No, I was calmer, but not better. Because I’d just realized that I could not kill the fiend named Lanny. The only thing in this moment that I wanted more than to commit a highly justifiable murder was this girl. And though I couldn’t have her, just the dream of having her made it impossible for me to go on a killing spree tonight.
Bella deserved better than a killer.
I’d spent more than seven decades trying to be something—anything—other than a killer. Those years of effort could never make me worthy of the girl sitting beside me. And yet, I felt that if I returned to that life for even one night, I would surely put her out of my reach forever. Even if I didn’t drink their blood—even if I didn’t have that evidence blazing red in my eyes—wouldn’t she sense the difference?
I was trying to be good enough for her. It was an impossible goal. But I couldn’t bear the thought of giving up.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered.
Her scent filled my nose, and I was reminded why I could not deserve her. After all this, even as much as I loved her… she still made my mouth water.
I would give her as much honesty as I could. I owed her that.
“Sometimes I have a problem with my temper, Bella.” I stared out into the black night, wishing both that she would hear the horror inherent in my words and that she would not. Mostly that she would not. Run, Bella, run. Stay, Bella, stay. “But it wouldn’t be helpful for me to turn around and hunt down those…” Just thinking about it almost pulled me from the car. I took a deep breath, letting her scent scorch down my throat. “At least, that’s what I’m trying to convince myself.”
“Oh.”
She said nothing else. How much had she understood? I glanced at her furtively, but her face was unreadable. Blank with shock, perhaps. Well, she wasn’t screaming in horror. Not yet.
“Jessica and Angela will be worried,” she said quietly. Her voice was very calm, and I was not sure how that could be. Was she in shock? Maybe tonight’s events hadn’t sunk in for her yet. “I was supposed to meet them.”
Did she want to be away from me? Or was she just concerned about her friends’ worry?
I didn’t answer her but started the car and took her back. The nearer I got to the town, the harder it was to hold on to my purpose. I was just so close to him.…
If it was impossible—if I could never belong to nor deserve this girl—then where was the sense in letting the man go unpunished? Surely I could allow myself that much.
No. I wasn’t giving up. Not yet. I wanted her too much to surrender.
We were at the restaurant where she was supposed to meet her friends before I’d even begun to make sense of my thoughts. Jessica and Angela were finished eating, and both now truly worried about Bella. They were on their way to search for her, heading off along the dark street.
It was not a good night for them to be wandering.
“How did you know where…?” Bella’s unfinished question interrupted me, and I realized that I had made yet another gaffe. I’d been too distracted to remember to ask her where she was supposed to meet her friends.
But instead of finishing the inquiry and pressing the point, Bella just shook her head and half smiled.
What did that mean?
Well, I didn’t have time to puzzle over her strange acceptance of my stranger knowledge. I opened my door.
“What are you doing?” she asked, sounding startled.
Not letting you out of my sight. Not allowing myself to be alone tonight. In that order.“I’m taking you to dinner.”
Well, this should be interesting. It seemed like another night entirely when I’d imagined bringing Alice along and pretending to choose the same restaurant as Bella and her friends by accident. And now here I was, practically on a date with the girl. Only it didn’t count, because I wasn’t giving her a chance to say no.
She already had her door half-open before I’d walked around the car—it wasn’t usually so frustrating to have to move at an inconspicuous speed—instead of allowing me to get it for her.
I waited for her to join me, getting more anxious as her girlfriends continued toward the dark corner.
“Go stop Jessica and Angela before I have to track them down, too,” I ordered quickly. “I don’t think I could restrain myself if I ran into your other friends again.” No, I would not be strong enough for that.
She shuddered, and then quickly collected herself. She took half a step after them, calling, “Jess! Angela!” in a loud voice. They turned, and she waved her arm over her head to catch their attention.
Bella! Oh, she’s safe!Angela thought with relief.
Late much?Jessica grumbled to herself, but she, too, was thankful that Bella wasn’t lost or hurt. This made me like her a little more than I had.
They hurried back, and then stopped, shocked, when they saw me beside her.
Uh-uh! Jess thought, stunned. No freaking way!
EdwardCullen? Did she go away by herself to find him? But why would she ask about them being out of town if she knew he was here…? I got a brief flash of Bella’s mortified expression when she’d asked Angela if my family was often absent from school. No, she couldn’t have known, Angela decided.
Jessica’s thoughts were moving past the surprise and on to suspicion. Bella’s been holding out on me.
“Where have you been?” she demanded, staring at Bella, but peeking at me from the corner of her eye.
“I got lost. And then I ran into Edward,” Bella said, waving one hand toward me. Her tone was remarkably normal. As though that were truly all that had happened.
She must be in shock. That was the only explanation for her calm.
“Would it be all right if I joined you?” I asked—to be polite. I knew that they’d already eaten.
Holycrap but he’s hot! Jessica thought, her head suddenly slightly incoherent.
Angela wasn’t much more composed. Wish we hadn’t eaten. Wow. Just. Wow.
Now why couldn’t I do that to Bella?
“Er… sure,” Jessica agreed.
Angela frowned. “Um, actually, Bella, we already ate while we were waiting,” she admitted. “Sorry.”
Shut up!Jessica complained internally.
Bella shrugged casually. So at ease. Definitely in shock. “That’s fine—I’m not hungry.”
“I think you should eat something,” I disagreed. She needed sugar in her bloodstream—though it smelled sweet enough as it was, I thought wryly. The horror was going to come crashing down on her momentarily, and an empty stomach wouldn’t help. She was an easy fainter, as I knew from experience.
These girls wouldn’t be in any danger if they went straight home. Danger didn’t stalk their every step.
And I’d rather be alone with Bella—as long as she was willing to be alone with me.
“Do you mind if I drive Bella home tonight?” I said to Jessica before Bella could respond. “That way you won’t have to wait while she eats.”
“Uh, no problem, I guess.…” Jessica stared intently at Bella, looking for some sign that this was what she wanted.
She probably wants him to herself. Who wouldn’t?Jess thought. At the same time, she watched Bella wink.
Bella winked?
“Okay,” Angela said quickly, in a hurry to be out of the way if that was what Bella wanted. And it seemed that she did want that. “See you tomorrow, Bella… Edward.” She struggled to say my name in a casual tone. Then she grabbed Jessica’s hand and began towing her away.
I would find some way to thank Angela for this.
Jessica’s car was close by in a bright circle of light cast by a streetlamp. Bella watched them carefully, a little crease of concern between her eyes, until they were in the car, so she must be somewhat aware of the danger she’d been in. Jessica waved as she drove away, and Bella waved back. It wasn’t until the car disappeared that she took a deep breath and turned to look up at me.
“Honestly, I’m not hungry,” she said.
Why had she waited for them to be gone before speaking? Did she truly want to be alone with me—even now, after witnessing my literal homicidal rage?
Whether or not that was the case, she was going to eat something.
“Humor me,” I said.
I held the restaurant door open for her and waited.
She sighed and walked through.
I walked beside her to the podium where the hostess waited. Bella still seemed entirely self-possessed. I wanted to touch her hand, her forehead, to check her temperature. But my cold hand would repulse her, as it had before.
Oh my.The hostess’s rather loud mental voice intruded into my consciousness. My, oh my.
It seemed to be my night to turn heads. Or was I only noticing it more because I wished so much that Bella would see me this way? We were always attractive to our prey, but I’d never thought so much about it before. Usually—unless, as with people like Shelly Cope and Jessica Stanley, there was constant repetition to dull the horror—the fear kicked in fairly quickly after the initial attraction.
“A table for two?” I prompted when the hostess didn’t speak.
Mmm! What a voice!“Oh, er, yes. Welcome to La Bella Italia. Please follow me.” Her thoughts were preoccupied—calculating.
Maybe she’s his cousin. She couldn’t be his sister, they don’t look anything alike. But family, definitely.He can’t be with her.
Human eyes were clouded; they saw nothing clearly. How could this small-minded woman find my physical lures—snares for prey—so attractive and yet be unable to see the soft perfection of the girl beside me?
Well, no need to help her out, just in case, the hostess thought as she led us to a family-sized table in the middle of the most crowded part of the restaurant. Can I give him my number while she’s there? she mused.
I pulled a bill from my back pocket. People were invariably cooperative when money was involved.
Bella was already taking the seat the hostess indicated without objection. I shook my head at her, and she hesitated, cocking her head to one side with curiosity. Yes, she would be very curious tonight. A crowd was not the ideal place for this conversation.
“Perhaps something more private?” I requested of the hostess, handing her the money. She started, surprised, and then her hand curled around the tip.
“Sure.”
She peeked at the bill while she led us around a dividing wall.
Fifty dollars for a better table? Rich, too. That makes sense—I bet his jacket cost more than my last paycheck. Damn. Why does he want privacy withher?
She offered us a booth in a quiet corner of the restaurant where no one would be able to see us—to see Bella’s reactions to whatever I would tell her. I had no clue as to what she would want from me tonight. Or what I would give her.
How much had she guessed? What explanation of tonight’s events had she invented to make sense of it all?
“How’s this?” the hostess asked.
“Perfect,” I told her and, feeling slightly annoyed by her resentful attitude toward Bella, smiled widely at her, baring my teeth. Let her see me clearly.
Whoa.“Um… your server will be right out.” He can’t be real. Maybe she’ll disappear… maybe I’ll write my number on his plate with marinara. She wandered away, listing slightly to the side.
Odd. She still wasn’t frightened. I suddenly remembered Emmett teasing me in the cafeteria, so many weeks ago. I’ll bet I could have frightened her better than that.
Was I losing my edge?
“You really shouldn’t do that to people.” Bella interrupted my thoughts in a disapproving tone. “It’s hardly fair.”
I stared at her critical expression. What did she mean? I hadn’t frightened the hostess at all, despite my intentions. “Do what?”
“Dazzle them like that—she’s probably hyperventilating in the kitchen right now.”
Hmm. Bella was very nearly right. The hostess was only semi-coherent at the moment, describing her incorrect assessment of me to her friend on the waitstaff.
“Oh, come on,” Bella chided me when I didn’t answer immediately. “You have to know the effect you have on people.”
“I dazzle people?” That was an interesting way of phrasing it. Accurate enough for tonight. I wondered why the difference.…
“You haven’t noticed?” she asked, still critical. “Do you think everybody gets their way so easily?”
“Do I dazzle you?” I voiced my curiosity impulsively, and then the words were out, and it was too late to recall them.
But before I had time to regret too deeply speaking the words aloud, she answered, “Frequently.” And her cheeks took on a faint pink glow.
I dazzled her.
My silent heart swelled with a hope more intense than I could ever remember having felt before.
“Hello,” someone said—the waitress, introducing herself. Her thoughts were loud, and more explicit than the hostess’s, but I tuned her out. I stared at Bella instead, watching the blood spreading across her cheekbones, noticing not how that made my throat flame, but rather how it brightened her fair face, how it set off the cream of her skin.
The waitress was waiting for something from me. Ah, she’d asked for our drink order. I continued to gaze at Bella, and the waitress grudgingly turned to look at her, too.
“I’ll have a Coke?” Bella said, as if asking for approval.
“Two Cokes,” I amended. Thirst—normal, human thirst—was a sign of shock. I would make sure she had the extra sugar from the soda in her system.
She looked healthy, though. More than healthy. She looked radiant.
“What?” she demanded—wondering why I was staring, I guessed. I was vaguely aware that the waitress had left.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
She blinked, surprised by the question. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t feel dizzy, sick, cold?”
She was even more confused now. “Should I?”
“Well, I’m actually waiting for you to go into shock.” I half smiled, expecting her denial. She would not want to be taken care of.
It took her a moment to answer me. Her eyes were slightly unfocused. She looked that way sometimes when I smiled at her. Was she… dazzled?
I would have loved to believe that.
“I don’t think that will happen. I’ve always been very good at repressing unpleasant things,” she answered, a little breathless.
Did she have a lot of practice with unpleasant things, then? Was her life always this hazardous?
“Just the same,” I told her, “I’ll feel better when you have some sugar and food in you.”
The waitress returned with the Cokes and a basket of bread. She put them in front of me and asked for my order, trying to catch my eye in the process. I indicated that she should attend to Bella, and then went back to tuning her out. She had a vulgar mind.
“Um…” Bella glanced quickly at the menu. “I’ll have the mushroom ravioli.”
The waitress turned back to me eagerly. “And you?”
“Nothing for me.”
Bella made a slight face. Hmm. She must have noticed that I never ate food. She noticed everything. And I always forgot to be careful around her.
I waited till we were alone again.
“Drink,” I insisted.
I was surprised when she complied immediately and without objection. She drank until the glass was entirely empty, so I pushed the second Coke toward her, frowning a little. Thirst, or shock?
She drank a little more, and then shuddered once.
“Are you cold?”
“It’s just the Coke,” she said, but she shivered again, her lips trembling slightly as if her teeth were about to chatter.
The pretty blouse she wore looked too thin to protect her adequately. It clung to her like a second skin, almost as fragile as the first. “Don’t you have a jacket?”
“Yes.” She looked around herself, a little perplexed. “Oh—I left it in Jessica’s car.”
I pulled off my jacket, wishing that the gesture was not marred by my body temperature. It would have been nice to offer her a warm coat. She stared at me, her cheeks flushing again. What was she thinking now?
I handed her the jacket across the table, and she put it on at once, and then shuddered again.
Yes, it would be very nice to be warm.
“Thanks,” she said. She took a deep breath, and then pushed the too-long sleeves back to free her hands. She took another deep breath.
Was the evening finally settling in? Her color was still good. Her skin was cream and roses against the deep blue of her shirt.
“That color blue looks lovely with your skin,” I complimented her. Just being honest.
She looked well, but there was no point in taking chances. I pushed the basket of bread toward her.
“Really,” she objected, guessing my motives. “I’m not going into shock.”
“You should be—a normal person would be. You don’t even look shaken.” I stared at her, disapproving, wondering why she couldn’t be normal and then wondering whether I really wanted her to be that way.
“I feel very safe with you,” she explained, her eyes again filled with trust. Trust I didn’t deserve.
Her instincts were all wrong—backward. That must be the problem. She didn’t recognize danger the way a human being should be able to. She had the opposite reaction. Instead of running, she lingered, drawn to what should frighten her.
How could I protect her from myself when neither of us wanted that?
“This is more complicated than I’d planned,” I murmured.
I could see her turning my words over in her head, and I wondered what she made of them. She took a breadstick and began to eat without seeming aware of the action. She chewed for a moment, and then leaned her head to one side thoughtfully.
“Usually you’re in a better mood when your eyes are so light,” she said in a casual tone.
Her observation, stated so matter-of-factly, left me reeling. “What?”
“You’re always crabbier when your eyes are black—I expect it then. I have a theory about that,” she added lightly.
So she had come up with her own explanation. Of course she had. I felt a deep sense of dread as I wondered how close she’d come to the truth.
“More theories?”
“Mm-hm.” She chewed on another bite, entirely nonchalant. As if she weren’t discussing the aspects of a demon with the demon himself.
“I hope you were more creative this time,” I lied when she didn’t continue. What I really hoped was that she was wrong—miles wide of the mark. “Or are you still stealing from comic books?”
“Well, no, I didn’t get it from a comic book,” she said, a little embarrassed. “But I didn’t come up with it on my own, either.”
“And?” I asked between my teeth.
Surely she would not speak so calmly if she were about to scream.
As she hesitated, biting her lip, the waitress reappeared with Bella’s food. I paid the server little attention as she set the plate in front of Bella and then asked if I wanted anything.
I declined, but asked for more Coke. The waitress hadn’t noticed the empty glasses.
“You were saying?” I prompted anxiously as soon as Bella and I were alone again.
“I’ll tell you about it in the car,” she said in a low voice. Ah, this would be bad. She wasn’t willing to speak her guesses around others. “If…,” she tacked on suddenly.
“There are conditions?” I was so tense I almost growled the words.
“I do have a few questions, of course.”
“Of course,” I agreed, my voice hard.
Her questions would probably be enough to tell me where her thoughts were heading. But how would I answer them? With responsible lies? Or would I drive her away with truth? Or would I say nothing, unable to decide?
We sat in silence while the waitress replenished her supply of soda.
“Well, go ahead,” I said, jaw locked, when she was gone.
“Why are you in Port Angeles?”
That was too easy a question—for her. It gave away nothing, while my answer, if truthful, would give away much too much. Let her reveal something first.
“Next,” I said.
“But that’s the easiest one!’
“Next,” I said again.
She was frustrated by my refusal. She looked away from me, down at her food. Slowly, thinking hard, she took a bite and chewed with deliberation.
Suddenly, as she ate, a strange comparison entered my head. For just a second, I saw Persephone, pomegranate in hand. Dooming herself to the underworld.
Is that who I was? Hades himself, coveting springtime, stealing it, condemning it to endless night. I tried unsuccessfully to shake the impression.
She washed her bite down with more Coke, and then finally looked up at me. Her eyes were narrow with suspicion.
“Okay then,” she said. “Let’s say, hypothetically, of course, that… someone… could know what people are thinking, read minds, you know—with a few exceptions.”
It could be worse.
This explained that little half smile in the car. She was quick—no one else had ever guessed this about me. Except for Carlisle, and it had been rather obvious then, in the beginning, when I’d answered all his thoughts as if he’d spoken them to me. He’d understood before I had.
This question wasn’t so bad. While it was clear that she knew there was something wrong with me, it was not as serious as it could have been. Mind reading was, after all, not a facet of vampire canon. I went along with her hypothesis.
“Just one exception,” I corrected. “Hypothetically.”
She fought a smile—my vague honesty pleased her. “All right, with one exception, then. How does that work? What are the limitations? How would… that someone… find someone else at exactly the right time? How would he know that she was in trouble?”
“Hypothetically?”
“Sure.” Her lips twitched, and her liquid brown eyes were eager.
“Well…” I hesitated. “If… that someone—”
“Let’s call him ‘Joe,’” she suggested.
I had to smile at her enthusiasm. Did she really think the truth would be a good thing? If my secrets were pleasant, why would I keep them from her?
“Joe, then,” I agreed. “If Joe had been paying attention, the timing wouldn’t have needed to be quite so exact.” I shook my head and repressed a shudder at the thought of how close I had been to being too late today. “Only you could get into trouble in a town this small. You would have devastated their crime rate statistics for a decade, you know.”
Her lips turned down at the corners and pouted out. “We were speaking of a hypothetical case.”
I laughed at her irritation.
Her lips, her skin… they looked so soft. I wanted to see if they were as velvety as they appeared. Impossible. My touch would be repellent to her.
“Yes, we were,” I said, returning to the conversation before I could depress myself too thoroughly. “Shall we call you ‘Jane’?”
She leaned across the table toward me, all humor and irritation gone from her expression.
“How did you know?” she asked, her voice low and intense.
Should I tell her the truth? And if so, what portion?
I wanted to tell her. I wanted to deserve the trust I could still see on her face.
As if she could hear my thoughts, she whispered, “You can trust me, you know.” She reached one hand forward as if to touch my hands where they rested on top of the empty table before me.
I pulled them back—hating the thought of her reaction to my frigid stone skin—and she dropped her hand.
I knew that I could trust her with protecting my secrets. She was entirely honorable, good to the core. But I couldn’t trust her not to be horrified by them. She should be horrified. The truth was horror.
“I don’t know if I have a choice anymore,” I murmured. I remembered that I’d once teased her by calling her exceptionally unobservant. Offended her, if I’d been judging her expressions correctly. Well, I could right that one injustice, at least. “I was wrong—you’re much more observant than I gave you credit for.” And though she might not realize it, I’d given her plenty of credit already.
“I thought you were always right,” she said, smiling as she teased me.
“I used to be.” I used to know what I was doing. I used to be always sure of my course. And now everything was chaos and tumult. Yet I wouldn’t trade it. Not if the chaos meant that I could be near Bella.
“I was wrong about you on one other thing as well,” I went on, setting the record straight on a second point. “You’re not a magnet for accidents—that’s not a broad enough classification. You are a magnet for trouble. If there is anything dangerous within a ten-mile radius, it will invariably find you.” Why her? What had she done to deserve any of this?
Bella’s face turned serious again. “And you put yourself into that category?”
Honesty was more important in regard to this question than any other. “Unequivocally.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly—not suspicious now, but oddly concerned. Her lips curved into that one specific smile that I had only seen on her face when she was confronted with someone else’s pain. She reached her hand across the table again, slowly and deliberately. I pulled my hands an inch away from her, but she ignored that, determined to touch me. I held my breath—not because of her scent now, but because of the sudden, overwhelming tension. Fear. My skin would disgust her. She would run away.
She brushed her fingertips lightly across the back of my hand. The heat of her gentle, willing touch was like nothing I’d ever felt before. It was almost pure pleasure. Would have been, except for my fear. I watched her face as she felt the cold stone of my skin, still unable to breathe.
Her smile of concern shifted into something wider, something warmer.
“Thank you,” she said, meeting my stare with an intense gaze of her own. “That’s twice now.”
Her soft fingers lingered against my skin as if they found it pleasant to be there.
I answered her as casually as I was able. “Let’s not try for three, agreed?”
She scowled a little at that, but nodded.
I pulled my hands out from under hers. As exquisite as her touch felt, I wasn’t going to wait for the magic of her tolerance to pass, to turn to revulsion. I hid my hands under the table.
I read her eyes; though her mind was silent, I could perceive both trust and wonder there. I realized in that moment that I wanted to answer her questions. Not because I owed it to her. Not because I wanted her to trust me.
I wanted her to know me.
“I followed you to Port Angeles,” I told her, the words spilling out too quickly for me to edit them. I knew the danger of the truth, the risk I was taking. At any moment, her unnatural calm could shatter into hysterics. Contrarily, knowing this only had me talking faster. “I’ve never tried to keep a specific person alive before and it’s much more troublesome than I would have believed. But that’s probably just because it’s you. Ordinary people seem to make it through the day without so many catastrophes.”
I watched her, waiting.
She smiled wider again. Her clear, dark eyes seemed deeper than ever.
I’d just admitted to stalking her, and she was smiling.
“Did you ever think that maybe my number was up that first time, with the van, and that you’ve been interfering with fate?” she asked.
“That wasn’t the first time,” I said, staring down at the dark maroon tablecloth, my shoulders bowed in shame. Barriers down, the truth still spilling free recklessly. “Your number was up the first time I met you.”
It was true, and it angered me. I had been positioned over her life like the blade of a guillotine—as though it was ordained by fate, just as she said. As if she had been marked for death by that cruel, unjust fate, and—since I’d proved an unwilling tool—it continued to try to execute her. I imagined the fate personified, a grisly, jealous hag, a vengeful harpy.
I wanted something, someone, to be responsible for this, so that I would have something concrete to fight against. Something, anything to destroy, so that Bella could be safe.
Bella was very quiet. Her breathing had accelerated.
I looked up at her, knowing I would finally see the fear I was waiting for. Had I not just admitted how close I’d been to killing her? Closer than the van that had come within slim inches of crushing the life from her body. And yet, her face was still calm, her eyes still tightened only with concern.
“You remember?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice level and grave. Her deep eyes were full of awareness.
She knew. She knew that I had wanted to murder her. Where were her screams?
“And yet here you sit,” I said, pointing out the inherent contradiction.
“Yes, here I sit… because of you.” Her expression altered, turned curious, as she unsubtly changed the subject. “Because somehow you knew how to find me today…?”
Hopelessly, I pushed one more time at the barrier that protected her thoughts, desperate to understand. It made no logical sense to me. How could she even care about the rest with that glaring truth on the table?
She waited, only curious. Her skin was pale, which was natural for her, but it still concerned me. Her dinner sat nearly untouched in front of her. If I continued to tell her too much, she was going to need a buffer when the shock set in at last.
I named my terms. “You eat, I’ll talk.”
She processed that for half a second, and then threw a bite into her mouth with a speed that belied her calm. She was more anxious for my answer than her eyes let on.
“It’s harder than it should be—keeping track of you,” I told her. “Usually I can find someone very easily, once I’ve heard their mind before.”
I watched her face carefully as I said this. Guessing right was one thing, having it confirmed was another.
She was motionless, her eyes blank. I felt my teeth clench together as I waited for her panic.
But she just blinked once, swallowed loudly, and then quickly scooped another bite into her mouth. Eager for me to continue.
“I was keeping tabs on Jessica,” I went on, watching each word as it sank in. “Not carefully—like I said, only you could find trouble in Port Angeles.” I couldn’t resist adding that. Was she aware that other human lives were not so plagued with near-death experiences, or did she think the things that happened to her were normal? “And at first I didn’t notice when you took off on your own. Then, when I realized that you weren’t with her anymore, I went looking for you at the bookstore I saw in her head. I could tell that you hadn’t gone in, and that you’d gone south… and I knew you would have to turn around soon. So I was just waiting for you, randomly searching through the thoughts of people on the street—to see if anyone had noticed you so I would know where you were. I had no reason to be worried… but I was strangely anxious.…” My breath came faster as I remembered that feeling of panic. Her scent blazed in my throat and I was glad. It was a pain that meant she was alive.
As long as I burned, she was safe.
“I started to drive in circles, still… listening.” I hoped the word made sense to her. This had to be confusing. “The sun was finally setting, and I was about to get out and follow you on foot. And then—”
As the memory took me—perfectly clear and as vivid as if I was in the moment again—I felt the same murderous fury wash through my body, locking it into ice.
I wanted him dead. He should be dead. My jaw clenched tight as I concentrated on holding myself here at the table. Bella still needed me. That was what mattered.
“Then what?” she whispered, her dark eyes huge.
“I heard what they were thinking,” I said through my teeth, unable to keep the words from coming out in a growl. “I saw your face in his mind.”
I still knew precisely where to find him. His black thoughts sucked at the night sky, pulling me toward them.
I covered my face, knowing my expression was that of a hunter, a killer. I fixed her image behind my closed eyes to control myself. The delicate framework of her bones, the thin sheath of her pale skin—like silk stretched over glass, incredibly soft and easy to shatter. She was too vulnerable for this world. She needed a protector. And through some twisted mismanagement of destiny, I was the closest thing available.
I tried to explain my violent reaction so that she would understand.