The Twilight Saga Collection part 1(98)

“You can laugh,” he said. “It is sort of ironic.”

I didn’t laugh. My hand raised automatically, one finger extended as if to touch the large wooden cross, its dark patina contrasting with the lighter tone of the wall. I didn’t touch it, though I was curious if the aged wood would feel as silky as it looked.

“It must be very old,” I guessed.

He shrugged. “Early sixteen-thirties, more or less.”

I looked away from the cross to stare at him.

“Why do you keep this here?” I wondered.

“Nostalgia. It belonged to Carlisle’s father.”

“He collected antiques?” I suggested doubtfully.

“No. He carved this himself. It hung on the wall above the pulpit in the vicarage where he preached.”

I wasn’t sure if my face betrayed my shock, but I returned to gazing at the simple, ancient cross, just in case. I quickly did the mental math; the cross was over three hundred and seventy years old. The silence stretched on as I struggled to wrap my mind around the concept of so many years.

“Are you all right?” He sounded worried.

“How old is Carlisle?” I asked quietly, ignoring his question, still staring up.

“He just celebrated his three hundred and sixty-second birthday,” Edward said. I looked back at him, a million questions in my eyes.

He watched me carefully as he spoke.

“Carlisle was born in London, in the sixteen-forties, he believes. Time wasn’t marked as accurately then, for the common people anyway. It was just before Cromwell’s rule, though.”

I kept my face composed, aware of his scrutiny as I listened. It was easier if I didn’t try to believe.

“He was the only son of an Anglican pastor. His mother died giving birth to him. His father was an intolerant man. As the Protestants came into power, he was enthusiastic in his persecution of Roman Catholics and other religions. He also believed very strongly in the reality of evil. He led hunts for witches, werewolves . . . and vampires.” I grew very still at the word. I’m sure he noticed, but he went on without pausing.

“They burned a lot of innocent people — of course the real creatures that he sought were not so easy to catch.

“When the pastor grew old, he placed his obedient son in charge of the raids. At first Carlisle was a disappointment; he was not quick to accuse, to see demons where they did not exist. But he was persistent, and more clever than his father. He actually discovered a coven of true vampires that lived hidden in the sewers of the city, only coming out by night to hunt. In those days, when monsters were not just myths and legends, that was the way many lived.

“The people gathered their pitchforks and torches, of course” — his brief laugh was darker now — “and waited where Carlisle had seen the monsters exit into the street. Eventually one emerged.”

His voice was very quiet; I strained to catch the words.

“He must have been ancient, and weak with hunger. Carlisle heard him call out in Latin to the others when he caught the scent of the mob. He ran through the streets, and Carlisle — he was twenty-three and very fast — was in the lead of the pursuit. The creature could have easily outrun them, but Carlisle thinks he was too hungry, so he turned and attacked. He fell on Carlisle first, but the others were close behind, and he turned to defend himself. He killed two men, and made off with a third, leaving Carlisle bleeding in the street.”

He paused. I could sense he was editing something, keeping something from me.

“Carlisle knew what his father would do. The bodies would be burned — anything infected by the monster must be destroyed. Carlisle acted instinctively to save his own life. He crawled away from the alley while the mob followed the fiend and his victim. He hid in a cellar, buried himself in rotting potatoes for three days. It’s a miracle he was able to keep silent, to stay undiscovered.

“It was over then, and he realized what he had become.”

I’m not sure what my face was revealing, but he suddenly broke off.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I assured him. And, though I bit my lip in hesitation, he must have seen the curiosity burning in my eyes.

He smiled. “I expect you have a few more questions for me.”

“A few.”

His smile widened over his brilliant teeth. He started back down the hall, pulling me along by the hand. “Come on, then,” he encouraged. “I’ll show you.”





16. CARLISLE


HE LED ME BACK TO THE ROOM THAT HE’D POINTED OUT as Carlisle’s office. He paused outside the door for an instant.

“Come in,” Carlisle’s voice invited.