Thank you so much to all of you who have reviewed and given this story a fav! I so appreciate it. ^^ I've decided to up the rating to an M, just in case. It may not warrant it, but I'd rather be more safe than sorry as this dark tale progresses.

Chapter 5

"Anything for you, angela."

Carlisle later looked back, and cursed the moment those words left his lips.

"I want a child of my own, Carlisle."

She was a fool. So was he, for acquiescing. A child? What sort of child?

A real child, of and by my own blood. Find a way, and I will live by your side for the rest of my days…"

The question had been abrupt. It hit him between the ribs with stunning force, leaving him speechless for a moment. At first, he ignored the shock. The pleading look in Diana's eyes, and the sweet longing in her voice was enough to melt his too-soft heart.

"Anything for you, angela," he heard himself say. He watched her face become luminous with joy, her eyes brilliant gems. She pressed him close in an embrace, which he lovingly returned.

"Thank you, Carlisle," she breathed rapidly. "Oh, thank you!"

He patted the shining darkness of her head, resting his chin atop it briefly. It was then the reality of what she had asked began to truly sink in. Despair loomed on the fringe of his consciousness. This was impossible.

Did she believe he could achieve the impossible? Was she prepared for failure? Because if he was being truly honest with himself… failure was the only possible outcome for this future.

Diana left to feed, giving him a parting kiss. He could hear her dancing, happy steps down the corridor, echoing off the walls and within his own mind. He listened as more footsteps soon followed; the tramping, clumsy steps of humans as they were herded to their demise. Aro's merry voice burst out of nowhere, reaching him even from the throne room. Surely it wasn't that time already…

"My dear, dear ones! So happy you could join us—"

No! Carlisle swore, racing from his chair to the window and flinging open the delicate panes. He stood swaying there for a moment, his blonde hair falling onto his forehead. His gaze took in the small city of Volterra, casting over the hills that stretched lazily until they hardened into a line of mountains that were the sweetest shades of blue and violet. Kissed silver by the moonlight, and lightly dusted with a rare autumn snow, it was a breathtaking view he had enjoyed many times.

A view soon to be broken by desperate screams.

He closed his eyes with a shudder, and jumped. And as he fell, he prayed.

Archangele… contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium.

The wind whistled sharply in his ears as he plummeted over fifty feet, landing catlike as his hands briefly grazed the ground. He must be quick. Aro no longer took so long on his preamble, thanks to Caius' insistence, and the vampires of Volterra were hungry tonight.

Archangele… contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium. Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur...

He tore of his shoes and stockings, tearing the cravat from his throat and flinging off his jacket. He knew the fine materials would be ruined by the damp ground, but he did not care. As soon as these burdens were laid aside, he took off, flying over snowy turf as if chased by the very demons of Hell. As he ran, the wind whipped moisture from his cheeks. He was a coward. For by running, he was admitting, once again, that he could not save them. He could not capture them from the maws of Death, and if he even tried, he would only fall prey to the sin that crawled through every corridor and stone wall of the fortress. So he ran, rather than sully his conscience with their cries. The guilt pounded in his skull, causing the scant blood in his body to boil with rage and grief.

The herd of deer never saw him coming.

Standing from the carnage of crushed skulls and fragments of flesh mere moments later, Carlisle wiped his mouth with a shaking hand. He couldn't bear to think of the throne room now, the glee on Aro's face. So he thought of Diana.

"A real child, of and by my own blood…"

What a fool he was, to so hastily agree, and without any further knowledge of her wishes! He knew her strange habits. It might be days before he saw her again, and she might visit only for the purpose of lovemaking. There were still so many thing he didn't know about her, though he had shared with her details of his previous life. He'd been able to brush it off before, when their moments had been innocent and sweet, but now… Who was she? When he tentatively pressed her about her request, she had said she'd "take care" of the Masters, should they question his activities. He had no idea what this meant. These activities, he understood too well, would border dangerously close to that of an Immortal Child. So Diana's confidence worried him more than it comforted. He had seen what the Italian vampires could do, and feared even more what hadn't yet been revealed.

Carlisle held his head in his hands as he knelt in the grass, his body burning and head pounding, though he had consumed blood only moments before.

"Keep it together, old man," he whispered to himself, exhaling. "You will drive yourself mad. She loves you. She would not put you in danger. Perhaps… Perhaps it is not so impossible."

Hours later, he made his way quietly back to the fortress, a determined expression blotting out the despair in his face. He crawled back into his rooms, heading straight to the underground baths, where he cleansed himself of dirt, blood, and anxiety.

His doctoral studies could wait.

He spent many hours studying, whether in his private study or in the castle's library, his careful fingers turning ancient pages of text as well as newer prints. Most of it seemed completely implausible, mere legend passed from one uneducated mouth to another. Immortal science was almost as scarce as that of humans… and Carlisle was young. So very, very young. What was almost half a lifetime in mortal years was almost nothing for one of his kind. He had struggled for years on his medical studies, only to be now presented with an even greater conundrum.

Could a vampire give birth?

It sounded like madness even to think it. But he truly loved Diana, and would not desert her request so early. He studied harder, cutting down on feeding time to devote himself more fully. Aro was curious, he could tell, as to what preoccupied his elusive guest, but he had seemed to avoid Carlisle ever since their amorous confrontation months ago, and especially after introducing Carlisle to Rodolfo at the masque ball. So he let him be.

All the better, the doctor thought grimly, scratching away with his quill. If he had the slightest knowledge of this, my head would be on this table amongst the books.

Finally, after all the time he'd spent poring over dusty volumes and ancient scrolls, he finally came across something: the dhampir, or dhampyr. Product of a sexual union between a vampire male and human female. Not exactly what Diana had been asking for (if he understood her correctly), but it was a start.

He made a soft sound of relief as he read, deep in the recesses of the library, surrounded by the strong, yet to him comforting scent of paper and ink. His fingers trembling with interest, he scanned the lines written on the scroll, his keen mind absorbing everything it could. They were not unlike the Immortal Children. He spread out the ink-stained scroll gentle, the folklore hailing from Eastern Europe. He had only a rudimentary understanding of Slavic languages, but did well enough. According to legend, these half-bloods were the product of men who had become vampires, and then returned by night to their wives or the women they had been attracted to in life to feed on them. Dhampir children were born with wild dark hair, pointed ears, slanted almond eyes, and a deep mark on their back that resembled a tail. Their senses were also much stronger than a human's, though not as much as a vampires, and they could easily endure sunlight and human food, if needed.

"Dear God," Carlisle whispered, horrified at the image this engendered, yet morbidly fascinated. The text went on to describe how these children would often devour the mother upon birth before seeking out the father, but he snapped the scroll shut before reading any further.

"Dear God," he said again.

There was precious little else on the dhampir, but it was the best find he'd had in weeks. He worked through the night and into the morning, adding a few more notes to his papers, his eyes red-rimmed from lack of nourishment and exercise. At about five in the morning, the door opened, revealing Diana.

"Hello, dearest," he said wearily, standing with a smile.

She didn't smile back.

Diana was changing, too. She entered his study almost anytime of day, now, never again complaining about the differing smells that had previously disgusted her. Her presence over his shoulder, at first a welcome distraction, soon proved to be a hindrance. He did not like the way she constantly watched him, nor the growing sharpness of her voice when she asked questions… many of which he had no answers for.

"Come," he said to her, standing. He hoped to cheer her; bring back that dancing light in her eyes. Perhaps she would even allow him to share a glass with her, provided she did not wrinkle her nose at his diet. "Let us leave this, for a moment."

"Leave it?" she echoed. "What have you found?"

"Yes." He stood, coming around the desk to stand behind her. His arms encircled her waspish waist. His lips nibbled up and down her white throat, coaxing her to give him the love he felt they both needed. She stood stiffly, and he noted her lack of response, increasing his attentions.

"Carlisle."

He ignored her, finding the tiny creases beneath her ear to be much more fascinating.

"Carlisle, there isn't time."

"There is always time, my darling." He spun her gently in his arms, bending low to capture her mouth with his. She turned away, and his lips missed their mark, brushing her cheek. He frowned, looking down at her. "Diana? What is wrong?"

She lifted her head with an effort, giving him a patient smile. "I am simply not in the mood, dearest. I would really rather you finished your work."

"I cannot focus anymore. I need you."

He had grown increasingly less shy around her, and he hoped the forthright nature of his statement would arouse her passion. He was wrong.

Her delicate hands rose to his chest, pushing him back from her. "Later, cara mia."

No man likes to be rejected. His ego wounded, the doctor frowned. "Diana, something is wrong. I can feel it."

"Nothing is wrong. I am merely waiting for you to continue the experiment." Her eyes darted over his work, exposing a strange restlessness. "So what have you found?"

Carlisle sighed softly, raking a hand through his feathery blonde locks. "Diana… I am afraid there's no way for this child to be of your blood. You are already a vampire. Your…" He tried to phrase it delicately. "Your womb is… not up to the task."

Her eyes hardened as she stared down at his notes, her mouth an ugly, jagged line.
"However…"

She looked up at him.

"There are legends of unions between vampires and humans. Both sexual as well as emotional. It seems that it only works with a vampire male and a human female, and even then… the likelihood is extremely rare." He indicated his notes.

"But it is possible."

He sighed again. "According to the scraps of research we possess and a handful of peasant legends—"

"When shall we begin?" Her eyes had brightened, hard rubies catching the light.

"Begin…?"

"Testing it out, innocent." She giggled. "I'll have Heidi arrange for females to be brought in at once."

Carlisle's mouth gaped open. "I…" He began weakly.

"Don't be foolish, Carlisle. You cannot do everything on paper. It is not scientific."

"I know that."

"I know you know, but you are also stalling." She walked past his desk, her ample skirts rustling. "If you will not bring in a human subject, then I will."

Carlisle stood dumbfounded at her words, his thoughts tangling together. He took a step towards her, then paused. "Diana, you know my feelings on these type of experiments. Why do you think I have always used animals?"

"This has nothing to do with ANIMALS!" she snapped. She whirled to face him, her teeth bared and her hands trembling with sudden rage. "This is a child we are speaking of! My child! And you promised you would help me!"

Silence filled the room. Dark shadows sprung up from the sputtering candles on his desk, flinging cautious shapes onto the walls and velvet drapery. Carlisle stood still by his desk, his expression both bruised and lost. "Diana," he whispered.

Her black eyes met his for a moment longer, then tore away, looking into the empty fireplace at the far end of the room.

"I promised I would help you," he continued, treading carefully. "But in turn, you have to help me, as well. What you ask… well, it may not be…"

"Possible," she finished dully. Her thin shoulders rose, then sank back down slowly, as if the movement hurt her. "Perhaps it is hopeless," she said at last. "Perhaps… I should just light that fireplace. Fling myself into the flames."

"Diana!" Carlisle cried, his voice choked.

She looked up at him, then sighed. "Oh, Carlisle. I am sorry. That was… very wrong of me."

"Do not speak so lightly of your death," he pleaded. "I love you."

"And I love you, angelo. Most dearly. But I want…" She drew in a sharp breath, closing her eyes briefly. "I need this child. You don't know what I've done to… Don't you see it, Carlisle? The little family we could have…"

"A lovely vision, indeed," he said gravely. "But I cannot succumb to a dream that comes at the cost of another's life."

She watched him silently, her expressions flitting back and forth so rapidly that he could not follow them. He lowered his voice, trying to be gentle. "I am still fairly new to this world, yet I strive to remember its rules." He leaned his forehead into his palms. "The Immortal Children are forbidden, Diana. I don't think you realize how close we may come to crossing that line, should we continue. "

"We do not have to—"

"You have not even specified!" he exclaimed, cutting her reply short. "For mercy's sake, is the child to be human or is it immortal? A hybrid has never been known in this world… unless you yourself have such knowledge?"

He looked pointedly at her, waiting. She stood perfectly still, her body resembling a Grecian statue of Aphrodite he had once seen in Athens. Her beautiful features were dazed, helpless... As if he had pushed her to the edge of a cliff and then told her she had to jump.

"I… I hardly know what to say," she whispered. She closed her eyes. "I thought you were going to help me. You are my last hope."

Many questions arose from her words, but he dismissed them for now, walking to her and pulling her precious body close. "Angela mia… I would give my life to help you. But you must be patient with me. Will you do that?"

She nodded, still with that faraway expression.

He pressed warm lips to her forehead. "Ask Heidi if she will send a female to my study next week, and we shall go from there."

Diana's eyes shot up to his, her lips trembling. "Oh, Carlisle. You have no idea how much this means—"

He touched her lips, silencing her tenderly. "Slowly, my darling. We are on dangerous ground. Do you think Aro knows what we are doing?"

"I will take care of the Masters."

He stared at her, surprised again at her surety, then bent low, capturing a much-needed kiss. She returned it with all the fervor he had missed, her jeweled arms snaking around his neck. They soon found themselves in a rather compromising position, the rug on the floor torn to shreds by their activities, and the doctor's body pinned underneath by that of his puzzling lover.

Carlisle's brain was in a fog. Had he made the right decision? Had she? What if—he groaned as Diana's nails raked up his sides—what if they were caught? What would Aro say… if he even said anything at all? It was not like he had created tiny vampire spawn running up and down the hallways, causing havoc, but the future… ah, the future was so uncertain.

It was a very dangerous situation, indeed.

"Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored."

(Aldous Huxley)

Archangele… contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium. - [Saint Michael] the Archangel... Be our protection against the malice and snares of the devil.

Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur - May God rebuke him we humbly pray...