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.
Edward opened the door to a high-ceilinged room with tall, west-facing
windows. The walls were paneled again, in a darker wood — where they were
visible. Most of the wall space was taken up by towering bookshelves that
reached high above my head and held more books than I'd ever seen outside
a library.
Carlisle sat behind a huge mahogany desk in a leather chair. He was just
placing a bookmark in the pages of the thick volume he held. The room was
how I'd always imagined a college dean's would look — only Carlisle
looked too young to fit the part.
"What can I do for you?" he asked us pleasantly, rising from his seat.
"I wanted to show Bella some of our history," Edward said. "Well, your
history, actually."
"We didn't mean to disturb you," I apologized.
"Not at all. Where are you going to start?"
"The Waggoner," Edward replied, placing one hand lightly on my shoulder
and spinning me around to look back toward the door we'd just come
through. Every time he touched me, in even the most casual way, my heart
had an audible reaction. It was more embarrassing with Carlisle there.
The wall we faced now was different from the others. Instead of
bookshelves, this wall was crowded with framed pictures of all sizes,
some in vibrant colors, others dull monochromes. I searched for some
logic, some binding motif the collection had in common, but I found
nothing in my hasty examination.
Edward pulled me toward the far left side, standing me in front of a
small square oil painting in a plain wooden frame. This one did not stand
out among the bigger and brighter pieces; painted in varying tones of
sepia, it depicted a miniature city full of steeply slanted roofs, with
thin spires atop a few scattered towers. A wide river filled the
foreground, crossed by a bridge covered with structures that looked like
tiny cathedrals.
"London in the sixteen-fifties," Edward said.
"The London of my youth," Carlisle added, from a few feet behind us. I
flinched; I hadn't heard him approach. Edward squeezed my hand.
"Will you tell the story?" Edward asked. I twisted a little to see
Carlisle's reaction.
He met my glance and smiled. "I would," he replied. "But I'm actually
running a bit late. The hospital called this morning — Dr. Snow is taking
a sick day. Besides, you know the stories as well as I do," he added,
grinning at Edward now.
It was a strange combination to absorb — the everyday concerns of the
town doctor stuck in the middle of a discussion of his early days in
seventeenth-century London.
It was also unsettling to know that he spoke aloud only for my benefit.
After another warm smile for me, Carlisle left the room.
I stared at the little picture of Carlisle's hometown for a long moment.
"What happened then?" I finally asked, staring up at Edward, who was
watching me. "When he realized what had happened to him?"
He glanced back to the paintings, and I looked to see which image caught
his interest now. It was a larger landscape in dull fall colors — an
empty, shadowed meadow in a forest, with a craggy peak in the distance.
"When he knew what he had become," Edward said quietly, "he rebelled
against it. He tried to destroy himself. But that's not easily done."
"How?" I didn't mean to say it aloud, but the word broke through my shock.
"He jumped from great heights," Edward told me, his voice impassive. "He
tried to drown himself in the ocean… but he was young to the new life,
and very strong. It is amazing that he was able to resist… feeding… while
he was still so new. The instinct is more powerful then, it takes over
everything. But he was so repelled by himself that he had the strength to
try to kill himself with starvation."
"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 uncomfortable —
being without a sense of smell."
"A bit uncomfortable," 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 self-control. 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 comparatively 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 golden-haired 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 black-haired, one snowy-white. "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 companionship
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 companion, 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 of mind that he found
me. There was no hope for me; I was left in a ward with the dying. He had
nursed my parents, and knew I was alone. He decided to try…"
His voice, nearly a whisper now, trailed off. He stared unseeingly
through the west windows. I wondered which images filled his mind now,
Carlisle's memories or his own. I waited quietly.
When he turned back to me, a gentle angel's smile lit his expression.
"And so we've come full circle," he concluded.
"Have you always stayed with Carlisle, then?" I wondered.
"Almost always." He put his hand lightly on my waist and pulled me with
him as he walked through the door. I stared back at the wall of pictures,
wondering if I would ever get to hear the other stories.
Edward didn't say any more as we walked down the hall, so I asked,
"Almost?"
He sighed, seeming reluctant to answer. "Well, I had a typical bout of
rebellious adolescence — about ten years after I was… born… created,
whatever you want to call it. I wasn't sold on his life of abstinence,
and I resented him for curbing my appetite. So I went off on my own for a
time."
"Really?" I was intrigued, rather than frightened, as I perhaps should
have been.
He could tell. I vaguely realized that we were headed up the next flight
of stairs, but I wasn't paying much attention to my surroundings.
"That doesn't repulse you?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I guess… it sounds reasonable."
He barked a laugh, more loudly than before. We were at the top of the
stairs now, in another paneled hallway.
"From the time of my new birth," he murmured, "I had the advantage of
knowing what everyone around me was thinking, both human and non-human
alike. That's why it took me ten years to defy Carlisle — I could read
his perfect sincerity, understand exactly why he lived the way he did.
"It took me only a few years to return to Carlisle and recommit to his
vision. I thought I would be exempt from the… depression… that
accompanies a conscience. Because I knew the thoughts of my prey, I could
pass over the innocent and pursue only the evil. If I followed a murderer
down a dark alley where he stalked a young girl — if I saved her, then
surely I wasn't so terrible."
I shivered, imagining only too clearly what he described — the alley at
night, the frightened girl, the dark man behind her. And Edward, Edward
as he hunted, terrible and glorious as a young god, unstoppable. Would
she have been grateful, that girl, or more frightened than before?
"But as time went on, I began to see the monster in my eyes. I couldn't
escape the debt of so much human life taken, no matter how justified. And
I went back to Carlisle and Esme. They welcomed me back like the
prodigal. It was more than I deserved."
We'd come to a stop in front of the last door in the hall.
"My room," he informed me, opening it and pulling me through.
His room faced south, with a wall-sized window like the great room below.
The whole back side of the house must be glass. His view looked down on
the winding Sol Duc River, across the untouched forest to the Olympic
Mountain range. The mountains were much closer than I would have believed.
The western wall was completely covered with shelf after shelf of CDs.
His room was better stocked than a music store. In the corner was a
sophisticated-looking sound system, the kind I was afraid to touch
because I'd be sure to break something. There was no bed, only a wide and
inviting black leather sofa. The floor was covered with a thick golden
carpet, and the walls were hung with heavy fabric in a slightly darker
shade.
"Good acoustics?" I guessed.
He chuckled and nodded.
He picked up a remote and turned the stereo on. It was quiet, but the
soft jazz number sounded like the band was in the room with us. I went to
look at his mind-boggling music collection.
"How do you have these organized?" I asked, unable to find any rhyme or
reason to the titles.
He wasn't paying attention.
"Ummm, by year, and then by personal preference within that frame," he
said absently.
I turned, and he was looking at me with a peculiar expression in his eyes.
"What?"
"I was prepared to feel… relieved. Having you know about everything, not
needing to keep secrets from you. But I didn't expect to feel more than
that. I like it. It makes me… happy." He shrugged, smiling slightly.
"I'm glad," I said, smiling back. I'd worried that he might regret
telling me these things. It was good to know that wasn't the case.
But then, as his eyes dissected my expression, his smile faded and his
forehead creased.
"You're still waiting for the running and the screaming, aren't you?" I
guessed.
A faint smile touched his lips, and he nodded.
"I hate to burst your bubble, but you're really not as scary as you think
you are. I don't find you scary at all, actually," I lied casually.
He stopped, raising his eyebrows in blatant disbelief. Then he flashed a
wide, wicked smile.
"You really shouldn't have said that," he chuckled.
He growled, a low sound in the back of his throat; his lips curled back
over his perfect teeth. His body shifted suddenly, half-crouched, tensed
like a lion about to pounce.
I backed away from him, glaring.
"You wouldn't."
I didn't see him leap at me — it was much too fast. I only found myself
suddenly airborne, and then we crashed onto the sofa, knocking it into
the wall. All the while, his arms formed an iron cage of protection
around me — I was barely jostled. But I still was gasping as I tried to
right myself.
He wasn't having that. He curled me into a ball against his chest,
holding me more securely than iron chains. I glared at him in alarm, but
he seemed well in control, his jaw relaxed as he grinned, his eyes bright
only with humor.
"You were saying?" he growled playfully.
"That you are a very, very terrifying monster," I said, my sarcasm marred
a bit by my breathless voice.
"Much better," he approved.
"Um." I struggled. "Can I get up now?"
He just laughed.
"Can we come in?" a soft voice sounded from the hall.
I struggled to free myself, but Edward merely readjusted me so that I was
somewhat more conventionally seated on his lap. I could see it was Alice,
then, and Jasper behind her in the doorway. My cheeks burned, but Edward
seemed at ease.
"Go ahead." Edward was still chuckling quietly.
Alice seemed to find nothing unusual in our embrace; she walked — almost
danced, her movements were so graceful — to the center of the room, where
she folded herself sinuously onto the floor. Jasper, however, paused at
the door, his expression a trifle shocked. He stared at Edward's face,
and I wondered if he was tasting the atmosphere with his unusual
sensitivity.
"It sounded like you were having Bella for lunch, and we came to see if
you would share," Alice announced.
I stiffened for an instant, until I realized Edward was grinning —
whether at her comment or my response, I couldn't tell.
"Sorry, I don't believe I have enough to spare," he replied, his arms
holding me recklessly close.
"Actually," Jasper said, smiling despite himself as he walked into the
room, "Alice says there's going to be a real storm tonight, and Emmett
wants to play ball. Are you game?"
The words were all common enough, but the context confused me. I gathered
that Alice was a bit more reliable than the weatherman, though.
Edward's eyes lit up, but he hesitated.
"Of course you should bring Bella," Alice chirped. I thought I saw Jasper
throw a quick glance at her.
"Do you want to go?" Edward asked me, excited, his expression vivid.
"Sure." I couldn't disappoint such a face. "Um, where are we going?"
"We have to wait for thunder to play ball — you'll see why," he promised.
"Will I need an umbrella?"
They all three laughed aloud.
"Will she?" Jasper asked Alice.
"No." She was positive. "The storm will hit over town. It should be dry
enough in the clearing."
"Good, then." The enthusiasm in Jasper's voice was catching, naturally. I
found myself eager, rather than scared stiff.
"Let's go see if Carlisle will come." Alice bounded up and to the door in
a fashion that would break any ballerina's heart.
"Like you don't know," Jasper teased, and they were swiftly on their way.
Jasper managed to inconspicuously close the door behind them.
"What will we be playing?" I demanded.
"You will be watching," Edward clarified. "We will be playing baseball."
I rolled my eyes. "Vampires like baseball?"
"It's the American pastime," he said with mock solemnity.
===========================================================================

17. THE GAME
It was just beginning to drizzle when Edward turned onto my street. Up
until that moment, I'd had no doubt that he'd be staying with me while I
spent a few interim hours in the real world.
And then I saw the black car, a weathered Ford, parked in Charlie's
driveway — and heard Edward mutter something unintelligible in a low,
harsh voice.
Leaning away from the rain under the shallow front porch, Jacob Black
stood behind his father's wheelchair. Billy's face was impassive as stone
as Edward parked my truck against the curb. Jacob stared down, his
expression mortified.
Edward's low voice was furious. "This is crossing the line."
"He came to warn Charlie?" I guessed, more horrified than angry.
Edward just nodded, answering Billy's gaze through the rain with narrowed
eyes.
I felt weak with relief that Charlie wasn't home yet.
"Let me deal with this," I suggested. Edward's black glare made me
anxious.
To my surprise, he agreed. "That's probably best. Be careful, though. The
child has no idea."
I bridled a little at the word child. "Jacob is not that much younger
than I am," I reminded him.
He looked at me then, his anger abruptly fading. "Oh, I know," he assured
me with a grin.
I sighed and put my hand on the door handle.
"Get them inside," he instructed, "so I can leave. I'll be back around
dusk."
"Do you want my truck?" I offered, meanwhile wondering how I would
explain its absence to Charlie.
He rolled his eyes. "I could walk home faster than this truck moves."
"You don't have to leave," I said wistfully.
He smiled at my glum expression. "Actually, I do. After you get rid of
them" — he threw a dark glance in the Blacks' direction — "you still have
to prepare Charlie to meet your new boyfriend." He grinned widely,
showing all of his teeth.
I groaned. "Thanks a lot."
He smiled the crooked smile that I loved. "I'll be back soon," he
promised. His eyes flickered back to the porch, and then he leaned in to
swiftly kiss me just under the edge of my jaw. My heart lurched
frantically, and I, too, glanced toward the porch. Billy's face was no
longer impassive, and his hands clutched at the armrests of his chair.
"Soon," I stressed as I opened the door and stepped out into the rain.
I could feel his eyes on my back as I half-ran through the light sprinkle
toward the porch.
"Hey, Billy. Hi, Jacob." I greeted them as cheerfully as I could manage.
"Charlie's gone for the day — I hope you haven't been waiting long."
"Not long," Billy said in a subdued tone. His black eyes were piercing.
"I just wanted to bring this up." He indicated a brown paper sack resting
in his lap.
"Thanks," I said, though I had no idea what it could be. "Why don't you
come in for a minute and dry off?"
I pretended to be oblivious to his intense scrutiny as I unlocked the
door, and waved them in ahead of me.
"Here, let me take that," I offered, turning to shut the door. I allowed
myself one last glance at Edward. He was waiting, perfectly still, his
eyes solemn.
"You'll want to put it in the fridge," Billy noted as he handed me the
package. "It's some of Harry Clearwater's homemade fish fry — Charlie's
favorite. The fridge keeps it drier." He shrugged.
"Thanks," I repeated, but with feeling this time. "I was running out of
new ways to fix fish, and he's bound to bring home more tonight."
"Fishing again?" Billy asked with a subtle gleam in his eye. "Down at the
usual spot? Maybe I'll run by and see him."
"No," I quickly lied, my face going hard. "He was headed someplace new…
but I have no idea where."
He took in my changed expression, and it made him thoughtful.
"Jake," he said, still appraising me. "Why don't you go get that new
picture of Rebecca out of the car? I'll leave that for Charlie, too."
"Where is it?" Jacob asked, his voice morose. I glanced at him, but he
was staring at the floor, his eyebrows pulling together.
"I think I saw it in the trunk," Billy said. "You may have to dig for it."
Jacob slouched back out into the rain.
Billy and I faced each other in silence. After a few seconds, the quiet
started to feel awkward, so I turned and headed to the kitchen. I could
hear his wet wheels squeak against the linoleum as he followed.
I shoved the bag onto the crowded top shelf of the fridge, and spun
around to confront him. His deeply lined face was unreadable.
"Charlie won't be back for a long time." My voice was almost rude.
He nodded in agreement, but said nothing.
"Thanks again for the fish fry," I hinted.
He continued nodding. I sighed and folded my arms across my chest.
He seemed to sense that I had given up on small talk. "Bella," he said,
and then he hesitated.
I waited.
"Bella," he said again, "Charlie is one of my best friends."
"Yes."
He spoke each word carefully in his rumbling voice. "I noticed you've
been spending time with one of the Cullens."
"Yes," I repeated curtly.
His eyes narrowed. "Maybe it's none of my business, but I don't think
that is such a good idea."
"You're right," I agreed. "It is none of your business."
He raised his graying eyebrows at my tone. "You probably don't know this,
but the Cullen family has an unpleasant reputation on the reservation."
"Actually, I did know that," I informed him in a hard voice. This
surprised him. "But that reputation couldn't be deserved, could it?
Because the Cullens never set foot on the reservation, do they?" I could
see that my less than subtle reminder of the agreement that both bound
and protected his tribe pulled him up short.
"That's true," he acceded, his eyes guarded. "You seem… well informed
about the Cullens. More informed than I expected."
I stared him down. "Maybe even better informed than you are."
He pursed his thick lips as he considered that. "Maybe." he allowed, but
his eyes were shrewd. "Is Charlie as well informed?"
He had found the weak chink in my armor.
"Charlie likes the Cullens a lot," I hedged. He clearly understood my
evasion. His expression was unhappy, but unsurprised.
"It's not my business," he said. "But it may be Charlie's."
"Though it would be my business, again, whether or not I think that it's
Charlie's business, right?"
I wondered if he even understood my confused question as I struggled not
to say anything compromising. But he seemed to. He thought about it while
the rain picked up against the roof, the only sound breaking the silence.
"Yes," he finally surrendered. "I guess that's your business, too."
I sighed with relief. "Thanks, Billy."
"Just think about what you're doing, Bella," he urged.
"Okay," I agreed quickly.
He frowned. "What I meant to say was, don't do what you're doing."
I looked into his eyes, filled with nothing but concern for me, and there
was nothing I could say.
Just then the front door banged loudly, and I jumped at the sound.
"There's no picture anywhere in that car." Jacob's complaining voice
reached us before he did. The shoulders of his shirt were stained with
the rain, his hair dripping, when he rounded the corner.
"Hmm," Billy grunted, suddenly detached, spinning his chair around to
face his son. "I guess I left it at home."
Jacob rolled his eyes dramatically. "Great."
"Well, Bella, tell Charlie" — Billy paused before continuing — "that we
stopped by, I mean."
"I will," I muttered.
Jacob was surprised. "Are we leaving already?"
"Charlie's gonna be out late," Billy explained as he rolled himself past
Jacob.
"Oh." Jacob looked disappointed. "Well, I guess I'll see you later, then,
Bella."
"Sure," I agreed.
"Take care," Billy warned me. I didn't answer.
Jacob helped his father out the door. I waved briefly, glancing swiftly
toward my now-empty truck, and then shut the door before they were gone.
I stood in the hallway for a minute, listening to the sound of their car
as it backed out and drove away. I stayed where I was, waiting for the
irritation and anxiety to subside. When the tension eventually faded a
bit, I headed upstairs to change out of my dressy clothes.
I tried on a couple of different tops, not sure what to expect tonight.
As I concentrated on what was coming, what had just passed became
insignificant. Now that I was removed from Jasper's and Edward's
influence, I began to make up for not being terrified before. I gave up
quickly on choosing an outfit — throwing on an old flannel shirt and
jeans — knowing I would be in my raincoat all night anyway.
The phone rang and I sprinted downstairs to get it. There was only one
voice I wanted to hear; anything else would be a disappointment. But I
knew that if he wanted to talk to me, he'd probably just materialize in
my room.
"Hello?" I asked, breathless.
"Bella? It's me," Jessica said.
"Oh, hey, Jess." I scrambled for a moment to come back down to reality.
It felt like months rather than days since I'd spoken to Jess. "How was
the dance?"
"It was so much fun!" Jessica gushed. Needing no more invitation than
that, she launched into a minute-by-minute account of the previous night.
I mmm'd and ahh'd at the right places, but it wasn't easy to concentrate.
Jessica, Mike, the dance, the school — they all seemed strangely
irrelevant at the moment. My eyes kept flashing to the window, trying to
judge the degree of light behind the heavy clouds.
"Did you hear what I said, Bella?" Jess asked, irritated.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I said, Mike kissed me! Can you believe it?"
"That's wonderful, Jess," I said.
"So what did you do yesterday?" Jessica challenged, still sounding
bothered by my lack of attention. Or maybe she was upset because I hadn't
asked for details.
"Nothing, really. I just hung around outside to enjoy the sun."
I heard Charlie's car in the garage.
"Did you ever hear anything more from Edward Cullen?"
The front door slammed and I could hear Charlie banging around under the
stairs, putting his tackle away.
"Um." I hesitated, not sure what my story was anymore.
"Hi there, kiddo!" Charlie called as he walked into the kitchen. I waved
at him.
Jess heard his voice. "Oh, your dad's there. Never mind — we'll talk
tomorrow. See you in Trig."
"See ya, Jess." I hung up the phone.
"Hey, Dad," I said. He was scrubbing his hands in the sink. "Where's the
fish?"
"I put it out in the freezer."
"I'll go grab a few pieces before they freeze — Billy dropped off some of
Harry Clearwater's fish fry this afternoon." I worked to sound
enthusiastic.
"He did?" Charlie's eyes lit up. "That's my favorite."
Charlie cleaned up while I got dinner ready. It didn't take long till we
were sitting at the table, eating in silence. Charlie was enjoying his
food. I was wondering desperately how to fulfill my assignment,
struggling to think of a way to broach the subject.
"What did you do with yourself today?" he asked, snapping me out of my
reverie.
"Well, this afternoon I just hung out around the house…" Only the very
recent part of this afternoon, actually. I tried to keep my voice upbeat,
but my stomach was hollow. "And this morning I was over at the Cullens'."
Charlie dropped his fork.
"Dr. Cullen's place?" he asked in astonishment.
I pretended not to notice his reaction. "Yeah."
"What were you doing there?" He hadn't picked his fork back up.
"Well, I sort of have a date with Edward Cullen tonight, and he wanted to
introduce me to his parents… Dad?"
It appeared that Charlie was having an aneurysm.
"Dad, are you all right?"
"You are going out with Edward Cullen?" he thundered.
Uh-oh. "I thought you liked the Cullens."
"He's too old for you," he ranted.
"We're both juniors," I corrected, though he was more right than he
dreamed.
"Wait…" He paused. "Which one is Edwin?"
"Edward is the youngest, the one with the reddish brown hair." The
beautiful one, the godlike one…
"Oh, well, that's" — he struggled — "better, I guess. I don't like the
look of that big one. I'm sure he's a nice boy and all, but he looks too…
mature for you. Is this Edwin your boyfriend?"
"It's Edward, Dad."
"Is he?"
"Sort of, I guess."
"You said last night that you weren't interested in any of the boys in
town." But he picked up his fork again, so I could see the worst was over.
"Well, Edward doesn't live in town, Dad."
He gave me a disparaging look as he chewed.
"And, anyways," I continued, "it's kind of at an early stage, you know.
Don't embarrass me with all the boyfriend talk, okay?"
"When is he coming over?"
"He'll be here in a few minutes."
"Where is he taking you?"
I groaned loudly. "I hope you're getting the Spanish Inquisition out of
your system now. We're going to play baseball with his family."
His face puckered, and then he finally chuckled. "You're playing
baseball?"
"Well, I'll probably watch most of the time."
"You must really like this guy," he observed suspiciously.
I sighed and rolled my eyes for his benefit.
I heard the roar of an engine pull up in front of the house. I jumped up
and started cleaning my dishes.
"Leave the dishes, I can do them tonight. You baby me too much."
The doorbell rang, and Charlie stalked off to answer it. I was half a
step behind him.
I hadn't realized how hard it was pouring outside. Edward stood in the
halo of the porch light, looking like a male model in an advertisement
for raincoats.
"Come on in, Edward."
I breathed a sigh of relief when Charlie got his name right.
"Thanks, Chief Swan," Edward said in a respectful voice.
"Go ahead and call me Charlie. Here, I'll take your jacket."
"Thanks, sir."
"Have a seat there, Edward."
I grimaced.
Edward sat down fluidly in the only chair, forcing me to sit next to
Chief Swan on the sofa. I quickly shot him a dirty look. He winked behind
Charlie's back.
"So I hear you're getting my girl to watch baseball." Only in Washington
would the fact that it was raining buckets have no bearing at all on the
playing of outdoor sports.
"Yes, sir, that's the plan." He didn't look surprised that I'd told my
father the truth. He might have been listening, though.
"Well, more power to you, I guess."
Charlie laughed, and Edward joined in.
"Okay." I stood up. "Enough humor at my expense. Let's go." I walked back
to the hall and pulled on my jacket. They followed.
"Not too late, Bell."
"Don't worry, Charlie, I'll have her home early," Edward promised.
"You take care of my girl, all right?"
I groaned, but they ignored me.
"She'll be safe with me, I promise, sir."
Charlie couldn't doubt Edward's sincerity, it rang in every word.
I stalked out. They both laughed, and Edward followed me.
I stopped dead on the porch. There, behind my truck, was a monster Jeep.
Its tires were higher than my waist. There were metal guards over the
headlights and tail-lights, and four large spotlights attached to the
crash bar. The hardtop was shiny red.
Charlie let out a low whistle.
"Wear your seat belts," he choked out.
Edward followed me around to my side and opened the door. I gauged the
distance to the seat and prepared to jump for it. He sighed, and then
lifted me in with one hand. I hoped Charlie didn't notice.
As he went around to the driver's side, at a normal, human pace, I tried
to put on my seat belt. But there were too many buckles.
"What's all this?" I asked when he opened the door.
"It's an off-roading harness."
"Uh-oh."
I tried to find the right places for all the buckles to fit, but it
wasn't going too quickly. He sighed again and reached over to help me. I
was glad that the rain was too heavy to see Charlie clearly on the porch.
That meant he couldn't see how Edward's hands lingered at my neck,
brushed along my collarbones. I gave up trying to help him and focused on
not hyperventilating.
Edward turned the key and the engine roared to life. We pulled away from
the house.
"This is a… um… big Jeep you have."
"It's Emmett's. I didn't think you'd want to run the whole way."
"Where do you keep this thing?"
"We remodeled one of the outbuildings into a garage."
"Aren't you going to put on your seat belt?"
He threw me a disbelieving look.
Then something sunk in.
"Run the whole way? As in, we're still going to run part of the way?" My
voice edged up a few octaves.
He grinned tightly. "You're not going to run."
"I'm going to be sick."
"Keep your eyes closed, you'll be fine."
I bit my lip, fighting the panic.
He leaned over to kiss the top of my head, and then groaned. I looked at
him, puzzled.
"You smell so good in the rain," he explained.
"In a good way, or in a bad way?" I asked cautiously.
He sighed. "Both, always both."
I don't know how he found his way in the gloom and downpour, but he
somehow found a side road that was less of a road and more of a mountain
path. For a long while conversation was impossible, because I was
bouncing up and down on the seat like a jackhammer. He seemed to enjoy
the ride, though, smiling hugely the whole way.
And then we came to the end of the road; the trees formed green walls on
three sides of the Jeep. The rain was a mere drizzle, slowing every
second, the sky brighter through the clouds.
"Sorry, Bella, we have to go on foot from here."
"You know what? I'll just wait here."
"What happened to all your courage? You were extraordinary this morning."
"I haven't forgotten the last time yet." Could it have been only
yesterday?
He was around to my side of the car in a blur. He started unbuckling me.
"I'll get those, you go on ahead," I protested.
"Hmmm…" he mused as he quickly finished. "It seems I'm going to have to
tamper with your memory."
Before I could react, he pulled me from the Jeep and set my feet on the
ground. It was barely misting now; Alice was going to be right.
"Tamper with my memory?" I asked nervously.
"Something like that." He was watching me intently, carefully, but there
was humor deep in his eyes. He placed his hands against the Jeep on
either side of my head and leaned forward, forcing me to press back
against the door. He leaned in even closer, his face inches from mine. I
had no room to escape.
"Now," he breathed, and just his smell disturbed my thought processes,
"what exactly are you worrying about?"
"Well, um, hitting a tree —" I gulped "— and dying. And then getting
sick."
He fought back a smile. Then he bent his head down and touched his cold
lips softly to the hollow at the base of my throat.
"Are you still worried now?" he murmured against my skin.
"Yes." I struggled to concentrate. "About hitting trees and getting sick."
His nose drew a line up the skin of my throat to the point of my chin.
His cold breath tickled my skin.
"And now?" His lips whispered against my jaw.
"Trees," I gasped. "Motion sickness."
He lifted his face to kiss my eyelids. "Bella, you don't really think I
would hit a tree, do you?"
"No, but I might." There was no confidence in my voice. He smelled an
easy victory.
He kissed slowly down my cheek, stopping just at the corner of my mouth.
"Would I let a tree hurt you?" His lips barely brushed against my
trembling lower lip.
"No," I breathed. I knew there was a second part to my brilliant defense,
but I couldn't quite call it back.
"You see," he said, his lips moving against mine. "There's nothing to be
afraid of, is there?"
"No," I sighed, giving up.
Then he took my face in his hands almost roughly, and kissed me in
earnest, his unyielding lips moving against mine.
There really was no excuse for my behavior. Obviously I knew better by
now. And yet I couldn't seem to stop from reacting exactly as I had the
first time. Instead of keeping safely motionless, my arms reached up to
twine tightly around his neck, and I was suddenly welded to his stone
figure. I sighed, and my lips parted.
He staggered back, breaking my grip effortlessly.
"Damn it, Bella!" he broke off, gasping. "You'll be the death of me, I
swear you will."
I leaned over, bracing my hands against my knees for support.
"You're indestructible," I mumbled, trying to catch my breath.
"I might have believed that before I met you. Now let's get out of here
before I do something really stupid," he growled.
He threw me across his back as he had before, and I could see the extra
effort it took for him to be as gentle as he was. I locked my legs around
his waist and secured my arms in a choke hold around his neck.
"Don't forget to close your eyes," he warned severely.
I quickly tucked my face into his shoulder blade, under my own arm, and
squeezed my eyes shut.
And I could hardly tell we were moving. I could feel him gliding along
beneath me, but he could have been strolling down the sidewalk, the
movement was so smooth. I was tempted to peek, just to see if he was
really flying through the forest like before, but I resisted. It wasn't
worth that awful dizziness. I contented myself with listening to his
breath come and go evenly.
I wasn't quite sure we had stopped until he reached back and touched my
hair.
"It's over, Bella."
I dared to open my eyes, and, sure enough, we were at a standstill. I
stiffly unlocked my stranglehold on his body and slipped to the ground,
landing on my backside.
"Oh!" I huffed as I hit the wet ground.
He stared at me incredulously, evidently not sure whether he was still
too mad to find me funny. But my bewildered expression pushed him over
the edge, and he broke into a roar of laughter.
I picked myself up, ignoring him as I brushed the mud and bracken off the
back of my jacket. That only made him laugh harder. Annoyed, I began to
stride off into the forest.
I felt his arm around my waist.
"Where are you going, Bella?"
"To watch a baseball game. You don't seem to be interested in playing
anymore, but I'm sure the others will have fun without you."
"You're going the wrong way."
I turned around without looking at him, and stalked off in the opposite
direction. He caught me again.
"Don't be mad, I couldn't help myself. You should have seen your face."
He chuckled before he could stop himself.
"Oh, you're the only one who's allowed to get mad?" I asked, raising my
eyebrows.
"I wasn't mad at you."
"'Bella, you'll be the death of me'?" I quoted sourly.
"That was simply a statement of fact."
I tried to turn away from him again, but he held me fast.
"You were mad," I insisted.
"Yes."
"But you just said —"
"That I wasn't mad at you. Can't you see that, Bella?" He was suddenly
intense, all trace of teasing gone. "Don't you understand?"
"See what?" I demanded, confused by his sudden mood swing as much as his
words.
"I'm never angry with you — how could I be? Brave, trusting… warm as you
are."
"Then why?" I whispered, remembering the black moods that pulled him away
from me, that I'd always interpreted as well-justified frustration —
frustration at my weakness, my slowness, my unruly human reactions…
He put his hands carefully on both sides of my face. "I infuriate
myself," he said gently. "The way I can't seem to keep from putting you
in danger. My very existence puts you at risk. Sometimes I truly hate
myself. I should be stronger, I should be able to —"
I placed my hand over his mouth. "Don't."
He took my hand, moving it from his lips, but holding it to his face.
"I love you," he said. "It's a poor excuse for what I'm doing, but it's
still true."
It was the first time he'd said he loved me — in so many words. He might
not realize it, but I certainly did.
"Now, please try to behave yourself," he continued, and he bent to softly
brush his lips against mine.
I held properly still. Then I sighed.
"You promised Chief Swan that you would have me home early, remember?
We'd better get going."
"Yes, ma'am."
He smiled wistfully and released all of me but one hand. He led me a few
feet through the tall, wet ferns and draping moss, around a massive
hemlock tree, and we were there, on the edge of an enormous open field in
the lap of the Olympic peaks. It was twice the size of any baseball
stadium.
I could see the others all there; Esme, Emmett, and Rosalie, sitting on a
bare outcropping of rock, were the closest to us, maybe a hundred yards
away. Much farther out I could see Jasper and Alice, at least a quarter
of a mile apart, appearing to throw something back and forth, but I never
saw any ball. It looked like Carlisle was marking bases, but could they
really be that far apart?
When we came into view, the three on the rocks rose.
Esme started toward us. Emmett followed after a long look at Rosalie's
back; Rosalie had risen gracefully and strode off toward the field
without a glance in our direction. My stomach quivered uneasily in
response.
"Was that you we heard, Edward?" Esme asked as she approached.
"It sounded like a bear choking," Emmett clarified.
I smiled hesitantly at Esme. "That was him."
"Bella was being unintentionally funny," Edward explained, quickly
settling the score.
Alice had left her position and was running, or dancing, toward us. She
hurtled to a fluid stop at our feet. "It's time," she announced.
As soon as she spoke, a deep rumble of thunder shook the forest beyond
us, and then crashed westward toward town.
"Eerie, isn't it?" Emmett said with easy familiarity, winking at me.
"Let's go." Alice reached for Emmett's hand and they darted toward the
oversized field; she ran like a gazelle. He was nearly as graceful and
just as fast — yet Emmett could never be compared to a gazelle.
"Are you ready for some ball?" Edward asked, his eyes eager, bright.
I tried to sound appropriately enthusiastic. "Go team!"
He snickered and, after mussing my hair, bounded off after the other two.
His run was more aggressive, a cheetah rather than a gazelle, and he
quickly overtook them. The grace and power took my breath away.
"Shall we go down?" Esme asked in her soft, melodic voice, and I realized
I was staring openmouthed after him. I quickly reassembled my expression
and nodded. Esme kept a few feet between us, and I wondered if she was
still being careful not to frighten me. She matched her stride to mine
without seeming impatient at the pace.
"You don't play with them?" I asked shyly.
"No, I prefer to referee — I like keeping them honest," she explained.
"Do they like to cheat, then?"
"Oh yes — you should hear the arguments they get into! Actually, I hope
you don't, you would think they were raised by a pack of wolves."
"You sound like my mom," I laughed, surprised.
She laughed, too. "Well, I do think of them as my children in most ways.
I never could get over my mothering instincts — did Edward tell you I had
lost a child?"
"No," I murmured, stunned, scrambling to understand what lifetime she was
remembering.
"Yes, my first and only baby. He died just a few days after he was born,
the poor tiny thing," she sighed. "It broke my heart — that's why I
jumped off the cliff, you know," she added matter-of-factly.
"Edward just said you f-fell," I stammered.
"Always the gentleman." She smiled. "Edward was the first of my new sons.
I've always thought of him that way, even though he's older than I, in
one way at least." She smiled at me warmly. "That's why I'm so happy that
he's found you, dear." The endearment sounded very natural on her lips.
"He's been the odd man out for far too long; it's hurt me to see him
alone."
"You don't mind, then?" I asked, hesitant again. "That I'm… all wrong for
him?"
"No." She was thoughtful. "You're what he wants. It will work out,
somehow," she said, though her forehead creased with worry. Another peal
of thunder began.
Esme stopped then; apparently, we'd reached the edge of the field. It
looked as if they had formed teams. Edward was far out in left field,
Carlisle stood between the first and second bases, and Alice held the
ball, positioned on the spot that must be the pitcher's mound.
Emmett was swinging an aluminum bat; it whistled almost untraceably
through the air. I waited for him to approach home plate, but then I
realized, as he took his stance, that he was already there — farther from
the pitcher's mound than I would have thought possible. Jasper stood
several feet behind him, catching for the other team. Of course, none of
them had gloves.
"All right," Esme called in a clear voice, which I knew even Edward would
hear, as far out as he was. "Batter up."
Alice stood straight, deceptively motionless. Her style seemed to be
stealth rather than an intimidating windup. She held the ball in both
hands at her waist, and then, like the strike of a cobra, her right hand
flicked out and the ball smacked into Jasper's hand.
"Was that a strike?" I whispered to Esme.
"If they don't hit it, it's a strike," she told me.
Jasper hurled the ball back to Alice's waiting hand. She permitted
herself a brief grin. And then her hand spun out again.
This time the bat somehow made it around in time to smash into the
invisible ball. The crack of impact was shattering, thunderous; it echoed
off the mountains — I immediately understood the necessity of the
thunderstorm.
The ball shot like a meteor above the field, flying deep into the
surrounding forest.
"Home run," I murmured.
"Wait," Esme cautioned, listening intently, one hand raised. Emmett was a
blur around the bases, Carlisle shadowing him. I realized Edward was
missing.
"Out!" Esme cried in a clear voice. I stared in disbelief as Edward
sprang from the fringe of the trees, ball in his upraised hand, his wide
grin visible even to me.
"Emmett hits the hardest," Esme explained, "but Edward runs the fastest."
The inning continued before my incredulous eyes. It was impossible to
keep up with the speed at which the ball flew, the rate at which their
bodies raced around the field.
I learned the other reason they waited for a thunderstorm to play when
Jasper, trying to avoid Edward's infallible fielding, hit a ground ball
toward Carlisle. Carlisle ran into the ball, and then raced Jasper to
first base. When they collided, the sound was like the crash of two
massive falling boulders. I jumped up in concern, but they were somehow
unscathed.
"Safe," Esme called in a calm voice.
Emmett's team was up by one — Rosalie managed to flit around the bases
after tagging up on one of Emmett's long flies — when Edward caught the
third out. He sprinted to my side, sparkling with excitement.
"What do you think?" he asked.
"One thing's for sure, I'll never be able to sit through dull old Major
League Baseball again."
"And it sounds like you did so much of that before," he laughed.
"I am a little disappointed," I teased.
"Why?" he asked, puzzled.
"Well, it would be nice if I could find just one thing you didn't do
better than everyone else on the planet."
He flashed his special crooked smile, leaving me breathless.
"I'm up," he said, heading for the plate.
He played intelligently, keeping the ball low, out of the reach of
Rosalie's always-ready hand in the outfield, gaining two bases like
lightning before Emmett could get the ball back in play. Carlisle knocked
one so far out of the field — with a boom that hurt my ears — that he and
Edward both made it in. Alice slapped them dainty high fives.
The score constantly changed as the game continued, and they razzed each
other like any street ballplayers as they took turns with the lead.
Occasionally Esme would call them to order. The thunder rumbled on, but
we stayed dry, as Alice had predicted.
Carlisle was up to bat, Edward catching, when Alice suddenly gasped. My
eyes were on Edward, as usual, and I saw his head snap up to look at her.
Their eyes met and something flowed between them in an instant. He was at
my side before the others could ask Alice what was wrong.
"Alice?" Esme's voice was tense.
"I didn't see — I couldn't tell," she whispered.
All the others were gathered by this time.
"What is it, Alice?" Carlisle asked with the calm voice of authority.
"They were traveling much quicker than I thought. I can see I had the
perspective wrong before," she murmured.
Jasper leaned over her, his posture protective. "What changed?" he asked.
"They heard us playing, and it changed their path," she said, contrite,
as if she felt responsible for whatever had frightened her.
Seven pairs of quick eyes flashed to my face and away.
"How soon?" Carlisle said, turning toward Edward.
A look of intense concentration crossed his face.
"Less than five minutes. They're running — they want to play." He scowled.
"Can you make it?" Carlisle asked him, his eyes flicking toward me again.
"No, not carrying —" He cut short. "Besides, the last thing we need is
for them to catch the scent and start hunting."
"How many?" Emmett asked Alice.
"Three," she answered tersely.
"Three!" he scoffed. "Let them come." The steel bands of muscle flexed
along his massive arms.
For a split second that seemed much longer than it really was, Carlisle
deliberated. Only Emmett seemed unperturbed; the rest stared at
Carlisle's face with anxious eyes.
"Let's just continue the game," Carlisle finally decided. His voice was
cool and level. "Alice said they were simply curious."
All this was said in a flurry of words that lasted only a few seconds. I
had listened carefully and caught most of it, though I couldn't hear what
Esme now asked Edward with a silent vibration of her lips. I only saw the
slight shake of his head and the look of relief on her face.
"You catch, Esme," he said. "I'll call it now." And he planted himself in
front of me.
The others returned to the field, warily sweeping the dark forest with
their sharp eyes. Alice and Esme seemed to orient themselves around where
I stood.
"Take your hair down," Edward said in a low, even voice.
I obediently slid the rubber band out of my hair and shook it out around
me.
I stated the obvious. "The others are coming now."
"Yes, stay very still, keep quiet, and don't move from my side, please."
He hid the stress in his voice well, but I could hear it. He pulled my
long hair forward, around my face.
"That won't help," Alice said softly. "I could smell her across the
field."
"I know." A hint of frustration colored his tone.
Carlisle stood at the plate, and the others joined the game halfheartedly.
"What did Esme ask you?" I whispered.
He hesitated for a second before he answered. "Whether they were
thirsty," he muttered unwillingly.
The seconds ticked by; the game progressed with apathy now. No one dared
to hit harder than a bunt, and Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper hovered in the
infield. Now and again, despite the fear that numbed my brain, I was
aware of Rosalie's eyes on me. They were expressionless, but something
about the way she held her mouth made me think she was angry.
Edward paid no attention to the game at all, eyes and mind ranging the
forest.
"I'm sorry, Bella," he muttered fiercely. "It was stupid, irresponsible,
to expose you like this. I'm so sorry."
I heard his breath stop, and his eyes zeroed in on right field. He took a
half step, angling himself between me and what was coming.
Carlisle, Emmett, and the others turned in the same direction, hearing
sounds of passage much too faint for my ears.
===========================================================================

18. THE HUNT
They emerged one by one from the forest edge, ranging a dozen meters
apart. The first male into the clearing fell back immediately, allowing
the other male to take the front, orienting himself around the tall,
dark-haired man in a manner that clearly displayed who led the pack. The
third was a woman; from this distance, all I could see of her was that
her hair was a startling shade of red.
They closed ranks before they continued cautiously toward Edward's
family, exhibiting the natural respect of a troop of predators as it
encounters a larger, unfamiliar group of its own kind.
As they approached, I could see how different they were from the Cullens.
Their walk was catlike, a gait that seemed constantly on the edge of
shifting into a crouch. They dressed in the ordinary gear of backpackers:
jeans and casual button-down shirts in heavy, weatherproof fabrics. The
clothes were frayed, though, with wear, and they were barefoot. Both men
had cropped hair, but the woman's brilliant orange hair was filled with
leaves and debris from the woods.
Their sharp eyes carefully took in the more polished, urbane stance of
Carlisle, who, flanked by Emmett and Jasper, stepped guardedly forward to
meet them. Without any seeming communication between them, they each
straightened into a more casual, erect bearing.
The man in front was easily the most beautiful, his skin olive-toned
beneath the typical pallor, his hair a glossy black. He was of a medium
build, hard-muscled, of course, but nothing next to Emmett's brawn. He
smiled an easy smile, exposing a flash of gleaming white teeth.
The woman was wilder, her eyes shifting restlessly between the men facing
her, and the loose grouping around me, her chaotic hair quivering in the
slight breeze. Her posture was distinctly feline. The second male hovered
unobtrusively behind them, slighter than the leader, his light brown hair
and regular features both nondescript. His eyes, though completely still,
somehow seemed the most vigilant.
Their eyes were different, too. Not the gold or black I had come to
expect, but a deep burgundy color that was disturbing and sinister.
The dark-haired man, still smiling, stepped toward Carlisle.
"We thought we heard a game," he said in a relaxed voice with the
slightest of French accents. "I'm Laurent, these are Victoria and James."
He gestured to the vampires beside him.
"I'm Carlisle. This is my family, Emmett and Jasper, Rosalie, Esme and
Alice, Edward and Bella." He pointed us out in groups, deliberately not
calling attention to individuals. I felt a shock when he said my name.
"Do you have room for a few more players?" Laurent asked sociably.
Carlisle matched Laurent's friendly tone. "Actually, we were just
finishing up. But we'd certainly be interested another time. Are you
planning to stay in the area for long?"
"We're headed north, in fact, but we were curious to see who was in the
neighborhood. We haven't run into any company in a long time."
"No, this region is usually empty except for us and the occasional
visitor, like yourselves."
The tense atmosphere had slowly subsided into a casual conversation; I
guessed that Jasper was using his peculiar gift to control the situation.
"What's your hunting range?" Laurent casually inquired.
Carlisle ignored the assumption behind the inquiry. "The Olympic Range
here, up and down the Coast Ranges on occasion. We keep a permanent
residence nearby. There's another permanent settlement like ours up near
Denali."
Laurent rocked back on his heels slightly.
"Permanent? How do you manage that?" There was honest curiosity in his
voice.
"Why don't you come back to our home with us and we can talk
comfortably?" Carlisle invited. "It's a rather long story."
James and Victoria exchanged a surprised look at the mention of the word
"home," but Laurent controlled his expression better.
"That sounds very interesting, and welcome." His smile was genial. "We've
been on the hunt all the way down from Ontario, and we haven't had the
chance to clean up in a while." His eyes moved appreciatively over
Carlisle's refined appearance.
"Please don't take offense, but we'd appreciate it if you'd refrain from
hunting in this immediate area. We have to stay inconspicuous, you
understand," Carlisle explained.
"Of course." Laurent nodded. "We certainly won't encroach on your
territory. We just ate outside of Seattle, anyway," he laughed. A shiver
ran up my spine.
"We'll show you the way if you'd like to run with us — Emmett and Alice,
you can go with Edward and Bella to get the Jeep," he casually added.
Three things seemed to happen simultaneously while Carlisle was speaking.
My hair ruffled with the light breeze, Edward stiffened, and the second
male, James, suddenly whipped his head around, scrutinizing me, his
nostrils flaring.
A swift rigidity fell on all of them as James lurched one step forward
into a crouch. Edward bared his teeth, crouching in defense, a feral
snarl ripping from his throat.
It was nothing like the playful sounds I'd heard from him this morning;
it was the single most menacing thing I had ever heard, and chills ran
from the crown of my head to the back of my heels.
"What's this?" Laurent exclaimed in open surprise. Neither James nor
Edward relaxed their aggressive poses. James feinted slightly to the
side, and Edward shifted in response.
"She's with us." Carlisle's firm rebuff was directed toward James.
Laurent seemed to catch my scent less powerfully than James, but
awareness now dawned on his face.
"You brought a snack?" he asked, his expression incredulous as he took an
involuntary step forward.
Edward snarled even more ferociously, harshly, his lip curling high above
his glistening, bared teeth. Laurent stepped back again.
"I said she's with us," Carlisle corrected in a hard voice.
"But she's human," Laurent protested. The words were not at all
aggressive, merely astounded.
"Yes." Emmett was very much in evidence at Carlisle's side, his eyes on
James. James slowly straightened out of his crouch, but his eyes never
left me, his nostrils still wide. Edward stayed tensed like a lion in
front of me.
When Laurent spoke, his tone was soothing — trying to defuse the sudden
hostility. "It appears we have a lot to learn about each other."
"Indeed." Carlisle's voice was still cool.
"But we'd like to accept your invitation." His eyes flicked toward me and
back to Carlisle. "And, of course, we will not harm the human girl. We
won't hunt in your range, as I said."
James glanced in disbelief and aggravation at Laurent and exchanged
another brief look with Victoria, whose eyes still flickered edgily from
face to face.
Carlisle measured Laurent's open expression for a moment before he spoke.
"We'll show you the way. Jasper, Rosalie, Esme?" he called. They gathered
together, blocking me from view as they converged. Alice was instantly at
my side, and Emmett fell back slowly, his eyes locked on James as he
backed toward us.
"Let's go, Bella." Edward's voice was low and bleak.
This whole time I'd been rooted in place, terrified into absolute
immobility. Edward had to grip my elbow and pull sharply to break my
trance. Alice and Emmett were close behind us, hiding me. I stumbled
alongside Edward, still stunned with fear. I couldn't hear if the main
group had left yet. Edward's impatience was almost tangible as we moved
at human speed to the forest edge.
Once we were into the trees, Edward slung me over his back without
breaking stride. I gripped as tightly as possible as he took off, the
others close on his heels. I kept my head down, but my eyes, wide with
fright, wouldn't close. They plunged through the now-black forest like
wraiths. The sense of exhilaration that usually seemed to possess Edward
as he ran was completely absent, replaced by a fury that consumed him and
drove him still faster. Even with me on his back, the others trailed
behind.
We reached the Jeep in an impossibly short time, and Edward barely slowed
as he flung me in the backseat.
"Strap her in," he ordered Emmett, who slid in beside me.
Alice was already in the front seat, and Edward was starting the engine.
It roared to life and we swerved backward, spinning around to face the
winding road.
Edward was growling something too fast for me to understand, but it
sounded a lot like a string of profanities.
The jolting trip was much worse this time, and the darkness only made it
more frightening. Emmett and Alice both glared out the side windows.
We hit the main road, and though our speed increased, I could see much
better where we were going. And we were headed south, away from Forks.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
No one answered. No one even looked at me.
"Dammit, Edward! Where are you taking me?"
"We have to get you away from here — far away — now." He didn't look
back, his eyes on the road. The speedometer read a hundred and five miles
an hour.
"Turn around! You have to take me home!" I shouted. I struggled with the
stupid harness, tearing at the straps.
"Emmett," Edward said grimly.
And Emmett secured my hands in his steely grasp.
"No! Edward! No, you can't do this."
"I have to, Bella, now please be quiet."
"I won't! You have to take me back — Charlie will call the FBI! They'll
be all over your family — Carlisle and Esme! They'll have to leave, to
hide forever!"
"Calm down, Bella." His voice was cold. "We've been there before."
"Not over me, you don't! You're not ruining everything over me!" I
struggled violently, with total futility.
Alice spoke for the first time. "Edward, pull over."
He flashed her a hard look, and then sped up.
"Edward, let's just talk this through."
"You don't understand," he roared in frustration. I'd never heard his
voice so loud; it was deafening in the confines of the Jeep. The
speedometer neared one hundred and fifteen. "He's a tracker, Alice, did
you see that? He's a tracker!"
I felt Emmett stiffen next to me, and I wondered at his reaction to the
word. It meant something more to the three of them than it did to me; I
wanted to understand, but there was no opening for me to ask.
"Pull over, Edward." Alice's tone was reasonable, but there was a ring of
authority in it I'd never heard before.
The speedometer inched passed one-twenty.
"Do it, Edward."
"Listen to me, Alice. I saw his mind. Tracking is his passion, his
obsession — and he wants her, Alice — her, specifically. He begins the
hunt tonight."
"He doesn't know where —"
He interrupted her. "How long do you think it will take him to cross her
scent in town? His plan was already set before the words were out of
Laurent's mouth."
I gasped, knowing where my scent would lead. "Charlie! You can't leave
him there! You can't leave him!" I thrashed against the harness.
"She's right," Alice said.
The car slowed slightly.
"Let's just look at our options for a minute," Alice coaxed.
The car slowed again, more noticeably, and then suddenly we screeched to
a stop on the shoulder of the highway. I flew against the harness, and
then slammed back into the seat.
"There are no options," Edward hissed.
"I'm not leaving Charlie!" I yelled.
He ignored me completely.
"We have to take her back," Emmett finally spoke.
"No." Edward was absolute.
"He's no match for us, Edward. He won't be able to touch her."
"He'll wait."
Emmett smiled. "I can wait, too."
"You didn't see — you don't understand. Once he commits to a hunt, he's
unshakable. We'd have to kill him."
Emmett didn't seem upset by the idea. "That's an option."
"And the female. She's with him. If it turns into a fight, the leader
will go with them, too."
"There are enough of us."
"There's another option," Alice said quietly.
Edward turned on her in fury, his voice a blistering snarl. "There — is —
no — other — option!"
Emmett and I both stared at him in shock, but Alice seemed unsurprised.
The silence lasted for a long minute as Edward and Alice stared each
other down.
I broke it. "Does anyone want to hear my plan?"
"No," Edward growled. Alice glared at him, finally provoked.
"Listen," I pleaded. "You take me back."
"No," he interrupted.
I glared at him and continued. "You take me back. I tell my dad I want to
go home to Phoenix. I pack my bags. We wait till this tracker is
watching, and then we run. He'll follow us and leave Charlie alone.
Charlie won't call the FBI on your family. Then you can take me any
damned place you want."
They stared at me, stunned.
"It's not a bad idea, really." Emmett's surprise was definitely an insult.
"It might work — and we simply can't leave her father unprotected. You
know that," Alice said.
Everyone looked at Edward.
"It's too dangerous — I don't want him within a hundred miles of her."
Emmett was supremely confident. "Edward, he's not getting through us."
Alice thought for a minute. "I don't see him attacking. He'll try to wait
for us to leave her alone."
"It won't take long for him to realize that's not going to happen."
"I demand that you take me home." I tried to sound firm.
Edward pressed his fingers to his temples and squeezed his eyes shut.
"Please," I said in a much smaller voice.
He didn't look up. When he spoke, his voice sounded worn.
"You're leaving tonight, whether the tracker sees or not. You tell
Charlie that you can't stand another minute in Forks. Tell him whatever
story works. Pack the first things your hands touch, and then get in your
truck. I don't care what he says to you. You have fifteen minutes. Do you
hear me? Fifteen minutes from the time you cross the doorstep."
The Jeep rumbled to life, and he spun us around, the tires squealing. The
needle on the speedometer started to race up the dial.
"Emmett?" I asked, looking pointedly at my hands.
"Oh, sorry." He let me loose.
A few minutes passed in silence, other than the roar of the engine. Then
Edward spoke again.
"This is how it's going to happen. When we get to the house, if the
tracker is not there, I will walk her to the door. Then she has fifteen
minutes." He glared at me in the rearview mirror. "Emmett, you take the
outside of the house. Alice, you get the truck. I'll be inside as long as
she is. After she's out, you two can take the Jeep home and tell
Carlisle."
"No way," Emmett broke in. "I'm with you."
"Think it through, Emmett. I don't know how long I'll be gone."
"Until we know how far this is going to go, I'm with you."
Edward sighed. "If the tracker is there," he continued grimly, "we keep
driving."
"We're going to make it there before him," Alice said confidently.
Edward seemed to accept that. Whatever his problem with Alice was, he
didn't doubt her now.
"What are we going to do with the Jeep?" she asked.
His voice had a hard edge. "You're driving it home."
"No, I'm not," she said calmly.
The unintelligible stream of profanities started again.
"We can't all fit in my truck," I whispered.
Edward didn't appear to hear me.
"I think you should let me go alone," I said even more quietly.
He heard that.
"Bella, please just do this my way, just this once," he said between
clenched teeth.
"Listen, Charlie's not an imbecile," I protested. "If you're not in town
tomorrow, he's going to get suspicious."
"That's irrelevant. We'll make sure he's safe, and that's all that
matters."
"Then what about this tracker? He saw the way you acted tonight. He's
going to think you're with me, wherever you are."
Emmett looked at me, insultingly surprised again. "Edward, listen to
her," he urged. "I think she's right."
"Yes, she is," Alice agreed.
"I can't do that." Edward's voice was icy.
"Emmett should stay, too," I continued. "He definitely got an eyeful of
Emmett."
"What?" Emmett turned on me.
"You'll get a better crack at him if you stay," Alice agreed.
Edward stared at her incredulously. "You think I should let her go alone?"
"Of course not," Alice said. "Jasper and I will take her."
"I can't do that," Edward repeated, but this time there was a trace of
defeat in his voice. The logic was working on him.
I tried to be persuasive. "Hang out here for a week —" I saw his
expression in the mirror and amended "— a few days. Let Charlie see you
haven't kidnapped me, and lead this James on a wild-goose chase. Make
sure he's completely off my trail. Then come and meet me. Take a
roundabout route, of course, and then Jasper and Alice can go home."
I could see him beginning to consider it.
"Meet you where?"
"Phoenix." Of course.
"No. He'll hear that's where you're going," he said impatiently.
"And you'll make it look like that's a ruse, obviously. He'll know that
we'll know that he's listening. He'll never believe I'm actually going
where I say I am going."
"She's diabolical," Emmett chuckled.
"And if that doesn't work?"
"There are several million people in Phoenix," I informed him.
"It's not that hard to find a phone book."
"I won't go home."
"Oh?" he inquired, a dangerous note in his voice.
"I'm quite old enough to get my own place."
"Edward, we'll be with her," Alice reminded him.
"What are you going to do in Phoenix?" he asked her scathingly.
"Stay indoors."
"I kind of like it." Emmett was thinking about cornering James, no doubt.
"Shut up, Emmett."
"Look, if we try to take him down while she's still around, there's a
much better chance that someone will get hurt — she'll get hurt, or you
will, trying to protect her. Now, if we get him alone…" He trailed off
with a slow smile. I was right.
The Jeep was crawling slowly along now as we drove into town. Despite my
brave talk, I could feel the hairs on my arms standing up. I thought
about Charlie, alone in the house, and tried to be courageous.
"Bella." Edward's voice was very soft. Alice and Emmett looked out their
windows. "If you let anything happen to yourself— anything at all — I'm
holding you personally responsible. Do you understand that?"
"Yes," I gulped.
He turned to Alice.
"Can Jasper handle this?"
"Give him some credit, Edward. He's been doing very, very well, all
things considered."
"Can you handle this?" he asked.
And graceful little Alice pulled back her lips in a horrific grimace and
let loose with a guttural snarl that had me cowering against the seat in
terror.
Edward smiled at her. "But keep your opinions to yourself," he muttered
suddenly.
===========================================================================

19. GOODBYES
Charlie was waiting up for me. All the house lights were on. My mind was
blank as I tried to think of a way to make him let me go. This wasn't
going to be pleasant.
Edward pulled up slowly, staying well back from my truck. All three of
them were acutely alert, ramrod straight in their seats, listening to
every sound of the wood, looking through every shadow, catching every
scent, searching for something out of place. The engine cut off, and I
sat, motionless, as they continued to listen.
"He's not here," Edward said tensely. "Let's go." Emmett reached over to
help me get out of the harness.
"Don't worry, Bella," he said in a low but cheerful voice, "we'll take
care of things here quickly."
I felt moisture filling up my eyes as I looked at Emmett. I barely knew
him, and yet, somehow, not knowing when I would see him again after
tonight was anguishing. I knew this was just a faint taste of the
goodbyes I would have to survive in the next hour, and the thought made
the tears begin to spill.
"Alice, Emmett." Edward's voice was a command. They slithered soundlessly
into the darkness, instantly disappearing. Edward opened my door and took
my hand, then drew me into the protecting enclosure of his arm. He walked
me swiftly toward the house, eyes always roving through the night.
"Fifteen minutes," he warned under his breath.
"I can do this." I sniffled. My tears had given me an inspiration.
I stopped on the porch and took hold of his face in my hands. I looked
fiercely into his eyes.
"I love you," I said in a low, intense voice. "I will always love you, no
matter what happens now."
"Nothing is going to happen to you, Bella," he said just as fiercely.
"Just follow the plan, okay? Keep Charlie safe for me. He's not going to
like me very much after this, and I want to have the chance to apologize
later."
"Get inside, Bella. We have to hurry." His voice was urgent.
"One more thing," I whispered passionately. "Don't listen to another word
I say tonight!" He was leaning in, and so all I had to do was stretch up
on my toes to kiss his surprised, frozen lips with as much force as I was
capable of. Then I turned and kicked the door open.
"Go away, Edward!" I yelled at him, running inside and slamming the door
shut in his still-shocked face.
"Bella?" Charlie had been hovering in the living room, and he was already
on his feet.
"Leave me alone!" I screamed at him through my tears, which were flowing
relentlessly now. I ran up the stairs to my room, throwing the door shut
and locking it. I ran to my bed, flinging myself on the floor to retrieve
my duffel bag. I reached swiftly between the mattress and box spring to
grab the knotted old sock that contained my secret cash hoard.
Charlie was pounding on my door.
"Bella, are you okay? What's going on?" His voice was frightened.
"I'm going borne," I shouted, my voice breaking in the perfect spot.
"Did he hurt you?" His tone edged toward anger.
"No!" I shrieked a few octaves higher. I turned to my dresser, and Edward
was already there, silently yanking out armfuls of random clothes, which
he proceeded to throw to me.
"Did he break up with you?" Charlie was perplexed.
"No!" I yelled, slightly more breathless as I shoved everything into the
bag. Edward threw another drawer's contents at me. The bag was pretty
much full now.
"What happened, Bella?" Charlie shouted through the door, pounding again.
"I broke up with him!" I shouted back, jerking on the zipper of my bag.
Edward's capable hands pushed mine away and zipped it smoothly. He put
the strap carefully over my arm.
"I'll be in the truck — go!" he whispered, and pushed me toward the door.
He vanished out the window.
I unlocked the door and pushed past Charlie roughly, struggling with my
heavy bag as I ran down the stairs.
"What happened?" he yelled. He was right behind me. "I thought you liked
him."
He caught my elbow in the kitchen. Though he was still bewildered, his
grip was firm.
He spun me around to look at him, and I could see in his face that he had
no intention of letting me leave. I could think of only one way to
escape, and it involved hurting him so much that I hated myself for even
considering it. But I had no time, and I had to keep him safe.
I glared up at my father, fresh tears in my eyes for what I was about to
do.
"I do like him — that's the problem. I can't do this anymore! I can't put
down any more roots here! I don't want to end up trapped in this stupid,
boring town like Mom! I'm not going to make the same dumb mistake she
did. I hate it — I can't stay here another minute!"
His hand dropped from my arm like I'd electrocuted him. I turned away
from his shocked, wounded face and headed for the door.
"Bells, you can't leave now. It's nighttime," he whispered behind me.
I didn't turn around. "I'll sleep in the truck if I get tired."
"Just wait another week," he pled, still shell-shocked. "Renée will be
back by then."
This completely derailed me. "What?"
Charlie continued eagerly, almost babbling with relief as I hesitated.
"She called while you were out. Things aren't going so well in Florida,
and if Phil doesn't get signed by the end of the week, they're going back
to Arizona. The assistant coach of the Sidewinders said they might have a
spot for another shortstop."
I shook my head, trying to reassemble my now-confused thoughts. Every
passing second put Charlie in more danger.
"I have a key," I muttered, turning the knob. He was too close, one hand
extended toward me, his face dazed. I couldn't lose any more time arguing
with him. I was going to have to hurt him further.
"Just let me go, Charlie." I repeated my mother's last words as she'd
walked out this same door so many years ago. I said them as angrily as I
could manage, and I threw the door open. "It didn't work out, okay? I
really, really hate Forks!"
My cruel words did their job — Charlie stayed frozen on the doorstep,
stunned, while I ran into the night. I was hideously frightened of the
empty yard. I ran wildly for the truck, visualizing a dark shadow behind
me. I threw my bag in the bed and wrenched the door open. The key was
waiting in the ignition.
"I'll call you tomorrow!" I yelled, wishing more than anything that I
could explain everything to him right then, knowing I would never be able
to. I gunned the engine and peeled out.
Edward reached for my hand.
"Pull over," he said as the house, and Charlie, disappeared behind us.
"I can drive," I said through the tears pouring down my cheeks.
His long hands unexpectedly gripped my waist, and his foot pushed mine
off the gas pedal. He pulled me across his lap, wrenching my hands free
of the wheel, and suddenly he was in the driver's seat. The truck didn't
swerve an inch.
"You wouldn't be able to find the house," he explained.
Lights flared suddenly behind us. I stared out the back window, eyes wide
with horror.
"It's just Alice," he reassured me. He took my hand again.
My mind was filled with the image of Charlie in the doorway. "The
tracker?"
"He heard the end of your performance," Edward said grimly.
"Charlie?" I asked in dread.
"The tracker followed us. He's running behind us now."
My body went cold.
"Can we outrun him?"
"No." But he sped up as he spoke. The truck's engine whined in protest.
My plan suddenly didn't feel so brilliant anymore.
I was staring back at Alice's headlights when the truck shuddered and a
dark shadow sprung up outside the window.
My bloodcurdling scream lasted a fraction of a second before Edward's
hand clamped down on my mouth.
"It's Emmett!"
He released my mouth, and wound his arm around my waist.
"It's okay, Bella," he promised. "You're going to be safe."
We raced through the quiet town toward the north highway.
"I didn't realize you were still so bored with small-town life," he said
conversationally, and I knew he was trying to distract me. "It seemed
like you were adjusting fairly well — especially recently. Maybe I was
just flattering myself that I was making life more interesting for you."
"I wasn't being nice," I confessed, ignoring his attempt at diversion,
looking down at my knees. "That was the same thing my mom said when she
left him. You could say I was hitting below the belt."
"Don't worry. He'll forgive you." He smiled a little, though it didn't
touch his eyes.
I stared at him desperately, and he saw the naked panic in my eyes.
"Bella, it's going to be all right."
"But it won't be all right when I'm not with you," I whispered.
"We'll be together again in a few days," he said, tightening his arm
around me. "Don't forget that this was your idea."
"It was the best idea — of course it was mine."
His answering smile was bleak and disappeared immediately.
"Why did this happen?" I asked, my voice catching. "Why me?"
He stared blackly at the road ahead. "It's my fault — I was a fool to
expose you like that." The rage in his voice was directed internally.
"That's not what I meant," I insisted. "I was there, big deal. It didn't
bother the other two. Why did this James decide to kill met There're
people all over the place, why me?"
He hesitated, thinking before he answered.
"I got a good look at his mind tonight," he began in a low voice. "I'm
not sure if there's anything I could have done to avoid this, once he saw
you. It is partially your fault." His voice was wry. "If you didn't smell
so appallingly luscious, he might not have bothered. But when I defended
you… well, that made it a lot worse. He's not used to being thwarted, no
matter how insignificant the object. He thinks of himself as a hunter and
nothing else. His existence is consumed with tracking, and a challenge is
all he asks of life. Suddenly we've presented him with a beautiful
challenge — a large clan of strong fighters all bent on protecting the
one vulnerable element. You wouldn't believe how euphoric he is now. It's
his favorite game, and we've just made it his most exciting game ever."
His tone was full of disgust.
He paused a moment.
"But if I had stood by, he would have killed you right then," he said
with hopeless frustration.
"I thought… I didn't smell the same to the others… as I do to you," I
said hesitantly.
"You don't. But that doesn't mean that you aren't still a temptation to
every one of them. If you had appealed to the tracker — or any of them —
the same way you appeal to me, it would have meant a fight right there."
I shuddered.
"I don't think I have any choice but to kill him now," he muttered.
"Carlisle won't like it."
I could hear the tires cross the bridge, though I couldn't see the river
in the dark. I knew we were getting close. I had to ask him now.
"How can you kill a vampire?"
He glanced at me with unreadable eyes and his voice was suddenly harsh.
"The only way to be sure is to tear him to shreds, and then burn the
pieces."
"And the other two will fight with him?"
"The woman will. I'm not sure about Laurent. They don't have a very
strong bond — he's only with them for convenience. He was embarrassed by
James in the meadow…"
"But James and the woman — they'll try to kill you?" I asked, my voice
raw.
"Bella, don't you dare waste time worrying about me. Your only concern is
keeping yourself safe and — please, please — trying not to be reckless."
"Is he still following?"
"Yes. He won't attack the house, though. Not tonight."
He turned off onto the invisible drive, with Alice following behind.
We drove right up to the house. The lights inside were bright, but they
did little to alleviate the blackness of the encroaching forest. Emmett
had my door open before the truck was stopped; he pulled me out of the
seat, tucked me like a football into his vast chest, and ran me through
the door.
We burst into the large white room, Edward and Alice at our sides. All of
them were there; they were already on their feet at the sound of our
approach. Laurent stood in their midst. I could hear low growls rumble
deep in Emmett's throat as he set me down next to Edward.
"He's tracking us," Edward announced, glaring balefully at Laurent.
Laurent's face was unhappy. "I was afraid of that."
Alice danced to Jasper's side and whispered in his ear; her lips quivered
with the speed of her silent speech. They flew up the stairs together.
Rosalie watched them, and then moved quickly to Emmett's side. Her
beautiful eyes were intense and — when they flickered unwillingly to my
face — furious.
"What will he do?" Carlisle asked Laurent in chilling tones.
"I'm sorry," he answered. "I was afraid, when your boy there defended
her, that it would set him off."
"Can you stop him?"
Laurent shook his head. "Nothing stops James when he gets started."
"We'll stop him," Emmett promised. There was no doubt what he meant.
"You can't bring him down. I've never seen anything like him in my three
hundred years. He's absolutely lethal. That's why I joined his coven."
His coven, I thought, of course. The show of leadership in the clearing
was merely that, a show.
Laurent was shaking his head. He glanced at me, perplexed, and back to
Carlisle. "Are you sure it's worth it?"
Edward's enraged roar filled the room; Laurent cringed back.
Carlisle looked gravely at Laurent. "I'm afraid you're going to have to
make a choice."
Laurent understood. He deliberated for a moment. His eyes took in every
face, and finally swept the bright room.
"I'm intrigued by the life you've created here. But I won't get in the
middle of this. I bear none of you any enmity, but I won't go up against
James. I think I will head north — to that clan in Denali." He hesitated.
"Don't underestimate James. He's got a brilliant mind and unparalleled
senses. He's every bit as comfortable in the human world as you seem to
be, and he won't come at you head on… I'm sorry for what's been unleashed
here. Truly sorry." He bowed his head, but I saw him flicker another
puzzled look at me.
"Go in peace," was Carlisle's formal answer.
Laurent took another long look around himself, and then he hurried out
the door.
The silence lasted less than a second.
"How close?" Carlisle looked to Edward.
Esme was already moving; her hand touched an inconspicuous keypad on the
wall, and with a groan, huge metal shutters began sealing up the glass
wall. I gaped.
"About three miles out past the river; he's circling around to meet up
with the female."
"What's the plan?"
"We'll lead him off, and then Jasper and Alice will run her south."
"And then?"
Edward's tone was deadly. "As soon as Bella is clear, we hunt him."
"I guess there's no other choice," Carlisle agreed, his face grim.
Edward turned to Rosalie.
"Get her upstairs and trade clothes," Edward commanded. She stared back
at him with livid disbelief.
"Why should I?" she hissed. "What is she to me? Except a menace — a
danger you've chosen to inflict on all of us."
I flinched back from the venom in her voice.
"Rose…" Emmett murmured, putting one hand on her shoulder. She shook it
off.
But I was watching Edward carefully, knowing his temper, worried about
his reaction.
He surprised me. He looked away from Rosalie as if she hadn't spoken, as
if she didn't exist.
"Esme?" he asked calmly.
"Of course," Esme murmured.
Esme was at my side in half a heartbeat, swinging me up easily into her
arms, and dashing up the stairs before I could gasp in shock.
"What are we doing?" I asked breathlessly as she set me down in a dark
room somewhere off the second-story hall.
"Trying to confuse the smell. It won't work for long, but it might help
get you out." I could hear her clothes falling to the floor.
"I don't think I'll fit…" I hesitated, but her hands were abruptly
pulling my shirt over my head. I quickly stripped my jeans off myself.
She handed me something, it felt like a shirt. I struggled to get my arms
through the right holes. As soon as I was done she handed me her slacks.
I yanked them on, but I couldn't get my feet out; they were too long. She
deftly rolled the hems a few times so I could stand. Somehow she was
already in my clothes. She pulled me back to the stairs, where Alice
stood, a small leather bag in one hand. They each grabbed one of my
elbows and half-carried me as they flew down the stairs.
It appeared that everything had been settled downstairs in our absence.
Edward and Emmett were ready to leave, Emmett carrying a heavy-looking
backpack over his shoulder. Carlisle was handing something small to Esme.
He turned and handed Alice the same thing — it was a tiny silver cell
phone.
"Esme and Rosalie will be taking your truck, Bella," he told me as he
passed. I nodded, glancing warily at Rosalie. She was glowering at
Carlisle with a resentful expression.
"Alice, Jasper — take the Mercedes. You'll need the dark tint in the
south."
They nodded as well.
"We're taking the Jeep."
I was surprised to see that Carlisle intended to go with Edward. I
realized suddenly, with a stab of fear, that they made up the hunting
party.
"Alice," Carlisle asked, "will they take the bait?"
Everyone watched Alice as she closed her eyes and became incredibly still.
Finally her eyes opened. "He'll track you. The woman will follow the
truck. We should be able to leave after that." Her voice was certain.
"Let's go." Carlisle began to walk toward the kitchen.
But Edward was at my side at once. He caught me up in his iron grip,
crushing me to him. He seemed unaware of his watching family as he pulled
my face to his, lifting my feet off the floor. For the shortest second,
his lips were icy and hard against mine. Then it was over. He set me
down, still holding my face, his glorious eyes burning into mine.
His eyes went blank, curiously dead, as he turned away.
And they were gone.
We stood there, the others looking away from me as the tears streaked
noiselessly down my face.
The silent moment dragged on, and then Esme's phone vibrated in her hand.
It flashed to her ear.
"Now," she said. Rosalie stalked out the front door without another
glance in my direction, but Esme touched my cheek as she passed.
"Be safe." Her whisper lingered behind them as they slipped out the door.
I heard my truck start thunderously, and then fade away.
Jasper and Alice waited. Alice's phone seemed to be at her ear before it
buzzed.
"Edward says the woman is on Esme's trail. I'll get the car." She
vanished into the shadows the way Edward had gone.
Jasper and I looked at each other. He stood across the length of the
entryway from me… being careful.
"You're wrong, you know," he said quietly.
"What?" I gasped.
"I can feel what you're feeling now — and you are worth it."
"I'm not," I mumbled. "If anything happens to them, it will be for
nothing."
"You're wrong," he repeated, smiling kindly at me.
I heard nothing, but then Alice stepped through the front door and came
toward me with her arms held out.
"May I?" she asked.
"You're the first one to ask permission." I smiled wryly.
She lifted me in her slender arms as easily as Emmett had, shielding me
protectively, and then we flew out the door, leaving the lights bright
behind us.
===========================================================================

20. IMPATIENCE
When I woke up I was confused. My thoughts were hazy, still twisted up in
dreams and nightmares; it took me longer than it should have to realize
where I was.
This room was too bland to belong anywhere but in a hotel. The bedside
lamps, bolted to the tables, were a dead giveaway, as were the long
drapes made from the same fabric as the bedspread, and the generic
watercolor prints on the walls.
I tried to remember how I got here, but nothing came at first.
I did remember the sleek black car, the glass in the windows darker than
that on a limousine. The engine was almost silent, though we'd raced
across the black freeways at more than twice the legal speed.
And I remembered Alice sitting with me on the dark leather backseat.
Somehow, during the long night, my head had ended up against her granite
neck. My closeness didn't seem to bother her at all, and her cool, hard
skin was oddly comforting to me. The front of her thin cotton shirt was
cold, damp with the tears that streamed from my eyes until, red and sore,
they ran dry.
Sleep had evaded me; my aching eyes strained open even though the night
finally ended and dawn broke over a low peak somewhere in California. The
gray light, streaking across the cloudless sky, stung my eyes. But I
couldn't close them; when I did, the images that flashed all too vividly,
like still slides behind my lids, were unbearable. Charlie's broken
expression — Edward's brutal snarl, teeth bared — Rosalie's resentful
glare — the keen-eyed scrutiny of the tracker — the dead look in Edward's
eyes after he kissed me the last time… I couldn't stand to see them. So I
fought against my weariness and the sun rose higher.
I was still awake when we came through a shallow mountain pass and the
sun, behind us now, reflected off the tiled rooftops of the Valley of the
Sun. I didn't have enough emotion left to be surprised that we'd made a
three-day journey in one. I stared blankly at the wide, flat expanse laid
out in front of me. Phoenix — the palm trees, the scrubby creosote, the
haphazard lines of the intersecting freeways, the green swaths of golf
courses and turquoise splotches of swimming pools, all submerged in a
thin smog and embraced by the short, rocky ridges that weren't really big
enough to be called mountains.
The shadows of the palm trees slanted across the freeway — defined,
sharper than I remembered, paler than they should be. Nothing could hide
in these shadows. The bright, open freeway seemed benign enough. But I
felt no relief, no sense of homecoming.
"Which way to the airport, Bella?" Jasper had asked, and I flinched,
though his voice was quite soft and un-alarming. It was the first sound,
besides the purr of the car, to break the long night's silence.
"Stay on the I-ten," I'd answered automatically. "We'll pass right by it."
My brain had worked slowly through the fog of sleep deprivation.
"Are we flying somewhere?" I'd asked Alice.
"No, but it's better to be close, just in case."
I remembered beginning the loop around Sky Harbor International… but not
ending it. I suppose that must have been when I'd fallen asleep.
Though, now that I'd chased the memories down, I did have a vague
impression of leaving the car — the sun was just falling behind the
horizon — my arm draped over Alice's shoulder and her arm firm around my
waist, dragging me along as I stumbled through the warm, dry shadows.
I had no memory of this room.
I looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. The red numbers claimed
it was three o'clock, but they gave no indication if it was night or day.
No edge of light escaped the thick curtains, but the room was bright with
the light from the lamps.
I rose stiffly and staggered to the window, pulling back the drapes.
It was dark outside. Three in the morning, then. My room looked out on a
deserted section of the freeway and the new long-term parking garage for
the airport. It was slightly comforting to be able to pinpoint time and
place.
I looked down at myself. I was still wearing Esme's clothes, and they
didn't fit very well at all. I looked around the room, glad when I
discovered my duffel bag on top of the low dresser.
I was on my way to find new clothes when a light tap on the door made me
jump.
"Can I come in?" Alice asked.
I took a deep breath. "Sure."
She walked in, and looked me over cautiously. "You look like you could
sleep longer," she said.
I just shook my head.
She drifted silently to the curtains and closed them securely before
turning back to me.
"We'll need to stay inside," she told me.
"Okay." My voice was hoarse; it cracked.
"Thirsty?" she asked.
I shrugged. "I'm okay. How about you?"
"Nothing unmanageable." She smiled. "I ordered some food for you, it's in
the front room. Edward reminded me that you have to eat a lot more
frequently than we do."
I was instantly more alert. "He called?"
"No," she said, and watched as my face fell. "It was before we left."
She took my hand carefully and led me through the door into the living
room of the hotel suite. I could hear a low buzz of voices coming from
the TV. Jasper sat motionlessly at the desk in the corner, his eyes
watching the news with no glimmer of interest.
I sat on the floor next to the coffee table, where a tray of food waited,
and began picking at it without noticing what I was eating.
Alice perched on the arm of the sofa and stared blankly at the TV like
Jasper.
I ate slowly, watching her, turning now and then to glance quickly at
Jasper. It began to dawn on me that they were too still. They never
looked away from the screen, though commercials were playing now. I
pushed the tray away, my stomach abruptly uneasy. Alice looked down at me.
"What's wrong, Alice?" I asked.
"Nothing's wrong." Her eyes were wide, honest… and I didn't trust them.
"What do we do now?"
"We wait for Carlisle to call."
"And should he have called by now?" I could see that I was near the mark.
Alice's eyes flitted from mine to the phone on top of her leather bag and
back.
"What does that mean?" My voice quavered, and I fought to control it.
"That he hasn't called yet?"
"It just means that they don't have anything to tell us."
But her voice was too even, and the air was harder to breathe.
Jasper was suddenly beside Alice, closer to me than usual.
"Bella," he said in a suspiciously soothing voice. "You have nothing to
worry about. You are completely safe here."
"I know that."
"Then why are you frightened?" he asked, confused. He might feel the
tenor of my emotions, but he couldn't read the reasons behind them.
"You heard what Laurent said." My voice was just a whisper, but I was
sure they could hear me. "He said James was lethal. What if something
goes wrong, and they get separated? If something happens to any of them,
Carlisle, Emmett… Edward…" I gulped. "If that wild female hurts Esme…" My
voice had grown higher, a note of hysteria beginning to rise in it. "How
could I live with myself when it's my fault? None of you should be
risking yourselves for me —"
"Bella, Bella, stop," he interrupted me, his words pouring out so quickly
they were hard to understand. "You're worrying about all the wrong
things, Bella. Trust me on this — none of us are in jeopardy. You are
under too much strain as it is; don't add to it with wholly unnecessary
worries. Listen to me!" he ordered, for I had looked away. "Our family is
strong. Our only fear is losing you."
"But why should you —"
Alice interrupted this time, touching my cheek with her cold fingers.
"It's been almost a century that Edward's been alone. Now he's found you.
You can't see the changes that we see, we who have been with him for so
long. Do you think any of us want to look into his eyes for the next
hundred years if he loses you?"
My guilt slowly subsided as I looked into her dark eyes. But, even as the
calm spread over me, I knew I couldn't trust my feelings with Jasper
there.
It was a very long day.
We stayed in the room. Alice called down to the front desk and asked them
to ignore our maid service for now. The windows stayed shut, the TV on,
though no one watched it. At regular intervals, food was delivered for
me. The silver phone resting on Alice's bag seemed to grow bigger as the
hours passed.
My babysitters handled the suspense better than I did. As I fidgeted and
paced, they simply grew more still, two statues whose eyes followed me
imperceptibly as I moved. I occupied myself with memorizing the room; the
striped pattern of the couches, tan, peach, cream, dull gold, and tan
again. Sometimes I stared at the abstract prints, randomly finding
pictures in the shapes, like I'd found pictures in the clouds as a child.
I traced a blue hand, a woman combing her hair, a cat stretching. But
when the pale red circle became a staring eye, I looked away.
As the afternoon wore on, I went back to bed, simply for something to do.
I hoped that by myself in the dark, I could give in to the terrible fears
that hovered on the edge of my consciousness, unable to break through
under Jasper's careful supervision.
But Alice followed me casually, as if by some coincidence she had grown
tired of the front room at the same time. I was beginning to wonder
exactly what sort of instructions Edward had given her. I lay across the
bed, and she sat, legs folded, next to me. I ignored her at first,
suddenly tired enough to sleep. But after a few minutes, the panic that
had held off in Jasper's presence began to make itself known. I gave up
on the idea of sleep quickly then, curling up into a small ball, wrapping
my arms around my legs.
"Alice?" I asked.
"Yes?"
I kept my voice very calm. "What do you think they're doing?"
"Carlisle wanted to lead the tracker as far north as possible, wait for
him to get close, and then turn and ambush him. Esme and Rosalie were
supposed to head west as long as they could keep the female behind them.
If she turned around, they were to head back to Forks and keep an eye on
your dad. So I imagine things are going well if they can't call. It means
the tracker is close enough that they don't want him to overhear."
"And Esme?"
"I think she must be back in Forks. She won't call if there's any chance
the female will overhear. I expect they're all just being very careful."
"Do you think they're safe, really?"
"Bella, how many times do we have to tell you that there's no danger to
us?"
"Would you tell me the truth, though?"
"Yes. I will always tell you the truth." Her voice was earnest.
I deliberated for a moment, and decided she meant it.
"Tell me then… how do you become a vampire?"
My question caught her off guard. She was quiet. I rolled over to look at
her, and her expression seemed ambivalent.
"Edward doesn't want me to tell you that," she said firmly, but I sensed
she didn't agree.
"That's not fair. I think I have a right to know."
"I know."
I looked at her, waiting.
She sighed. "He'll be extremely angry."
"It's none of his business. This is between you and me. Alice, as a
friend, I'm begging you." And we were friends now, somehow — as she must
have known we would be all along.
She looked at me with her splendid, wise eyes… choosing.
"I'll tell you the mechanics of it," she said finally, "but I don't
remember it myself, and I've never done it or seen it done, so keep in
mind that I can only tell you the theory."
I waited.
"As predators, we have a glut of weapons in our physical arsenal — much,
much more than really necessary. The strength, the speed, the acute
senses, not to mention those of us like Edward, Jasper, and I, who have
extra senses as well. And then, like a carnivorous flower, we are
physically attractive to our prey."
I was very still, remembering how pointedly Edward had demonstrated the
same concept for me in the meadow.
She smiled a wide, ominous smile. "We have another fairly superfluous
weapon. We're also venomous," she said, her teeth glistening. "The venom
doesn't kill — it's merely incapacitating. It works slowly, spreading
through the bloodstream, so that, once bitten, our prey is in too much
physical pain to escape us. Mostly superfluous, as I said. If we're that
close, the prey doesn't escape. Of course, there are always exceptions.
Carlisle, for example."
"So… if the venom is left to spread…" I murmured.
"It takes a few days for the transformation to be complete, depending on
how much venom is in the bloodstream, how close the venom enters to the
heart. As long as the heart keeps beating, the poison spreads, healing,
changing the body as it moves through it. Eventually the heart stops, and
the conversion is finished. But all that time, every minute of it, a
victim would be wishing for death."
I shivered.
"It's not pleasant, you see."
"Edward said that it was very hard to do… I don't quite understand," I
said.
"We're also like sharks in a way. Once we taste the blood, or even smell
it for that matter, it becomes very hard to keep from feeding. Sometimes
impossible. So you see, to actually bite someone, to taste the blood, it
would begin the frenzy. It's difficult on both sides — the blood-lust on
the one hand, the awful pain on the other."
"Why do you think you don't remember?"
"I don't know. For everyone else, the pain of transformation is the
sharpest memory they have of their human life. I remember nothing of
being human." Her voice was wistful.
We lay silently, wrapped in our individual meditations.
The seconds ticked by, and I had almost forgotten her presence, I was so
enveloped in my thoughts.
Then, without any warning, Alice leaped from the bed, landing lightly on
her feet. My head jerked up as I stared at her, startled.
"Something's changed." Her voice was urgent, and she wasn't talking to me
anymore.
She reached the door at the same time Jasper did. He had obviously heard
our conversation and her sudden exclamation. He put his hands on her
shoulders and guided her back to the bed, sitting her on the edge.
"What do you see?" he asked intently, staring into her eyes. Her eyes
were focused on something very far away. I sat close to her, leaning in
to catch her low, quick voice.
"I see a room. It's long, and there are mirrors everywhere. The floor is
wooden. He's in the room, and he's waiting. There's gold… a gold stripe
across the mirrors."
"Where is the room?"
"I don't know. Something is missing — another decision hasn't been made
yet."
"How much time?"
"It's soon. He'll be in the mirror room today, or maybe tomorrow. It all
depends. He's waiting for something. And he's in the dark now."
Jasper's voice was calm, methodical, as he questioned her in a practiced
way. "What is he doing?"
"He's watching TV… no, he's running a VCR, in the dark, in another place."
"Can you see where he is?"
"No, it's too dark."
"And the mirror room, what else is there?"
"Just the mirrors, and the gold. It's a band, around the room. And
there's a black table with a big stereo, and a TV. He's touching the VCR
there, but he doesn't watch the way he does in the dark room. This is the
room where he waits." Her eyes drifted, then focused on Jasper's face.
"There's nothing else?"
She shook her head. They looked at each other, motionless.
"What does it mean?" I asked.
Neither of them answered for a moment, then Jasper looked at me.
"It means the tracker's plans have changed. He's made a decision that
will lead him to the mirror room, and the dark room."
"But we don't know where those rooms are?"
"No."
"But we do know that he won't be in the mountains north of Washington,
being hunted. He'll elude them." Alice's voice was bleak.
"Should we call?" I asked. They traded a serious look, undecided.
And the phone rang.
Alice was across the room before I could lift my head to look at it.
She pushed a button and held the phone to her ear, but she didn't speak
first.
"Carlisle," she breathed. She didn't seem surprised or relieved, the way
I felt.
"Yes," she said, glancing at me. She listened for a long moment.
"I just saw him." She described again the vision she'd seen. "Whatever
made him get on that plane… it was leading him to those rooms." She
paused. "Yes," Alice said into the phone, and then she spoke to me.
"Bella?"
She held the phone out toward me. I ran to it.
"Hello?" I breathed.
"Bella," Edward said.
"Oh, Edward! I was so worried."
"Bella," he sighed in frustration, "I told you not to worry about
anything but yourself." It was so unbelievably good to hear his voice. I
felt the hovering cloud of despair lighten and drift back as he spoke.
"Where are you?"
"We're outside of Vancouver. Bella, I'm sorry — we lost him. He seems
suspicious of us — he's careful to stay just far enough away that I can't
hear what he's thinking. But he's gone now — it looks like he got on a
plane. We think he's heading back to Forks to start over." I could hear
Alice filling in Jasper behind me, her quick words blurring together into
a humming noise.
"I know. Alice saw that he got away."
"You don't have to worry, though. He won't find anything to lead him to
you. You just have to stay there and wait till we find him again."
"I'll be fine. Is Esme with Charlie?"
"Yes — the female has been in town. She went to the house, but while
Charlie was at work. She hasn't gone near him, so don't be afraid. He's
safe with Esme and Rosalie watching."
"What is she doing?"
"Probably trying to pick up the trail. She's been all through the town
during the night. Rosalie traced her through the airport, all the roads
around town, the school… she's digging, Bella, but there's nothing to
find."
"And you're sure Charlie's safe?"
"Yes, Esme won't let him out of her sight. And we'll be there soon. If
the tracker gets anywhere near Forks, we'll have him."
"I miss you," I whispered.
"I know, Bella. Believe me, I know. It's like you've taken half my self
away with you."
"Come and get it, then," I challenged.
"Soon, as soon as I possibly can. I will make you safe first." His voice
was hard.
"I love you," I reminded him.
"Could you believe that, despite everything I've put you through, I love
you, too?"
"Yes, I can, actually."
"I'll come for you soon."
"I'll be waiting."
As soon as the phone went dead, the cloud of depression began to creep
over me again.
I turned to give the phone back to Alice and found her and Jasper bent
over the table, where Alice was sketching on a piece of hotel stationery.
I leaned on the back of the couch, looking over her shoulder.
She drew a room: long, rectangular, with a thinner, square section at the
back. The wooden planks that made up the floor stretched lengthwise
across the room. Down the walls were lines denoting the breaks in the
mirrors. And then, wrapping around the walls, waist high, a long band.
The band Alice said was gold.
"It's a ballet studio," I said, suddenly recognizing the familiar shapes.
They looked at me, surprised.
"Do you know this room?" Jasper's voice sounded calm, but there was an
undercurrent of something I couldn't identify. Alice bent her head to her
work, her hand flying across the page now, the shape of an emergency exit
taking shape against the back wall, the stereo and TV on a low table by
the front right corner.
"It looks like a place I used to go for dance lessons — when I was eight
or nine. It was shaped just the same." I touched the page where the
square section jutted out, narrowing the back part of the room. "That's
where the bathrooms were — the doors were through the other dance floor.
But the stereo was here" — I pointed to the left corner — "it was older,
and there wasn't a TV. There was a window in the waiting room — you would
see the room from this perspective if you looked through it."
Alice and Jasper were staring at me.
"Are you sure it's the same room?" Jasper asked, still calm.
"No, not at all — I suppose most dance studios would look the same — the
mirrors, the bar." I traced my finger along the ballet bar set against
the mirrors. "It's just the shape that looked familiar." I touched the
door, set in exactly the same place as the one I remembered.
"Would you have any reason to go there now?" Alice asked, breaking my
reverie.
"No, I haven't been there in almost ten years. I was a terrible dancer —
they always put me in the back for recitals," I admitted.
"So there's no way it could be connected with you?" Alice asked intently.
"No, I don't even think the same person owns it. I'm sure it's just
another dance studio, somewhere."
"Where was the studio you went to?" Jasper asked in a casual voice.
"It was just around the corner from my mom's house. I used to walk there
after school…" I said, my voice trailing off. I didn't miss the look they
exchanged.
"Here in Phoenix, then?" His voice was still casual.
"Yes," I whispered. "Fifty-eighth Street and Cactus."
We all sat in silence, staring at the drawing.
"Alice, is that phone safe?"
"Yes," she reassured me. "The number would just trace back to Washington."
"Then I can use it to call my mom."
"I thought she was in Florida."
"She is — but she's coming home soon, and she can't come back to that
house while…" My voice trembled. I was thinking about something Edward
had said, about the red-haired female at Charlie's house, at the school,
where my records would be.
"How will you reach her?"
"They don't have a permanent number except at the house — she's supposed
to check her messages regularly."
"Jasper?" Alice asked.
He thought about it. "I don't think there's any way it could hurt — be
sure you don't say where you are, of course."
I reached eagerly for the phone and dialed the familiar number. It rang
four times, and then I heard my mom's breezy voice telling me to leave a
message.
"Mom," I said after the beep, "it's me. Listen, I need you to do
something. It's important. As soon as you get this message, call me at
this number." Alice was already at my side, writing the number for me on
the bottom of her picture. I read it carefully, twice. "Please don't go
anywhere until you talk to me. Don't worry, I'm okay, but I have to talk
to you right away, no matter how late you get this call, all right? I
love you, Mom. Bye." I closed my eyes and prayed with all my might that
no unforeseen change of plans would bring her home before she got my
message.
I settled into the sofa, nibbling on a plate of leftover fruit,
anticipating a long evening. I thought about calling Charlie, but I
wasn't sure if I should be home by now or not. I concentrated on the
news, watching out for stories about Florida, or about spring training —
strikes or hurricanes or terrorist attacks — anything that might send
them home early.
Immortality must grant endless patience. Neither Jasper nor Alice seemed
to feel the need to do anything at all. For a while, Alice sketched the
vague outline of the dark room from her vision, as much as she could see
in the light from the TV. But when she was done, she simply sat, looking
at the blank walls with her timeless eyes. Jasper, too, seemed to have no
urge to pace, or peek through the curtains, or run screaming out the
door, the way I did.
I must have fallen asleep on the couch, waiting for the phone to ring
again. The touch of Alice's cold hands woke me briefly as she carried me
to the bed, but I was unconscious again before my head hit the pillow.
===========================================================================

21. PHONE CALL
I could feel it was too early again when I woke, and I knew I was getting
the schedule of my days and nights slowly reversed. I lay in my bed and
listened to the quiet voices of Alice and Jasper in the other room. That
they were loud enough for me to hear at all was strange. I rolled till my
feet touched the floor and then staggered to the living room.
The clock on the TV said it was just after two in the morning. Alice and
Jasper were sitting together on the sofa, Alice sketching again while
Jasper looked over her shoulder. They didn't look up when I entered, too
engrossed in Alice's work.
I crept to Jasper's side to peek.
"Did she see something more?" I asked him quietly.
"Yes. Something's brought him back to the room with the VCR, but it's
light now."
I watched as Alice drew a square room with dark beams across its low
ceiling. The walls were paneled in wood, a little too dark, out of date.
The floor had a dark carpet with a pattern in it. There was a large
window against the south wall, and an opening through the west wall led
to the living room. One side of that entrance was stone — a large tan
stone fireplace that was open to both rooms. The focus of the room from
this perspective, the TV and VCR, balanced on a too-small wooden stand,
were in the southwest corner of the room. An aged sectional sofa curved
around in front of the TV, a round coffee table in front of it.
"The phone goes there," I whispered, pointing.
Two pairs of eternal eyes stared at me.
"That's my mother's house."
Alice was already off the couch, phone in hand, dialing. I stared at the
precise rendering of my mother's family room. Uncharacteristically,
Jasper slid closer to me. He lightly touched his hand to my shoulder, and
the physical contact seemed to make his calming influence stronger. The
panic stayed dull, unfocused.
Alice's lips were trembling with the speed of her words, the low buzzing
impossible to decipher. I couldn't concentrate.
"Bella," Alice said. I looked at her numbly.
"Bella, Edward is coming to get you. He and Emmett and Carlisle are going
to take you somewhere, to hide you for a while."
"Edward is coming?" The words were like a life vest, holding my head
above the flood.
"Yes, he's catching the first flight out of Seattle. We'll meet him at
the airport, and you'll leave with him."
"But, my mother… he came here for my mother, Alice!" Despite Jasper, the
hysteria bubbled up in my voice.
"Jasper and I will stay till she's safe."
"I can't win, Alice. You can't guard everyone I know forever. Don't you
see what he's doing? He's not tracking me at all. He'll find someone,
he'll hurt someone I love… Alice, I can't —"
"We'll catch him, Bella," she assured me.
"And what if you get hurt, Alice? Do you think that's okay with me? Do
you think it's only my human family he can hurt me with?"
Alice looked meaningfully at Jasper. A deep, heavy fog of lethargy washed
over me, and my eyes closed without my permission. My mind struggled
against the fog, realizing what was happening. I forced my eyes open and
stood up, stepping away from Jasper's hand.
"I don't want to go back to sleep," I snapped.
I walked to my room and shut the door, slammed it really, so I could be
free to go to pieces privately. This time Alice didn't follow me. For
three and a half hours I stared at the wall, curled in a ball, rocking.
My mind went around in circles, trying to come up with some way out of
this nightmare. There was no escape, no reprieve. I could see only one
possible end looming darkly in my future. The only question was how many
other people would be hurt before I reached it.
The only solace, the only hope I had left, was knowing that I would see
Edward soon. Maybe, if I could just see his face again, I would also be
able to see the solution that eluded me now.
When the phone rang, I returned to the front room, a little ashamed of my
behavior. I hoped I hadn't offended either of them, that they would know
how grateful I was for the sacrifices they were making on my account.
Alice was talking as rapidly as ever, but what caught my attention was
that, for the first time, Jasper was not in the room. I looked at the
clock — it was five-thirty in the morning.
"They're just boarding their plane," Alice told me. "They'll land at
nine-forty-five." Just a few more hours to keep breathing till he was
here.
"Where's Jasper?"
"He went to check out."
"You aren't staying here?"
"No, we're relocating closer to your mother's house."
My stomach twisted uneasily at her words.
But the phone rang again, distracting me. She looked surprised, but I was
already walking forward, reaching hopefully for the phone.
"Hello?" Alice asked. "No, she's right here." She held the phone out to
me. Your mother, she mouthed.
"Hello?"
"Bella? Bella?" It was my mother's voice, in a familiar tone I had heard
a thousand times in my childhood, anytime I'd gotten too close to the
edge of the sidewalk or strayed out of her sight in a crowded place. It
was the sound of panic.
I sighed. I'd been expecting this, though I'd tried to make my message as
unalarming as possible without lessening the urgency of it.
"Calm down, Mom," I said in my most soothing voice, walking slowly away
from Alice. I wasn't sure if I could lie as convincingly with her eyes on
me. "Everything is fine, okay? Just give me a minute and I'll explain
everything, I promise."
I paused, surprised that she hadn't interrupted me yet.
"Mom?"
"Be very careful not to say anything until I tell you to." The voice I
heard now was as unfamiliar as it was unexpected. It was a man's tenor
voice, a very pleasant, generic voice — the kind of voice that you heard
in the background of luxury car commercials. He spoke very quickly.
"Now, I don't need to hurt your mother, so please do exactly as I say,
and she'll be fine." He paused for a minute while I listened in mute
horror. "That's very good," he congratulated. "Now repeat after me, and
do try to sound natural. Please say, 'No, Mom, stay where you are.'"
"No, Mom, stay where you are." My voice was barely more than a whisper.
"I can see this is going to be difficult." The voice was amused, still
light and friendly. "Why don't you walk into another room now so your
face doesn't ruin everything? There's no reason for your mother to
suffer. As you're walking, please say, 'Mom, please listen to me.' Say it
now."
"Mom, please listen to me," my voice pleaded. I walked very slowly to the
bedroom, feeling Alice's worried stare on my back. I shut the door behind
me, trying to think clearly through the terror that gripped my brain.
"There now, are you alone? Just answer yes or no."
"Yes."
"But they can still hear you, I'm sure."
"Yes."
"All right, then," the agreeable voice continued, "say, 'Mom, trust me.'"
"Mom, trust me."
"This worked out rather better than I expected. I was prepared to wait,
but your mother arrived ahead of schedule. It's easier this way, isn't
it? Less suspense, less anxiety for you."
I waited.
"Now I want you to listen very carefully. I'm going to need you to get
away from your friends; do you think you can do that? Answer yes or no."
"No."
"I'm sorry to hear that. I was hoping you would be a little more creative
than that. Do you think you could get away from them if your mother's
life depended on it? Answer yes or no."
Somehow, there had to be a way. I remembered that we were going to the
airport. Sky Harbor International Airport: crowded, confusingly laid out…
"Yes."
"That's better. I'm sure it won't be easy, but if I get the slightest
hint that you have any company, well, that would be very bad for your
mother," the friendly voice promised. "You must know enough about us by
now to realize how quickly I would know if you tried to bring anyone
along with you. And how little time I would need to deal with your mother
if that was the case. Do you understand? Answer yes or no."
"Yes." My voice broke.
"Very good, Bella. Now this is what you have to do. I want you to go to
your mother's house. Next to the phone there will be a number. Call it,
and I'll tell you where to go from there." I already knew where I would
go, and where this would end. But I would follow his instructions
exactly. "Can you do that? Answer yes or no."
"Yes."
"Before noon, please, Bella. I haven't got all day," he said politely.
"Where's Phil?" I asked tersely.
"Ah, be careful now, Bella. Wait until I ask you to speak, please."
I waited.
"It's important, now, that you don't make your friends suspicious when
you go back to them. Tell them that your mother called, and that you
talked her out of coming home for the time being. Now repeat after me,
'Thank you, Mom.' Say it now."
"Thank you, Mom." The tears were coming. I tried to fight them back.
"Say, 'I love you, Mom, I'll see you soon.' Say it now."
"I love you, Mom." My voice was thick. "I'll see you soon," I promised.
"Goodbye, Bella. I look forward to seeing you again." He hung up.
I held the phone to my ear. My joints were frozen with terror — I
couldn't unbend my fingers to drop it.
I knew I had to think, but my head was filled with the sound of my
mother's panic. Seconds ticked by while I fought for control.
Slowly, slowly, my thoughts started to break past that brick wall of
pain. To plan. For I had no choices now but one: to go to the mirrored
room and die. I had no guarantees, nothing to give to keep my mother
alive. I could only hope that James would be satisfied with winning the
game, that beating Edward would be enough. Despair gripped me; there was
no way to bargain, nothing I could offer or withhold that could influence
him. But I still had no choice. I had to try.
I pushed the terror back as well as I could. My decision was made. It did
no good to waste time agonizing over the outcome. I had to think clearly,
because Alice and Jasper were waiting for me, and evading them was
absolutely essential, and absolutely impossible.
I was suddenly grateful that Jasper was gone. If he had been here to feel
my anguish in the last five minutes, how could I have kept them from
being suspicious? I choked back the dread, the anxiety, tried to stifle
it. I couldn't afford it now. I didn't know when he would return.
I concentrated on my escape. I had to hope that my familiarity with the
airport would turn the odds in my favor. Somehow, I had to keep Alice
away…
I knew Alice was in the other room waiting for me, curious. But I had to
deal with one more thing in private, before Jasper was back.
I had to accept that I wouldn't see Edward again, not even one last
glimpse of his face to carry with me to the mirror room. I was going to
hurt him, and I couldn't say goodbye. I let the waves of torture wash
over me, have their way for a time. Then I pushed them back, too, and
went to face Alice.
The only expression I could manage was a dull, dead look. I saw her alarm
and I didn't wait for her to ask. I had just one script and I'd never
manage improvisation now.
"My mom was worried, she wanted to come home. But it's okay, I convinced
her to stay away." My voice was lifeless.
"We'll make sure she's fine, Bella, don't worry."
I turned away; I couldn't let her see my face.
My eye fell on a blank page of the hotel stationery on the desk. I went
to it slowly, a plan forming. There was an envelope there, too. That was
good.
"Alice," I asked slowly, without turning, keeping my voice level. "If I
write a letter for my mother, would you give it to her? Leave it at the
house, I mean."
"Sure, Bella." Her voice was careful. She could see me coming apart at
the seams. I had to keep my emotions under better control.
I went into the bedroom again, and knelt next to the little bedside table
to write.
"Edward," I wrote. My hand was shaking, the letters were hardly legible.
I love you. I am so sorry. He has my mom, and I have to try. I know it
may not work. I am so very, very sorry.
Don't be angry with Alice and Jasper. If I get away from them it will be
a miracle. Tell them thank you for me. Alice especially, please.
And please, please, don't come after him. That's what he wants. I think.
I can't bear it if anyone has to be hurt because of me, especially you.
Please, this is the only thing I can ask you now. For me.
I love you. Forgive me.
Bella
I folded the letter carefully, and sealed it in the envelope. Eventually
he would find it. I only hoped he would understand, and listen to me just
this once.
And then I carefully sealed away my heart.
===========================================================================
22. HIDE-AND-SEEK
It had taken much less time than I'd thought — all the terror, the
despair, the shattering of my heart. The minutes were ticking by more
slowly than usual. Jasper still hadn't come back when I returned to
Alice. I was afraid to be in the same room with her, afraid that she
would guess… and afraid to hide from her for the same reason.
I would have thought I was far beyond the ability to be surprised, my
thoughts tortured and unstable, but I was surprised when I saw Alice bent
over the desk, gripping the edge with two hands.
"Alice?"
She didn't react when I called her name, but her head was slowly rocking
side to side, and I saw her face. Her eyes were blank, dazed… My thoughts
flew to my mother. Was I already too late?
I hurried to her side, reaching out automatically to touch her hand.
"Alice!" Jasper's voice whipped, and then he was right behind her, his
hands curling over hers, loosening them from their grip on the table.
Across the room, the door swung shut with a low click.
"What is it?" he demanded.
She turned her face away from me, into his chest. "Bella," she said.
"I'm right here," I replied.
Her head twisted around, her eyes locking on mine, their expression still
strangely blank. I realized at once that she hadn't been speaking to me,
she'd been answering Jasper's question.
"What did you see?" I said — and there was no question in my flat,
uncaring voice.
Jasper looked at me sharply. I kept my expression vacant and waited. His
eyes were confused as they flickered swiftly between Alice's face and
mine, feeling the chaos… for I could guess what Alice had seen now.
I felt a tranquil atmosphere settle around me. I welcomed it, using it to
keep my emotions disciplined, under control.
Alice, too, recovered herself.
"Nothing, really," she answered finally, her voice remarkably calm and
convincing. "Just the same room as before."
She finally looked at me, her expression smooth and withdrawn. "Did you
want breakfast?"
"No, I'll eat at the airport." I was very calm, too. I went to the
bathroom to shower. Almost as if I were borrowing Jasper's strange extra
sense, I could feel Alice's wild — though well-concealed — desperation to
have me out of the room, to be alone with Jasper. So she could tell him
that they were doing something wrong, that they were going to fail…
I got ready methodically, concentrating on each little task. I left my
hair down, swirling around me, covering my face. The peaceful mood Jasper
created worked its way through me and helped me think clearly. Helped me
plan. I dug through my bag until I found my sock full of money. I emptied
it into my pocket.
I was anxious to get to the airport, and glad when we left by seven. I
sat alone this time in the back of the dark car. Alice leaned against the
door, her face toward Jasper but, behind her sunglasses, shooting glances
in my direction every few seconds.
"Alice?" I asked indifferently.
She was wary. "Yes?"
"How does it work? The things that you see?" I stared out the side
window, and my voice sounded bored. "Edward said it wasn't definite… that
things change?" It was harder than I would have thought to say his name.
That must have been what alerted Jasper, why a fresh wave of serenity
filled the car.
"Yes, things change…" she murmured — hopefully, I thought. "Some things
are more certain than others… like the weather. People are harder. I only
see the course they're on while they're on it. Once they change their
minds — make a new decision, no matter how small — the whole future
shifts."
I nodded thoughtfully. "So you couldn't see James in Phoenix until he
decided to come here."
"Yes," she agreed, wary again.
And she hadn't seen me in the mirror room with James until I'd made the
decision to meet him there. I tried not to think about what else she
might have seen. I didn't want my panic to make Jasper more suspicious.
They would be watching me twice as carefully now, anyway, after Alice's
vision. This was going to be impossible.
We got to the airport. Luck was with me, or maybe it was just good odds.
Edward's plane was landing in terminal four, the largest terminal, where
most flights landed — so it wasn't surprising that his was. But it was
the terminal I needed: the biggest, the most confusing. And there was a
door on level three that might be the only chance.
We parked on the fourth floor of the huge garage. I led the way, for once
more knowledgeable about my surroundings than they were. We took the
elevator down to level three, where the passengers unloaded. Alice and
Jasper spent a long time looking at the departing flights board. I could
hear them discussing the pros and cons of New York, Atlanta, Chicago.
Places I'd never seen. And would never see.
I waited for my opportunity, impatient, unable to stop my toe from
tapping. We sat in the long rows of chairs by the metal detectors, Jasper
and Alice pretending to people-watch but really watching me. Every inch I
shifted in my seat was followed by a quick glance out of the corner of
their eyes. It was hopeless. Should I run? Would they dare to stop me
physically in this public place? Or would they simply follow?
I pulled the unmarked envelope out of my pocket and set it on top of
Alice's black leather bag. She looked at me.
"My letter," I said. She nodded, tucking it under the top flap. He would
find it soon enough.
The minutes passed and Edward's arrival grew closer. It was amazing how
every cell in my body seemed to know he was coming, to long for his
coming. That made it very hard. I found myself trying to think of excuses
to stay, to see him first and then make my escape. But I knew that was
impossible if I was going to have any chance to get away.
Several times Alice offered to go get breakfast with me. Later, I told
her, not yet.
I stared at the arrival board, watching as flight after flight arrived on
time. The flight from Seattle crept closer to the top of the board.
And then, when I had only thirty minutes to make my escape, the numbers
changed. His plane was ten minutes early. I had no more time.
"I think I'll eat now," I said quickly.
Alice stood. "I'll come with you."
"Do you mind if Jasper comes instead?" I asked. "I'm feeling a little…" I
didn't finish the sentence. My eyes were wild enough to convey what I
didn't say.
Jasper stood up. Alice's eyes were confused, but — I saw to my relief—
not suspicious. She must be attributing the change in her vision to some
maneuver of the tracker's rather than a betrayal by me.
Jasper walked silently beside me, his hand on the small of my back, as if
he were guiding me. I pretended a lack of interest in the first few
airport cafes, my head scanning for what I really wanted. And there it
was, around the corner, out of Alice's sharp sight: the level-three
ladies' room.
"Do you mind?" I asked Jasper as we passed. "I'll just be a moment."
"I'll be right here," he said.
As soon as the door shut behind me, I was running. I remembered the time
I had gotten lost from this bathroom, because it had two exits.
Outside the far door it was only a short sprint to the elevators, and if
Jasper stayed where he said he would, I'd never be in his line of sight.
I didn't look behind me as I ran. This was my only chance, and even if he
saw me, I had to keep going. People stared, but I ignored them. Around
the corner the elevators were waiting, and I dashed forward, throwing my
hand between the closing doors of a full elevator headed down. I squeezed
in beside the irritated passengers, and checked to make sure that the
button for level one had been pushed. It was already lit, and the doors
closed.
As soon as the door opened I was off again, to the sound of annoyed
murmurs behind me. I slowed myself as I passed the security guards by the
luggage carousels, only to break into a run again as the exit doors came
into view. I had no way of knowing if Jasper was looking for me yet.
I would have only seconds if he was following my scent. I jumped out the
automatic doors, nearly smacking into the glass when they opened too
slowly.
Along the crowded curb there wasn't a cab in sight.
I had no time. Alice and Jasper were either about to realize I was gone,
or they already had. They would find me in a heartbeat.
A shuttle to the Hyatt was just closing its doors a few feet behind me.
"Wait!" I called, running, waving at the driver.
"This is the shuttle to the Hyatt," the driver said in confusion as he
opened the doors.
"Yes," I huffed, "that's where I'm going." I hurried up the steps.
He looked askance at my luggage-less state, but then shrugged, not caring
enough to ask.
Most of the seats were empty. I sat as far from the other travelers as
possible, and watched out the window as first the sidewalk, and then the
airport, drifted away. I couldn't help imagining Edward, where he would
stand at the edge of the road when he found the end of my trail. I
couldn't cry yet, I told myself. I still had a long way to go.
My luck held. In front of the Hyatt, a tired-looking couple was getting
their last suitcase out of the trunk of a cab. I jumped out of the
shuttle and ran to the cab, sliding into the seat behind the driver. The
tired couple and the shuttle driver stared at me.
I told the surprised cabbie my mother's address. "I need to get there as
soon as possible."
"That's in Scottsdale," he complained.
I threw four twenties over the seat.
"Will that be enough?"
"Sure, kid, no problem."
I sat back against the seat, folding my arms across my lap. The familiar
city began to rush around me, but I didn't look out the windows. I
exerted myself to maintain control. I was determined not to lose myself
at this point, now that my plan was successfully completed. There was no
point in indulging in more terror, more anxiety. My path was set. I just
had to follow it now.
So, instead of panicking, I closed my eyes and spent the twenty minutes'
drive with Edward.
I imagined that I had stayed at the airport to meet Edward. I visualized
how I would stand on my toes, the sooner to see his face. How quickly,
how gracefully he would move through the crowds of people separating us.
And then I would run to close those last few feet between us — reckless
as always — and I would be in his marble arms, finally safe.
I wondered where we would have gone. North somewhere, so he could be
outside in the day. Or maybe somewhere very remote, so we could lay in
the sun together again. I imagined him by the shore, his skin sparkling
like the sea. It wouldn't matter how long we had to hide. To be trapped
in a hotel room with him would be a kind of heaven. So many questions I
still had for him. I could talk to him forever, never sleeping, never
leaving his side.
I could see his face so clearly now… almost hear his voice. And, despite
all the horror and hopelessness, I was fleetingly happy. So involved was
I in my escapist daydreams, I lost all track of the seconds racing by.
"Hey, what was the number?"
The cabbie's question punctured my fantasy, letting all the colors run
out of my lovely delusions. Fear, bleak and hard, was waiting to fill the
empty space they left behind.
"Fifty-eight twenty-one." My voice sounded strangled. The cabbie looked
at me, nervous that I was having an episode or something.
"Here we are, then." He was anxious to get me out of his car, probably
hoping I wouldn't ask for my change.
"Thank you," I whispered. There was no need to be afraid, I reminded
myself. The house was empty. I had to hurry; my mom was waiting for me,
frightened, depending on me.
I ran to the door, reaching up automatically to grab the key under the
eave. I unlocked the door. It was dark inside, empty, normal. I ran to
the phone, turning on the kitchen light on my way. There, on the
whiteboard, was a ten-digit number written in a small, neat hand. My
fingers stumbled over the keypad, making mistakes. I had to hang up and
start again. I concentrated only on the buttons this time, carefully
pressing each one in turn. I was successful. I held the phone to my ear
with a shaking hand. It rang only once.
"Hello, Bella," that easy voice answered. "That was very quick. I'm
impressed."
"Is my mom all right?"
"She's perfectly fine. Don't worry, Bella, I have no quarrel with her.
Unless you didn't come alone, of course." Light, amused.
"I'm alone." I'd never been more alone in my entire life.
"Very good. Now, do you know the ballet studio just around the corner
from your home?"
"Yes. I know how to get there."
"Well, then, I'll see you very soon."
I hung up.
I ran from the room, through the door, out into the baking heat.
There was no time to look back at my house, and I didn't want to see it
as it was now — empty, a symbol of fear instead of sanctuary. The last
person to walk through those familiar rooms was my enemy.
From the corner of my eye, I could almost see my mother standing in the
shade of the big eucalyptus tree where I'd played as a child. Or kneeling
by the little plot of dirt around the mailbox, the cemetery of all the
flowers she'd tried to grow. The memories were better than any reality I
would see today. But I raced away from them, toward the corner, leaving
everything behind me.
I felt so slow, like I was running through wet sand — I couldn't seem to
get enough purchase from the concrete. I tripped several times, once
falling, catching myself with my hands, scraping them on the sidewalk,
and then lurching up to plunge forward again. But at last I made it to
the corner. Just another street now; I ran, sweat pouring down my face,
gasping. The sun was hot on my skin, too bright as it bounced off the
white concrete and blinded me. I felt dangerously exposed. More fiercely
than I would have dreamed I was capable of, I wished for the green,
protective forests of Forks… of home.
When I rounded the last corner, onto Cactus, I could see the studio,
looking just as I remembered it. The parking lot in front was empty, the
vertical blinds in all the windows drawn. I couldn't run anymore — I
couldn't breathe; exertion and fear had gotten the best of me. I thought
of my mother to keep my feet moving, one in front of the other.
As I got closer, I could see the sign inside the door. It was handwritten
on hot pink paper; it said the dance studio was closed for spring break.
I touched the handle, tugged on it cautiously. It was unlocked. I fought
to catch my breath, and opened the door.
The lobby was dark and empty, cool, the air conditioner thrumming. The
plastic molded chairs were stacked along the walls, and the carpet
smelled like shampoo. The west dance floor was dark, I could see through
the open viewing window. The east dance floor, the bigger room, was lit.
But the blinds were closed on the window.
Terror seized me so strongly that I was literally trapped by it. I
couldn't make my feet move forward.
And then my mother's voice called.
"Bella? Bella?" That same tone of hysterical panic. I sprinted to the
door, to the sound of her voice.
"Bella, you scared me! Don't you ever do that to me again!" Her voice
continued as I ran into the long, high-ceilinged room.
I stared around me, trying to find where her voice was coming from. I
heard her laugh, and I whirled to the sound.
There she was, on the TV screen, tousling my hair in relief. It was
Thanksgiving, and I was twelve. We'd gone to see my grandmother in
California, the last year before she died. We went to the beach one day,
and I'd leaned too far over the edge of the pier. She'd seen my feet
flailing, trying to reclaim my balance. "Bella? Bella?" she'd called to
me in fear.
And then the TV screen was blue.
I turned slowly. He was standing very still by the back exit, so still I
hadn't noticed him at first. In his hand was a remote control. We stared
at each other for a long moment, and then he smiled.
He walked toward me, quite close, and then passed me to put the remote
down next to the VCR. I turned carefully to watch him.
"Sorry about that, Bella, but isn't it better that your mother didn't
really have to be involved in all this?" His voice was courteous, kind.
And suddenly it hit me. My mother was safe. She was still in Florida.
She'd never gotten my message. She'd never been terrified by the dark red
eyes in the abnormally pale face before me. She was safe.
"Yes," I answered, my voice saturated with relief.
"You don't sound angry that I tricked you."
"I'm not." My sudden high made me brave. What did it matter now? It would
soon be over. Charlie and Mom would never be harmed, would never have to
fear. I felt almost giddy. Some analytical part of my mind warned me that
I was dangerously close to snapping from the stress.
"How odd. You really mean it." His dark eyes assessed me with interest.
The irises were nearly black, just a hint of ruby around the edges.
Thirsty. "I will give your strange coven this much, you humans can be
quite interesting. I guess I can see the draw of observing you. It's
amazing — some of you seem to have no sense of your own self-interest at
all."
He was standing a few feet away from me, arms folded, looking at me
curiously. There was no menace in his face or stance. He was so very
average-looking, nothing remarkable about his face or body at all. Just
the white skin, the circled eyes I'd grown so used to. He wore a pale
blue, long-sleeved shirt and faded blue jeans.
"I suppose you're going to tell me that your boyfriend will avenge you?"
he asked, hopefully it seemed to me.
"No, I don't think so. At least, I asked him not to."
"And what was his reply to that?"
"I don't know." It was strangely easy to converse with this genteel
hunter. "I left him a letter."
"How romantic, a last letter. And do you think he will honor it?" His
voice was just a little harder now, a hint of sarcasm marring his polite
tone.
"I hope so."
"Hmmm. Well, our hopes differ then. You see, this was all just a little
too easy, too quick. To be quite honest, I'm disappointed. I expected a
much greater challenge. And, after all, I only needed a little luck."
I waited in silence.
"When Victoria couldn't get to your father, I had her find out more about
you. There was no sense in running all over the planet chasing you down
when I could comfortably wait for you in a place of my choosing. So,
after I talked to Victoria, I decided to come to Phoenix to pay your
mother a visit. I'd heard you say you were going home. At first, I never
dreamed you meant it. But then I wondered. Humans can be very
predictable; they like to be somewhere familiar, somewhere safe. And
wouldn't it be the perfect ploy, to go to the last place you should be
when you're hiding — the place that you said you'd be.
"But of course I wasn't sure, it was just a hunch. I usually get a
feeling about the prey that I'm hunting, a sixth sense, if you will. I
listened to your message when I got to your mother's house, but of course
I couldn't be sure where you'd called from. It was very useful to have
your number, but you could have been in Antarctica for all I knew, and
the game wouldn't work unless you were close by.
"Then your boyfriend got on a plane to Phoenix. Victoria was monitoring
them for me, naturally; in a game with this many players, I couldn't be
working alone. And so they told me what I'd hoped, that you were here
after all. I was prepared; I'd already been through your charming home
movies. And then it was simply a matter of the bluff.
"Very easy, you know, not really up to my standards. So, you see, I'm
hoping you're wrong about your boyfriend. Edward, isn't it?"
I didn't answer. The bravado was wearing off. I sensed that he was coming
to the end of his gloat. It wasn't meant for me anyway. There was no
glory in beating me, a weak human.
"Would you mind, very much, if I left a little letter of my own for your
Edward?"
He took a step back and touched a palm-sized digital video camera
balanced carefully on top of the stereo. A small red light indicated that
it was already running. He adjusted it a few times, widened the frame. I
stared at him in horror.
"I'm sorry, but I just don't think he'll be able to resist hunting me
after he watches this. And I wouldn't want him to miss anything. It was
all for him, of course. You're simply a human, who unfortunately was in
the wrong place, at the wrong time, and indisputably running with the
wrong crowd, I might add."
He stepped toward me, smiling. "Before we begin…"
I felt a curl of nausea in the pit of my stomach as he spoke. This was
something I had not anticipated.
"I would just like to rub it in, just a little bit. The answer was there
all along, and I was so afraid Edward would see that and ruin my fun. It
happened once, oh, ages ago. The one and only time my prey escaped me.
"You see, the vampire who was so stupidly fond of this little victim made
the choice that your Edward was too weak to make. When the old one knew I
was after his little friend, he stole her from the asylum where he worked
— I never will understand the obsession some vampires seem to form with
you humans — and as soon as he freed her he made her safe. She didn't
even seem to notice the pain, poor little creature. She'd been stuck in
that black hole of a cell for so long. A hundred years earlier and she
would have been burned at the stake for her visions. In the
nineteen-twenties it was the asylum and the shock treatments. When she
opened her eyes, strong with her fresh youth, it was like she'd never
seen the sun before. The old vampire made her a strong new vampire, and
there was no reason for me to touch her then." He sighed. "I destroyed
the old one in vengeance."
"Alice," I breathed, astonished.
"Yes, your little friend. I was surprised to see her in the clearing. So
I guess her coven ought to be able to derive some comfort from this
experience. I get you, but they get her. The one victim who escaped me,
quite an honor, actually.
"And she did smell so delicious. I still regret that I never got to
taste… She smelled even better than you do. Sorry — I don't mean to be
offensive. You have a very nice smell. Floral, somehow…"
He took another step toward me, till he was just inches away. He lifted a
lock of my hair and sniffed at it delicately. Then he gently patted the
strand back into place, and I felt his cool fingertips against my throat.
He reached up to stroke my cheek once quickly with his thumb, his face
curious. I wanted so badly to run, but I was frozen. I couldn't even
flinch away.
"No," he murmured to himself as he dropped his hand, "I don't
understand." He sighed. "Well, I suppose we should get on with it. And
then I can call your friends and tell them where to find you, and my
little message."
I was definitely sick now. There was pain coming, I could see it in his
eyes. It wouldn't be enough for him to win, to feed and go. There would
be no quick end like I'd been counting on. My knees began to shake, and I
was afraid I was going to fall.
He stepped back, and began to circle, casually, as if he were trying to
get a better view of a statue in a museum. His face was still open and
friendly as he decided where to start.
Then he slumped forward, into a crouch I recognized, and his pleasant
smile slowly widened, grew, till it wasn't a smile at all but a
contortion of teeth, exposed and glistening.
I couldn't help myself— I tried to run. As useless as I knew it would be,
as weak as my knees already were, panic took over and I bolted for the
emergency door.
He was in front of me in a flash. I didn't see if he used his hand or his
foot, it was too fast. A crushing blow struck my chest — I felt myself
flying backward, and then heard the crunch as my head bashed into the
mirrors. The glass buckled, some of the pieces shattering and splintering
on the floor beside me.
I was too stunned to feel the pain. I couldn't breathe yet.
He walked toward me slowly.
"That's a very nice effect," he said, examining the mess of glass, his
voice friendly again. "I thought this room would be visually dramatic for
my little film. That's why I picked this place to meet you. It's perfect,
isn't it?"
I ignored him, scrambling on my hands and knees, crawling toward the
other door.
He was over me at once, his foot stepping down hard on my leg. I heard
the sickening snap before I felt it. But then I did feel it, and I
couldn't hold back my scream of agony. I twisted up to reach for my leg,
and he was standing over me, smiling.
"Would you like to rethink your last request?" he asked pleasantly. His
toe nudged my broken leg and I heard a piercing scream. With a shock, I
realized it was mine.
"Wouldn't you rather have Edward try to find me?" he prompted.
"No!" I croaked. "No, Edward, don't—" And then something smashed into my
face, throwing me back into the broken mirrors.
Over the pain of my leg, I felt the sharp rip across my scalp where the
glass cut into it. And then the warm wetness began to spread through my
hair with alarming speed. I could feel it soaking the shoulder of my
shirt, hear it dripping on the wood below. The smell of it twisted my
stomach.
Through the nausea and dizziness I saw something that gave me a sudden,
final shred of hope. His eyes, merely intent before, now burned with an
uncontrollable need. The blood — spreading crimson across my white shirt,
pooling rapidly on the floor — was driving him mad with thirst. No matter
his original intentions, he couldn't draw this out much longer.
Let it be quick now, was all I could hope as the flow of blood from my
head sucked my consciousness away with it. My eyes were closing.
I heard, as if from underwater, the final growl of the hunter. I could
see, through the long tunnels my eyes had become, his dark shape coming
toward me. With my last effort, my hand instinctively raised to protect
my face. My eyes closed, and I drifted.
==========================================================================

23. THE ANGEL
 
As I drifted, I dreamed.
Where I floated, under the dark water, I heard the happiest sound my mind
could conjure up — as beautiful, as uplifting, as it was ghastly. It was
another snarl; a deeper, wilder roar that rang with fury.
I was brought back, almost to the surface, by a sharp pain slashing my
upraised hand, but I couldn't find my way back far enough to open my eyes.
And then I knew I was dead.
Because, through the heavy water, I heard the sound of an angel calling
my name, calling me to the only heaven I wanted.
"Oh no, Bella, no!" the angel's voice cried in horror.
Behind that longed-for sound was another noise — an awful tumult that my
mind shied away from. A vicious bass growling, a shocking snapping sound,
and a high keening, suddenly breaking off…
I tried to concentrate on the angel's voice instead.
"Bella, please! Bella, listen to me, please, please, Bella, please!" he
begged.
Yes, I wanted to say. Anything. But I couldn't find my lips.
"Carlisle!" the angel called, agony in his perfect voice. "Bella, Bella,
no, oh please, no, no!" And the angel was sobbing tearless, broken sobs.
The angel shouldn't weep, it was wrong. I tried to find him, to tell him
everything was fine, but the water was so deep, it was pressing on me,
and I couldn't breathe.
There was a point of pressure against my head. It hurt. Then, as that
pain broke through the darkness to me, other pains came, stronger pains.
I cried out, gasping, breaking through the dark pool.
"Bella!" the angel cried.
"She's lost some blood, but the head wound isn't deep," a calm voice
informed me. "Watch out for her leg, it's broken."
A howl of rage strangled on the angel's lips.
I felt a sharp stab in my side. This couldn't be heaven, could it? There
was too much pain for that.
"Some ribs, too, I think," the methodical voice continued.
But the sharp pains were fading. There was a new pain, a scalding pain in
my hand that was overshadowing everything else.
Someone was burning me.
"Edward." I tried to tell him, but my voice was so heavy and slow. I
couldn't understand myself.
"Bella, you're going to be fine. Can you hear me, Bella? I love you."
"Edward," I tried again. My voice was a little clearer.
"Yes, I'm here."
"It hurts," I whimpered.
"I know, Bella, I know" — and then, away from me, anguished — "can't you
do anything?"
"My bag, please… Hold your breath, Alice, it will help," Carlisle
promised.
"Alice?" I groaned.
"She's here, she knew where to find you."
"My hand hurts," I tried to tell him.
"I know, Bella. Carlisle will give you something, it will stop."
"My hand is burning!" I screamed, finally breaking through the last of
the darkness, my eyes fluttering open. I couldn't see his face, something
dark and warm was clouding my eyes. Why couldn't they see the fire and
put it out?
His voice was frightened. "Bella?"
"The fire! Someone stop the fire!" I screamed as it burned me.
"Carlisle! Her hand!"
"He bit her." Carlisle's voice was no longer calm, it was appalled.
I heard Edward catch his breath in horror.
"Edward, you have to do it." It was Alice's voice, close by my head. Cool
fingers brushed at the wetness in my eyes.
"No!" he bellowed.
"Alice," I moaned.
"There may be a chance," Carlisle said.
"What?" Edward begged.
"See if you can suck the venom back out. The wound is fairly clean." As
Carlisle spoke, I could feel more pressure on my head, something poking
and pulling at my scalp. The pain of it was lost in the pain of the fire.
"Will that work?" Alice's voice was strained.
"I don't know," Carlisle said. "But we have to hurry."
"Carlisle, I…" Edward hesitated. "I don't know if I can do that." There
was agony in his beautiful voice again.
"It's your decision, Edward, either way. I can't help you. I have to get
this bleeding stopped here if you're going to be taking blood from her
hand."
I writhed in the grip of the fiery torture, the movement making the pain
in my leg flare sickeningly.
"Edward!" I screamed. I realized my eyes were closed again. I opened
them, desperate to find his face. And I found him. Finally, I could see
his perfect face, staring at me, twisted into a mask of indecision and
pain.
"Alice, get me something to brace her leg!" Carlisle was bent over me,
working on my head. "Edward, you must do it now, or it will be too late."
Edward's face was drawn. I watched his eyes as the doubt was suddenly
replaced with a blazing determination. His jaw tightened. I felt his
cool, strong fingers on my burning hand, locking it in place. Then his
head bent over it, and his cold lips pressed against my skin.
At first the pain was worse. I screamed and thrashed against the cool
hands that held me back. I heard Alice's voice, trying to calm me.
Something heavy held my leg to the floor, and Carlisle had my head locked
in the vise of his stone arms.
Then, slowly, my writhing calmed as my hand grew more and more numb. The
fire was dulling, focusing into an ever-smaller point.
I felt my consciousness slipping as the pain subsided. I was afraid to
fall into the black waters again, afraid I would lose him in the darkness.
"Edward," I tried to say, but I couldn't hear my voice. They could hear
me.
"He's right here, Bella."
"Stay, Edward, stay with me…"
"I will." His voice was strained, but somehow triumphant.
I sighed contentedly. The fire was gone, the other pains dulled by a
sleepiness seeping through my body.
"Is it all out?" Carlisle asked from somewhere far away.
"Her blood tastes clean," Edward said quietly. "I can taste the morphine."
"Bella?" Carlisle called to me.
I tried to answer. "Mmmmm?"
"Is the fire gone?"
"Yes," I sighed. "Thank you, Edward."
"I love you," he answered.
"I know," I breathed, so tired.
I heard my favorite sound in the world: Edward's quiet laugh, weak with
relief.
"Bella?" Carlisle asked again.
I frowned; I wanted to sleep. "What?"
"Where is your mother?"
"In Florida," I sighed. "He tricked me, Edward. He watched our videos."
The outrage in my voice was pitifully frail.
But that reminded me.
"Alice." I tried to open my eyes. "Alice, the video — he knew you, Alice,
he knew where you came from." I meant to speak urgently, but my voice was
feeble. "I smell gasoline," I added, surprised through the haze in my
brain.
"It's time to move her," Carlisle said.
"No, I want to sleep," I complained.
"You can sleep, sweetheart, I'll carry you," Edward soothed me.
And I was in his arms, cradled against his chest — floating, all the pain
gone.
"Sleep now, Bella" were the last words I heard.

24. AN IMPASSE
My eyes opened to a bright, white light. I was in an unfamiliar room, a
white room. The wall beside me was covered in long vertical blinds; over
my head, the glaring lights blinded me. I was propped up on a hard,
uneven bed — a bed with rails. The pillows were flat and lumpy. There was
an annoying beeping sound somewhere close by. I hoped that meant I was
still alive. Death shouldn't be this uncomfortable.
My hands were all twisted up with clear tubes, and something was taped
across my face, under my nose. I lifted my hand to rip it off.
"No, you don't." And cool fingers caught my hand.
"Edward?" I turned my head slightly, and his exquisite face was just
inches from mine, his chin resting on the edge of my pillow. I realized
again that I was alive, this time with gratitude and elation. "Oh,
Edward, I'm so sorry!"
"Shhhh," he shushed me. "Everything's all right now."
"What happened?" I couldn't remember clearly, and my mind rebelled
against me as I tried to recall.
"I was almost too late. I could have been too late," he whispered, his
voice tormented.
"I was so stupid, Edward. I thought he had my mom."
"He tricked us all."
"I need to call Charlie and my mom," I realized through the haze.
"Alice called them. Renée is here — well, here in the hospital. She's
getting something to eat right now."
"She's here?" I tried to sit up, but the spinning in my head accelerated,
and his hand pushed me gently down onto the pillows.
"She'll be back soon," he promised. "And you need to stay still."
"But what did you tell her?" I panicked. I had no interest in being
soothed. My mom was here and I was recovering from a vampire attack. "Why
did you tell her I'm here?"
"You fell down two flights of stairs and through a window." He paused.
"You have to admit, it could happen."
I sighed, and it hurt. I stared down at my body under the sheet, the huge
lump that was my leg.
"How bad am I?" I asked.
"You have a broken leg, four broken ribs, some cracks in your skull,
bruises covering every inch of your skin, and you've lost a lot of blood.
They gave you a few transfusions. I didn't like it — it made you smell
all wrong for a while."
"That must have been a nice change for you."
"No, I like how you smell."
"How did you do it?" I asked quietly. He knew what I meant at once.
"I'm not sure." He looked away from my wondering eyes, lifting my
gauze-wrapped hand from the bed and holding it gently in his, careful not
to disrupt the wire connecting me to one of the monitors.
I waited patiently for the rest.
He sighed without returning my gaze. "It was impossible… to stop," he
whispered. "Impossible. But I did." He looked up finally, with half a
smile. "I must love you."
"Don't I taste as good as I smell?" I smiled in response. That hurt my
face.
"Even better — better than I'd imagined."
"I'm sorry," I apologized.
He raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Of all the things to apologize for."
"What should I apologize for?"
"For very nearly taking yourself away from me forever."
"I'm sorry," I apologized again.
"I know why you did it." His voice was comforting. "It was still
irrational, of course. You should have waited for me, you should have
told me."
"You wouldn't have let me go."
"No," he agreed in a grim tone, "I wouldn't."
Some very unpleasant memories were beginning to come back to me. I
shuddered, and then winced.
He was instantly anxious. "Bella, what's wrong?"
"What happened to James?"
"After I pulled him off you, Emmett and Jasper took care of him." There
was a fierce note of regret in his voice.
This confused me. "I didn't see Emmett and Jasper there."
"They had to leave the room… there was a lot of blood."
"But you stayed."
"Yes, I stayed."
"And Alice, and Carlisle…" I said in wonder.
"They love you, too, you know."
A flash of painful images from the last time I'd seen Alice reminded me
of something. "Did Alice see the tape?" I asked anxiously.
"Yes." A new sound darkened his voice, a tone of sheer hatred.
"She was always in the dark, that's why she didn't remember."
"I know. She understands now." His voice was even, but his face was black
with fury.
I tried to reach his face with my free hand, but something stopped me. I
glanced down to see the IV pulling at my hand.
"Ugh." I winced.
"What is it?" he asked anxiously — distracted, but not enough. The
bleakness did not entirely leave his eyes.
"Needles," I explained, looking away from the one in my hand. I
concentrated on a warped ceiling tile and tried to breathe deeply despite
the ache in my ribs.
"Afraid of a needle," he muttered to himself under his breath, shaking
his head. "Oh, a sadistic vampire, intent on torturing her to death,
sure, no problem, she runs off to meet him. An IV, on the other hand…"
I rolled my eyes. I was pleased to discover that this reaction, at least,
was pain-free. I decided to change the subject.
"Why are you here?" I asked.
He stared at me, first confusion and then hurt touching his eyes. His
brows pulled together as he frowned. "Do you want me to leave?"
"No!" I protested, horrified by the thought. "No, I meant, why does my
mother think you're here? I need to have my story straight before she
gets back."
"Oh," he said, and his forehead smoothed back into marble. "I came to
Phoenix to talk some sense into you, to convince you to come back to
Forks." His wide eyes were so earnest and sincere, I almost believed him
myself. "You agreed to see me, and you drove out to the hotel where I was
staying with Carlisle and Alice — of course I was here with parental
supervision," he inserted virtuously, "but you tripped on the stairs on
the way to my room and… well, you know the rest. You don't need to
remember any details, though; you have a good excuse to be a little
muddled about the finer points."
I thought about it for a moment. "There are a few flaws with that story.
Like no broken windows."
"Not really," he said. "Alice had a little bit too much fun fabricating
evidence. It's all been taken care of very convincingly — you could
probably sue the hotel if you wanted to. You have nothing to worry
about," he promised, stroking my cheek with the lightest of touches.
"Your only job now is to heal."
I wasn't so lost to the soreness or the fog of medication that I didn't
respond to his touch. The beeping of the monitor jumped around
erratically — now he wasn't the only one who could hear my heart
misbehave.
"That's going to be embarrassing," I muttered to myself.
He chuckled, and a speculative look came into his eye. "Hmm, I wonder…"
He leaned in slowly; the beeping noise accelerated wildly before his lips
even touched me. But when they did, though with the most gentle of
pressure, the beeping stopped altogether.
He pulled back abruptly, his anxious expression turning to relief as the
monitor reported the restarting of my heart.
"It seems that I'm going to have to be even more careful with you than
usual." He frowned.
"I was not finished kissing you," I complained. "Don't make me come over
there."
He grinned, and bent to press his lips lightly to mine. The monitor went
wild.
But then his lips were taut. He pulled away.
"I think I hear your mother," he said, grinning again.
"Don't leave me," I cried, an irrational surge of panic flooding through
me. I couldn't let him go — he might disappear from me again.
He read the terror in my eyes for a short second. "I won't," he promised
solemnly, and then he smiled. "I'll take a nap."
He moved from the hard plastic chair by my side to the turquoise
faux-leather recliner at the foot of my bed, leaning it all the way back,
and closing his eyes. He was perfectly still.
"Don't forget to breathe," I whispered sarcastically. He took a deep
breath, his eyes still closed.
I could hear my mother now. She was talking to someone, maybe a nurse,
and she sounded tired and upset. I wanted to jump out of the bed and run
to her, to calm her, promise that everything was fine. But I wasn't in
any sort of shape for jumping, so I waited impatiently.
The door opened a crack, and she peeked through.
"Mom!" I whispered, my voice full of love and relief.
She took in Edward's still form on the recliner, and tiptoed to my
bedside.
"He never leaves, does he?" she mumbled to herself.
"Mom, I'm so glad to see you!"
She bent down to hug me gently, and I felt warm tears falling on my
cheeks.
"Bella, I was so upset!"
"I'm sorry, Mom. But everything's fine now, it's okay," I comforted her.
"I'm just glad to finally see your eyes open." She sat on the edge of my
bed.
I suddenly realized I didn't have any idea when it was. "How long have
they been closed?"
"It's Friday, hon, you've been out for a while."
"Friday?" I was shocked. I tried to remember what day it had been when…
but I didn't want to think about that.
"They had to keep you sedated for a while, honey — you've got a lot of
injuries."
"I know." I could feel them.
"You're lucky Dr. Cullen was there. He's such a nice man… very young,
though. And he looks more like a model than a doctor…"
"You met Carlisle?"
"And Edward's sister Alice. She's a lovely girl."
"She is," I agreed wholeheartedly.
She glanced over her shoulder at Edward, lying with his eyes closed in
the chair. "You didn't tell me you had such good friends in Forks."
I cringed, and then moaned.
"What hurts?" she demanded anxiously, turning back to me. Edward's eyes
flashed to my face.
"It's fine," I assured them. "I just have to remember not to move." He
lapsed back into his phony slumber.
I took advantage of my mother's momentary distraction to keep the subject
from returning to my less-than-candid behavior. "Where's Phil?" I asked
quickly.
"Florida — oh, Bella! You'll never guess! Just when we were about to
leave, the best news!"
"Phil got signed?" I guessed.
"Yes! How did you guess! The Suns, can you believe it?"
"That's great, Mom," I said as enthusiastically as I could manage, though
I had little idea what that meant.
"And you'll like Jacksonville so much," she gushed while I stared at her
vacantly. "I was a little bit worried when Phil started talking about
Akron, what with the snow and everything, because you know how I hate the
cold, but now Jacksonville! It's always sunny, and the humidity really
isn't that bad. We found the cutest house, yellow, with white trim, and a
porch just like in an old movie, and this huge oak tree, and it's just a
few minutes from the ocean, and you'll have your own bathroom —"
"Wait, Mom!" I interrupted. Edward still had his eyes closed, but he
looked too tense to pass as asleep. "What are you talking about? I'm not
going to Florida. I live in Forks."
"But you don't have to anymore, silly," she laughed. "Phil will be able
to be around so much more now… we've talked about it a lot, and what I'm
going to do is trade off on the away games, half the time with you, half
the time with him."
"Mom." I hesitated, wondering how best to be diplomatic about this. "I
want to live in Forks. I'm already settled in at school, and I have a
couple of girlfriends" — she glanced toward Edward again when I reminded
her of friends, so I tried another direction — "and Charlie needs me.
He's just all alone up there, and he can't cook at all."
"You want to stay in Forks?" she asked, bewildered. The idea was
inconceivable to her. And then her eyes flickered back toward Edward.
"Why?"
"I told you — school, Charlie — ouch!" I'd shrugged. Not a good idea.
Her hands fluttered helplessly over me, trying to find a safe place to
pat. She made do with my forehead; it was unbandaged.
"Bella, honey, you hate Forks," she reminded me.
"It's not so bad."
She frowned and looked back and forth between Edward and me, this time
very deliberately.
"Is it this boy?" she whispered.
I opened my mouth to lie, but her eyes were scrutinizing my face, and I
knew she would see through that.
"He's part of it," I admitted. No need to confess how big a part. "So,
have you had a chance to talk with Edward?" I asked.
"Yes." She hesitated, looking at his perfectly still form. "And I want to
talk to you about that."
Uh-oh. "What about?" I asked.
"I think that boy is in love with you," she accused, keeping her voice
low.
"I think so, too," I confided.
"And how do you feel about him?" She only poorly concealed the raging
curiosity in her voice.
I sighed, looking away. As much as I loved my mom, this was not a
conversation I wanted to have with her. "I'm pretty crazy about him."
There — that sounded like something a teenager with her first boyfriend
might say.
"Well, he seems very nice, and, my goodness, he's incredibly
good-looking, but you're so young, Bella…" Her voice was unsure; as far
as I could remember, this was the first time since I was eight that she'd
come close to trying to sound like a parental authority. I recognized the
reasonable-but-firm tone of voice from talks I'd had with her about men.
"I know that, Mom. Don't worry about it. It's just a crush," I soothed
her.
"That's right," she agreed, easily pleased.
Then she sighed and glanced guiltily over her shoulder at the big, round
clock on the wall.
"Do you need to go?"
She bit her lip. "Phil's supposed to call in a little while… I didn't
know you were going to wake up…"
"No problem, Mom." I tried to tone down the relief so she wouldn't get
her feelings hurt. "I won't be alone."
"I'll be back soon. I've been sleeping here, you know," she announced,
proud of herself.
"Oh, Mom, you don't have to do that! You can sleep at home — I'll never
notice." The swirl of painkillers in my brain was making it hard to
concentrate even now, though, apparently, I'd been sleeping for days.
"I was too nervous," she admitted sheepishly. "There's been some crime in
the neighborhood, and I don't like being there alone."
"Crime?" I asked in alarm.
"Someone broke into that dance studio around the corner from the house
and burned it to the ground — there's nothing left at all! And they left
a stolen car right out front. Do you remember when you used to dance
there, honey?"
"I remember." I shivered, and winced.
"I can stay, baby, if you need me."
"No, Mom, I'll be fine. Edward will be with me."
She looked like that might be why she wanted to stay. "I'll be back
tonight." It sounded as much like a warning as it sounded like a promise,
and she glanced at Edward again as she said it.
"I love you, Mom."
"I love you, too, Bella. Try to be more careful when you walk, honey, I
don't want to lose you."
Edward's eyes stayed closed, but a wide grin flashed across his face.
A nurse came bustling in then to check all my tubes and wires. My mother
kissed my forehead, patted my gauze-wrapped hand, and left.
The nurse was checking the paper readout on my heart monitor.
"Are you feeling anxious, honey? Your heart rate got a little high there."
"I'm fine," I assured her.
"I'll tell your RN that you're awake. She'll be in to see you in a
minute."
As soon as she closed the door, Edward was at my side.
"You stole a car?" I raised my eyebrows.
He smiled, unrepentant. "It was a good car, very fast."
"How was your nap?" I asked.
"Interesting." His eyes narrowed.
"What?"
He looked down while he answered. "I'm surprised. I thought Florida… and
your mother… well, I thought that's what you would want."
I stared at him uncomprehendingly. "But you'd be stuck inside all day in
Florida. You'd only be able to come out at night, just like a real
vampire."
He almost smiled, but not quite. And then his face was grave. "I would
stay in Forks, Bella. Or somewhere like it," he explained. "Someplace
where I couldn't hurt you anymore."
It didn't sink in at first. I continued to stare at him blankly as the
words one by one clicked into place in my head like a ghastly puzzle. I
was barely conscious of the sound of my heart accelerating, though, as my
breathing became hyperventilation, I was aware of the sharp aching in my
protesting ribs.
He didn't say anything; he watched my face warily as the pain that had
nothing to do with broken bones, pain that was infinitely worse,
threatened to crush me.
And then another nurse walked purposefully into the room. Edward sat
still as stone as she took in my expression with a practiced eye before
turning to the monitors.
"Time for more pain meds, sweetheart?" she asked kindly, tapping the IV
feed.
"No, no," I mumbled, trying to keep the agony out of my voice. "I don't
need anything." I couldn't afford to close my eyes now.
"No need to be brave, honey. It's better if you don't get too stressed
out; you need to rest." She waited, but I just shook my head.
"Okay," she sighed. "Hit the call button when you're ready."
She gave Edward a stern look, and threw one more anxious glance at the
machinery, before leaving.
His cool hands were on my face; I stared at him with wild eyes.
"Shhh, Bella, calm down."
"Don't leave me," I begged in a broken voice.
"I won't," he promised. "Now relax before I call the nurse back to sedate
you."
But my heart couldn't slow.
"Bella." He stroked my face anxiously. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be
right here as long as you need me."
"Do you swear you won't leave me?" I whispered. I tried to control the
gasping, at least. My ribs were throbbing.
He put his hands on either side of my face and brought his face close to
mine. His eyes were wide and serious. "I swear."
The smell of his breath was soothing. It seemed to ease the ache of my
breathing. He continued to hold my gaze while my body slowly relaxed and
the beeping returned to a normal pace. His eyes were dark, closer to
black than gold today.
"Better?" he asked.
"Yes," I said cautiously.
He shook his head and muttered something unintelligible. I thought I
picked out the word "overreaction."
"Why did you say that?" I whispered, trying to keep my voice from
shaking. "Are you tired of having to save me all the time? Do you want me
to go away?"
"No, I don't want to be without you, Bella, of course not. Be rational.
And I have no problem with saving you, either — if it weren't for the
fact that I was the one putting you in danger… that I'm the reason that
you're here."
"Yes, you are the reason." I frowned. "The reason I'm here — alive."
"Barely." His voice was just a whisper. "Covered in gauze and plaster and
hardly able to move."
"I wasn't referring to my most recent near-death experience," I said,
growing irritated. "I was thinking of the others — you can take your
pick. If it weren't for you, I would be rotting away in the Forks
cemetery."
He winced at my words, but the haunted look didn't leave his eyes.
"That's not the worst part, though," he continued to whisper. He acted as
if I hadn't spoken. "Not seeing you there on the floor… crumpled and
broken." His voice was choked. "Not thinking I was too late. Not even
hearing you scream in pain — all those unbearable memories that I'll
carry with me for the rest of eternity. No, the very worst was feeling…
knowing that I couldn't stop. Believing that I was going to kill you
myself."
"But you didn't."
"I could have. So easily."
I knew I needed to stay calm… but he was trying to talk himself into
leaving me, and the panic fluttered in my lungs, trying to get out.
"Promise me," I whispered.
"What?"
"You know what." I was starting to get angry now. He was so stubbornly
determined to dwell on the negative.
He heard the change in my tone. His eyes tightened. "I don't seem to be
strong enough to stay away from you, so I suppose that you'll get your
way… whether it kills you or not," he added roughly.
"Good." He hadn't promised, though — a fact that I had not missed. The
panic was only barely contained; I had no strength left to control the
anger. "You told me how you stopped… now I want to know why," I demanded.
"Why?" he repeated warily.
"Why you did it. Why didn't you just let the venom spread? By now I would
be just like you."
Edward's eyes seemed to turn flat black, and I remembered that this was
something he'd never intended me to know. Alice must have been
preoccupied by the things she'd learned about herself… or she'd been very
careful with her thoughts around him — clearly, he'd had no idea that
she'd filled me in on the mechanics of vampire conversions. He was
surprised, and infuriated. His nostrils flared, his mouth looked as if it
was chiseled from stone.
He wasn't going to answer, that much was clear.
"I'll be the first to admit that I have no experience with
relationships," I said. "But it just seems logical… a man and woman have
to be somewhat equal… as in, one of them can't always be swooping in and
saving the other one. They have to save each other equally."
He folded his arms on the side of my bed and rested his chin on his arms.
His expression was smooth, the anger reined in. Evidently he'd decided he
wasn't angry with me. I hoped I'd get a chance to warn Alice before he
caught up with her.
"You have saved me," he said quietly.
"I can't always be Lois Lane," I insisted. "I want to be Superman, too."
"You don't know what you're asking." His voice was soft; he stared
intently at the edge of the pillowcase.
"I think I do."
"Bella, you don't know. I've had almost ninety years to think about this,
and I'm still not sure."
"Do you wish that Carlisle hadn't saved you?"
"No, I don't wish that." He paused before continuing. "But my life was
over. I wasn't giving anything up."
"You are my life. You're the only thing it would hurt me to lose." I was
getting better at this. It was easy to admit how much I needed him.
He was very calm, though. Decided.
"I can't do it, Bella. I won't do that to you."
"Why not?" My throat rasped and the words weren't as loud as I'd meant
them to be. "Don't tell me it's too hard! After today, or I guess it was
a few days ago… anyway, after that, it should be nothing."
He glared at me.
"And the pain?" he asked.
I blanched. I couldn't help it. But I tried to keep my expression from
showing how clearly I remembered the feeling… the fire in my veins.
"That's my problem," I said. "I can handle it."
"It's possible to take bravery to the point where it becomes insanity."
"It's not an issue. Three days. Big deal."
Edward grimaced again as my words reminded him that I was more informed
than he had ever intended me to be. I watched him repress the anger,
watched as his eyes grew speculative.
"Charlie?" he asked curtly. "Renée?"
Minutes passed in silence as I struggled to answer his question. I opened
my mouth, but no sound came out. I closed it again. He waited, and his
expression became triumphant because he knew I had no true answer.
"Look, that's not an issue either," I finally muttered; my voice was as
unconvincing as it always was when I lied. "Renée has always made the
choices that work for her — she'd want me to do the same. And Charlie's
resilient, he's used to being on his own. I can't take care of them
forever. I have my own life to live."
"Exactly," he snapped. "And I won't end it for you."
"If you're waiting for me to be on my deathbed, I've got news for you! I
was just there!"
"You're going to recover," he reminded me.
I took a deep breath to calm myself, ignoring the spasm of pain it
triggered. I stared at him, and he stared back. There was no compromise
in his face.
"No," I said slowly. "I'm not."
His forehead creased. "Of course you are. You may have a scar or two…"
"You're wrong," I insisted. "I'm going to die."
"Really, Bella." He was anxious now. "You'll be out of here in a few
days. Two week at most."
I glared at him. "I may not die now… but I'm going to die sometime. Every
minute of the day, I get closer. And I'm going to get old."
He frowned as what I was saying sunk in, pressing his long fingers to his
temples and closing his eyes. "That's how it's supposed to happen. How it
should happen. How it would have happened if I didn't exist — and I
shouldn't exist."
I snorted. He opened his eyes in surprise. "That's stupid. That's like
going to someone who's just won the lottery, taking their money, and
saying, 'Look, let's just go back to how things should be. It's better
that way.' And I'm not buying it."
"I'm hardly a lottery prize," he growled.
"That's right. You're much better."
He rolled his eyes and set his lips. "Bella, we're not having this
discussion anymore. I refuse to damn you to an eternity of night and
that's the end of it."
"If you think that's the end, then you don't know me very well," I warned
him. "You're not the only vampire I know."
His eyes went black again. "Alice wouldn't dare."
And for a moment he looked so frightening that I couldn't help but
believe it — I couldn't imagine someone brave enough to cross him.
"Alice already saw it, didn't she?" I guessed. "That's why the things she
says upset you. She knows I'm going to be like you… someday."
"She's wrong. She also saw you dead, but that didn't happen, either."
"You'll never catch me betting against Alice."
We stared at each other for a very long time. It was quiet except for the
whirring of the machines, the beeping, the dripping, the ticking of the
big clock on the wall. Finally, his expression softened.
"So where does that leave us?" I wondered.
He chuckled humorlessly. "I believe it's called an impasse."
I sighed. "Ouch," I muttered.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, eyeing the button for the nurse.
"I'm fine," I lied.
"I don't believe you," he said gently.
"I'm not going back to sleep."
"You need rest. All this arguing isn't good for you."
"So give in," I hinted.
"Nice try." He reached for the button.
"No!"
He ignored me.
"Yes?" the speaker on the wall squawked.
"I think we're ready for more pain medication," he said calmly, ignoring
my furious expression.
"I'll send in the nurse." The voice sounded very bored.
"I won't take it," I promised.
He looked toward the sack of fluids hanging beside my bed. "I don't think
they're going to ask you to swallow anything."
My heart rate started to climb. He read the fear in my eyes, and sighed
in frustration.
"Bella, you're in pain. You need to relax so you can heal. Why are you
being so difficult? They're not going to put any more needles in you now."
"I'm not afraid of the needles," I mumbled. "I'm afraid to close my eyes."
Then he smiled his crooked smile, and took my face between his hands. "I
told you I'm not going anywhere. Don't be afraid. As long as it makes you
happy, I'll be here."
I smiled back, ignoring the ache in my cheeks. "You're talking about
forever, you know."
"Oh, you'll get over it — it's just a crush."
I shook my head in disbelief— it made me dizzy. "I was shocked when Renée
swallowed that one. I know you know better."
"That's the beautiful thing about being human," he told me. "Things
change."
My eyes narrowed. "Don't hold your breath."
He was laughing when the nurse came in, brandishing a syringe.
"Excuse me," she said brusquely to Edward.
He got up and crossed to the end of the small room, leaning against the
wall. He folded his arms and waited. I kept my eyes on him, still
apprehensive. He met my gaze calmly.
"Here you go, honey." The nurse smiled as she injected the medicine into
my tube. "You'll feel better now."
"Thanks," I mumbled, unenthusiastic. It didn't take long. I could feel
the drowsiness trickling through my bloodstream almost immediately.
"That ought to do it," she muttered as my eyelids drooped.
She must have left the room, because something cold and smooth touched my
face.
"Stay." The word was slurred.
"I will," he promised. His voice was beautiful, like a lullaby. "Like I
said, as long as it makes you happy… as long as it's what's best for you."
I tried to shake my head, but it was too heavy. "'S not the same thing,"
I mumbled.
He laughed. "Don't worry about that now, Bella. You can argue with me
when you wake up."
I think I smiled. '"Kay."
I could feel his lips at my ear.
"I love you," he whispered.
"Me, too."
"I know," he laughed quietly.
I turned my head slightly… searching. He knew what I was after. His lips
touched mine gently.
"Thanks," I sighed.
"Anytime."
I wasn't really there at all anymore. But I fought against the stupor
weakly. There was just one more thing I wanted to tell him.
"Edward?" I struggled to pronounce his name clearly.
"Yes?"
"I'm betting on Alice," I mumbled.
And then the night closed over me.
===========================================================================

EPILOGUE:AN OCCASION
Edward helped me into his car, being very careful of the wisps of silk
and chiffon, the flowers he'd just pinned into my elaborately styled
curls, and my bulky walking cast. He ignored the angry set of my mouth.
When he had me settled, he got in the driver's seat and headed back out
the long, narrow drive.
"At what point exactly are you going to tell me what's going on?" I asked
grumpily. I really hated surprises. And he knew that.
"I'm shocked that you haven't figured it out yet." He threw a mocking
smile in my direction, and my breath caught in my throat. Would I ever
get used to his perfection?
"I did mention that you looked very nice, didn't I?" I verified.
"Yes." He grinned again. I'd never seen him dress in black before, and,
with the contrast against his pale skin, his beauty was absolutely
surreal. That much I couldn't deny, even if the fact that he was wearing
a tuxedo made me very nervous.
Not quite as nervous as the dress. Or the shoe. Only one shoe, as my
other foot was still securely encased in plaster. But the stiletto heel,
held on only by satin ribbons, certainly wasn't going to help me as I
tried to hobble around.
"I'm not coming over anymore if Alice is going to treat me like Guinea
Pig Barbie when I do," I griped. I'd spent the better part of the day in
Alice's staggeringly vast bathroom, a helpless victim as she played
hairdresser and cosmetician. Whenever I fidgeted or complained, she
reminded me that she didn't have any memories of being human, and asked
me not to ruin her vicarious fun. Then she'd dressed me in the most
ridiculous dress — deep blue, frilly and off the shoulders, with French
tags I couldn't read — a dress more suitable for a runway than Forks.
Nothing good could come of our formal attire, of that I was sure. Unless…
but I was afraid to put my suspicions into words, even in my own head.
I was distracted then by the sound of a phone ringing. Edward pulled his
cell phone from a pocket inside his jacket, looking briefly at the caller
ID before answering.
"Hello, Charlie," he said warily.
"Charlie?" I frowned.
Charlie had been… difficult since my return to Forks. He had
compartmentalized my bad experience into two defined reactions. Toward
Carlisle he was almost worshipfully grateful. On the other hand, he was
stubbornly convinced that Edward was at fault — because, if not for him,
I wouldn't have left home in the first place. And Edward was far from
disagreeing with him. These days I had rules that hadn't existed before:
curfews… visiting hours.
Something Charlie was saying made Edward's eyes widen in disbelief, and
then a grin spread across his face.
"You're kidding!" He laughed.
"What is it?" I demanded.
He ignored me. "Why don't you let me talk to him?" Edward suggested with
evident pleasure. He waited for a few seconds.
"Hello, Tyler, this is Edward Cullen." His voice was very friendly, on
the surface. I knew it well enough to catch the soft edge of menace. What
was Tyler doing at my house? The awful truth began to dawn on me. I
looked again at the inappropriate dress Alice had forced me into.
"I'm sorry if there's been some kind of miscommunication, but Bella is
unavailable tonight." Edward's tone changed, and the threat in his voice
was suddenly much more evident as he continued. "To be perfectly honest,
she'll be unavailable every night, as far as anyone besides myself is
concerned. No offense. And I'm sorry about your evening." He didn't sound
sorry at all. And then he snapped the phone shut, a huge smirk on his
face.
My face and neck flushed crimson with anger. I could feel the
rage-induced tears starting to fill my eyes.
He looked at me in surprise. "Was that last part a bit too much? I didn't
mean to offend you."
I ignored that.
"You're taking me to the prom!" I yelled.
It was embarrassingly obvious now. If I'd been paying any attention at
all, I'm sure I would have noticed the date on the posters that decorated
the school buildings. But I'd never dreamed he was thinking of subjecting
me to this. Didn't he know me at all?
He wasn't expecting the force of my reaction, that was clear. He pressed
his lips together and his eyes narrowed. "Don't be difficult, Bella."
My eyes flashed to the window; we were halfway to the school already.
"Why are you doing this to me?" I demanded in horror.
He gestured to his tuxedo. "Honestly, Bella, what did you think we were
doing?"
I was mortified. First, because I'd missed the obvious. And also because
the vague suspicions — expectations, really — that I'd been forming all
day, as Alice tried to transform me into a beauty queen, were so far wide
of the mark. My half-fearful hopes seemed very silly now.
I'd guessed there was some kind of occasion brewing. But prom! That was
the furthest thing from my mind.
The angry tears rolled over my cheeks. I remembered with dismay that I
was very uncharacteristically wearing mascara. I wiped quickly under my
eyes to prevent any smudges. My hand was unblackened when I pulled it
away; maybe Alice had known I would need waterproof makeup.
"This is completely ridiculous. Why are you crying?" he demanded in
frustration.
"Because I'm mad!"
"Bella." He turned the full force of his scorching golden eyes on me.
"What?" I muttered, distracted.
"Humor me," he insisted.
His eyes were melting all my fury. It was impossible to fight with him
when he cheated like that. I gave in with poor grace.
"Fine," I pouted, unable to glare as effectively as I would have liked.
"I'll go quietly. But you'll see. I'm way overdue for more bad luck. I'll
probably break my other leg. Look at this shoe! It's a death trap!" I
held out my good leg as evidence.
"Hmmm." He stared at my leg longer than was necessary. "Remind me to
thank Alice for that tonight."
"Alice is going to be there?" That comforted me slightly.
"With Jasper, and Emmett… and Rosalie," he admitted.
The feeling of comfort disappeared. There had been no progress with
Rosalie, though I was on quite good terms with her sometimes-husband.
Emmett enjoyed having me around — he thought my bizarre human reactions
were hilarious… or maybe it was just the fact that I fell down a lot that
he found so funny. Rosalie acted as if I didn't exist. While I shook my
head to dispel the direction my thoughts had taken, I thought of
something else.
"Is Charlie in on this?" I asked, suddenly suspicious.
"Of course." He grinned, and then chuckled. "Apparently Tyler wasn't,
though."
I gritted my teeth. How Tyler could be so delusional, I couldn't imagine.
At school, where Charlie couldn't interfere, Edward and I were
inseparable — except for those rare sunny days.
We were at the school now; Rosalie's red convertible was conspicuous in
the parking lot. The clouds were thin today, a few streaks of sunlight
escaping through far away in the west.
He got out and walked around the car to open my door. He held out his
hand.
I sat stubbornly in my seat, arms folded, feeling a secret twinge of
smugness. The lot was crowded with people in formal dress: witnesses. He
couldn't remove me forcibly from the car as he might have if we'd been
alone.
He sighed. "When someone wants to kill you, you're brave as a lion — and
then when someone mentions dancing…" He shook his head.
I gulped. Dancing.
"Bella, I won't let anything hurt you — not even yourself. I won't let go
of you once, I promise."
I thought about that and suddenly felt much better. He could see that in
my face.
"There, now," he said gently, "it won't be so bad." He leaned down and
wrapped one arm around my waist. I took his other hand and let him lift
me from the car.
He kept his arm tightly around me, supporting me as I limped toward the
school.
In Phoenix, they held proms in hotel ballrooms. This dance was in the
gym, of course. It was probably the only room in town big enough for a
dance. When we got inside, I giggled. There were actual balloon arches
and twisted garlands of pastel crepe paper festooning the walls.
"This looks like a horror movie waiting to happen," I snickered.
"Well," he muttered as we slowly approached the ticket table — he was
carrying most of my weight, but I still had to shuffle and wobble my feet
forward — "there are more than enough vampires present."
I looked at the dance floor; a wide gap had formed in the center of the
floor, where two couples whirled gracefully. The other dancers pressed to
the sides of the room to give them space — no one wanted to stand in
contrast with such radiance. Emmett and Jasper were intimidating and
flawless in classic tuxedos. Alice was striking in a black satin dress
with geometric cutouts that bared large triangles of her snowy white
skin. And Rosalie was… well, Rosalie. She was beyond belief. Her vivid
scarlet dress was backless, tight to her calves where it flared into a
wide ruffled train, with a neckline that plunged to her waist. I pitied
every girl in the room, myself included.
"Do you want me to bolt the doors so you can massacre the unsuspecting
townsfolk?" I whispered conspiratorially.
"And where do you fit into that scheme?" He glared.
"Oh, I'm with the vampires, of course."
He smiled reluctantly. "Anything to get out of dancing."
"Anything."
He bought our tickets, then turned me toward the dance floor. I cringed
against his arm and dragged my feet.
"I've got all night," he warned.
Eventually he towed me out to where his family was twirling elegantly —
if in a style totally unsuitable to the present time and music. I watched
in horror.
"Edward." My throat was so dry I could only manage a whisper. "I honestly
can't dance!" I could feel the panic bubbling up inside my chest.
"Don't worry, silly," he whispered back. "I can." He put my arms around
his neck and lifted me to slide his feet under mine.
And then we were whirling, too.
"I feel like I'm five years old," I laughed after a few minutes of
effortless waltzing.
"You don't look five," he murmured, pulling me closer for a second, so
that my feet were briefly a foot from the ground.
Alice caught my eye on a turn and smiled in encouragement — I smiled
back. I was surprised to realize that I was actually enjoying myself… a
little.
"Okay, this isn't half bad," I admitted.
But Edward was staring toward the doors, and his face was angry.
"What is it?" I wondered aloud. I followed his gaze, disoriented by the
spinning, but finally I could see what was bothering him. Jacob Black,
not in a tux, but in a long-sleeved white shirt and tie, his hair
smoothed back into his usual ponytail, was crossing the floor toward us.
After the first shock of recognition, I couldn't help but feel bad for
Jacob. He was clearly uncomfortable — excruciatingly so. His face was
apologetic as his eyes met mine.
Edward snarled very quietly.
"Behave!" I hissed.
Edward's voice was scathing. "He wants to chat with you."
Jacob reached us then, the embarrassment and apology even more evident on
his face.
"Hey, Bella, I was hoping you would be here." Jacob sounded like he'd
been hoping the exact opposite. But his smile was just as warm as ever.
"Hi, Jacob." I smiled back. "What's up?"
"Can I cut in?" he asked tentatively, glancing at Edward for the first
time. I was shocked to notice that Jacob didn't have to look up. He must
have grown half a foot since the first time I'd seen him.
Edward's face was composed, his expression blank. His only answer was to
set me carefully on my feet, and take a step back.
"Thanks," Jacob said amiably.
Edward just nodded, looking at me intently before he turned to walk away.
Jacob put his hands on my waist, and I reached up to put my hands on his
shoulders.
"Wow, Jake, how tall are you now?"
He was smug. "Six-two."
We weren't really dancing — my leg made that impossible. Instead we
swayed awkwardly from side to side without moving our feet. It was just
as well; the recent growth spurt had left him looking gangly and
uncoordinated, he was probably no better a dancer than I was.
"So, how did you end up here tonight?" I asked without true curiosity.
Considering Edward's reaction, I could guess.
"Can you believe my dad paid me twenty bucks to come to your prom?" he
admitted, slightly ashamed.
"Yes, I can," I muttered. "Well, I hope you're enjoying yourself, at
least. Seen anything you like?" I teased, nodding toward a group of girls
lined up against the wall like pastel confections.
"Yeah," he sighed. "But she's taken."
He glanced down to meet my curious gaze for just a second — then we both
looked away, embarrassed.
"You look really pretty, by the way," he added shyly.
"Um, thanks. So why did Billy pay you to come here?" I asked quickly,
though I knew the answer.
Jacob didn't seem grateful for the subject change; he looked away,
uncomfortable again. "He said it was a 'safe' place to talk to you. I
swear the old man is losing his mind."
I joined in his laughter weakly.
"Anyway, he said that if I told you something, he would get me that
master cylinder I need," he confessed with a sheepish grin.
"Tell me, then. I want you to get your car finished." I grinned back. At
least Jacob didn't believe any of this. It made the situation a bit
easier. Against the wall, Edward was watching my face, his own face
expressionless. I saw a sophomore in a pink dress eyeing him with timid
speculation, but he didn't seem to be aware of her.
Jacob looked away again, ashamed. "Don't get mad, okay?"
"There's no way I'll be mad at you, Jacob," I assured him. "I won't even
be mad at Billy. Just say what you have to."
"Well — this is so stupid, I'm sorry, Bella — he wants you to break up
with your boyfriend. He asked me to tell you 'please.'" He shook his head
in disgust.
"He's still superstitious, eh?"
"Yeah. He was… kind of over the top when you got hurt down in Phoenix. He
didn't believe…"Jacob trailed off self-consciously.
My eyes narrowed. "I fell."
"I know that," Jacob said quickly.
"He thinks Edward had something to do with me getting hurt." It wasn't a
question, and despite my promise, I was angry.
Jacob wouldn't meet my eyes. We weren't even bothering to sway to the
music, though his hands were still on my waist, and mine around his neck.
"Look, Jacob, I know Billy probably won't believe this, but just so you
know" — he looked at me now, responding to the new earnestness in my
voice — "Edward really did save my life. If it weren't for Edward and his
father, I'd be dead."
"I know," he claimed, but he sounded like my sincere words had affected
him some. Maybe he'd be able to convince Billy of this much, at least.
"Hey, I'm sorry you had to come do this, Jacob," I apologized. "At any
rate, you get your parts, right?"
"Yeah," he muttered. He was still looking awkward… upset.
"There's more?" I asked in disbelief.
"Forget it," he mumbled, "I'll get a job and save the money myself."
I glared at him until he met my gaze. "Just spit it out, Jacob."
"It's so bad."
"I don't care. Tell me," I insisted.
"Okay… but, geez, this sounds bad." He shook his head. "He said to tell
you, no, to warn you, that — and this is his plural, not mine" — he
lifted one hand from my waist and made little quotations marks in the air
— '"We'll be watching.'" He watched warily for my reaction.
It sounded like something from a mafia movie. I laughed out loud.
"Sorry you had to do this, Jake," I snickered.
"I don't mind that much." He grinned in relief. His eyes were appraising
as they raked quickly over my dress. "So, should I tell him you said to
butt the hell out?" he asked hopefully.
"No," I sighed. "Tell him I said thanks. I know he means well."
The song ended, and I dropped my arms.
His hands hesitated at my waist, and he glanced at my bum leg. "Do you
want to dance again? Or can I help you get somewhere?"
Edward answered for me. "That's all right, Jacob. I'll take it from here."
Jacob flinched, and stared wide-eyed at Edward, who stood just beside us.
"Hey, I didn't see you there," he mumbled. "I guess I'll see you around,
Bella." He stepped back, waving halfheartedly.
I smiled. "Yeah, I'll see you later."
"Sorry," he said again before he turned for the door.
Edward's arms wound around me as the next song started. It was a little
up-tempo for slow dancing, but that didn't seem to concern him. I leaned
my head against his chest, content.
"Feeling better?" I teased.
"Not really," he said tersely.
"Don't be mad at Billy," I sighed. "He just worries about me for
Charlie's sake. It's nothing personal."
"I'm not mad at Billy," he corrected in a clipped voice. "But his son is
irritating me."
I pulled back to look at him. His face was very serious.
"Why?"
"First of all, he made me break my promise."
I stared at him in confusion.
He half-smiled. "I promised I wouldn't let go of you tonight," he
explained.
"Oh. Well, I forgive you."
"Thanks. But there's something else." Edward frowned.
I waited patiently.
"He called you pretty," he finally continued, his frown deepening.
"That's practically an insult, the way you look right now. You're much
more than beautiful."
I laughed. "You might be a little biased."
"I don't think that's it. Besides, I have excellent eyesight."
We were twirling again, my feet on his as he held me close.
"So are you going to explain the reason for all of this?" I wondered.
He looked down at me, confused, and I glared meaningfully at the crepe
paper.
He considered for a moment, and then changed direction, spinning me
through the crowd to the back door of the gym. I caught a glimpse of
Jessica and Mike dancing, staring at me curiously. Jessica waved, and I
smiled back quickly. Angela was there, too, looking blissfully happy in
the arms of little Ben Cheney; she didn't look up from his eyes, a head
lower than hers. Lee and Samantha, Lauren, glaring toward us, with
Conner; I could name every face that spiraled past me. And then we were
outdoors, in the cool, dim light of a fading sunset.
As soon as we were alone, he swung me up into his arms, and carried me
across the dark grounds till he reached the bench beneath the shadow of
the madrone trees. He sat there, keeping me cradled against his chest.
The moon was already up, visible through the gauzy clouds, and his face
glowed pale in the white light. His mouth was hard, his eyes troubled.
"The point?" I prompted softly.
He ignored me, staring up at the moon.
"Twilight, again," he murmured. "Another ending. No matter how perfect
the day is, it always has to end."
"Some things don't have to end," I muttered through my teeth, instantly
tense.
He sighed.
"I brought you to the prom," he said slowly, finally answering my
question, "because I don't want you to miss anything. I don't want my
presence to take anything away from you, if I can help it. I want you to
be human. I want your life to continue as it would have if I'd died in
nineteen-eighteen like I should have."
I shuddered at his words, and then shook my head angrily. "In what
strange parallel dimension would I ever have gone to prom of my own free
will? If you weren't a thousand times stronger than me, I would never
have let you get away with this."
He smiled briefly, but it didn't touch his eyes. "It wasn't so bad, you
said so yourself."
"That's because I was with you."
We were quiet for a minute; he stared at the moon and I stared at him. I
wished there was some way to explain how very uninterested I was in a
normal human life.
"Will you tell me something?" he asked, glancing down at me with a slight
smile.
"Don't I always?"
"Just promise you'll tell me," he insisted, grinning.
I knew I was going to regret this almost instantly. "Fine."
"You seemed honestly surprised when you figured out that I was taking you
here," he began.
"I was," I interjected.
"Exactly," he agreed. "But you must have had some other theory… I'm
curious — what did you think I was dressing you up for?"
Yes, instant regret. I pursed my lips, hesitating. "I don't want to tell
you."
"You promised," he objected.
"I know."
"What's the problem?"
I knew he thought it was mere embarrassment holding me back. "I think it
will make you mad — or sad."
His brows pulled together over his eyes as he thought that through. "I
still want to know. Please?"
I sighed. He waited.
"Well… I assumed it was some kind of… occasion. But I didn't think it
would be some trite human thing… prom!" I scoffed.
"Human?" he asked flatly. He'd picked up on the key word.
I looked down at my dress, fidgeting with a stray piece of chiffon. He
waited in silence.
"Okay," I confessed in a rush. "So I was hoping that you might have
changed your mind… that you were going to change me, after all."
A dozen emotions played across his face. Some I recognized: anger… pain…
and then he seemed to collect himself and his expression became amused.
"You thought that would be a black tie occasion, did you?" he teased,
touching the lapel of his tuxedo jacket.
I scowled to hide my embarrassment. "I don't know how these things work.
To me, at least, it seems more rational than prom does." He was still
grinning. "It's not funny," I said.
"No, you're right, it's not," he agreed, his smile fading. "I'd rather
treat it like a joke, though, than believe you're serious."
"But I am serious."
He sighed deeply. "I know. And you're really that willing?"
The pain was back in his eyes. I bit my lip and nodded.
"So ready for this to be the end," he murmured, almost to himself, "for
this to be the twilight of your life, though your life has barely
started. You're ready to give up everything."
"It's not the end, it's the beginning," I disagreed under my breath.
"I'm not worth it," he said sadly.
"Do you remember when you told me that I didn't see myself very clearly?"
I asked, raising my eyebrows. "You obviously have the same blindness."
"I know what I am."
I sighed.
But his mercurial mood shifted on me. He pursed his lips, and his eyes
were probing. He examined my face for a long moment.
"You're ready now, then?" he asked.
"Um." I gulped. "Yes?"
He smiled, and inclined his head slowly until his cold lips brushed
against the skin just under the corner of my jaw.
"Right now?" he whispered, his breath blowing cool on my neck. I shivered
involuntarily.
"Yes," I whispered, so my voice wouldn't have a chance to break. If he
thought I was bluffing, he was going to be disappointed. I'd already made
this decision, and I was sure. It didn't matter that my body was rigid as
a plank, my hands balled into fists, my breathing erratic…
He chuckled darkly, and leaned away. His face did look disappointed.
"You can't really believe that I would give in so easily," he said with a
sour edge to his mocking tone.
"A girl can dream."
His eyebrows rose. "Is that what you dream about? Being a monster?"
"Not exactly," I said, frowning at his word choice. Monster, indeed.
"Mostly I dream about being with you forever."
His expression changed, softened and saddened by the subtle ache in my
voice.
"Bella." His fingers lightly traced the shape of my lips. "I will stay
with you — isn't that enough?"
I smiled under his fingertips. "Enough for now."
He frowned at my tenacity. No one was going to surrender tonight. He
exhaled, and the sound was practically a growl.
I touched his face. "Look," I said. "I love you more than everything else
in the world combined. Isn't that enough?"
"Yes, it is enough," he answered, smiling. "Enough for forever."
And he leaned down to press his cold lips once more to my throat.
===========================================================================

Acknowledgments
A huge thank you to:
my parents, Steve and Candy,
for a lifetime of love and support,S
for reading great books to me when I was young,
and for still holding my hand through the
things that make me nervous;
my husband, Pancho, and my sons, Gabe, Seth, and Eli,
for sharing me so often with my imaginary friends;
my friends at Writers House,
Genevieve Gagne-Hawes, for giving me that first chance,
and my agent Jodi Reamer, for turning the most
unlikely dreams into realities;
my editor Megan Tingley, for all her help in
making Twilight better than it started out;
my brothers, Paul and Jacob, for their expert advice on all
my automotive questions; and my online family,
the talented staff and writers at fansofrealitytv.com,
particularly Kimberly "Shazzer," and Collin "Mantenna"
for the encouragement, advice,
and inspiration.
 
The End