to stay together as long as possible."

I'm not surprised. I already knew this was their intention.

"You don't mind that it will be difficult to care for her at home, Miss Swan?"

"No, Rosalie will never be a burden. I owe her so much. You have no idea, Mister Cullen."

Now comes the part I am most nervous about. I fiddle with the tea cup that serves as my prop.

"If you permit me, Miss Swan, I'd be willing to aid you in administering medicine and checking her vitals. I could stop by your home on my way to the hospital. Rochester is such a small city, I'm sure it won't be out of my way."

Miss Swan's eyes widen in surprise. "Mister Cullen, I'd certainly appreciate the help but you must be so busy with your studies and your work with Doctor Cullen. I couldn't impose upon your time."

"Miss Swan, I'd be honored to help you and I wouldn't have asked if I couldn't devote the time. Your sister deserves the best care."

Miss Swan considers my words for a long moment before finally giving her assent. "In that case, perhaps you could stop by tomorrow evening around five o'clock?"

I nod, happy that the shorter winter months mean the sky will already be dark. "Yes, that's perfect." I hesitate again, knowing that I'm pushing my luck with my next request. "Miss Swan, since we'll be working in your home, perhaps you'll find it acceptable to call me Edward instead of Mister Cullen?"

She immediately blushes, her skin glowing under the artificial lights of the cafe. She considers my request as she sips her tea. I'd give anything to see into her mind at this moment.

"Well, it's a bit unusual. I'm not sure my mother would approve so perhaps when it's just the two of us, it'd be alright, Edward?" The sound of my name on her lips, even though it is barely a whisper, reverberates through me.

"But…"

I freeze, afraid she is changing her mind.

"Only if you call me Bella."

I relax. My smile is wide as I forget to hide my teeth. "Of course, Bella, I'm honored."

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I park my Pierce-Arrow Model 33 Runabout a block away from the Swan residence. The past three months have been the greatest of my existence and that's due entirely to Miss Bella Swan. She's the most beautiful, most flawless creature I've ever known. The idea that I might have once hurt her is now inconceivable. While the scent of her blood is intoxicating, my constant exposure to it, plus my moral fortitude, gives me the strength to resist my bloodlust. I've never drank from a human, not even in that first year after the change.

I admit, when her mouth-watering scent first hit me, I almost attacked her. If not for Carlisle quickly removing me to Esme's care, I'm not sure if I would've been able to stop myself. All humans smell delectable but this girl's scent was beyond compare. My throat still burns but the thirst is bearable. It becomes easier each night I spend at the hospital, assisting Carlisle. I'm careful to not be around patients with open wounds, after all there's no point in being foolish. Instead, I've begun to focus on research and enjoy my time in the lab. The silent wall that surrounds Bella's mind continues to thwart me but I'm always aware of where Bella is in the hospital thanks to the thoughts of others around her.

Bella and I spend two hours caring for Rosalie every weekday evening, except Fridays, when their mother comes home early for the Sabbath. However, this will be the last night we'll care for her at home. Rosalie's health has diminished and she's moving to the sanitarium tomorrow. It's an excellent facility, privately owned. I'm not sure how Bella's mother can afford it. I tried to discreetly ask Bella if she was in need of money but she assured me that everything was arranged.

I will miss these evenings together. Rosalie sleeps so much now that once she has been given her medicine, I have Bella to myself for almost the entire time and then again during the drive to the hospital. We always leave for our twelve hour nightshift just before her mother arrives home. The icy winter air in the car allows for me to seem perfectly normal despite my naturally cold skin. I pile her under auto blankets while I both curse and congratulate myself for not ordering an auto heater when I bought this car last year. At the time, the famously fast Dual-Valve Six engine seemed far more important than heat. Who knew I would be driving with a human next to me? When Bella's shift ends, I drive her back home before the sun is completely risen in the sky and before her mother awakens to discover that her daughter is being escorted around town by me. I sometimes wonder which would be more horrifying for her – that a vampire is in love with her daughter, or that a non-Jewish vampire is in love with her daughter.

I've yet to declare myself to Bella but I am sure she feels the same way about me. Even without reading her mind, I'm aware of the other signs- the way she blushes around me, the way her heart beats faster when I'm near, the way she looks at me. For the past week, when I've helped her out of the automobile, instead of letting go of her gloved hand, I've held it for the entire time we were outside. It was under the premise that there may be ice on the ground and I didn't want her to fall. Still, she hasn't pulled away, and I'm sure she knew there was no ice anywhere. I've been thinking of our future recently. It's apparent to me that Bella is my true love, my mate to use the vampire term, but I'd never condemn her to this life. The thought of my beautiful innocent girl facing first the pain of transformation, then the curse of the constant thirst horrifies me. Then there's the whole question of whether vampires have souls. While Jews aren't as concrete as Christians about the afterlife, they do believe there is something and they believe in souls. I can't risk Bella losing hers for any reason. It was different for Carlisle and Esme, since she was near death.

I've considered that perhaps Bella and I could be together without her being changed. I haven't quite resolved the issue of how to keep up the charade of being human with her if we were married. I can't imagine confessing my true nature without her fearing me, or worse, rejecting me. If I were a human, my biggest obstacle to a future with Bella would be the difference of our religions. How easy it is to resolve that issue. Today, when we are alone in the car, I'm going to ask her what she thinks of the idea of me converting to Judaism. I haven't discussed this idea with Carlisle. The son of a Reformation preacher may not approve of me rejecting his father's religion, even if it is temporary, just for a few decades. In truth, I haven't discussed any of this with Carlisle. He's aware that I am helping with Rosalie Swan's care but he doesn't know how much time Bella and I have spent together or that I'm deeply in love with her. I know I'm a coward for not telling him. The fear that he'll disapprove and forbid me from spending time with Bella is foolish. Even though I'm physically only seventeen, I have many more years on this Earth and I'm no longer the naïve boy I was before I was turned. My heart's desire is to be Bella's husband, if she'll have me. I know what Bella would expect from a normal marriage. I've given some thought to how a physical relationship between a vampire and a human might work. Although I've never engaged in that sort of thing, as a mind-reader, I'm very aware of the mechanics of intercourse. From the moment I returned to life among humans, I learned how much time the males spent thinking about females and the various sexual acts they'd like to commit with them. Since the recent dawn of the Jazz Age, I've discovered more and more unmarried women also thinking about sex.

Just last week when I was making hospital rounds with Carlisle, one of the nurses was picturing me and her in flagrante delicto. Her thoughts were coarse and vulgar. However, when I imagined that it was Bella having those thoughts instead of Nurse Mallory, they were suddenly far more appealing. I doubt Bella would even know about such things, yet at the same time, I find myself wondering and even hoping that she does think that way about me. The idea awakened feelings of arousal and desire in me that I've never before experienced. I began paying more attention to the thoughts of mature women, those that were familiar with carnal pleasures. I learned what they liked and what they didn't. I gleaned every bit of information I could so that when the day arrives I'll be properly prepared for our marriage bed. One night, I even parked across the street from Rochester's one known brothel, strictly in the interest of research. The only thing I learned though is that most men can't tell a real climax from a fake one. Even without prior experience or the ability to read her mind, I think I could satisfy Bella better than those men could satisfy seasoned prostitutes. I know I'll have to be very careful about my strength. I could easily hurt Bella if I lost control but I don't really believe that's possible. I've come back full circle to the idea that I should really talk to Carlisle. He's the only other male vampire I know and thus, he's the best resource I have. But I'm getting far ahead of myself. I need to first declare my intentions, promise to convert, and then ask her to marry me. Once all of those things are accomplished, I'll consider the benefits of such a union. Now, I needed to see my beloved. I exit the car and walk toward her front door.

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I pace nervously as I wait for Edward to arrive. So much has happened today, I can barely wrap my head around everything. We have prepared Rosalie as much as possible for her move to the sanitarium tomorrow. I glance over to the small bedroom where my sister lies sleeping fitfully. She is kept heavily medicated; it's the only way she can bear the constant pain and discomfort. Doctor Cullen says the cancer is in her lungs and liver. She won't survive much longer. Rose is just a shadow of her former self. I can't help but notice how her skin clings to her bones when I help her wash. She looks so small now. There's a knock at the door and even though I am expecting him, I jump. I hate what I must do but this situation is my own fault. I should never have let things get so far with Edward. I knew it could not end well. I smooth down the pleats of my knee length navy skirt as I hurry to open the door. I smile despite myself. He is so handsome and kind, perfect in every way. He takes my hand and kisses it as he enters, causing me to blush. He will do the same to Rosalie when he greets her, although this past week, I'm not sure if she is even aware of his presence. Edward immediately notices that I'm not wearing my nursing student's uniform but I avoid his questions. We can talk once Rosalie is settled. He removes his hat and overcoat, revealing a perfectly tailored gray pinstripe suit with matching striped tie, I try not to sigh at the sight. He is so breathtaking. Edward enters Rosalie's room and attends to her. Rosalie commands all our focus until we are both sure she is resting more comfortably. I fuss with a lock of her golden blond hair, which has grown long again. When she felt better, she would joke that she didn't want to die with her hair bobbed in case she sees our father in the next life and he doesn't recognize her.

Edward and I finally retire to the parlor. Most nights, this is our special time when we talk and listen to music on my mother's second-hand Victrola. He likes to bring me new recordings- Rachmaninoff, Kreisler, Victor Herbert and his orchestra. I've learned so much about music from him, like the difference between the much superior electric recording method versus the acoustical recording method. Edward is very musical, he can play piano, although I've yet to hear him. He's promised to play for me someday, but I know now that will never happen.

"Bella, you're so quiet tonight. I know you're upset about Rosalie but we discussed this. She's much too sick to stay here anymore." Edward's soft velvet voice breaks through the haze of my thoughts. "And why aren't you wearing your uniform? Are you not going to the hospital?"

I try to smile but I'm so sad; it doesn't feel right. I draw strength from my memories of Rose. I'm doing what needs to be done. This is for her and for Mama.

"Edward, I have news," I begin.

He raises his eyebrows and I'm captivated by his unusual gold eyes. I force myself to look away and continue before I lose my nerve.

"Now that Rosalie is entering the sanitarium, my mother has decided that it is time for me to move forward with my own life. She surprised me this morning with the news that she has seen a shadkhen, a matchmaker, and arranged for me to marry. It is a good match. Michael Newton, his family used to be called Neinberg in the old country. They own a chain of department stores so they are very wealthy and I'll never have to worry about anything."

Edward says nothing. He's so still and silent. I nervously ramble on.

"The biggest surprise is that my mother has found a match for herself as well: a widower with two teenage children by the name of Philip Dwyer. They will not marry for a while, not until after Rosalie …"

I trail off. There is still no reaction. Edward just sits there like a statue. In a way, this is worse than if he had yelled and shown emotion. I have hurt him and that's something I never wanted to do.

"But Mister Newton and I are to be married next month. Of course, I will no longer attend nursing school and naturally, I won't need to work at the hospital. I gave my notice today which is why I'm not wearing my uniform." I pause but still nothing.

"Edward? Please, say something?"

I hesitate before I reach out and place my hand on his arm. I can feel the cold of his skin even though he is wearing a suit jacket. I pull my hand back but he reaches out and takes hold of it. His movements are so fast that I'm startled. His hand feels like ice as he gently caresses mine.

"You're always so warm," he begins. I wait for him to continue. "So different from me. I'm always cold- poor circulation."

His soft laugh is hollow. Edward takes my chin in his other hand. I reluctantly raise my eyes to meet his. His sorrow pierces through me.

"You can't possibly want to marry this man. You don't even know him let alone love him."

I sigh. I knew he wouldn't understand. I never should have agreed for him to help me with Rose or to drive me back and forth.

"This is the way it is done for us Edward. I am sorry if perhaps I let you believe that we could ever be more. In my culture, the parents always choose their children's spouses."

Edward scoffs. "So, all this time I should have been courting your mother instead of you?"

I shake my head. "This is my fault. I let this get too far. It was improper for us to spend so much time together un-chaperoned. My mother would never allow this if she knew."

"Why? Is it simply because I'm not Jewish? If that's the only reason, then I'll convert. I've been studying Hebrew and I've read the Torah as well as the Talmud. I know what needs to be done."

It is my turn to be shocked into silence. I can't imagine any gentile man ever wanting to convert to Judaism. Part of me wants to ask him if he really understands exactly what is required from a man to convert. Does he know the rules about circumcision? Was he already circumcised? I know from working in the hospital that it is considered a class marker. Children of the wealthy are born in hospitals and are therefore circumcised, as the doctors recommend. However, middle class and poor children are born at home so they are not. Before I can think of a polite way to ask such a question, Edward slides off his chair and kneels in front of me, taking my hand in his.

"Bella, with everything that I am, I love you. I will do anything for you. Please, don't agree to an arranged marriage. Please! Allow me to speak to your mother. I can provide for you just as well as some department store heir. I'm wealthy. I'm going to be a doctor. I'll convert. There's nothing he can give you that I can't. Marry me, Bella."

I stare at our entwined fingers. Mine are flushed pink, almost red from where they touch his long fingers, which are cold, pale and white, like stone. Usually, we are both wearing gloves when we hold hands. His skin feels smooth and hard, it doesn't give like mine. Something dark and frightening threatens to rise from my subconscious but I push it back down in my mind. There's nothing strange about him. It's just because I already know Edward and I are so different. My thoughts swirl in confusion. How could this ever work? I want it, though. As soon as he says the words, the hope swells through me. I want it more than anything else I've ever desired. But it can't be. I pull my hand away.

"Edward, even if you were to do all those crazy things, my hand is still not mine to give," I say gently. "It doesn't matter. I can't marry someone not chosen for me. My mother and the Newtons have already drawn up the terms of the Ketubah, the marriage contract. To back out now, it would be a shanda and it would affect my mother's marriage to Mister Dwyer. It is doubtful anyone of good standing in our community would accept us if we disgrace ourselves by breaking the agreement."

Edward rises swiftly, surprising me. He grasps both of my hands in his as his eyes bore into mine. His expression is so intense, my stomach twists and churns. I can't break his gaze. "Can you tell me that you don't love me?" he asks, his voice full of emotion.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. "I do love you…."

Before I can finish my sentence, Edward's mouth closes over mine. His lips are as cold and hard as the rest of him, yet they move softly. I've never kissed anyone before but I remember asking Rose about it once. She told me to just do what he does so I mimic his movements. My whole world slows down. I forget Rose is sleeping in the next room. I forget about Mama coming home soon, and I forget the arrangement with the Newtons. I forget about everything except the way Edward's mouth feels, the way his lips caress my own. His entire body is cold, I can feel it wherever we touch, yet my body flushes with heat enough to warm us both. I can almost feel the blood surging through my veins along with the hope that perhaps there is a way to make this happen. Edward releases my hands and wraps his arms around me. I automatically reach for his shoulders and work one hand into his soft hair. I should stop this, I know it's only going to hurt us both even more. Edward closes what little space there is between our bodies as he kisses me over and over. Finally we break apart. I can feel his lips pepper the skin on my neck with small kisses as he traces a line from my ear to my jaw. I run my hands up and down his chest repeatedly as I try to catch my breath but then notice something odd.

"Edward, my heart is pounding so hard yet I can't even feel yours," I pant breathlessly.

Another alarm bell goes off in my head but I ignore it again

Edward takes a step back and looks down at me with such emotion. He takes my hand from over his heart and holds it between both of his. "Trust me, my love, my heart is there and it belongs only to you. Your mother will be home within the hour; I can either wait for her or leave and return once she arrives. Which do you think is best?" he asks, his beautiful face glowing with happiness.

I stare down at my shoes, hating myself for what I must say. There is no choice.

"Edward, this would never work. To convert is a very grave undertaking for a man. Do you understand what is required of you? What you would have to put yourself through?"

Edward nods. "Don't worry about the circumcision. It's fine."

"Fine?"

I almost laugh. Most grown men wouldn't ever entertain discussing knives near their privates. His indifference makes me wonder if he's really considered what it will be like to be part of a minority.

"And children, Edward? You agree to have your children raised in my religion? Even though Jews are treated better in this country, there is still bias and misunderstanding about us. Do you want your children to face that type of prejudice? I'm sure there are plenty of Christian women who would be happy to marry a good, handsome man like you."

His first response is hasty. "I don't want anyone else but you!" Then, Edward's eyes widen ever so slightly, his voice is barely a whisper. "Children? Do you want children, Bella?"

"Well of course. What woman wouldn't want to be a mother?" My response is automatic. It has been ingrained since my childhood that every woman wants a family of her own.

Edward lets go of my fingers and takes to gently stroking the backs of my hands. "I- I can't give you children, Bella. Carlisle and I, we share a genetic abnormality. I'm infertile. I can still…" he pauses and takes a deep breath, "fulfill my duties as your husband, but we won't be able to conceive a child."

My hand automatically seeks out his face. I caress the smooth skin of his cheek. "Oh, Edward. I'm so sorry. Are you sure?"

His jaw clenches. His expression hardens but his eyes are sad. He nods. I hate the look of devastation on his face. "Yes. I'm sure. I guess there is something Michael Newton can give you that I can't. As much as I despise the thought of another man touching you, if it's what you really want, then I will accept your decision if you refuse my proposal."

I close my eyes, unable to bear the sadness I see in his. I feel his lips brush gently against mine. Even though I shouldn't do it, I'm unable to resist the urge to kiss him back. Our lips part and I feel the swipe of his cold tongue against my bottom lip. He takes that lip between his and sucks it lightly then repeats his motions. I angle my neck back and forth as we kiss over and over. He never puts his tongue fully in my mouth although I wouldn't stop him if he did. Still, I can't bring myself to try to do it to him. I know what French kissing is. I've heard the nursing students at the hospital talk about it, but it doesn't seem proper for me to be the one to initiate it, especially since this is really a kiss goodbye. I force myself to stop being selfish. I'm only hurting Edward by acting this way. I break our kiss and take a step back.

"Edward, I do love you and if I could choose, it would be you. I'm so sorry but I can't marry you. I must follow through with the contract my mother has made. It's my duty. I can't abandon her. Rosalie will be gone soon and then I'll be the only blood relative she has. You're such a good man and you deserve to find someone who will be a good match for you." I can feel the tears stain my face as I speak the words that will tear Edward away from me forever.

Edward reaches out and strokes my cheek with the back of his hand. I close my eyes as his touch sends shivers through me. "There is no one else for me, Bella. I love you and I will only ever love you. I swear, I will do anything to make you happy. I will always be here if you need me."

I nod but I don't believe him. He is not the type to be alone. He is so charming and attractive. My heart breaks but this about more than me. The dowry money the Newtons are giving us will pay for Rosalie's care in the sanitarium. I have a debt to her that must be repaid. I just never imagined the price would be so high. He turns and leaves without another word. I close the door behind him before I collapse on the floor and cry like I haven't done since we escaped Lvov.

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I drive aimlessly about Rochester until the desire to run becomes too strong. The anger and hurt surge through me and I need unleash it. I can't be around a human population right now. I park my car near a phone booth and make a quick call to Carlisle to let him know I won't be at the hospital as usual. I confess that I have fallen in love with Miss Swan but that it is hopeless.

"Edward, I'm sorry about Miss Swan. I know how close you have grown over the past few months."

My voice is bitter as I reply. "It was a mistake. I was stupid and naïve and thought our differences wouldn't matter but they do. I can't give her the one thing she needs. I should never have begun caring for Rosalie and spending so much time with them. I may be immortal but I'm powerless when it comes to Miss Swan."

I begin to run as soon as I hang up the phone. I run for hours. Daylight breaks and the sky is overcast, threatening more snow. It doesn't matter. I'm deep in the woods running until I hit Canada. I can hear Niagara Falls several miles away. I turn and run back. Then I do it again, over and over. It's nightfall when I finally return to our isolated home on the outskirts of Rochester. Bella never even saw where I lived. As I approach, I hear a scream. My mind is filled with images of pain and burning. Someone is going through the change. I hear curses and pleas in several languages- English, Russian, Yiddish. Oh God, please no! I throw open the front door just as Carlisle runs down the stairs. He must have caught my scent because I doubt even someone with vampire senses could hear me over her screams.

"What have you done?!" I cry, horrified.

Carlisle puts his hand on my shoulder in a reassuring gesture. "Edward, I know it's hard to bear witness to the pain of the change but you've been through it, you know she'll be fine."

"But, why? Why did you change her?" I push him away as I run my hands through my hair, pulling it hard. I pace at vampire speed around the entry hall.

Carlisle stares at me in surprise. "Edward, you were so distraught. I know how much you love her. This is really the only way for the two of you to be together."

I stop, his words suddenly making sense. I unleash a string of curses, words I've never before considered saying fall with ease from my lips as though I were a longshoreman.

"Edward! Edward, I know how you feel about our souls but she's your mate. I went through the same emotions when I changed Esme but it's right. You deserve to be happy."

The piercing screams continue. I shake my head. I need to make him understand.

"Carlisle, when I said I loved Miss Swan, I meant Bella, not Rosalie."

I tell him everything then, how Bella and I have grown closer and how I hoped foolishly that I could spend her human life with her as her husband. Finally, I tell him how Bella refused me because her mother had arranged for her to marry another, a man who could give her children.

Carlisle is beyond remorseful about Rosalie. I can see now that he planned to change her for some time and had hid his thoughts from me, since he thought I'd object despite my amorous feelings. He knows I believe that vampires no longer have souls.

I hear another scream from upstairs and the sound of Esme restraining Rosalie. Apparently, Rosalie has already acquired vampire hearing and our discussion upset her.

Carlisle can't hear her thoughts so he continues as though there wasn't an angry newborn upstairs enduring the burning hell of the change. His thoughts shift to Bella.

"Edward, how could you consider keeping Bella human? She would know that you aren't normal. From what you told me, she has already noticed that you are different."

"I knew I would eventually have to tell her but I assumed I had several years where I could prepare her for the idea."

Carlisle chuckles, "Do you really think you would have had that long? It would have been obvious the moment you tried to…"

"Don't!" I warn.

I can see where his thoughts are and I don't want him thinking of Bella in that way. I close my eyes as another wave of anger rushes through my body. It's so powerful; it almost feels like it can flow through my veins. I need to hunt. I'm feeling too aggressive. Carlisle doesn't grasp how close to the edge I am. He continues to babble about how stupid I've been. He doesn't phrase it that way, but I infer his meaning. Why did I ever think a damned creature of the night like me could make a life with a human? I'm a vampire.

I run from the house, unable to bear any more of Rosalie's screams and Carlisle's derision. I don't pay attention to where I'm going until I've reached the outlying building of the city. Rochester is small but it still has a bustling downtown. Luckily, it is past ten o'clock on a Thursday so the streets are mostly deserted. I pause in front of a church. I contemplate going inside and pleading my case to the God that doesn't listen to demons like me. Before I can begin to climb the steps, I hear dark thoughts. I am not the only damned creature loose tonight. I turn and seek out the rapist just as he targets his prey. The faces and images of countless women he has tortured and killed fill his mind. I think of Rose, lying there burning and Bella, and even Esme, who was once just as vulnerable and defenseless as the woman hurrying home from a late visit to a sick friend. I'm filled with fury and rage. This man is ten times the monster I am yet he has gotten away with his crimes, moving from town to town without any retribution. I move forward. The kill is clean, too easy. He never ever knew I was there behind him. One moment he was alive and the next, his neck was snapped. I hold his body. His pulse throbs once more as the blood slows in his veins. I am a vampire. I have spent almost a decade thinking I could live with humans; that I could be just like them. I can't. I place my hand on the dead man's wrist, the blood is still warm in his veins and it smells good. I've denied it for so long, suffered through the burning thirst and for what? I'll never be what Bella needs. My teeth slice through the skin of the man's neck like it's butter. I don't stop until he is dry and my eyes burn red.

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New York City, October 31, 1929

The past few days have been busy for me. The stock market crash two days ago has brought forth the worst behavior in the humans. The despair and desperation that began on Wall Street has spilled over until the entire city has reduced itself to chaos. Monsters are on the prowl, ready to consume their victims. They always seem surprised when there is another more deadly predator that consumes them. I hide my red eyes behind dark glasses. They don't hinder my eyesight even though the sun has long since set. I'm standing in the shadows of an alley in midtown, near the Plaza, when an unexpected image enters my mind: Bella, slightly older and thinner than in my own memories. I look around trying to determine who is thinking of her. I spot a man with blond hair and blue eyes. I recognize him from the Rochester newspaper wedding announcement: Michael Newton. The next image almost brings me to my knees. Bella is being hit, slapped and kicked. He ignores her cries, taking pleasure in punishing her. My hands grip the edge of the building next to me, clawing through the brick like it was sand. Michael Newton's thoughts are hateful but unfocused. He's drunk. I'm certain of it. He blames his marriage to Bella for every unhappiness in his life. He wanted to marry someone else, a Christian girl named Jessica. I can see her in his memories. She's a cheap looking floozy soaking in a gin bath, pouring the alcohol over her naked body. He turns into the Plaza and I follow. I've caught his scent so it's easy to find the room on the nineteenth floor. I pause outside the door. A human wouldn't be able to hear them but I have no problem. Bella is pleading, an image of a dark haired toddler with blue eyes momentarily enters Newton's mind. They have a son. Then he becomes even angrier because it's been two years since the child was born and Bella should be pregnant again but she's not.

"Why can't you have another baby? What's wrong with you? The one thing you're supposed to do is have my babies so my parents can have their heirs. You're too damn skinny. You're lucky I can get it up, you're such a meeshkite. That damn yenta that set this up should be strung up by her fingernails. How am I supposed to fuck a bony thing like you?"

He begins to unbuckle his belt, ordering Bella to get on the bed and spread her legs. Before he can even take a step, I've forced the door open. I take him by the neck and throw him through the plate glass windows of their suite. He didn't even have time to scream.

I turn towards Bella when I hear her gasp. "Edward?"

I walk to the bed and fall to my knees in front of her.

"I'm so sorry. I said I would always be there if you needed me and I failed you. If I had known, he would have been dead the second after he first touched you."

"Edward, you couldn't have known. No one, not even my mother knows."

"Why? Why didn't you tell her? Wouldn't the marriage contract have been violated if he abused you?" I recall that a Jewish divorce can only be initiated by the husband but in certain situations, rabbis could force the husband to grant a divorce.

"Six months after they were married, her new husband became ill and they had to move to Florida for his health. At the time, my marriage wasn't so bad. I was already pregnant with Benjamin and Michael was decent to me. However, over time, he began drinking more and more. He isn't abusive when he's sober but when he drinks he becomes a mean, cruel man. He doesn't drink around our family. I was afraid no one would believe me."

My hand clenches around the round top of the footboard and instantly crushes the iron frame.

Bella says nothing. With a shaking hand, she removes my glasses. I keep my eyes lowered. I know it's too late, she saw everything I've done since I've entered the hotel room.

"Edward, what are you?"

"Don't be afraid. I swear, I'd never hurt you."

"I know." Her voice shakes, despite her words. She reaches out with one finger and places it under my chin. I could easily resist, but I don't. I raise my head and let her see my red eyes.

"Upier."

I recognize the word for a male vampire. It's the same in all the dialects of Eastern Europe.

I nod. She traces my jaw with her finger, back and forth in repetition. Her other hand has begun stroking my hair. I almost sigh at the sensation.

"I always knew there was something different about you. I pretended it was just my brain looking for reasons for us to not be together, but somehow, deep down I knew it was more."

I watch and listen. Her response isn't at all what I would expect. Her breathing and heartbeat are normal. Her voice is no longer weak and her hands are steady.

"Bella?"

"Yes, Edward?"

"You realize that I'm a blood sucking demon that just murdered your husband by flinging him nineteen stories out a window?"

"Yes, Edward." She nods as her hands continue to caress me.

"Aren't you just a bit upset?" She must be in shock. It's the only logical explanation.

She stops her movements, although her warm hands stay in contact with my skin.

"You saved me and you love me. I don't care about the rest."

"I kill people. I drink their blood." I say it slowly, letting it sink in.

"Do you kill women?"

"Never."

"Children?"

"Absolutely not."

I clear my throat even though it's not necessary. I'm a bit relieved that I fed last night because she still smells just as delicious as I remember. I tell her everything. I tell her about Carlisle, my change, how I once drank only from animals and how I now hunt only the dregs of society. I pause, gathering courage, before I tell her about Rosalie, who I know is living with Carlisle and Esme in Tennessee.

"Rosalie is alive?" Her smile is beyond beautiful.

I nod cautiously. "Well, in this case alive is a relative term. She exists."

"But there was a funeral? Who did we bury?"

"Carlisle found a similar-looking corpse. It was the least he could do, considering the circumstances."

"Can I see her?"

"She'll be different than how you remember her."

"Does she kill humans too?" I hang my head in shame. The enormity of the sins of my life over the past few years hits me hard.

"No. I've only spoken to Carlisle twice in the past few years but from what I gather, Rosalie is very good at resisting the temptation to drink from humans."

I pause, taking an unnecessary breath. My throat burns with her scent. Good, I deserve to be punished.

"I'm so sorry, Bella. I'm not sorry I killed Newton but I'm sorry that I've not lived the way I was taught. I shouldn't have taken those lives, even if they were monsters."

"Edward, no! You have nothing to feel ashamed about. How many lives did you save? How many horrible crimes did you stop? I've seen women raped and men murdered. I'm glad you prevented more people from suffering from that."

I nod. "I should go. I don't want to cause more problems and I'm sure someone will discover the identity of that body before long. Luckily, there have been so many people jumping out of windows the past few days that no one will question it. Just say you were sleeping, can you do that?"

I rise to my feet but Bella kneels on the bed and clings to my shoulders.

"Edward, I don't want you to go! Please, I lost you once because I was too worried about my obligations to consider my own happiness. I had no hope until you burst through that door. Now, I have everything again but only if you'll stay with me."

I feel a sensation almost like a heartbeat pounding through me.

"You… you want me? Even though you know what I am? I'm a soulless killer. I don't deserve someone like you, someone good and pure."

Bella shakes her head as her hands slides down to entwine with mine.

"Stop. You need to not think such things about yourself and you shouldn't put me on a pedestal. I'm glad you killed him. He was a horrible drunk who beat me and forced himself on me. I've dreamed that you would come for me. I've thought about killing him myself, so many times. Does that sound like someone good and pure? And you're not a soulless killer. I understand if you don't feel what you once did for me. It's been a long time and I refused you but if there is a chance you still love me, then please, stay."

I stroke the back of her soft, warm cheek with my hand. My heart swells with a joy I never thought possible for me.

"I told you I would only love you, no one else. That will be true for eternity." I kiss her gently. "I love you, Bella. Forever."

"I love you, Edward. I love you and I never want to be apart from you again."

We kiss again, our mouths eager and frenzied. I feel her lips part as I sweep my tongue over and then inside. She moans passionately as our tongues entwine. She's so warm, I can't get enough but I need to be sure she wants this. I break our kiss.

"Bella, I want to … will you let me love you?" I ask. I'm suddenly fearful. I've never done this before, even though I've seen it so often in the minds of others. I'm also still feeling the adrenaline from my actions although I don't think I could ever hurt Bella.

Bella pulls me towards her and we tumble backwards onto the bed. "Yes, please Edward. I need you."

Before I can go any further, I hear the thoughts of someone on the elevator that is still rising from the lobby. They've found Newton's wallet.

"I'll be right back."

I rise from the bed and silently inspect the door. I'm lucky I only broke the lock and didn't damage the frame or wood. At vampire speed, I steal a lock from the door of the next suite and replace it before the elevator opens. No one will know there was anything amiss.

"The police are coming." I explain. "Can you do this?"

She nods. "Only if you promise to come back for me."

I kiss her again before I make my way to the window. There is a ledge that will make my escape easy.

"I'll be on the roof. I'll return as soon as they're gone."

It's several hours later when Bella is finally free to begin her new life. The hotel has provided her with a new suite, one without a broken window. As I predicted, Michael Newton's death is ruled to be just one of many suicides this week. No one doubts Bella's story.

"Edward?" Bella is lying on her side, waiting for me to join her but I can tell by the way she's biting her lip that something is on her mind.

"What is it, love?" I cross the room and gently hold her hand.

"Can Benjamin live with us?"

I smile. "Yes, as long as you don't mind that his stepfather is an Upier."

She smiles back but then her face grows serious. "But what if his mother wants to be a vampire, what then?"

"Bella, you don't need to do that."

"I want to."

I explain what it's like, how newborns can't be around humans for the first year, perhaps longer and she is quiet as she considers my words.

"You can change me when Benjamin goes to school. We'll send him to the Yeshiva boarding school for a year and you can do it then."

"Bella…" I start to protest but she covers my lips with her fingers.

"Edward, tonight before you came to save me, I thought I would never escape from Michael and that I would never be happy. But now, now I know hope and love are eternal. Hope never dies and neither will we."

Yiddish glossary:

Goyim- not Jewish

Shadkhen- matchmaker

Schmeckel- penis, literally small penis

Meshugass- crazy

Meshuganeh- crazy person

Tuchis- buttocks

Shagetz- non-Jewish man

Shanda- scandal

Ketubah- marriage contract

Meeshkite- ugly

Yenta- busybody

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