Carlisle was coming back from hunting when he heard an obtusely familiar voice calling for help. He didn't know where he'd heard it before, and perhaps he hadn't, only familiar in the retelling, but it didn't matter. He saw the child, and the young woman, locked in an embrace that was all together unnatural, and for just a moment, his chest clenched with fear. An immortal child. Every vampire he knew dreaded that sight, dreaded the implications of what was before him. And then he remembered what Edward had told him, and he knew those curls.

Claudia.

Bella's begging to be delivered had scarcely left her lips before Carlisle was at her side. His hands, surprisingly gentle despite his great strength, cupped the sides of Claudia's head, removing her fangs from the human girl's throat without tearing it open, and pulled her away. All of this happened so quickly that, before Bella's body could crumble, as honestly, he expected it to do, Carlisle was there with an arm around her waist, putting himself between the little vampire and her intended meal.

"You can't kill here, little one," he said in a calm, strong voice, refusing to get rilled up by what had happened. That would serve no one well.