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〃Is that possible？〃 My voice was faint。
〃No； there are very few ways we can be killed。〃
I opened my mouth to ask； but he spoke before I could。
〃So he grew very hungry； and eventually weak。 He strayed as far as he
could from the human populace； recognizing that his willpower was
weakening； too。 For months he wandered by night； seeking the loneliest
places； loathing himself。
〃One night； a herd of deer passed his hiding place。 He was so wild with
thirst that he attacked without a thought。 His strength returned and he
realized there was an alternative to being the vile monster he feared。
Had he not eaten venison in his former life？ Over the next months his new
philosophy was born。 He could exist without being a demon。 He found
himself again。
〃He began to make better use of his time。 He'd always been intelligent；
eager to learn。 Now he had unlimited time before him。 He studied by
night； planned by day。 He swam to France and —〃
〃He swam to France？〃
〃People swim the Channel all the time； Bella；〃 he reminded me patiently。
〃That's true； I guess。 It just sounded funny in that context。 Go on。〃
〃Swimming is easy for us —〃
〃Everything is easy for you；〃 I griped。
He waited； his expression amused。
〃I won't interrupt again； I promise。〃
He chuckled darkly； and finished his sentence。 〃Because； technically； we
don't need to breathe。〃
〃You —〃
〃No； no； you promised。〃 He laughed； putting his cold finger lightly to my
lips。 〃Do you want to hear the story or not？〃
〃You can't spring something like that on me； and then expect me not to
say anything；〃 I mumbled against his finger。
He lifted his hand； moving it to rest against my neck。 The speed of my
heart reacted to that； but I persisted。
〃You don't have to breathe？〃 I demanded。
〃No； it's not necessary。 Just a habit。〃 He shrugged。
〃How long can you go… without breathing？〃
〃Indefinitely； I suppose； I don't know。 It gets a bit unfortable —
being without a sense of smell。〃
〃A bit unfortable；〃 I echoed。
I wasn't paying attention to my own expression； but something in it made
him grow somber。 His hand dropped to his side and he stood very still；
his eyes intent on my face。 The silence lengthened。 His features were
immobile as stone。
〃What is it？〃 I whispered； touching his frozen face。
His face softened under my hand； and he sighed。 〃I keep waiting for it to
happen。〃
〃For what to happen？〃
〃I know that at some point； something I tell you or something you see is
going to be too much。 And then you'll run away from me； screaming as you
go。〃 He smiled half a smile； but his eyes were serious。 〃I won't stop
you。 I want this to happen； because I want you to be safe。 And yet； I
want to be with you。 The two desires are impossible to reconcile…〃 He
trailed off； staring at my face。 Waiting。
〃I'm not running anywhere；〃 I promised。
〃We'll see；〃 he said； smiling again。
I frowned at him。 〃So； go on — Carlisle was swimming to France。〃
He paused； getting back into his story。 Reflexively； his eyes flickered
to another picture — the most colorful of them all； the most ornately
framed； and the largest； it was twice as wide as the door it hung next
to。 The canvas overflowed with bright figures in swirling robes； writhing
around long pillars and off marbled balconies。 I couldn't tell if it
represented Greek mythology； or if the characters floating in the clouds
above were meant to be biblical。
〃Carlisle swam to France； and continued on through Europe； to the
universities there。 By night he studied music； science； medicine — and
found his calling； his penance； in that； in saving human lives。〃 His
expression became awed； almost reverent。 〃I can't adequately describe the
struggle； it took Carlisle two centuries of torturous effort to perfect
his selfcontrol。 Now he is all but immune to the scent of human blood；
and he is able to do the work he loves without agony。 He finds a great
deal of peace there； at the hospital…〃 Edward stared off into space for a
long moment。 Suddenly he seemed to recall his purpose。 He tapped his
finger against the huge painting in front of us。
〃He was studying in Italy when he discovered the others there。 They were
much more civilized and educated than the wraiths of the London sewers。〃
He touched a paratively sedate quartet of figures painted on the
highest balcony； looking down calmly on the mayhem below them。 I examined
the grouping carefully and realized； with a startled laugh； that I
recognized the goldenhaired man。
〃Solimena was greatly inspired by Carlisle's friends。 He often painted
them as gods；〃 Edward chuckled。 〃Aro； Marcus； Caius；〃 he said； indicating
the other three； two blackhaired； one snowywhite。 〃Nighttime patrons of
the arts。〃
〃What happened to them？〃 I wondered aloud； my fingertip hovering a
centimeter from the figures on the canvas。
〃They're still there。〃 He shrugged。 〃As they have been for who knows how
many millennia。 Carlisle stayed with them only for a short time； just a
few decades。 He greatly admired their civility； their refinement； but
they persisted in trying to cure his aversion to 'his natural food
source；' as they called it。 They tried to persuade him； and he tried to
persuade them； to no avail。 At that point； Carlisle decided to try the
New World。 He dreamed of finding others like himself。 He was very lonely；
you see。
〃He didn't find anyone for a long time。 But； as monsters became the stuff
of fairy tales； he found he could interact with unsuspecting humans as if
he were one of them。 He began practicing medicine。 But the panionship
he craved evaded him； he couldn't risk familiarity。
〃When the influenza epidemic hit； he was working nights in a hospital in
Chicago。 He'd been turning over an idea in his mind for several years；
and he had almost decided to act — since he couldn't find a panion； he
would create one。 He wasn't absolutely sure how his own transformation
had occurred； so he was hesitant。 And he was loath to steal anyone's life
the way his had been stolen。 It was in that frame