“I was trying to remember how to incapacitate an attacker,” she said, her voice more composed. “You know, self-defense. I was going to smash his nose into his brain.” Her composure did not last to the end of her explanation. Her tone twisted until it seethed with hate. This was no hyperbole, and her fury was not humorous now. I could see her frail figure—just silk over glass—overshadowed by the meaty, heavy-fisted human monsters who would have hurt her. The fury boiled in the back of my head.
“You were going to fight them?” I wanted to groan. Her instincts were deadly—to herself. “Didn’t you think about running?”
“I fall down a lot when I run,” she said sheepishly.
“What about screaming for help?”
“I was getting to that part.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “You were right,” I told her, a sour edge to my voice. “I’m definitely fighting fate trying to keep you alive.”
She sighed, and glanced out the window. Then she looked back at me.
“Will I see you tomorrow?” she demanded abruptly.
As long as were on our way down to hell—why not enjoy the journey?
“Yes—I have a paper due, too.” I smiled at her, and it felt good to do this. Clearly, hers were not the only instincts that were backwards. “I’ll save you a seat at lunch.”
Her heart fluttered; my dead heart felt warmer.
I stopped the car in front of her father’s house. She made no move to leave me.
“Do you promise to be there tomorrow?” she insisted.
“I promise.”
How could doing the wrong thing give me so much happiness? Surely there was something amiss in that.
She nodded to herself, satisfied, and started to remove my jacket.
“You can keep it,” I assured her quickly. I rather wanted to leave her with something of myself. A token, like the bottle cap that was in my pocket now. “You don’t have a jacket for tomorrow.”
She handed it back to me, smiling ruefully. “I don’t want to have to explain to Charlie,” she told me.
I would imagine not. I smiled at her. “Oh, right.”
She put her hand on the door handle, and then stopped. Unwilling to leave, just as I was unwilling for her to go.
To have her unprotected, even for a few moments…
Peter and Charlotte were well on their way by now, long past Seattle, no doubt. But there were always others.
“Bella?” I asked, amazed at the pleasure there was in simply speaking her name.
“Yes?”
“Will you promise me something?”
“Yes,” she agreed easily, and then her eyes tightened as if she’d thought of a reason to object.
“Don’t go into the woods alone,” I warned her, wondering if this request would trigger the objection in her eyes.
She blinked, startled. “Why?”
I glowered into the untrustworthy darkness. The lack of light was no problem for my eyes, but neither would it trouble another hunter.
“I’m not always the most dangerous thing out there,” I told her. “Let’s leave it at that.”
She shivered, but recovered quickly and was even smiling when she told me, “Whatever you say.”
Her breath touched my face, so sweet.
I could stay here all night like this, but she needed her sleep. The two desires seemed equally strong as they continually warred inside me: wanting her versus wanting her to be well.
I sighed at the impossibilities. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said, knowing that I would see her much sooner than that. She wouldn’t see me until tomorrow, though.
“Tomorrow, then,” she agreed as she opened her door.
Agony again, watching her leave.
I leaned after her, wanting to hold her here. “Bella?”
She turned, and then froze, surprised to find our faces so close together.
I, too, was overwhelmed by the proximity. The heat rolled off her in waves, caressing my face. I could all but feel the silk of her skin.
Her heartbeat stuttered, and her lips fell open.
“Sleep well,” I whispered, and leaned away before the urgency in my body—either the familiar thirst or the very new and strange hunger I suddenly felt—could make me do something that might hurt her.
She sat there motionless for a moment, her eyes wide and stunned. Dazzled, I guessed.
As was I.
She recovered—though her face was still a bit bemused—and half fell out of the car, tripping over her feet and having to catch the frame of the car to right herself.
I chuckled—hopefully it was too quiet for her to hear.
I watched her stumble her way up to the pool of light that surrounded the front door. Safe for the moment. And I would be back soon to make sure.
I could feel her eyes follow me as I drove down the dark street. Such a different sensation than I was accustomed to. Usually, I could simply watch myself through someone’s following eyes, were I of a mind to. This was strangely exciting—this intangible sensation of watching eyes. I knew it was just because they were her eyes.
A million thoughts chased each other through my head as I drove aimlessly into the night.
For a long time I circled through the streets, going nowhere, thinking of Bella and the incredible release of having the truth known. No longer did I have to dread that she would find out what I was. She knew. It didn’t matter to her. Even though this was obviously a bad thing for her, it was amazingly liberating for me.
More than that, I thought of Bella and requited love. She couldn’t love me the way I loved her—such an overpowering, all-consuming, crushing love would probably break her fragile body. But she felt strongly enough. Strongly enough to subdue the instinctive fear. Strongly enough to want to be with me. And being with her was the greatest happiness I had ever known.
For a while—as I was all alone and hurting no one else for a change—I allowed myself to feel that happiness without dwelling on the tragedy. Just to be thrilled that she cared for me. Just to exult in the triumph of winning her affection. Just to imagine sitting close to her tomorrow, hearing her voice and earning her smiles.
I replayed that smile in my head, seeing her full lips pull up at the corners, the hint of a dimple that touched her pointed chin, the way her eyes warmed and melted. Her fingers had felt so warm and soft on my hand tonight. I imagined how it would feel to touch the delicate skin that stretched over her cheekbones—silky, warm… so fragile. Silk over glass… frighteningly breakable.
I didn’t see where my thoughts were leading until it was too late. As I dwelt on that devastating vulnerability, other images of her face intruded on my fantasies.
Lost in the shadows, pale with fear—yet her jaw tight and determined, her eyes full of concentration, her slim body braced to strike at the hulking forms that gathered around her, nightmares in the gloom.
“Ah,” I groaned as the simmering hate that I’d all but forgotten in the joy of loving her burst again into an inferno of rage.
I was alone. Bella was, I trusted, safe inside her home; for a moment I was fiercely glad that Charlie Swan—head of the local law enforcement, trained and armed—was her father. That ought to mean something, provide some shelter for her.
She was safe. It would not take me so very long to destroy the mortal who would have harmed her.
No. She deserved better. I could not allow her to care for a murderer.
But… what about the others?
Bella was safe, yes. Angela and Jessica were also, surely, safe in their beds.
Yet a predator was loose on the streets of Port Angeles. A human monster—did that make him the humans’ problem? We did not often involve ourselves with human problems, aside from Carlisle and his constant work to heal and save. For the rest of us, our weakness for human blood was a serious impediment to becoming closely entangled with them. And of course there were our distant wardens, the de facto vampire police force, the Volturi. We Cullens lived too differently. Drawing their attention with any poorly considered superhero-esque performances would be extremely dangerous to our family.
This was definitely a mortal concern, not of our world. To commit the murder I ached to commit was wrong. I knew that. But leaving him free to attack again could not be the right thing, either.
The blond hostess from the restaurant. The waitress I’d never really looked at. Both had irritated me in a trivial way, but that did not mean they deserved to be in danger.
I turned the car north, accelerating now that I had a purpose. Whenever I had a dilemma that was beyond me—something tangible like this—I knew where to go for help.
Alice was sitting on the porch, waiting for me. I pulled to a stop in front of the house rather than going around to the garage.
“Carlisle’s in his study,” she told me before I could ask.
“Thank you,” I said, tousling her hair as I passed.
Thankyou for returning my call, she thought sarcastically.
“Oh.” I paused by the door, pulling out my phone and flipping it open. “Sorry. I didn’t even check to see who it was. I was… busy.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, too. By the time I saw what was going to happen, you were on your way.”
“It was close,” I murmured.
Sorry, she repeated, ashamed of herself.
It was easy to be generous, knowing that Bella was fine. “Don’t be. I know you can’t catch everything. No one expects you to be omniscient, Alice.”
“Thanks.”
“I almost asked you out to dinner tonight—did you catch that before I changed my mind?”
She grinned. “No, I missed that one, too. Wish I’d known. I would have come.”
“What were you concentrating on that you missed so much?”
Jasper’s thinking about our anniversary.She laughed. He’s trying not to make a decision on my gift, but I think I have a pretty good idea.…
“You’re shameless.”
“Yep.”
She pursed her lips and stared up at me, a hint of accusation in her expression. I paid better attention afterward. Are you going to tell them that she knows?
I sighed. “Yes. Later.”
I won’t say anything. Do me a favor and tell Rosalie when I’m not around, okay?
I flinched. “Sure.”
Bella took it pretty well.
“Too well.”
Alice grinned at me. Don’t underestimate Bella.
I tried to block the image I didn’t want to see—Bella and Alice, best of friends.
Impatient now, I sighed heavily. I wanted to be through with the next part of the evening; I wanted it over with. But I was a little worried to leave Forks.
“Alice…,” I began. She saw what I was planning to ask.
She’ll be fine tonight. I’m keeping a better watch now. She sort of needs twenty-four-hour supervision, doesn’t she?
“At least.”
“Anyway, you’ll be with her soon enough.”
I took a deep breath. The words were beautiful to me.
“Go on—get this done so you can be where you want to be,” she told me.
I nodded and hurried up to Carlisle’s room.
He was waiting for me, his eyes on the door rather than the thick book on his desk.
“I heard Alice tell you where to find me,” he said, and smiled.
It was a relief to be with him, to see the empathy and deep intelligence in his eyes. Carlisle would know what to do.
“I need help.”
“Anything, Edward,” he promised.
“Did Alice tell you what happened to Bella tonight?”
Almost happened, he amended.
“Yes, almost. I’ve a dilemma, Carlisle. You see, I want… very much… to kill him.” The words started to flow, fast and passionate. “So much. But I know that would be wrong, because it would be vengeance, not justice. All anger, no impartiality. Still, it can’t be right to leave a serial rapist and murderer wandering Port Angeles! I don’t know the humans there, but I can’t let someone else take Bella’s place as his victim. Those other women—it’s not right—”
His wide, unexpected smile stopped the rush of my words cold.
She’s very good for you, isn’t she? So much compassion, so much control. I’m impressed.
“I’m not looking for compliments, Carlisle.”
“Of course not. But I can’t help my thoughts, can I?” He smiled again. I’ll take care of it. You can rest easy. No one else will be harmed in Bella’s place.
I saw the plan in his head. It wasn’t exactly what I wanted—it did not satisfy my craving for brutality—but I could see that it was the right thing.
“I’ll show you where to find him,” I said.
“Let’s go.”
He grabbed his black bag on the way. I would have preferred a more aggressive form of sedation—like a cracked skull—but I would let Carlisle do this his way.
We took my car. Alice was still on the steps. She grinned and waved as we drove away. I saw that she had looked ahead for me. We would have no difficulties.
The trip was very short on the dark, empty road. I left off my headlights to keep from attracting attention. It made me smile to think how Bella would have reacted to this pace. I’d already been driving slower than usual—to prolong my time with her—when she’d objected.
Carlisle was thinking of Bella, too.
I didn’t foresee that she would be so good for him. That’s unexpected. Perhaps this was somehow meant to be. Perhaps it serves a higher purpose. Only…
He pictured Bella with snow-cold skin and bloodred eyes, and then flinched away from the image.
Yes. Indeed. Only. Because how could there be any good in destroying something so pure and lovely?
I glowered into the night, all the joy of the evening destroyed.
Edward deserves happiness. He’sowed it. The fierceness of Carlisle’s thoughts surprised me. There must be a way.
I wished I could believe either of his hopes. But there was no higher purpose to what was happening to Bella. Just a vicious harpy, an ugly, bitter fate who could not bear for her to have the life she deserved.
I did not linger in Port Angeles. I took Carlisle to the dive bar where the twisted thing named Lanny was drowning his disappointment with his friends—two of whom had already passed out. Carlisle could see how hard it was for me to be so close—to hear the fiend’s thoughts and see his memories, memories of Bella mixed in with those of less fortunate girls whom no one could save now.
My breathing sped. My hands clenched the steering wheel.
Go, Edward, he told me gently. I’ll make the rest of them safe. You go back to Bella.
It was exactly the right thing to say. Her name was the only distraction that meant anything to me.
I left Carlisle in the car, and ran back to Forks in a straight line through the sleeping forest. It took less time than the first journey in the speeding car. It was just minutes later that I scaled the side of her house and slid her window out of my way.
I sighed silently with relief. Everything was just as it should be. Bella was safe in her bed, dreaming, her wet hair tangled across the pillow.
But unlike most nights, she was curled into a small ball with the covers stretched taut around her shoulders. Cold, I guessed. Before I could settle into my usual seat, she shivered in her sleep, and her lips trembled.
I thought for a brief moment, and then eased out into the hallway, exploring another part of her house for the first time.
Charlie’s snores were loud and even. I could almost catch the edge of his dream. Something with the rush of water and patient expectation… fishing, maybe?
There, at the top of the stairs, was a promising-looking cupboard. I opened it hopefully and found what I was looking for. I selected the thickest blanket from the tiny linen closet and took it back into her room. I would return it before she woke, and no one would be the wiser.
Holding my breath, I cautiously spread the blanket over her. She didn’t react to the added weight. I returned to the rocking chair.
While I waited anxiously for her to warm up, I thought of Carlisle, wondering where he was now. I knew his plan would go smoothly—Alice had seen that.
Thinking of my father made me sigh—Carlisle gave me too much credit. I wished I were the person he thought me to be. That person, the one who deserved happiness, might hope to be worthy of this sleeping girl. How different things would be if I could be that Edward.
Or, if I could not be what I should, at least there should be some balance in the universe to cancel out my darkness. Should there not be an equal and opposite good? I’d envisioned the hag-faced fate as some explanation for the terrifying and improbable nightmares that kept coming for Bella—first myself, then the van, and then the noxious beast tonight. But if that fate had so much power, shouldn’t there be a force in place to thwart it?
Someone like Bella ought to have a protector, a guardian angel. She deserved that. And yet, clearly, she’d been left defenseless. I would love to believe an angel or anything else was watching over her, anything that would give her a measure of protection, but when I tried to imagine that champion, it was obvious such a thing was impossible. What guardian angel would have allowed Bella to come here? To cross my path, formed, as she was, in such a fashion that there was no way I could possibly overlook her? A ridiculously potent scent to demand my attention, a silent mind to enflame my curiosity, a quiet beauty to hold my eyes, a selfless soul to earn my awe. Factor in the total lack of self-preservation so she was not repelled by me, and then of course add the wide streak of appallingly bad luck that put her always in the wrong place at the wrong time.
There could be no stronger evidence that guardian angels were a fantasy. No one needed or deserved one more than Bella. Yet any angel that could have allowed us to meet must be so irresponsible, so reckless, so… harebrained, that it could not possibly be on the side of good. I’d rather the loathsome harpy were real than any celestial being so ineffectual. At least I could fight against the ugly fate.
And I would fight, I would keep fighting. Whatever force it was that wanted to hurt Bella would have to go through me. No, she had no guardian angel. But I would do my best to make up for the lack.
A guardian vampire—there was a stretch.
After about a half hour, Bella relaxed out of the tight ball. Her breathing got deeper and she started to murmur. I smiled, satisfied. It was a small thing, but at least she was sleeping more comfortably tonight because I was here.
“Edward,” she sighed, and she smiled, too.
I shoved tragedy aside for the moment and let myself be happy again.
11. INTERROGATIONS
CNN BROKE THE STORY FIRST.
I was glad it hit the news before I had to leave for school. I was anxious to hear how the humans would phrase the account, and what amount of attention it would garner. Luckily, it was a heavy news day. There was an earthquake in South America and a political kidnapping in the Middle East. So it ended up only earning a few seconds, a few sentences, and one grainy picture.
“Orlando Calderas Wallace, suspected murderer wanted in the states of Texas and Oklahoma, was apprehended last night in Portland, Oregon, thanks to an anonymous tip. Wallace was found unconscious in an alley early this morning, just a few yards from a police station. Officials are unable to tell us at this time whether he will be extradited to Houston or Oklahoma City to stand trial.”
The picture was unclear, a mug shot, and he’d had a thick beard at the time of the photograph. Even if Bella saw it, she would probably not recognize him. I hoped she wouldn’t; it would only frighten her needlessly.
“The coverage here in town will be light. It’s too far away to be considered of local interest,” Alice told me. “It was a good call to have Carlisle take him out of state.”
I nodded. Bella didn’t watch much TV regardless, and I’d never seen her father watching anything besides sports channels.
I’d done what I could. This repugnant creature no longer hunted, and I was not a murderer. Not recently, anyway. I’d been right to trust Carlisle, as much as I still wished the wretch had not gotten off quite so easily. I caught myself hoping he would be extradited to Texas, where the death penalty was so popular.
No. That didn’t matter. I would put this behind me and concentrate on what was most important.
I’d left Bella’s room less than an hour ago. I was already aching to see her again.
“Alice, do you mind—”
She cut me off. “Rosalie will drive. She’ll act pissed, but you know she’ll enjoy the excuse to show off her car.” Alice trilled a laugh.
I grinned at her. “See you at school.”
Alice sighed, and my grin became a glare.
I know, I know, she thought. Not yet. I’ll wait until you’re ready for Bella to know me. You should know, though, this isn’t just me being selfish. Bella’s going to like me, too.
I didn’t answer her as I hurried out the door. That was a different way of viewing the situation. Would Bella want to know Alice? To have a vampire for a girlfriend?
Knowing Bella, that idea probably wouldn’t bother her in the slightest.
I frowned to myself. What Bella wanted and what was best for Bella were two very separate things.
I started to feel uneasy as I parked my car in Bella’s driveway. The human adage said that things looked different in the morning—that things changed when you slept on them. Would I look different to Bella in the weak light of a foggy day? More or less sinister than I had in the blackness of night? Had the truth sunk in while she slept? Would she finally be afraid?
Her dreams had been peaceful, though, last night. When she’d spoken my name, time and time again, she’d smiled. More than once she’d murmured a plea for me to stay. Would that mean nothing today?
I waited nervously, listening to the sounds of her inside the house—the fast, stumbling footsteps on the stairs, the sharp rip of a foil wrapper, the contents of the refrigerator crashing against each other when the door slammed. It sounded as though she was in a hurry. Anxious to get to school? The thought made me smile, hopeful again.
I glanced at the clock. I supposed that—taking into account the velocity her decrepit truck must limit her to—she was running a little late.
Bella rushed out of the house, her book bag sliding off her shoulder, her hair coiled into a messy twist that was already coming apart on the nape of her neck. The thick green sweater she wore was not enough to keep her thin shoulders from hunching against the cold fog.
The long sweater was too big for her, unflattering. It masked her slender figure, turning all her delicate curves and soft lines into a shapeless jumble. I appreciated this almost as much as I wished that she had worn something more like the soft blue blouse she had on last night. The fabric had clung to her skin in such an appealing way, cut low enough to reveal the mesmerizing shape of her collarbones, curling out from the hollow of her throat. The blue had flowed like water along the subtle shape of her body.
It was better—essential—that I kept my thoughts far, far away from that shape, so I was grateful for the unbecoming sweater. I couldn’t afford to make mistakes, and it would be a monumental mistake to dwell on the strange hungers that thoughts of her lips… her skin… her body… were shaking loose inside me. Hungers that had evaded me for a hundred years. But I could not allow myself to think of touching her, because that was impossible.
I would break her.
Bella turned away from the door in such a hurry that she nearly ran right by my car without noticing it.
Then she skidded to a stop, her knees locking like a startled colt’s. Her bag slid farther down her arm, and her eyes flew wide as they focused on the car.
I got out, taking no care to move at human speed, and opened the passenger door for her. I would not try to deceive her anymore—when we were alone, at least, I would be myself.
She looked up at me, startled again as I seemingly materialized out of the fog. And then the surprise in her eyes changed to something else, and I was no longer afraid—or hopeful—that her feelings for me had changed in the course of the night. Warmth, wonder, fascination, all swam in the translucent depths of her eyes.
“Do you want to ride with me today?” I asked. Unlike dinner last night, I would let her choose. From now on, it must always be her choice.
“Yes, thank you,” she murmured, climbing into my car without hesitation.
Would it ever cease to thrill me that I was the one she was saying yes to?
I flashed around the car, eager to join her. She showed no sign of being shocked by my sudden reappearance.
The happiness I felt when she sat beside me this way had no precedent. As much as I enjoyed the love and companionship of my family, despite the various entertainments and distractions my world had to offer, I had never been happy like this. Even knowing that it was wrong, that this couldn’t possibly end well, could not keep the smile from my face for long when we were together.
My jacket was folded over the headrest of her seat. I saw her eyeing it.
“I brought the jacket for you,” I told her. This was my excuse, had I needed to provide one, for showing up uninvited this morning. It was cold. She had no jacket. Surely this was an acceptable form of chivalry. “I didn’t want you to get sick or something.”
“I’m not quite that delicate,” she said, staring at my chest rather than my face, as if she were hesitant to meet my eyes. But she put the coat on before I could resort to coaxing or begging.
“Aren’t you?” I muttered to myself.
She looked out at the road as I accelerated toward the school. I could only stand the silence for a few seconds. I had to know what her thoughts were this morning. So much had changed between us since the last time the sun was up.
“What, no twenty questions today?” I asked, keeping it light again.
She smiled, seeming glad that I’d broached the subject. “Do my questions bother you?”
“Not as much as your reactions do,” I told her honestly, smiling in response to hers.
Her mouth turned down. “Do I react badly?”
“No, that’s the problem. You take everything so coolly—it’s unnatural.” Not one scream so far. How could that be? “It makes me wonder what you’re really thinking.” Of course, everything she did or didn’t do made me wonder that.
“I always tell you what I’m really thinking.”
“You edit.”
Her teeth pressed into her lip again. She didn’t seem to notice when she did this—it was an unconscious response to tension. “Not very much.”
Just those words were enough to have my curiosity raging. What did she purposely keep from me?
“Enough to drive me insane,” I said.
She hesitated, and then whispered, “You don’t want to hear it.”
I had to think for a moment, run through our entire conversation last night, word for word, before I made the connection. Perhaps it took so much concentration because I couldn’t imagine anything that I wouldn’t want her to share with me. And then—because the tone of her voice was the same as last night; there was suddenly pain there again—I remembered. Once, I had asked her not to speak her thoughts. Never say that, I’d all but snarled at her. I had made her cry.…
Was this what she kept from me? The depth of her feelings about me? That my being a monster didn’t matter to her, and that she thought it was too late for her to change her mind?
I was unable to speak, because the joy and pain were too strong for words, the conflict between them too wild to allow for a coherent response. It was silent in the car except for the steady rhythms of her heart and lungs.
“Where’s the rest of your family?” she asked suddenly.
I took a deep breath—registering the scent in the car with true pain for the first time; I was getting used to this, I realized with satisfaction—and forced myself to be casual again.
“They took Rosalie’s car.” I parked in the open spot next to the car in question. I hid my smile as I watched her eyes grow round. “Ostentatious, isn’t it?”
“Um, wow. If she has that, why does she ride with you?”
Rosalie would have enjoyed Bella’s reaction… if she were being objective about Bella, which probably wouldn’t happen.
“Like I said, it’s ostentatious. We try to blend in.”
Of course, Bella was totally oblivious to the inherent contradiction of my own car. It was no accident we were most often seen in the Volvo—a car celebrated above all for its safety. Safety, the one thing vampires would never need from a vehicle. Few would recognize the less common racing edition, not to mention the aftermarket work we’d done.
“You don’t succeed,” she told me, and then she laughed a carefree laugh.
The blithe, wholly untroubled sound of her laughter warmed my hollow chest.
“So why did Rosalie drive today if it’s more conspicuous?” she wondered.
“Hadn’t you noticed? I’m breaking all the rules now.”
My answer should have been mildly frightening—so of course, Bella smiled at it.
Once out of the car, I walked as close to her as I dared, watching carefully for any sign that my proximity upset her. Twice her hand twitched toward me and she snatched it back. It looked like she wanted to touch me.… My breath sped.
“Why do you have cars like that at all? If you’re looking for privacy?” she asked as we walked.
“An indulgence,” I admitted. “We all like to drive fast.”
“Figures,” she mumbled, her tone sour.
She didn’t look up to see my answering grin.
Nuh-uh! I don’tbelieve this! How the hell did Bella pull this off?
Jessica’s mental boggling interrupted my thoughts. She was waiting for Bella, taking refuge from the rain under the edge of the cafeteria’s roof, with Bella’s winter jacket over her arm. Her eyes were wide with disbelief.
Bella noticed her, too, in the next moment. A faint pink touched her cheek when Bella registered Jessica’s expression.
“Hey, Jessica. Thanks for remembering,” Bella greeted her. Jessica handed her the jacket wordlessly.
I would be polite to Bella’s friends, whether or not they were good friends. “Good morning, Jessica.”
Whoa…