Midnight Sun / Солнце полуночи / Полуночное солнце (by Stephenie Meyer, 2020) - аудиокнига на английском

This book is dedicated to all the readers who have been such a happy part of my life for the last fifteen years. When we first met, many of you were young teenagers with bright, beautiful eyes full of dreams for the future. I hope that in the years that have passed, you’ve all found your dreams and that the reality of them was even better than you’d hoped. 1. FIRST SIGHT THIS WAS THE TIME OF DAY WHEN I MOST WISHED I WERE ABLE TO SLEEP. High school. Or was purgatory the right word? If there were any way to atone for my sins, this ought to count toward the tally in some measure. The tedium was not something I grew used to; every day seemed more impossibly monotonous than the last. Perhaps this could even be considered my form of sleep—if sleep was defined as the inert state between active periods. I stared at the cracks running through the plaster in the far corner of the cafeteria, imagining patterns into them that were not there. It was one way to tune out the voices that babbled like the gush of a river inside my head. Several hundred of these voices I ignored out of boredom. When it came to the human mind, I’d heard it all before and then some. Today, all thoughts were consumed with the trivial drama of a new addition to the small student body. It took so little to work them up. I’d seen the new face repeated in thought after thought from every angle. Just an ordinary human girl. The excitement over her arrival was tiresomely predictable—it was the same reaction as one would get from flashing a shiny object at a group of toddlers. Half the sheep-like males were already imagining themselves infatuated with her, just because she was something new to look at. I tried harder to tune them out. Only four voices did I block out of courtesy rather than distaste: my family, my two brothers and two sisters, who were so used to the lack of privacy in my presence that they rarely worried about it. I gave them what I could. I tried not to listen if I could help it. Try as I may, still… I knew. Rosalie was thinking, as usual, about herself—her mind was a stagnant pool with few surprises. She’d caught sight of her profile in the reflection off someone’s glasses, and she was mulling over her own perfection. No one else’s hair was closer to true gold, no one else’s shape was quite so perfectly an hourglass, no one else’s face was such a flawless, symmetrical oval. She didn’t compare herself to the humans here; that juxtaposition would have been laughable, absurd. She thought of others like us, none of them her equal. Emmett’s usually carefree expression was crumpled with frustration. Even now, he ran one enormous hand through his ebony curls, twisting the hair into his fist. Still fuming over the wrestling match he’d lost to Jasper during the night. It would take all his limited patience to make it to the end of the school day to orchestrate a rematch. Hearing Emmett’s thoughts never felt intrusive, because he never thought one thing that he would not say aloud or put into action. Perhaps I only felt guilty reading the others’ minds because I knew there were things inside that they wouldn’t want me to know. If Rosalie’s mind was a stagnant pool, then Emmett’s was a lake with no shadows, glass clear. And Jasper was… suffering. I suppressed a sigh. Edward. Alice called my name in her head and had my attention at once. It was just the same as having my name called aloud. I was glad my given name had fallen out of style in the last few decades—it had been annoying in the past; anytime anyone thought of any Edward, my head would turn automatically. My head didn’t turn now. Alice and I were good at these private conversations. It was rare that anyone caught us. I kept my eyes on the lines in the plaster. How is he holding up? she asked me. I frowned, just a small change in the set of my mouth. Nothing that would tip the others off. I could easily be frowning out of boredom. Jasper had been still for too long. He wasn’t performing human ticks the way we all must, constantly in motion so as not to stand out, like Emmett pulling at his hair, Rosalie crossing her legs first one way then the next, Alice tapping her toes against the linoleum, or me, moving my head to stare at different patterns in the wall. Jasper looked paralyzed, his lean form ramrod straight, even his honey hair seeming not to react to the air wafting from the vents. Alice’s mental tone was alarmed now, and I saw in her mind that she was watching Jasper in her peripheral vision. Is there any danger? She searched ahead into the immediate future, skimming through visions of monotony for the source behind my frown. Even as she did so, she remembered to tuck one tiny fist under her sharp chin and blink regularly. She brushed a tuft of her short, jagged black hair out of her eyes. I turned my head slowly to the left, as if looking at the bricks of the wall, sighed, and then turned to the right, back to the cracks in the ceiling. The others would assume I was playing human. Only Alice knew I was shaking my head. She relaxed. Let me know if it gets too bad. I moved only my eyes, up to the ceiling above, and back down. Thanks for doing this. I was glad I couldn’t answer her aloud. What would I say? My pleasure? It was hardly that. I didn’t enjoy tuning in to Jasper’s struggles. Was it really necessary to experiment this way? Wouldn’t the safer path be to just admit that he might never be able to handle his thirst as well as the rest of us could, and not push his limits? Why flirt with disaster? It had been two weeks since our last hunting trip. That was not an immensely difficult time span for the rest of us. A little uncomfortable occasionally—if a human walked too close, if the wind blew the wrong way. But humans rarely walked too close. Their instincts told them what their conscious minds would never understand: We were a danger that must be avoided. Jasper was very dangerous right now. It did not happen often, but every now and then I would be struck by the obliviousness of the humans around us. We were all so accustomed to it, we always expected it, but occasionally it seemed more glaring than usual. None of them noticed us here, lounging at the battered cafeteria table, though an ambush of tigers sprawled in our places would be less lethal than we were. All they saw were five odd-looking people, close enough to human to pass. It was hard to imagine surviving with senses so incredibly dull. At that moment, a small girl paused at the end of the closest table to ours, stopping to talk to a friend. She tossed her short, sandy hair, combing her fingers through it. The heaters blew her scent in our direction. I was used to the way that scent made me feel—the dry ache in my throat, the hollow yearn in my stomach, the automatic tightening of my muscles, the excess flow of venom in my mouth. This was all quite normal, usually easy to ignore. It was harder just now, with the reactions stronger, doubled, as I monitored Jasper. Jasper was letting his imagination get away from him. He was picturing it—picturing himself getting up from his seat next to Alice and going to stand beside the little girl. Thinking of leaning down and in, as if he were going to whisper in her ear, and letting his lips touch the arch of her throat. Imagining how the hot flow of her pulse beneath the weak barrier of her skin would feel under his mouth… I kicked his chair. He met my gaze, his black eyes resentful for a second, and then looked down. I could hear shame and rebellion war in his head. “Sorry,” Jasper muttered. I shrugged. “You weren’t going to do anything,” Alice murmured to him, soothing his mortification. “I could see that.” I fought back the frown that would give her lie away. We had to stick together, Alice and I. It wasn’t easy, being the freaks among those who were already freaks. We protected each other’s secrets. “It helps a little if you think of them as people,” Alice suggested, her high, musical voice racing too fast for human ears to understand, if any had been close enough to hear. “Her name is Whitney. She has a baby sister she adores. Her mother invited Esme to that garden party, do you remember?” “I know who she is,” Jasper said curtly. He turned away to stare out one of the small windows that were spaced just under the eaves around the long room. His tone ended the conversation. He would have to hunt tonight. It was ridiculous to take risks like this, trying to test his strength, to build his endurance. Jasper should just accept his limitations and work within them. Alice sighed silently and stood, taking her tray of food—her prop, as it were—with her and leaving him alone. She knew when he’d had enough of her encouragement. Though Rosalie and Emmett were more flagrant about their relationship, it was Alice and Jasper who knew each other’s every need as well as their own. As if they could read minds, too—but only each other’s. Edward. Reflex reaction. I turned to the sound of my name being called, though it wasn’t being called, just thought. My eyes locked for half a second with a pair of large, chocolate-brown human eyes set in a pale, heart-shaped face. I knew the face, though I’d never seen it myself before this moment. It had been foremost in every human head today. The new student, Isabella Swan. Daughter of the town’s chief of police, brought to live here by some new custody situation. Bella. She’d corrected everyone who’d used her full name. I looked away, bored. It took me a second to realize that she had not been the one to think my name. Of course she’s already crushing on the Cullens, I heard the first thought continue. Now I recognized the “voice.” Jessica Stanley—it had been a while since she’d bothered me with her internal chatter. What a relief it had been when she’d gotten over her misplaced fixation. It used to be nearly impossible to escape her constant, ridiculous daydreams. I’d wished, at the time, that I could explain to her exactly what would have happened if my lips, and the teeth behind them, had gotten anywhere near her. That would have silenced those annoying fantasies. The thought of her reaction almost made me smile. Fat lot of good it will do her, Jessica went on. She’s really not even pretty. I don’t know why Eric is staring so much… or Mike. She flinched mentally on the latter name. Her new obsession, the generically popular Mike Newton, was completely oblivious to her. Apparently, he was not as oblivious to the new girl. Another child reaching for the shiny object. This put a mean edge to Jessica’s thoughts, though she was outwardly cordial to the newcomer as she explained to her the commonly held knowledge about my family. The new student must have asked about us. Everyone’s looking at me today, too, Jessica thought smugly. Isn’t it lucky Bella has two classes with me? I’ll bet Mike will want to ask me what she’s— I tried to block the inane chatter out of my head before the petty and the trivial could drive me mad. “Jessica Stanley is giving the new Swan girl all the dirty laundry on the Cullen clan,” I murmured to Emmett as a distraction. He chuckled under his breath. I hope she’s making it good, he thought. “Rather unimaginative, actually. Just the barest hint of scandal. Not an ounce of horror. I’m a little disappointed.” And the new girl? Is she disappointed in the gossip as well? I listened to hear what this new girl, Bella, thought of Jessica’s story. What did she see when she looked at the strange, chalky-skinned family that was universally avoided? It was my responsibility to know her reaction. I acted as a lookout, for lack of a better word, for my family. To protect us. If anyone ever grew suspicious, I could give us early warning and an easy retreat. It happened occasionally—some human with an active imagination would see in us the characters of a book or a movie. Usually they got it wrong, but it was better to move on somewhere new than to risk scrutiny. Rarely, extremely rarely, someone would guess right. We didn’t give them a chance to test their hypothesis. We simply disappeared, to become no more than a frightening memory. That hadn’t happened for decades. I heard nothing, though I listened close beside where Jessica’s frivolous internal monologue continued to gush. It was as if there were no one sitting beside her. How peculiar. Had the girl moved? That didn’t seem likely, as Jessica was still babbling at her. I looked up, feeling off-balance. Checking on my extra “hearing”—it wasn’t something I ever had to do. Again, my gaze locked onto those wide brown eyes. She was sitting right where she had been before and looking at us—a natural thing to be doing, I supposed, as Jessica was still regaling her with the local gossip about the Cullens. Thinking about us, too, would be natural. But I couldn’t hear a whisper. Warm, inviting red stained her cheeks as she looked down, away from the embarrassing gaffe of getting caught staring at a stranger. It was good that Jasper was still gazing out the window. I didn’t like to imagine what that easy pooling of blood would do to his control. The emotions had been as clear on her face as if they were spelled out in words: surprise, as she unknowingly absorbed the signs of the subtle differences between her kind and mine; curiosity, as she listened to Jessica’s tale; and something more… Fascination? It wouldn’t be the first time. We were beautiful to them, our intended prey. Then, finally, the embarrassment. And yet, though her thoughts had been so clear in her odd eyes—odd because of the depth to them—I could hear only silence from the place she was sitting. Just… silence. I felt a moment of unease. This was nothing I’d ever encountered. Was there something wrong with me? I felt exactly the same as I always did. Worried, I listened harder. All the voices I’d been blocking were suddenly shouting in my head. … wonder what music she likes… maybe I could mention my new CD…, Mike Newton was thinking, two tables away—focused on Bella Swan. Look at him staring at her. Isn’t it enough that he has half the girls in school waiting for him to… Eric Yorkie’s thoughts were caustic, and also revolving around the girl. … so disgusting. You’d think she was famous or something.… Even Edward Cullen staring.… Lauren Mallory was so jealous that her face, by all rights, should be dark jade in color. And Jessica, flaunting her new best friend. What a joke… Vitriol continued to spew from the girl’s thoughts. … I bet everyone has asked her that. But I’d like to talk to her. What’s something more original? Ashley Dowling mused. … maybe she’ll be in my Spanish…, June Richardson hoped. … tons left to do tonight! Trig, and the English test. I hope my mom… Angela Weber, a quiet girl whose thoughts were unusually kind, was the only one at the table who wasn’t obsessed with this Bella. I could hear them all, hear every insignificant thing they were thinking as it passed through their minds. But nothing at all from the new student with the deceptively communicative eyes. And of course, I could hear what the girl said when she spoke to Jessica. I didn’t have to read minds to be able to hear her low, clear voice on the far side of the long room. “Which one is the boy with the reddish-brown hair?” I heard her ask, sneaking another look at me from the corner of her eye, only to glance quickly away when she saw that I was still staring. If I’d had time to hope that hearing the sound of her voice would help me pinpoint the tone of her thoughts, I was instantly disappointed. Usually, people’s thoughts came to them in a similar pitch to their physical voices. But this quiet, shy voice was unfamiliar, not one of the hundreds of thoughts bouncing around the room, I was sure of that. Entirely new. Oh, good luck, idiot! Jessica thought before answering the girl’s question. “That’s Edward. He’s gorgeous, of course, but don’t waste your time. He doesn’t date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him.” She snorted quietly. I turned my head away to hide my smile. Jessica and her classmates had no idea how lucky they were that none of them particularly appealed to me. Beneath the transient humor, I felt a strange impulse, one I did not clearly understand. It had something to do with the vicious edge to Jessica’s thoughts that the new girl was unaware of.… I felt the strangest urge to step in between them, to shield Bella Swan from the darker workings of Jessica’s mind. What an odd thing to feel. Trying to ferret out the motivations behind the impulse, I examined the new girl one more time, through Jessica’s eyes now. My staring had attracted too much attention. Perhaps it was just some long-buried protective instinct—the strong for the weak. Somehow, this girl looked more fragile than her new classmates. Her skin was so translucent it was hard to believe it offered her much defense from the outside world. I could see the rhythmic pulse of blood through her veins under the clear, pale membrane.… But I should not concentrate on that. I was good at this life I’d chosen, but I was just as thirsty as Jasper and there was no point in inviting temptation. There was a faint crease between her eyebrows that she seemed unaware of. It was unbelievably frustrating! I could easily see that it was a strain for her to sit there, to make conversation with strangers, to be the center of attention. I could sense her shyness from the way she held her frail-looking shoulders, slightly hunched, as if she was expecting a rebuff at any moment. And yet I could only see, could only sense, could only imagine. There was nothing but silence from the very unexceptional human girl. I could hear nothing. Why? “Shall we?” Rosalie murmured, interrupting my focus. I turned my mind away from the girl with a sense of relief. I didn’t want to continue to fail at this—failure was a rare thing for me, and even more irritating than it was uncommon. I didn’t want to develop any interest in her hidden thoughts simply because they were hidden. No doubt when I did decipher them—and I would find a way to do so—they would be just as petty and trivial as any human’s. Not worth the effort I would expend to reach them. “So, is the new one afraid of us yet?” Emmett asked, still waiting for my response to his earlier question. I shrugged. He wasn’t interested enough to press for more information. We got up from the table and walked out of the cafeteria. Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper were pretending to be seniors; they left for their classes. I was playing a younger role than they. I headed off for my junior-level Biology lesson, preparing my mind for the tedium. It was doubtful Mr. Banner, a man of no more than average intellect, would manage to pull out anything in his lecture that would surprise someone holding two medical degrees. In the classroom, I settled into my chair and let my books—props, again; they held nothing I didn’t already know—spill across the table. I was the only student who had a table to himself. The humans weren’t smart enough to know that they feared me, but their innate survival instincts were enough to keep them away. The room slowly filled as they trickled in from lunch. I leaned back in my chair and waited for the time to pass. Again, I wished I were able to sleep. Because I’d been thinking about the new girl, when Angela Weber escorted her through the door, her name intruded on my attention. Bella seems just as shy as me. I’ll bet today is really hard for her. I wish I could say something… but it would probably just sound stupid. Yes! Mike Newton thought, turning in his seat to watch the girls enter. Still, from the place where Bella Swan stood, nothing. The empty space where her thoughts should be vexed and unnerved me. What if it all went away? What if this was just the first symptom of some kind of mental decline? I’d often wished that I could escape the cacophony. That I could be normal—as far as that was possible for me. But now I felt panicked at the thought. Who would I be without what I could do? I’d never heard of such a thing. I would see if Carlisle had. The girl walked down the aisle beside me, headed to the teacher’s desk. Poor girl; the seat next to me was the only one available. Automatically, I cleared what would be her side of the table, shoving my books into a pile. I doubted she would feel very comfortable there. She was in for a long semester—in this class, at least. Perhaps, though, sitting beside her, I’d be able to flush out her thoughts’ hiding place… not that I’d ever needed close proximity before. Not that I would find anything worth listening to. Bella Swan walked into the flow of heated air that blew toward me from the vent. Her scent hit me like a battering ram, like an exploding grenade. There was no image violent enough to encompass the force of what happened to me in that moment. Instantly, I was transformed. I was nothing close to the human I’d once been. No trace of the shreds of humanity I’d managed to cloak myself in over the years remained. I was a predator. She was my prey. There was nothing else in the whole world but that truth. There was no room full of witnesses—they were already collateral damage in my mind. The mystery of her thoughts was forgotten. Her thoughts meant nothing, for she would not go on thinking them much longer. I was a vampire, and she had the sweetest blood I’d smelled in more than eighty years. I hadn’t imagined that such a scent could exist. If I’d known it did, I would have gone searching for it long ago. I would have scoured the planet for her. I could imagine the taste.… Thirst burned through my throat like fire. My mouth felt baked and desiccated, and the fresh flow of venom did nothing to dispel that sensation. My stomach twisted with the hunger that was an echo of the thirst. My muscles coiled to spring. Not a full second had passed. She was still taking the same step that had put her downwind from me. As her foot touched the ground, her eyes slid toward me, a movement she clearly meant to be stealthy. Her gaze met mine, and I saw myself reflected in the mirror of her eyes. The shock of the face I saw there saved her life for a few thorny moments. She didn’t make it easier. When she processed the expression on my face, blood flooded her cheeks again, turning her skin the most delicious color I’d ever seen. The scent was a thick haze in my brain. I could barely think through it. My instincts raged, resisting control, incoherent. She walked more quickly now, as if she understood the need to escape. Her haste made her clumsy—she tripped and stumbled forward, almost falling into the girl seated in front of me. Vulnerable, weak. Even more than usual for a human. I tried to focus on the face I’d seen in her eyes, a face I recognized with revulsion. The face of the monster inside me—the face I’d beaten back with decades of effort and uncompromising discipline. How easily it sprang to the surface now! The scent swirled around me again, scattering my thoughts and nearly propelling me out of my seat. No. My hand gripped under the edge of the table as I tried to hold myself in my chair. The wood was not up to the task. My hand crushed through the strut and came away with a palmful of splintered pulp, leaving the shape of my fingers carved into the remaining wood. Destroy evidence. That was a fundamental rule. I quickly pulverized the edges of the shape with my fingertips, leaving nothing but a ragged hole and a pile of shavings on the floor, which I scattered with my foot. Destroy evidence. Collateral damage… I knew what had to happen now. The girl would have to come sit beside me, and I would have to kill her. The innocent bystanders in this classroom, eighteen other children and one man, could not be allowed to leave, having seen what they would soon see. I flinched at the thought of what I must do. Even at my very worst, I had never committed this kind of atrocity. I had never killed innocents. And now I planned to slaughter twenty of them at once. The face of the monster in my reflection mocked me. Even as part of me shuddered away from him, another part was planning what would happen next. If I killed the girl first, I would have only fifteen or twenty seconds with her before the humans in the room reacted. Maybe a little longer if at first they did not realize what I was doing. She would not have time to scream or feel pain; I would not kill her cruelly. That much I could give this stranger with her horribly desirable blood. But then I would have to stop them from escaping. I wouldn’t have to worry about the windows, too high up and small to provide an escape for anyone. Just the door—block that and they were trapped. It would be slower and more difficult, trying to take them all down when they were panicked and scrambling, moving in chaos. Not impossible, but there would be much more noise. Time for lots of screaming. Someone would hear… and I’d be forced to kill even more innocents in this black hour. And her blood would cool while I murdered the others. The scent punished me, closing my throat with dry aching.… So the witnesses first, then. I mapped it out in my head. I was in the middle of the room, the row farthest from the front. I would take my right side first. I could snap four or five of their necks per second, I estimated. It would not be noisy. The right side would be the lucky side; they would not see me coming. Moving around the front and back down the left side, it would take me, at most, five seconds to end every life in this room. Long enough for Bella Swan to see, briefly, what was coming for her. Long enough for her to feel fear. Long enough, maybe, if shock didn’t freeze her in place, for her to work up a scream. One soft scream that would not bring anyone running. I took a deep breath, and the scent was a fire that raced through my dry veins, burning out from my chest to consume every better impulse that I was capable of. She was just turning now. In a few seconds, she would sit down inches away from me. The monster in my head exulted. Someone slammed shut a folder on my left. I didn’t look up to see which of the doomed humans it was, but the motion sent a wave of ordinary, unscented air wafting across my face. For one short second, I was able to think clearly. In that precious instant, I saw two faces in my head, side by side. One was mine, or rather had been: the red-eyed monster that had killed so many people that I’d stopped counting. Rationalized, justified murders. I had been a killer of killers, a killer of other, less powerful monsters. It was a god complex, I acknowledged that—deciding who deserved a death sentence. It was a compromise with myself. I had fed on human blood, but only by the loosest definition. My victims were, in their various dark pastimes, barely more human than I was. The other face was Carlisle’s. There was no resemblance between the two faces. They were bright day and blackest night. There was no reason for a resemblance to exist. Carlisle was not my father in the basic biological sense. We shared no common features. The similarity in our coloring was a product of what we were; every vampire was corpse-pale. The similarity in the color of our eyes was another matter —a reflection of a mutual choice. And yet, though there was no basis for a resemblance, I’d imagined that my face had begun to reflect his, to an extent, in the last seventy-odd years that I had embraced his choice and followed in his steps. My features had not changed, but it seemed to me as though some of his wisdom had marked my expression, a little of his compassion could be traced in the set of my mouth, and hints of his patience were evident on my brow. All those tiny improvements were lost in the monster’s face. In a few moments, there would be nothing left in me that would reflect the years I’d spent with my creator, my mentor, my father in all the ways that counted. My eyes would glow red as a devil’s; all likeness would be lost forever. In my head, Carlisle’s kind eyes did not judge me. I knew that he would forgive me for this horrible act. Because he loved me. Because he thought I was better than I was. Bella Swan sat down in the chair next to me, her movements stiff and awkward—no doubt with fear—and the scent of her blood bloomed in an inescapable cloud around me. I would prove my father wrong about me. The misery of this fact hurt almost as much as the fire in my throat. I leaned away from her in revulsion—disgusted by the monster aching to take her. Why did she have to come here? Why did she have to exist? Why did she have to ruin the little peace I had in this nonlife of mine? Why had this aggravating human ever been born? She would ruin me. I turned my face away from her as a sudden fierce, irrational hatred washed through me. I didn’t want to be the monster! I didn’t want to kill this roomful of harmless children! I didn’t want to lose everything I’d gained in a lifetime of sacrifice and denial! I wouldn’t. She couldn’t make me. The scent was the problem, the hideously appealing scent of her blood. If there was only some way to resist… if only another gust of fresh air could clear my head. Bella Swan shook out her long, thick mahogany hair in my direction. Was she insane? No, there was no helpful breeze. But I didn’t have to breathe. I stopped the flow of air through my lungs. The relief was instantaneous, but incomplete. I still had the memory of the scent in my head, the taste of it on the back of my tongue. I wouldn’t be able to resist even that for long. Every life in this room was in danger while she and I were in it together. I should run. I wanted to run, to get away from the heat of her next to me, and the punishing pain of the burning, but I wasn’t one hundred percent sure that if I unlocked my muscles to move, even just to stand, I wouldn’t lash out and commit the slaughter I’d already planned. But perhaps I could resist for an hour. Would one hour be enough time to gain control to move without striking? I doubted, then forced myself to commit. I would make it enough. Just enough time to get out of this room full of victims, victims that perhaps didn’t have to be victims. If I could resist for one short hour. It was an uncomfortable feeling, not breathing. My body did not need oxygen, but it went against my instincts. I relied on scent more than my other senses in times of stress. It led the way in the hunt; it was the first warning in case of danger. I did not often come across something as dangerous as I was, but self-preservation was just as strong in my kind as it was in the average human. Uncomfortable, but manageable. More bearable than smelling her and not sinking my teeth through that fine, thin, see-through skin to the hot, wet, pulsing— An hour! Just one hour. I must not think of the scent, the taste. The silent girl kept her hair between us, leaning forward so that it spilled across her folder. I couldn’t see her face to try to read the emotions in her clear, deep eyes. Was she trying to hide those eyes from me? Out of fear? Shyness? To keep her secrets? My former irritation at being stymied by her soundless thoughts was weak and pale in comparison to the need—and the hate—that possessed me now. For I hated this frail girl beside me, hated her with all the fervor with which I clung to my former self, my love of my family, my dreams of being something better than what I was. Hating her, hating how she made me feel —it helped a little. Yes, the irritation I’d felt before was weak, but it, too, helped a little. I clung to any thought that distracted me from imagining what she would taste like.… Hate and irritation. Impatience. Would the hour never pass? And when the hour ended… she would walk out of this room. And I would do what? If I could control the monster, make him see that the delay would be worth it… I could introduce myself. Hello, my name is Edward Cullen. May I walk you to your next class? She would say yes. It would be the polite thing to do. Even already fearing me, as I was sure she did, she would follow convention and walk beside me. It should be easy enough to lead her in the wrong direction. A spur of the forest reached out like a finger to touch the back corner of the parking lot. I could tell her I’d forgotten a book in my car.… Would anyone notice that I was the last person she’d been seen with? It was raining, as usual. Two dark raincoats heading in the wrong direction wouldn’t pique too much interest or give me away. Except that I was not the only student who was aware of her today— though no one was as blisteringly aware as I. Mike Newton, in particular, was conscious of every shift in her weight as she fidgeted in her chair—she was uncomfortable so close to me, just as anyone would be, just as I’d expected before her scent had destroyed all charitable concern. Mike Newton would notice if she left the classroom with me. If I could last an hour, could I last two? I flinched at the pain of the burning. She would go home to an empty house. Police Chief Swan worked an eight-hour day. I knew his house, as I knew every house in the tiny town. His home was nestled right up against thick woods, with no close neighbors. Even had she time to scream, which she would not, there would be no one to hear. That would be the responsible way to deal with this. I’d gone more than seven decades without human blood. If I held my breath, I could last two hours. And when I had her alone, there would be no chance of anyone else getting hurt. And no reason to rush through the experience, the monster in my head agreed. It was sophistry to think that by saving the nineteen humans in this room with effort and patience, I would be less of a monster when I killed this innocent girl. Though I hated her, I was absolutely aware that my hatred was unjust. I knew that what I really hated was myself. And I would hate us both so much more when she was dead. I made it through the hour in this way—imagining the best ways to kill her. I tried to avoid imagining the actual act. That might be too much for me. So I planned strategy and nothing more. Once, toward the very end, she peeked up at me through the fluid wall of her hair. I could feel the unjustified hatred burning out of me as I met her gaze—see the reflection of it in her frightened eyes. Blood painted her cheek before she could hide in her hair again, and I was nearly undone. But the bell rang. And we—how clich?—were saved. She, from death. I, for just a short time, from being the nightmarish creature I feared and loathed. Now I had to move. Even focusing all my attention on the simplest of actions, I couldn’t walk as slowly as I should; I darted from the room. If anyone had been looking, they might have suspected that there was something not right about my exit. No one was paying attention to me; all thoughts still swirled around the girl who was condemned to die in little more than an hour’s time. I hid in my car. I didn’t like to think of myself as having to hide. How cowardly that sounded. But I didn’t have enough discipline left to be around humans now. Focusing so much of my efforts on not killing one of them left me no resources to resist the others. What a waste that would be. If I were to give in to the monster, I might as well make it worth the defeat. I played a CD that usually calmed me, but it did little for me now. No, what helped most was the cool, wet air that drifted with the light rain through my open windows. Though I could remember the scent of Bella Swan’s blood with perfect clarity, inhaling this clean air was like washing out the inside of my body from its infection. I was sane again. I could think again. And I could fight again. I could fight what I didn’t want to be. I didn’t have to go to her home. I didn’t have to kill her. Obviously, I was a rational, thinking creature, and I had a choice. There was always a choice. It hadn’t felt that way in the classroom… but I was away from her now. I didn’t have to disappoint my father. I didn’t have to cause my mother stress, worry… pain. Yes, it would hurt my adopted mother, too. And she was so gentle, so tender and loving. Causing someone like Esme pain was truly inexcusable. Perhaps, if I avoided this girl very, very carefully, there was no need for my life to change. I had things ordered the way I liked them. Why should I let some aggravating and delicious nobody ruin that? How ironic that I’d wanted to protect this human girl from the paltry, toothless threat of Jessica Stanley’s snide thoughts. I was the last person who would ever stand as a protector for Isabella Swan. She would never need protection from anything more than she needed it from me. Where was Alice? I suddenly wondered. Hadn’t she seen me killing the Swan girl in a multitude of ways? Why hadn’t she come to my aid—to stop me or help me clean up the evidence, whichever? Was she so absorbed with watching for trouble with Jasper that she’d missed this much more horrific possibility? Or was I stronger than I thought? Would I really not have done anything to the girl? No. I knew that wasn’t true. Alice must be concentrating vary hard on Jasper. I searched in the direction I knew my sister would be, in the small building used for English classes. It did not take me long to locate her familiar “voice.” And I was right. Her every thought was turned to Jasper, watching his small choices with minute scrutiny. I wished I could ask her advice, but at the same time, I was glad she didn’t know what I was capable of. I felt a new burn through my body—the burn of shame. I didn’t want any of them to know. If I could avoid Bella Swan, if I could manage not to kill her—even as I thought that, the monster writhed and gnashed his teeth in frustration—then no one would have to know. If I could keep away from her scent… There was no reason I shouldn’t try, at least. Make a good choice. Try to be what Carlisle thought I was. The last hour of school was almost over. I decided to put my new plan into action at once. Better than sitting here in the parking lot, where she might pass me and ruin my attempt. Again, I felt the unjust hatred for the girl. I walked swiftly—a little too swiftly, but there were no witnesses— across the tiny campus to the office. It was empty except for the receptionist, who didn’t notice my silent entrance. “Ms. Cope?” The woman with the unnaturally red hair looked up and startled. It always caught them off guard, the little markers they didn’t understand, no matter how many times they’d seen one of us before. “Oh,” she gasped, a little flustered. She smoothed her shirt. Silly, she thought to herself. He’s almost young enough to be my son. “Hello, Edward. What can I do for you?” Her eyelashes fluttered behind her thick glasses. Uncomfortable. But I knew how to be charming when I wanted to be. It was easy, since I was able to know instantly how any tone or gesture was taken. I leaned forward, meeting her gaze as if I were staring deep into her flat brown eyes. Her thoughts were already in a flutter. This should be simple. “I was wondering if you could help me with my schedule,” I said in the soft voice I reserved for not scaring humans. I heard the tempo of her heart increase. “Of course, Edward. How can I help?” Too young, too young, she chanted to herself. Wrong, of course. I was older than her grandfather. “I was wondering if I could move from my Biology class to a seniorlevel science. Physics, perhaps?” “It there a problem with Mr. Banner, Edward?” “Not at all, it’s just that I’ve already studied this material.…” “In that accelerated school you all went to in Alaska. Right.” Her thin lips pursed as she considered this. They should all be in college. I’ve heard the teachers complain. Perfect 4.0s, never a hesitation with a response, never a wrong answer on a test—like they’ve found some way to cheat in every subject. Mr. Varner would rather believe that anyone was cheating in Trig than think a student was smarter than him. I’ll bet their mother tutors them.… “Actually, Edward, Physics is pretty much full right now. Mr. Banner hates to have more than twenty-five students in a class—” “I wouldn’t be any trouble.” Of course not. Not a perfect Cullen. “I know that, Edward. But there just aren’t enough seats as it is.…” “Could I drop the class, then? I could use the period for independent study.” “Drop Biology?” Her mouth fell open. That’s crazy. How hard is it to sit through a subject you already know? There must be a problem with Mr. Banner. “You won’t have enough credits to graduate.” “I’ll catch up next year.” “Maybe you should talk to your parents about that.” The door opened behind me, but whoever it was did not think of me, so I ignored the arrival and concentrated on Ms. Cope. I leaned slightly closer and stared as if I was gazing more deeply into her eyes. This would work better if they were gold today instead of black. The blackness frightened people, as it should. My miscalculation affected the woman. She flinched back, confused by her conflicting instincts. “Please, Ms. Cope?” I murmured, my voice as smooth and compelling as it could be, and her momentary aversion eased. “Isn’t there some other section I could switch to? I’m sure there has to be an open slot somewhere? Sixth-hour Biology can’t be the only option.…” I smiled at her, careful not to flash my teeth so widely that it would scare her again, letting the expression soften my face. Her heart drummed faster. Too young, she reminded herself frantically. “Well, maybe I could talk to Bob—I mean Mr. Banner. I could see if—” A second was all it took to change everything: the atmosphere in the room, my mission here, the reason I leaned toward the red-haired woman. … What had been for one purpose was now for another. A second was all it took for Samantha Wells to enter the room, place a signed tardy slip in the basket by the door, and hurry out again, in a rush to be away from school. A sudden gust of wind through the open door crashed into me, and I realized why that first person through the door had not interrupted me with her thoughts. I turned, though I did not need to make sure. Bella Swan stood with her back pressed to the wall beside the door, a piece of paper clutched in her hands. Her eyes were even larger than before as she took in my ferocious, inhuman glare. The smell of her blood saturated every particle of air in the tiny, hot room. My throat burst into flames. The monster glared back at me from the mirror of her eyes again, a mask of evil. My hand hesitated in the air above the counter. I would not have to look back in order to reach across it and slam Ms. Cope’s head into her desk with enough force to kill her. Two lives rather than twenty. A trade. The monster waited anxiously, hungrily, for me to do it. But there was always a choice—there had to be. I cut off the motion of my lungs and fixed Carlisle’s face in front of my eyes. I turned back to face Ms. Cope and heard her internal surprise at the change in my expression. She shrank away from me, but her fear did not form into coherent words. Using all the control I’d mastered in my decades of self-denial, I made my voice even and smooth. There was just enough air left in my lungs to speak once more, rushing through the words. “Never mind, then. I can see that it’s impossible. Thank you so much for your help.” I spun and launched myself from the room, trying not to feel the warmblooded heat of the girl’s body as I passed within inches of it. I didn’t stop until I was in my car, moving too fast the entire way there. Most of the humans had cleared out already, so there weren’t a lot of witnesses. I heard a sophomore, D. J. Garrett, notice and then disregard.… Where did Cullen come from? It was like he just came out of thin air.… There I go, with the imagination again. Mom always says… When I slid into my Volvo, the others were already there. I tried to control my breathing, but I was gasping at the fresh air as if I’d been suffocated. “Edward?” Alice asked, alarm in her voice. I just shook my head at her. “What the hell happened to you?” Emmett demanded, distracted for the moment from the fact that Jasper was not in the mood for his rematch. Instead of answering, I threw the car into reverse. I had to get out of this lot before Bella Swan could follow me here, too. My own personal demon, tormenting me… I swung the car around and accelerated. I hit forty before I was out of the parking lot. On the road, I hit seventy before I made the corner. Without looking, I knew that Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper had all turned to stare at Alice. She shrugged. She couldn’t see what had passed, only what was coming. She looked ahead for me now. We both processed what she saw in her head, and we were both surprised. “You’re leaving?” she whispered. The others stared at me now. “Am I?” I snarled through my teeth. She saw it then, as my resolve wavered and another choice spun my future in a darker direction. “Oh.” Bella Swan, dead. My eyes, glowing crimson with fresh blood. The search that would follow. The careful time we would wait before it was safe for us to pull out of Forks and start again… “Oh,” she said again. The picture grew more specific. I saw the inside of Chief Swan’s house for the first time, saw Bella in a small kitchen with yellow cupboards, her back to me as I stalked her from the shadows, let the scent pull me toward her.… “Stop!” I groaned, not able to bear more. “Sorry,” she whispered. The monster rejoiced. And the vision in her head shifted again. An empty highway at night, the trees beside it coated in snow, flashing by at almost two hundred miles per hour. “I’ll miss you,” she said. “No matter how short a time you’re gone.” Emmett and Rosalie exchanged an apprehensive glance. We were almost to the turnoff onto the long drive that led to our home. “Drop us here,” Alice instructed. “You should tell Carlisle yourself.” I nodded, and the car squealed to a sudden stop. Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper got out in silence; they would make Alice explain when I was gone. Alice touched my shoulder. “You will do the right thing,” she murmured. Not a vision this time—an order. “She’s Charlie Swan’s only family. It would kill him, too.” “Yes,” I said, agreeing only with the last part. She slid out to join the others, her eyebrows pulling together in anxiety. They melted into the woods, out of sight before I could turn the car around. I knew the visions in Alice’s head would be flashing from dark to bright like a strobe light as I sped back to Forks doing ninety. I wasn’t sure where I was going. To say goodbye to my father? Or to embrace the monster inside me? The road flew away beneath my tires. 2. OPEN BOOK I LEANED BACK AGAINST THE SOFT SNOWBANK, LETTING THE DRY POWDER reshape itself around my weight. My skin had cooled to match the air around me, and the tiny pieces of ice felt like velvet under my skin. The sky above me was clear, brilliant with stars, glowing blue in some places, yellow in others. The stars created majestic, swirling shapes against the black backdrop of the empty universe—an awesome sight. Exquisitely beautiful. Or rather, it should have been exquisite. Would have been, if I’d been able to really see it. It wasn’t getting any better. Six days had passed, six days I’d hidden here in the empty Denali wilderness, but I was no closer to freedom than I had been since the first moment I’d caught her scent. When I stared up at the jeweled sky, it was as if there were an obstruction between my eyes and its beauty. The obstruction was a face, just an unremarkable human face, but I couldn’t quite seem to banish it from my mind. I heard the approaching thoughts before I heard the footsteps that accompanied them. The sound of movement was only a faint whisper against the powder. I was not surprised that Tanya had followed me here. I knew she’d been mulling over this coming conversation for the last few days, putting it off until she was sure of exactly what she wanted to say. She sprang into sight about sixty yards away, leaping onto the tip of an outcropping of black rock and balancing there on the balls of her bare feet. Tanya’s skin was silver in the starlight, and her long blond curls shone pale, almost pink with their strawberry tint. Her amber eyes glinted as she spied me, half-buried in the snow, and her full lips stretched slowly into a smile. Exquisite. If I’d really been able to see her. I sighed. She hadn’t dressed for human eyes; she wore only a thin cotton camisole and a pair of shorts. Crouching down on a promontory of stone, she touched the rock with her fingertips, and her body coiled. Cannonball, she thought. She launched herself into the air. Her shape became a dark, twisting shadow as she spun gracefully between the stars and me. She curled herself into a ball just as she struck the piled snowbank beside me. A blizzard of snow flew up around me. The stars went black and I was buried deep in the feathery ice crystals. I sighed again, breathing in the ice, but didn’t move to unearth myself. The blackness under the snow neither hurt nor improved the view. I still saw the same face. “Edward?” Then snow was flying again as Tanya swiftly disinterred me. She brushed the powder from my skin, not quite meeting my gaze. “Sorry,” she murmured. “It was a joke.” “I know. It was funny.” Her mouth twisted down. “Irina and Kate said I should leave you alone. They think I’m annoying you.” “Not at all,” I assured her. “On the contrary, I’m the one who’s being rude—abominably rude. I’m very sorry.” You’re going home, aren’t you? she thought. “I haven’t… entirely… decided that yet.” But you’re not staying here. Her thought was wistful now. “No. It doesn’t seem to be… helping.” Her lips pushed out into a pout. “That’s my fault, isn’t it?” “Of course not.” She hadn’t made anything easier, for certain, but the face that haunted me was the only true impediment. Don’t be a gentleman. I smiled. I make you uncomfortable, she accused. “No.” She raised one eyebrow, her expression so disbelieving that I had to laugh. One short laugh, followed by another sigh. “All right,” I admitted. “A little bit.” She sighed, too, and put her chin in her hands. “You’re a thousand times lovelier than the stars, Tanya. Of course, you’re already well aware of that. Don’t let my stubbornness undermine your confidence.” I chuckled at the unlikeliness of that. “I’m not used to rejection,” she grumbled, her lower lip pushing out into an attractive pout. “Certainly not,” I agreed, trying with little success to block out her thoughts as she fleetingly sifted through memories of her thousands of successful conquests. Mostly, Tanya preferred human men—they were much more populous for one thing, with the added advantage of being soft and warm. And always eager, definitely. “Succubus,” I teased, hoping to interrupt the images flickering in her head. She grinned, flashing her teeth. “The original.” Unlike Carlisle, Tanya and her sisters had discovered their consciences slowly. In the end, it was their fondness for human men that turned them against the slaughter. Now the men they loved… lived. “When you showed up here,” Tanya said slowly, “I thought that…” I’d known what she’d thought. And I should have guessed that she would feel that way. But I’d not been at my best for analytical thinking in that moment. “You thought that I’d changed my mind.” “Yes.” She scowled. “I feel horrible for toying with your expectations, Tanya. I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t thinking. It’s just that I left in… quite a hurry.” “I don’t suppose you’d tell me why?” I sat up and folded my arms across my chest, my shoulders rigid. “I’d prefer not to talk about it. Please forgive my reserve.” She was quiet again, still speculating. I ignored her, trying in vain to appreciate the stars. She gave up after a silent moment, and her thoughts pursued a new direction. Where will you go, Edward, if you leave? Back to Carlisle? “I don’t think so,” I whispered. Where would I go? I could not think of one place on the entire planet that held any interest for me. There was nothing I wanted to see or do. Because no matter where I went, I would not be going to anywhere—I would only be running from. I hated that. When had I become such a coward? Tanya threw her slender arm around my shoulders. I stiffened but did not flinch from her touch. She meant it as nothing more than friendly comfort. Mostly. “I think that you will go back,” she said, her voice taking on just a hint of her long-lost Russian accent. “No matter what it is… or who it is… that haunts you. You’ll face it head-on. You’re the type.” Her thoughts were as certain as her words. I tried to embrace the vision of myself that she saw. The one who faced things head-on. It was pleasant to think of myself that way again. I’d never doubted my courage, my ability to face difficulty, before that horrible hour in a high school Biology class such a short time ago. I kissed her cheek, pulling back swiftly when she twisted her face toward mine. She smiled ruefully at my quickness. “Thank you, Tanya. I needed to hear that.” Her thoughts turned petulant. “You’re welcome, I guess. I wish you would be more reasonable about things, Edward.” “I’m sorry, Tanya. You know you’re far too good for me. I just… haven’t found what I’m looking for yet.” “Well, if you leave before I see you again… goodbye, Edward.” “Goodbye, Tanya.” As I said the words, I could see it. I could see myself leaving. Being strong enough to go back to the one place I wanted to be. “Again, thank you.” She was on her feet in one nimble move, and then she was running away, ghosting across the snow so quickly that her feet had no time to sink in. She left no prints behind her. She didn’t look back. My rejection bothered her more than she’d let on before, even in her thoughts. She wouldn’t want to see me again before I left. My mouth twisted downward. I didn’t like hurting Tanya, though her feelings were not deep, hardly pure, and, in any case, not something I could return. It still made me feel less than a gentleman. I put my chin on my knees and stared up at the stars again, though I was suddenly anxious to be on my way. I knew that Alice would see me coming home, that she would tell the others. This would make them happy— Carlisle and Esme especially. But I gazed at the stars for one more moment, trying to see past the face in my head. Between me and the brilliant lights in the sky, a pair of bewildered chocolate-brown eyes wondered at my motives, seeming to ask what this decision would mean for her. Of course, I couldn’t be sure that was really the information her curious eyes sought. Even in my imagination, I couldn’t hear her thoughts. Bella Swan’s eyes continued to question, and an unobstructed view of the stars continued to elude me. With a heavy sigh, I gave up and got to my feet. If I ran, I would be back to Carlisle’s car in less than an hour. In a hurry to see my family—and wanting very much to be the Edward who faced things head-on—I raced across the starlit snowfield, leaving no footprints. “It’s going to be okay,” Alice breathed. Her eyes were unfocused, and Jasper had one hand lightly under her elbow, guiding her forward as we walked into the run-down cafeteria in a close-huddled group. Rosalie and Emmett led the way, Emmett looking ridiculously like a bodyguard in the middle of hostile territory. Rose looked wary, too, but much more irritated than protective. “Of course it is,” I grumbled. Their behavior was ludicrous. If I weren’t positive that I could handle this moment, I would have stayed home. The sudden shift from our normal, even playful morning—it had snowed in the night, and Emmett and Jasper were not above taking advantage of my distraction to bombard me with slushballs; when they got bored with my lack of response, they’d turned on each other—to this overdone vigilance would have been comical if it weren’t so irritating. “She’s not here yet, but the way she’s going to come in… she won’t be downwind if we sit in our regular spot.” “Of course we’ll sit in our regular spot. Stop it, Alice. You’re getting on my nerves. I’ll be absolutely fine.” She blinked once as Jasper helped her into her seat, and her eyes finally focused on my face. “Hmm,” she said, sounding surprised. “I think you’re right.” “Of course I am,” I muttered. I hated being the focus of their concern. I felt a sudden sympathy for Jasper, remembering all the times we’d hovered protectively over him. He met my glance briefly, and grinned. Annoying, isn’t it? I glowered at him. Was it just last week that this long, drab room had seemed so killingly dull to me? That it had seemed almost like sleep, like a coma, to be here? Today my nerves were stretched tight—piano wires, tensed to sing at the lightest pressure. My senses were hyperalert; I scanned every sound, every sight, every movement of the air that touched my skin, every thought. Especially the thoughts. There was only one sense that I kept locked down, refused to use. Smell, of course. I didn’t breathe. I was expecting to hear more about the Cullens in the thoughts that I sifted through. All day I’d been waiting, searching for whichever new acquaintance Bella Swan might have confided in, trying to see the direction the new gossip would take. But there was nothing. No one particularly noticed the five vampires in the cafeteria, just as before the girl had come. Several of the humans here were still thinking of her, still thinking the same thoughts from last week. Instead of finding this unutterably boring, I was now fascinated. Had she said nothing to anyone about me? There was no way that she had not noticed my black, murderous glare. I had seen her react to it. Surely, I’d traumatized her. I was convinced that she would have mentioned it to someone, maybe even have exaggerated the story a bit to make it better. Given me a few menacing lines. And then she’d also heard me trying to get out of our shared Biology class. She must have wondered, after seeing my expression, whether she was the cause. A normal girl would have asked around, compared her experience to others’, looked for common ground that would explain my behavior so she didn’t feel singled out. Humans were constantly desperate to feel normal, to fit in. To blend in with everyone else around them, like a featureless flock of sheep. The need was particularly strong during the insecure adolescent years. This girl would be no exception to that rule. But no one at all took notice of us sitting here, at our usual table. Bella must be exceptionally shy if she’d hadn’t confided in anyone. Perhaps she had spoken to her father; maybe that was the strongest relationship… though that seemed unlikely, given that she had spent so little time with him throughout her life. She would be closer to her mother. Still, I would have to pass by Chief Swan sometime soon and listen to what he was thinking. “Anything new?” Jasper asked. I concentrated, allowing all the swarms of thoughts to invade my mind again. There wasn’t anything that stood out; no one was thinking of us. Despite my earlier worries, it didn’t seem that there was anything wrong with my abilities, aside from the silent girl. I’d shared my concerns with Carlisle upon my return, but he’d only ever heard of talents growing stronger with practice. Never did they atrophy. Jasper waited impatiently. “Nothing. She… must not have said anything.” All of them raised eyebrows at this news. “Maybe you’re not as scary as you think you are,” Emmett said, chuckling. “I bet I could have frightened her better than that.” I rolled my eyes at him. “Wonder why…?” He puzzled again over my revelation about the girl’s unique silence. “We’ve been over that. I don’t know.” “She’s coming in,” Alice murmured then. My body froze. “Try to look human.” “Human, you say?” Emmett asked. He held up his right fist, twisting his fingers to reveal the snowball he’d saved in his palm. It had not melted there; he’d squeezed it into a lumpy block of ice. He had his eyes on Jasper, but I saw the direction of his thoughts. So did Alice, of course. When he abruptly hurled the ice chunk at her, she flicked it away with a casual flutter of her fingers. The ice ricocheted across the length of the cafeteria, too fast to be visible to human eyes, and shattered with a sharp crack against the brick wall. The brick cracked, too. The heads in that corner of the room all turned to stare at the pile of broken ice on the floor, and then swiveled to find the culprit. They didn’t look farther than a few tables away. No one looked at us. “Very human, Emmett,” Rosalie said scathingly. “Why don’t you punch through the wall while you’re at it?” “It would look more impressive if you did it, gorgeous.” I tried to pay attention to them, keeping a grin fixed on my face as though I were part of their banter. I did not allow myself to look toward the line where I knew she was standing. But that was all I was listening to. I could hear Jessica’s impatience with the new girl, who seemed to be distracted, too, standing motionless in the moving line. I saw, in Jessica’s thoughts, that Bella Swan’s cheeks were once more colored bright pink with blood. I pulled in a few short, shallow breaths, ready to quit breathing if any hint of her scent touched the air near me. Mike Newton was with the two girls. I heard both his voices, mental and verbal, when he asked Jessica what was wrong with the Swan girl. It was distasteful the way his thoughts wrapped around her, the flicker of already established fantasies that clouded his mind while he watched her start and look up from her reverie as though she’d forgotten he was there. “Nothing,” I heard Bella say in that quiet, clear voice. It seemed to ring like a struck bell over the babble in the cafeteria, but I knew that was just because I was listening for it so intently. “I’ll just get a soda today,” she continued as she moved to catch up with the line. I couldn’t help flickering one glance in her direction. She was staring at the floor, the blood slowly fading from her face. I looked away quickly, to Emmett, who laughed at the now pained-looking smile on my face. You look sick, brother mine. I rearranged my features so the expression would seem casual and effortless. Jessica was wondering aloud about the girl’s lack of appetite. “Aren’t you hungry?” “Actually, I feel a little sick.” Her voice was lower, but still very clear. Why did it bother me, the protective concern that suddenly emanated from Mike Newton’s thoughts? What did it matter that there was a possessive edge to them? It wasn’t my business if Mike Newton felt unnecessarily anxious for her. Perhaps this was the way everyone responded to her. Hadn’t I wanted, instinctively, to protect her, too? Before I’d wanted to kill her, that is… But was the girl ill? It was hard to judge—she looked so delicate with her translucent skin.… Then I realized that I was worrying, just like that dimwitted boy, and I forced myself not to think about her health. Regardless, I didn’t like monitoring her through Mike’s thoughts. I switched to Jessica’s, watching carefully as the three of them chose which table to sit at. Fortunately, they sat with Jessica’s usual companions, at one of the first tables in the room. Not downwind, just as Alice had promised. Alice elbowed me. She’s going to look soon. Act human. I clenched my teeth behind my grin. “Ease up, Edward,” Emmett said. “Honestly. So you kill one human. That’s hardly the end of the world.” “You would know,” I murmured. Emmett laughed. “You’ve got to learn to get over things. Like I do. Eternity is a long time to wallow in guilt.” Just then, Alice tossed a smaller handful of ice that she’d been hiding into Emmett’s unsuspecting face. He blinked, surprised, and then grinned in anticipation. “You asked for it,” he said as he leaned across the table and shook his ice-encrusted hair in her direction. The snow, melting in the warm room, flew out from his hair in a thick shower of half liquid, half ice. “Ew!” Rose complained as she and Alice recoiled from the deluge. Alice laughed, and we all joined in. I could see in Alice’s head how she’d orchestrated this perfect moment, and I knew that the girl—I should stop thinking of her that way, as if she were the only girl in the world—that Bella would be watching us laugh and play, looking as happy and human and unrealistically ideal as a Norman Rockwell painting. Alice kept laughing and held her tray up as a shield. The girl—Bella— must still be staring at us. … staring at the Cullens again, someone thought, catching my attention. I looked automatically toward the unintentional call, easily recognizing the voice as my eyes found their destination—I’d been listening to it so much today. But my eyes slid right past Jessica and focused on the girl’s penetrating gaze. She looked down quickly, hiding behind her thick hair again. What was she thinking? The frustration seemed to be getting more acute as time went on, rather than dulling. I tried—uncertain, for I’d never done this before—to probe with my mind at the silence around her. My extra hearing had always come to me naturally, without asking; I’d never had to work at it. But I concentrated now, trying to break through whatever armor surrounded her. Nothing but silence. What is it about her? Jessica thought, echoing my own irritation. “Edward Cullen is staring at you,” she whispered in the Swan girl’s ear, adding a giggle. There was no hint of her jealous annoyance in her tone. Jessica seemed to be skilled at feigning friendship. I listened, too engrossed, to the girl’s response. “He doesn’t look angry, does he?” she whispered back. So she had noticed my wild reaction last week. Of course she had. The question confused Jessica. I saw my own face in her thoughts as she checked my expression, but I did not meet her glance. I was still concentrating on the girl, trying to hear something. Intent focus didn’t seem to help at all. “No,” Jess told her, and I knew that she wished she could say yes—how it rankled her, my staring—though there was no trace of that in her voice. “Should he be?” “I don’t think he likes me,” the girl whispered back, laying her head down on her arm as if she were suddenly tired. I tried to understand the motion, but I could only make guesses. Maybe she was tired. “The Cullens don’t like anybody,” Jess reassured her. “Well, they don’t notice anybody enough to like them.” They never used to. Her thought was a grumble of complaint. “But he’s still staring at you.” “Stop looking at him,” the girl said anxiously, lifting her head from her arm to make sure Jessica obeyed the order. Jessica giggled, but did as she was asked. The girl did not look away from her table for the rest of the hour. I thought—though, of course, I could not be sure—that this was deliberate. It seemed as though she wanted to look at me. Her body would shift slightly in my direction, her chin would begin to turn, and then she would catch herself, take a deep breath, and stare fixedly at whoever was speaking. I ignored the other thoughts around the girl for the most part, as they were not, momentarily, about her. Mike Newton was planning a snowball fight in the parking lot after school, not seeming to realize that the snow had already shifted to rain. The flutter of soft flakes against the roof had become the more common patter of raindrops. Could he really not hear the change? It seemed loud to me. When the lunch period ended, I stayed in my seat. The humans filed out, and I caught myself trying to distinguish the sound of her footsteps from the rest, as if there were something important or unusual about them. How stupid. My family made no move to leave, either. They waited to see what I would do. Would I go to class, sit beside the girl, where I could smell the absurdly potent scent of her blood and feel the warmth of her pulse in the air on my skin? Was I strong enough for that? Or had I had enough for one day? As a family, we’d already discussed this moment from every possible angle. Carlisle disapproved of the risk, but he wouldn’t impose his will on mine. Jasper disapproved nearly as much, but from fear of exposure rather than any concern for humankind. Rosalie only worried about how it would affect her life. Alice saw so many obscure, conflicting futures that her visions were atypically unhelpful. Esme thought I could do no wrong. And Emmett just wanted to compare stories about his own experiences with particularly appealing scents. He pulled Jasper into his reminiscing, though Jasper’s history with self-control was so short and so uneven that he was unable to be sure he’d ever had an analogous struggle. Emmett, on the other hand, remembered two such incidents. His memories of them were not encouraging. But he’d been younger then, not as adept at self-control. Surely, I was stronger than that. “I… think it’s okay,” Alice said, hesitant. “Your mind is set. I think you’ll make it through the hour.” But Alice knew well how quickly a mind could change. “Why push it, Edward?” Jasper asked. Though he didn’t want to feel smug that I was the weak one now, I could hear that he did, just a little. “Go home. Take it slow.” “What’s the big deal?” Emmett disagreed. “Either he will or he won’t kill her. Might as well get it over with, either way.” “I don’t want to move yet,” Rosalie complained. “I don’t want to start over. We’re almost out of high school, Emmett. Finally.” I was evenly torn on the decision. I wanted, wanted badly, to face this head-on rather than running away again. But I didn’t want to push myself too far, either. It had been a mistake last week for Jasper to go so long without hunting; was this just as pointless a mistake? I didn’t want to uproot my family. None of them would thank me for that. But I wanted to go to my Biology class. I realized that I wanted to see her face again. That’s what decided it for me. That curiosity. I was angry with myself for feeling it. Hadn’t I promised myself that I wouldn’t let the silence of the girl’s mind make me unduly interested in her? And yet, here I was, most unduly interested. I wanted to know what she was thinking. Her mind was closed, but her eyes were very open. Perhaps I could read them instead. “No, Rose, I think it really will be okay,” Alice said. “It’s… firming up. I’m ninety-three percent sure that nothing bad will happen if he goes to class.” She looked at me, inquisitive, wondering what had changed in my thoughts that made her vision of the future more secure. Would curiosity be enough to keep Bella Swan alive? Emmett was right, though—why not get it over with, either way? I would face the temptation head-on. “Go to class,” I ordered, pushing away from the table. I turned and strode away from them without looking back. I could hear Alice’s worry, Jasper’s censure, Emmett’s approval, and Rosalie’s irritation trailing after me. I took one last deep breath at the door of the classroom, and then held it in my lungs as I walked into the small, warm space. I was not late. Mr. Banner was still setting up for today’s lab. The girl sat at my—at our table, her face down again, staring at the folder she was doodling on. I examined the sketch as I approached, interested in even this trivial creation of her mind, but it was meaningless. Just a random scribbling of loops within loops. Perhaps she was not concentrating on the pattern, but thinking of something else? I pulled my chair back with unnecessary roughness, letting it scrape across the linoleum—humans always felt more comfortable when noise announced someone’s approach. I knew she heard the sound; she did not look up, but her hand missed a loop in the design she was drawing, making it unbalanced. Why didn’t she look up? Probably she was frightened. I must be sure to leave her with a different impression this time. Make her think she’d been imagining things before. “Hello,” I said in the quiet voice I used when I wanted to make humans more comfortable, forming a polite smile with my lips that would not show any teeth. She looked up then, her wide brown eyes startled and full of silent questions. It was the same expression that had been obstructing my vision for the past week. As I stared into those oddly deep brown eyes—the color was like milk chocolate, but the clarity was more comparable to strong tea, there was a depth and transparency; near her pupils, there were tiny flecks of agate green and golden caramel—I realized that my hate, the hate I’d imagined this girl somehow deserved for simply existing, had evaporated. Not breathing now, not tasting her scent, I found it hard to believe that anyone so vulnerable could ever be deserving of hatred. Her cheeks began to flush, and she said nothing. I kept my eyes on hers, focusing only on their questioning depths, and tried to ignore the appetizing color of her skin. I had enough breath to speak for a while longer without inhaling. “My name is Edward Cullen,” I said, though she already knew it. It was the polite way to begin. “I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Bella Swan.” She seemed confused—there was that little pucker between her eyes again. It took her half a second longer than it should have to respond. “How do you know my name?” she demanded, and her voice shook just a little. I must have truly terrified her, and this made me feel guilty. I laughed gently—it was a sound that I knew made humans more at ease. “Oh, I think everyone knows your name.” Surely, she must have realized that she’d become the center of attention in this monotonous place. “The whole town’s been waiting for you to arrive.” She frowned as if this information was unpleasant. I supposed, being shy as she appeared to be, attention would seem like a bad thing to her. Most humans felt the opposite. Though they didn’t want to stand out from the herd, at the same time they craved a spotlight for their individual uniformity. “No,” she said. “I meant, why did you call me Bella?” “Do you prefer Isabella?” I asked, perplexed that I couldn’t see where this question was leading. I didn’t understand. She’d made her preference clear many times that first day. Were all humans this incomprehensible without the mental context as a guide? How much I must rely on that extra sense. Would I be completely blind without it? “No, I like Bella,” she answered, leaning her head slightly to one side. Her expression—if I was reading it correctly—was torn between embarrassment and confusion. “But I think Charlie—I mean my dad—must call me Isabella behind my back. That’s what everyone here seems to know me as.” Her skin darkened one shade pinker. “Oh,” I said, and quickly looked away from her face. I’d just realized what her questions meant: I had slipped up—made an error. If I hadn’t been eavesdropping on all the others that first day, then I would have addressed her initially by her full name. She’d noticed the difference. I felt a pang of unease. It was very quick of her to pick up on my slip. Quite astute, especially for someone who was supposed to be terrified by my proximity. But I had bigger problems than whatever suspicions about me she might be keeping locked inside her head. I was out of air. If I were going to speak to her again, I would have to inhale. It would be hard to avoid speaking. Unfortunately for her, sharing this table made her my lab partner, and we would have to work together today. It would seem odd—and incomprehensibly rude—for me to ignore her while we did the lab. It would make her more suspicious, more afraid. I leaned as far away from her as I could without moving my seat, twisting my head out into the aisle. I braced myself, locking my muscles in place, and then sucked in one quick chestful of air, breathing through my mouth alone. Ahh! It was intensely painful, like swallowing burning coals. Even without smelling her, I could taste her on my tongue. The craving was every bit as strong as that first moment I’d caught her scent last week. I gritted my teeth and tried to compose myself. “Get started,” Mr. Banner commanded. It took every single ounce of self-control I’d achieved in seventy-four years of hard work to turn back to the girl, who was staring down at the table, and smile. “Ladies first, partner?” I offered. She looked up at my expression and her face went blank. Was there something off? In her eyes, I saw the reflection of my usual human-friendly composition of features. The facade looked perfect. Was she frightened again? She didn’t speak. “Or, I could start, if you wish,” I said quietly. “No,” she said, and her face went from white to red again. “I’ll go ahead.” I stared at the equipment on the table—the battered microscope, the box of slides—rather than watch the blood wax and wane under her clear skin. I took another quick breath, through my teeth, and winced as the taste scorched the inside of my throat. “Prophase,” she said after a quick examination. She started to remove the slide, though she’d barely examined it. “Do you mind if I look?” Instinctively—stupidly, as if I were one of her kind—I reached out to stop her hand from removing the slide. For one second, the heat of her skin burned into mine. It was like an electric pulse— the heat shot through my fingers and up my arm. She yanked her hand out from under mine. “I’m sorry,” I muttered. Needing somewhere to look, I grasped the microscope and stared briefly into the eyepiece. She was right. “Prophase,” I agreed. I was still too unsettled to look at her. Breathing as quietly as I could through my gritted teeth and trying to ignore the fiery thirst, I concentrated on the simple assignment, writing the word on the appropriate line on the lab sheet and then switching out the first slide for the next. What was she thinking now? What had it felt like to her when I had touched her hand? My skin must have been ice-cold—repulsive. No wonder she was so quiet. I glanced at the slide. “Anaphase,” I said to myself as I wrote it on the second line. “May I?” she asked. I looked up, surprised to see that she was waiting expectantly, one hand half-stretched toward the microscope. She didn’t look afraid. Did she really think I’d gotten the answer wrong? I couldn’t help but smile at the hopeful expression on her face as I slid the microscope toward her. She stared into the eyepiece with an eagerness that quickly faded. The corners of her mouth turned down. “Slide three?” she asked, not looking up from the microscope, but holding out her hand. I dropped the next slide into her palm, keeping my skin far from hers this time. Sitting beside her was like sitting next to a heat lamp. I could feel myself warming slightly to the higher temperature. She did not look at the slide for long. “Interphase,” she said nonchalantly—perhaps trying a little too hard to sound that way—and pushed the microscope toward me. She did not touch the paper, but waited for me to write the answer. I checked—she was correct again. We finished this way, speaking one word at a time and never meeting each other’s eyes. We were the only ones done—the others in the class were having a harder time with the lab. Mike Newton seemed to be having trouble concentrating; he was trying to watch Bella and me. Wish he’d stayed wherever he went, Mike thought, eyeing me sulfurously. Interesting. I hadn’t realized the boy harbored any specific ill will toward me. This was a new development, about as recent as the girl’s arrival, it seemed. Even more interestingly, I found—to my surprise—that the feeling was mutual. I looked down at the girl again, bemused by the vast range of havoc and upheaval that, despite her ordinary, unthreatening appearance, she was wreaking on my life. It wasn’t that I couldn’t see what Mike was going on about. She was actually sort of pretty for a human, in an unusual way. Better than being beautiful, her face was… unexpected. Not quite symmetrical—her narrow chin out of balance with her wide cheekbones; extreme in the coloring—the contrast of her light skin and dark hair; and then there were the eyes, too big for her face, brimming over with silent secrets.… Eyes that were suddenly boring into mine. I stared back at her, trying to guess even one of those secrets. “Did you get contacts?” she asked abruptly. What a strange question. “No.” I almost smiled at the idea of improving my eyesight. “Oh,” she mumbled. “I thought there was something different about your eyes.” I felt suddenly colder again as I realized that I was not the only one attempting to ferret out secrets today. I shrugged, my shoulders stiff, and glared straight ahead to where the teacher was making his rounds. Of course there was something different about my eyes since the last time she’d stared into them. To prepare myself for today’s ordeal, today’s temptation, I’d spent the entire weekend hunting, satiating my thirst as much as possible, overdoing it, really. I’d glutted myself on the blood of animals, not that it made much difference in the face of the outrageous flavor floating on the air around her. When I’d glared at her last, my eyes had been black with thirst. Now, my body swimming with blood, my eyes were a warm gold—light amber. Another slip. If I’d seen what she meant with her question, I could have just told her yes. I’d sat beside humans for two years now at this school, and she was the first to examine me closely enough to note the change in my eye color. The others, while admiring the beauty of my family, tended to look down quickly when we returned their stares. They shied away, blocking the details of our appearances in an instinctive endeavor to keep themselves from understanding. Ignorance was bliss to the human mind. Why did it have to be this girl who would see too much? Mr. Banner approached our table. I gratefully inhaled the gush of clean air he brought with him before it could mix with her scent. “So, Edward,” he said, looking over our answers, “didn’t you think Isabella should get a chance with the microscope?” “Bella,” I corrected him reflexively. “Actually, she identified three of the five.” Mr. Banner’s thoughts were skeptical as he turned to look at the girl. “Have you done this lab before?” I watched, engrossed, as she smiled, looking slightly embarrassed. “Not with onion root.” “Whitefish blastula?” Mr. Banner probed. “Yeah.” This surprised him. Today’s lab was something he’d pulled from a senior-class course. He nodded thoughtfully at the girl. “Were you in an advanced placement program in Phoenix?” “Yes.” She was advanced, then, intelligent for a human. This did not surprise me. “Well,” Mr. Banner said, pursing his lips, “I guess it’s good you two are lab partners.” He turned and walked away, mumbling “So the other kids can get a chance to learn something for themselves” under his breath. I doubted the girl could hear that. She began scrawling loops across her folder again. Two slips so far in one half hour. An extremely poor showing on my part. Though I had no idea at all what the girl thought of me—how much did she fear, how much did she suspect?—I knew I needed to put forth a better effort to leave her with a new impression. Something to quell her memories of our ferocious last encounter. “It’s too bad about the snow, isn’t it?” I said, repeating the small talk that I’d heard a dozen students discuss already. A boring, standard topic of conversation. The weather—always safe. She stared at me with obvious doubt in her eyes—an abnormal reaction to my very normal words. “Not really.” I tried to steer the conversation back to trite paths. She was from a much brighter, warmer place—her skin seemed to reflect that somehow, despite its fairness—and the cold must make her uncomfortable. My icy touch certainly had. “You don’t like the cold,” I guessed. “Or the wet,” she agreed. “Forks must be a difficult place for you to live.” Perhaps you should not have come here, I wanted to add. Perhaps you should go back where you belong. I wasn’t sure I wanted that, though. I would always remember the scent of her blood—was there any guarantee that I wouldn’t eventually follow her? Besides, if she left, her mind would forever remain a mystery, a constant, nagging puzzle. “You have no idea,” she said in a low voice, glowering past me for a moment. Her answers were never what I expected. They made me want to ask more questions. “Why did you come here, then?” I demanded, realizing instantly that my tone was too accusatory, not casual enough for the conversation. The question sounded rude, prying. “It’s… complicated.” She blinked, leaving it at that, and I nearly imploded out of curiosity—in that second, it burned almost as hot as the thirst in my throat. Actually, I found that it was getting slightly easier to breathe; the agony was becoming a tiny bit more bearable through familiarity. “I think I can keep up,” I insisted. Perhaps common courtesy would compel her to answer my questions as long as I was impolite enough to ask them. She stared down silently at her hands. This made me impatient. I wanted to put my hand under her chin and tilt her head up so that I could read her eyes. But of course I could never touch her skin again. She looked up suddenly. It was a relief to be able to see the emotions in her eyes. She spoke in a rush, hurrying through the words. “My mother got remarried.” Ah, this was human enough, easy to understand. Sorrow flitted across her face, bringing the small pucker back between her brows. “That doesn’t sound so complex,” I said, my voice gentle without my working to make it that way. Her dejection left me oddly helpless, wishing there was something I could do to make her feel better. A strange impulse. “When did that happen?” “Last September.” She exhaled heavily—not quite a sigh. I froze for a moment as her warm breath brushed my face. “And you don’t like him,” I guessed after that short pause, still fishing for more information. “No, Phil is fine,” she said, correcting my assumption. There was a hint of a smile now around the corners of her full lips. “Too young, maybe, but nice enough.” This didn’t fit with the scenario I’d been constructing in my head. “Why didn’t you stay with them?” My voice was too eager; it sounded like I was being nosy. Which I was, admittedly. “Phil travels a lot. He plays ball for a living.” The little smile grew more pronounced; this career choice amused her. I smiled, too, without choosing the expression. I wasn’t trying to make her feel at ease. Her smile just made me want to smile in response—to be in on the secret. “Have I heard of him?” I ran through the rosters of professional ballplayers in my head, wondering which Phil was hers. “Probably not. He doesn’t play well.” Another smile. “Strictly minor league. He moves around a lot.” The rosters in my head shifted instantly, and I’d tabulated a list of possibilities in less than a second. At the same time, I was imagining the new scenario. “And your mother sent you here so that she could travel with him,” I said. Making assumptions seemed to get more information out of her than questions did. It worked again. Her chin jutted out, and her expression was suddenly stubborn. “No, she did not send me here,” she said, and her voice had a new, hard edge to it. My assumption had upset her, though I couldn’t quite see how. “I sent myself.” I could not guess at her meaning, or the source behind her pique. I was entirely lost. There was just no making sense of the girl. She wasn’t like other humans. Maybe the silence of her thoughts and the perfume of her scent were not the only unusual things about her. “I don’t understand,” I admitted, hating to concede. She sighed and stared into my eyes for longer than most normal humans were able to stand. “She stayed with me at first, but she missed him,” Bella explained slowly, her tone growing more forlorn with each word. “It made her unhappy… so I decided it was time to spend some quality time with Charlie.” The tiny pucker between her eyes deepened. “But now you’re unhappy,” I murmured. I kept speaking my hypotheses aloud, hoping to learn from her refutations. This one, however, did not seem as far off the mark. “And?” she said, as if this was not even an aspect to be considered. I continued to stare into her eyes, feeling that I’d finally gotten my first real glimpse into her soul. I saw in that one word where she ranked herself among her own priorities. Unlike most humans, her own needs were far down the list. She was selfless. As I saw this, the mystery of the person hiding inside this quiet mind began to clear a little. “That doesn’t seem fair,” I said. I shrugged, trying to seem casual. She laughed, but there was no amusement in the sound. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you? Life isn’t fair.” I wanted to laugh at her words, though I, too, felt no real amusement. I knew a little something about the unfairness of life. “I believe I have heard that somewhere before.” She stared back at me, seeming confused again. Her eyes flickered away, and then came back to mine. “So that’s all,” she told me. I was not ready to let this conversation end. The little v between her eyes, a remnant of her sorrow, bothered me. “You put on a good show.” I spoke slowly, still considering this next hypothesis. “But I’d be willing to bet that you’re suffering more than you let anyone see.” She made a face, her eyes narrowing and her mouth twisting into a lopsided frown, and she looked back toward the front of the class. She didn’t like it when I guessed right. She wasn’t the average martyr—she didn’t want an audience for her pain. “Am I wrong?” She flinched slightly, but otherwise pretended not to hear me. That made me smile. “I didn’t think so.” “Why does it matter to you?” she demanded, still staring away. “That’s a very good question,” I admitted, more to myself than to her. Her discernment was better than mine—she saw right to the core of things while I floundered around the edges, sifting blindly through clues. The details of her very human life should not matter to me. It was wrong for me to care what she thought. Beyond protecting my family from suspicion, human thoughts were not significant. I was not used to being the less intuitive of any pairing. I relied on my extra hearing too much—I clearly was not as perceptive as I gave myself credit for. The girl sighed and glowered toward the front of the classroom. Something about her frustrated expression was humorous. The whole situation, the whole conversation, was humorous. No one had ever been in more danger from me than this small human girl—at any moment I might, distracted by my ridiculous absorption in the conversation, inhale through my nose and attack her before I could stop myself—and she was irritated because I hadn’t answered her question. “Am I annoying you?” I asked, smiling at the absurdity of it all. She glanced at me quickly, and then her eyes seemed to get trapped by my gaze. “Not exactly,” she told me. “I’m more annoyed at myself. My face is so easy to read—my mother always calls me her open book.” She frowned, disgruntled. I stared at her in amazement. She was upset because she thought I saw through her too easily. How bizarre. I’d never expended so much effort to understand someone in all my life—or rather existence, as life was hardly the right word. I did not truly have a life. “On the contrary,” I disagreed, feeling strangely… wary, as if there were some hidden danger here that I was failing to see. Beyond the very obvious danger, something more… I was suddenly on edge, the premonition making me anxious. “I find you very difficult to read.” “You must be a good reader, then,” she guessed, making her own assumption, which was, again, right on target. “Usually,” I agreed. I smiled at her widely then, letting my lips pull back to expose the rows of gleaming, steel-strong teeth behind them. It was a stupid thing to do, but I was abruptly, unexpectedly desperate to get some kind of warning through to the girl. Her body was closer to me than before, having shifted unconsciously in the course of our conversation. All the little markers and signs that were sufficient to scare off the rest of humanity did not seem to be working on her. Why did she not cringe away from me in terror? Surely she had seen enough of my darker side to realize the danger. I didn’t get to see if my warning had the intended effect. Mr. Banner called for the class’s attention just then, and she turned away from me at once. She seemed a little relieved for the interruption, so maybe she understood unconsciously. I hoped she did. I recognized the fascination growing inside me, even as I tried to root it out. I could not afford to find Bella Swan interesting. Or rather, she could not afford that. Already, I was anxious for another chance to talk to her. I wanted to know more about her mother, her life before she came here, her relationship with her father. All the meaningless details that would flesh out her character further. But every second I spent with her was a mistake, a risk she shouldn’t have to take. Absentmindedly, she tossed her thick hair just at the moment that I allowed myself another breath. A particularly concentrated wave of her scent hit the back of my throat. It was like the first day—like the grenade. The pain of the burning dryness made me dizzy. I had to grasp the table again to keep myself in my seat. This time I had slightly more control. I didn’t break anything, at least. The monster growled inside me but took no pleasure in my pain. He was too tightly bound. For the moment. I stopped breathing altogether and leaned as far from the girl as I could. No, I could not afford to find her fascinating. The more interesting I found her, the more likely it was that I would kill her. I’d already made two minor slips today. Would I make a third, one that was not minor? As soon as the bell sounded, I fled from the classroom—probably destroying whatever impression of politeness I’d halfway constructed in the course of the hour. Again, I gasped at the clean, wet air outside as though it was a healing attar. I hurried to put as much distance as possible between myself and the girl. Emmett waited for me outside the door of our Spanish class. He read my wild expression for a moment. How did it go? he wondered warily. “Nobody died,” I mumbled. I guess that’s something. When I saw Alice ditching there at the end, I thought… As we walked into the classroom, I saw his memory from just a few moments earlier, seen through the open door of his last class: Alice walking briskly and blank-faced across the grounds toward the science building. I felt his remembered urge to get up and join her, and then his decision to stay. If Alice needed his help, she would ask. I closed my eyes in horror and disgust as I slumped into my seat. “I hadn’t realized it was that close. I didn’t think I was going to… I didn’t see that it was that bad,” I whispered. It wasn’t, he reassured me. Nobody died, right? “Right,” I said through my teeth. “Not this time.” Maybe it will get easier. “Sure.” Or maybe you kill her. He shrugged. You wouldn’t be the first one to mess up. No one would judge you too harshly. Sometimes a person just smells too good. I’m impressed you’ve lasted this long. “Not helping, Emmett.” I was revolted by his acceptance of the idea that I would kill the girl, that this was somehow inevitable. Was it her fault that she smelled so good? I know when it happened to me…, he reminisced, taking me back with him half a century, to a country lane at dusk, where a middle-aged woman was pulling her dried sheets down from a line strung between apple trees. I’d seen this before, the strongest of his two encounters, but the memory seemed particularly vivid now—perhaps because my throat still ached from the last hour’s scorching. Emmett remembered the smell of apples hanging heavy in the air—the harvest was over and the rejected fruits were scattered on the ground, the bruises in their skin leaking their fragrance out in thick clouds. A freshly mowed field of hay was a background to that scent, a harmony. He walked up the lane, all but oblivious to the woman, on an errand for Rosalie. The sky was purple overhead, orange over the mountains to the west. He would have continued up the meandering cart path and there would have been no reason to remember the evening, except that a sudden night breeze blew the white sheets out like sails and fanned the woman’s scent across Emmett’s face. “Ah,” I groaned quietly. As if my own remembered thirst was not enough. I know. I didn’t last half a second. I didn’t even think about resisting. His memory became far too explicit for me to stand. I jumped to my feet, my teeth locked hard. “Est?s bien, Edward?” Mrs. Goff asked, startled by my sudden movement. I could see my face in her mind, and I knew that I looked far from well. “Perd?name,” I muttered as I darted for the door. “Emmett, por favor, puedes ayudar a tu hermano?” she asked, gesturing helplessly toward me as I rushed out of the room. “Sure,” I heard him say. And then he was right behind me. He followed me to the far side of the building, where he caught up to me and put his hand on my shoulder. I shoved his hand away with unnecessary force. It would have shattered the bones in a human hand, and the bones in the arm attached to it. “Sorry, Edward.” “I know.” I drew in deep gasps of air, trying to clear my head and lungs. “Is it as bad as that?” he asked, trying not to think of the scent and the flavor of his memory as he asked, and not quite succeeding. “Worse, Emmett, worse.” He was quiet for a moment. Maybe… “No, it would not be better if I got it over with. Go back to class, Emmett. I want to be alone.” He turned without another word or thought and walked quickly away. He would tell the Spanish teacher that I was sick, or ditching, or a dangerously out of control vampire. Did his excuse really matter? Maybe I wasn’t coming back. Maybe I had to leave. I returned to my car to wait for school to end. To hide. Again. I should have spent the time making decisions or trying to bolster my resolve, but, like an addict, I found myself searching through the babble of thoughts emanating from the school buildings. The familiar voices stood out, but I wasn’t interested in listening to Alice’s visions or Rosalie’s complaints right now. I found Jessica easily, but the girl was not with her, so I continued searching. Mike Newton’s thoughts caught my attention, and I located her at last, in Gym with him. He was unhappy because I’d spoken to her today in Biology. He was running over her response when he’d brought the subject up. I’ve never seen him actually say more than a word here or there to anyone. Of course he would decide to talk to Bella. I don’t like the way he looks at her. But she didn’t seem too excited about him. What did she say to me earlier? “Wonder what was with him last Monday.” Something like that. Didn’t sound like she cared. It couldn’t have been much of a conversation.… He cheered himself with the idea that Bella had not been interested in her exchange with me. This annoyed me quite a bit, so I stopped listening to him. I put in a CD of violent music, and then turned it up until it drowned out other voices. I had to concentrate on the music very hard to keep myself from drifting back to Mike Newton’s thoughts to spy on the unsuspecting girl. I cheated a few times as the hour drew to a close. Not spying, I tried to convince myself. I was just preparing. I wanted to know exactly when she would leave the gym, when she would be in the parking lot. I didn’t want her to take me by surprise. As the students started to file out the gym doors, I got out of my car, not sure why I did it. The rain was light—I ignored it as it slowly saturated my hair. Did I want her to see me here? Did I hope she would come to speak to me? What was I doing? I didn’t move, though I tried to convince myself to get back in the car, knowing my behavior was reprehensible. I kept my arms folded across my chest and breathed very shallowly as I watched her walk slowly toward me, her mouth turning down at the corners. She didn’t look at me. A few times she glanced up at the clouds with a scowl, as if they had offended her. I was disappointed when she reached her car before she had to pass me. Would she have spoken to me? Would I have spoken to her? She got into a faded red Chevy truck, a rusted behemoth that was older than her father. I watched her start the truck—the old engine roared louder than any other vehicle in the lot—and then hold her hands out toward the heating vents. The cold was uncomfortable to her—she didn’t like it. She combed her fingers through her thick hair, pulling locks through the stream of hot air as though she was trying to dry them. I imagined what the cab of that truck would smell like, and then quickly drove out the thought. She glanced around as she prepared to back out, and finally looked in my direction. She stared back at me for only half a second, and all I could read in her eyes was surprise before she tore them away and jerked the truck into reverse. And then squealed to a stop again, the back end of the truck missing a collision with Nicole Casey’s compact by mere inches. She stared into her rearview mirror, her mouth hanging open, horrified at her near miss. When the other car had pulled past her, she checked all her blind spots twice and then inched out of the parking space so cautiously that it made me grin. It was as though she thought she was dangerous in her decrepit truck. The thought of Bella Swan being dangerous to anyone, no matter what she was driving, had me laughing while the girl drove past me, staring straight ahead. 3. RISK TRULY, I WAS NOT THIRSTY, BUT I DECIDED TO HUNT AGAIN THAT NIGHT. A small ounce of prevention, inadequate though I knew it to be. Carlisle came with me. We hadnt been alone together since Id returned from Denali. As we ran through the black forest, I heard him thinking about that hasty goodbye last week. In his memory, I saw the way my features had been twisted in fierce despair. I felt again his surprise and sudden worry. Edward? I have to go, Carlisle. I have to go now. Whats happened? Nothing. Yet. But it will if I stay. Hed reached for my arm. Id seen how it had hurt him when Id cringed away from his hand. I dont understand. Have you ever has there ever been a time? I watched myself take a deep breath, saw the wild light in my eyes through the filter of his deep concern. Has any one person ever smelled better to you than the rest of them? Much better? Oh. When Id known that he understood, my face had fallen with shame. Hed reached out to touch me, ignoring it when Id recoiled again, and left his hand on my shoulder. Do what you must to resist, Son. I will miss you. Here, take my car. The tank is full. He was wondering now if hed done the right thing then, sending me away. Wondering if he had hurt me with his lack of trust. No, I whispered as I ran. That was what I needed. I might so easily have betrayed that trust if youd told me to stay. Im sorry youre suffering, Edward. But you should do what you can to keep the Swan child alive. Even if it means that you must leave us again. I know, I know. Why did you come back? You know how happy I am to have you here, but if this is too difficult I didnt like feeling a coward, I admitted. Wed slowedwe were barely jogging through the darkness now. Better that than to put her in danger. Shell be gone in a year or two. Youre right, I know that. Contrarily, his words only made me more anxious to stay. The girl would be gone in a year or two. Carlisle stopped running and I stopped with him. He turned to examine my expression. But youre not going to run, are you? I hung my head. Is it pride, Edward? Theres no shame in No, it isnt pride that keeps me here. Not now. Nowhere to go? I laughed shortly. No. That wouldnt stop me if I could make myself leave. Well come with you, of course, if thats what you need. You only have to ask. Youve moved on without complaint for the rest of them. They wont begrudge you this. I raised one eyebrow. He laughed. Yes, Rosalie might, but she owes you. Anyway, its much better for us to leave now, no damage done, than for us to leave later, after a life has been ended. All humor was gone by the end. I flinched at his words. Yes, I agreed. My voice sounded hoarse. But youre not leaving? I sighed. I should. What holds you here, Edward? Im failing to see. I dont know if I can explain. Even to myself, it made no sense. He measured my expression for a long moment. No, I do not see. But I will respect your privacy, if you prefer. Thank you. Its generous of you, seeing as how I give privacy to no one. With one exception. And I was doing what I could to deprive her of that, wasnt I? We all have our quirks. He laughed again. Shall we? Hed just caught the scent of a small herd of deer. It was hard to rally much enthusiasm for what was, even under the best of circumstances, a less than mouthwatering aroma. Right now, with the memory of the girls blood fresh in my mind, the smell actually turned my stomach. I sighed. Lets, I agreed, though I knew that forcing more blood down my throat would help so little. We both shifted into a hunting crouch and let the unappealing scent pull us silently forward. It was colder when we returned home. The melted snow had refrozen; it was as if a thin sheet of glass covered everythingeach pine needle, each fern frond, each blade of grass was iced over. While Carlisle went to dress for his early shift at the hospital, I stayed by the river, waiting for the sun to rise. I felt almost swollen from the amount of blood Id consumed, but I knew the lack of actual thirst would mean little when I sat beside the girl again. Cool and motionless as the stone I sat on, I stared at the dark water running beside the icy bank, stared right through it. Carlisle was right. I should leave Forks. They could spread some story to explain my absence. Boarding school in Europe. Visiting distant relatives. Teenage runaway. The story didnt matter. No one would question too intensely. It was just a year or two, and then the girl would disappear. She would go on with her lifeshe would have a life to go on with. Shed go to college somewhere, start a career, perhaps marry someone. I could picture thatI could see the girl dressed all in white and walking at a measured pace, her arm through her fathers. It was odd, the pain that image caused me. I couldnt understand it. Was I begrudging of her future because it was something I could never have? That made no sense. Every one of the humans around me had that same potential ahead of thema lifeand I rarely stopped to envy them. I should leave her to her future. Stop risking her life. That was the right thing to do. Carlisle always chose the right way. I should listen to him now. I would. The sun rose behind the clouds, and the faint light glistened off all the frozen glass. One more day, I decided. I would see her one more time. I could handle that. Perhaps I would mention my pending disappearance, set the story up. This was going to be difficult. I could feel that in the heavy reluctance that was already making me think of excuses to stayto extend the deadline to two days, three, four. But I would do the right thing. I knew I could trust Carlisles advice. And I also knew that I was too conflicted to make the right decision alone. Much too conflicted. How much of this reluctance came from my obsessive curiosity, and how much came from my unsatisfied appetite? I went inside to change into fresh clothes for school. Alice was waiting for me, sitting on the top step at the edge of the third floor. Youre leaving again, she accused me. I sighed and nodded. I cant see where youre going this time. I dont know where Im going yet, I whispered. I want you to stay. I shook my head. Maybe Jazz and I could come with you? Theyll need you all the more if Im not here to watch out for them. And think of Esme. Would you take half her family away in one blow? Youre going to make her so unhappy. I know. Thats why you have to stay. Thats not the same as having you here, and you know it. Yes. But I have to do whats right. There are many right ways, and many wrong ways, though, arent there? For a brief moment, she was swept away into one of her strange visions; I watched along with her as the indistinct images flickered and whirled. I saw myself mixed in with strange shadows that I couldnt make outhazy, imprecise forms. And then, suddenly, my skin was glittering in the bright sunlight of a small open meadow. This was a place I knew. There was a figure in the meadow with me, but again, it was indistinct, not there enough to recognize. The images shivered and disappeared as a million tiny choices rearranged the future again. I didnt catch much of that, I told her when the vision went dark. Me either. Your future is shifting around so much I cant keep up with any of it. I think, though She stopped, and she flipped through a vast collection of other recent visions for me. They were all the sameblurry and vague. I think something is changing, she said out loud. Your life seems to be at a crossroads. I laughed grimly. You do realize that you sound like a carnival fortuneteller, right? She stuck out her tiny tongue at me. Today is all right, though, isnt it? I asked, my voice abruptly apprehensive. I dont see you killing anyone today, she assured me. Thanks, Alice. Go get dressed. I wont say anythingIll let you tell the others when youre ready. She stood and darted back down the stairs, her shoulders hunched slightly. Miss you. Really. Yes, I would really miss her, too. It was a quiet ride to school. Jasper could feel that Alice was upset about something, but he knew that if she wanted to talk about it, she would have done so already. Emmett and Rosalie were oblivious, having another of their moments, gazing into each others eyes with wonderit was rather disgusting to watch from the outside. We were all quite aware how desperately in love they were. Or maybe I was just being bitter because I was the only one alone. Some days it was harder than others to live with three sets of perfectly matched lovers. This was one of them. Maybe they would all be happier without me hanging around, illtempered and belligerent as the old man I should be by now. Of course, the first thing I did when we reached the school was to look for the girl. Just preparing myself again. Right. It was embarrassing how my world suddenly seemed to be empty of everything but her. It was easy enough to understand, though, really. After eighty years of the same thing every day and every night, any change became a point of absorption. She had not yet arrived, but I could hear the thunderous chugging of her trucks engine in the distance. I leaned against the side of the car to wait. Alice stayed with me while the others went straight to class. They were already bored with my fixationit was incomprehensible to them how any human could hold my interest for so long, no matter how appealing she smelled. The girl drove slowly into view, her eyes intent on the road and her hands tight on the wheel. She seemed anxious about something. It took me a second to figure out what that something was, to realize that every human wore the same expression today. Ah, the road was slick with ice, and they were all trying to drive more carefully. I could see she was taking the added risk seriously. That seemed in line with what little I had learned of her character. I added this to my small list: She was a serious person, a responsible person. She parked not too far from me, but she hadnt noticed me standing here yet, staring at her. I wondered what she would do when she saw me? Blush and walk away? That was my first guess. But maybe she would stare back. Maybe she would come to talk to me. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs hopefully, just in case. She got out of the truck with care, testing the slick ground before she put her weight on it. She didnt look up, and that frustrated me. Maybe I would go talk to her. No, that would be wrong. Instead of turning toward the school, she made her way to the rear of her truck, clinging to the side of the truck bed in a droll way, not trusting her footing. It made me smile, and I felt Alices eyes on my face. I didnt listen to whatever this made her thinkI was having too much fun watching the girl check her snow chains. She actually looked in some danger of falling, the way her feet were sliding around. No one else was having troublehad she parked in the worst of the ice? She paused there, staring down with a strange expression on her face. It was tender. As if something about the tire was making her emotional? Again, the curiosity ached like a thirst. It was as if I had to know what she was thinkingas if nothing else mattered. I would go talk to her. She looked like she could use a hand anyway, at least until she was off the slick pavement. Of course, I couldnt offer her that, could I? I hesitated, torn. As averse as she seemed to be to snow, she would hardly welcome the touch of my cold white hand. I should have worn gloves NO! Alice gasped aloud. Instantly, I scanned her thoughts, guessing at first that I had made a poor choice and she saw me doing something inexcusable. But it had nothing to do with me at all. Tyler Crowley had chosen to take the turn into the parking lot at an injudicious speed. This choice would send him skidding across a patch of ice. The vision came just half a second before the reality. Tylers van rounded the corner as I was still watching what had pulled the horrified gasp from Alices lips. No, this vision had nothing to do with me, and yet it had everything to do with me, because Tylers vanthe tires right now hitting the ice at the worst possible anglewas going to spin across the lot and crush the girl who had become the uninvited focal point of my world. Even without Alices foresight it would have been simple enough to read the trajectory of the vehicle, flying out of Tylers control. The girl, standing in the exactly wrong place at the back of her truck, looked up, confused by the sound of the screeching tires. She looked straight into my horror-struck eyes, and then turned to watch her approaching death. Not her! The words shouted in my head as if they belonged to someone else. Still locked into Alices thoughts, I saw the vision suddenly shift, but I had no time to see what the outcome would be. I launched myself across the lot, throwing myself between the skidding van and the frozen girl. I moved so fast that everything was a streaky blur except for the object of my focus. She didnt see meno human eyes could have followed my flightstill staring at the hulking shape that was about to grind her body into the metal frame of her truck. I caught her around the waist, moving with too much urgency to be as gentle as she would need me to be. In the hundredth of a second between yanking her slight form out of the path of death and crashing to the ground with her in my arms, I was vividly aware of her fragile, breakable body. When I heard her head thump against the ice, it felt as though I had turned to ice, too. But I didnt even have a full second to ascertain her condition. I heard the van behind us, grating and squealing as it twisted around the sturdy iron body of the girls truck. It was changing course, arcing, coming for her againas though she were a magnet, pulling it toward us. A word Id never said before in the presence of a lady slid between my clenched teeth. I had already done too much. As Id nearly flown through the air to push her out of the way, Id been fully aware of the mistake I was making. Knowing that it was a mistake did not stop me, but I was not oblivious to the risk I was takingnot just for myself, but for my entire family. Exposure. And this certainly wouldnt help, but there was no way I was going to allow the van to succeed in its second attempt to take her life. I dropped her and threw my hands out, catching the van before it could touch the girl. The force of it hurled me back into the car parked beside her truck, and I could feel its frame buckle behind my shoulders. The van shuddered and shivered against the unyielding obstacle of my arms, and then swayed, balancing unstably on its two far tires. If I moved my hands, the back tire of the van was going to fall onto her legs. Oh, for the love of all that was holy, would the catastrophes never end? Was there anything else that could go wrong? I could hardly sit here, holding the van up, and wait for rescue. Nor could I throw the van awaythere was the driver to consider, his thoughts incoherent with panic. With an internal groan, I shoved the van so that it rocked away from us for an instant. As it fell back toward me, I caught it under the frame with my right hand while I wrapped my left arm around the girls waist again and dragged her out from under the threatening tire, pulling her tight against my side. Her body moved limply as I swung her around so that her legs would be in the clearwas she conscious? How much damage had I done to her in my impromptu rescue attempt? I let the van drop, now that it could not hurt her. It crashed to the pavement, all the windows shattering in unison. I knew that I was in the middle of a crisis. How much had she seen? Had any other witnesses watched me materialize at her side and then juggle the van while I tried to keep her out from under it? These questions should be my biggest concern. But I was too anxious to really care about the threat of exposure as much as I should. Too panic-stricken that I might have injured her in my effort to save her life. Too frightened to have her this close to me, knowing what I would smell if I allowed myself to inhale. Too aware of the heat of her soft body, pressed against mineeven through the double obstacle of our jackets, I could feel that heat. The first fear was the greatest fear. As the screaming of the witnesses erupted around us, I leaned down to examine her face, to see if she was conscioushoping fiercely that she was not bleeding anywhere. Her eyes were open, staring in shock. Bella? I asked urgently. Are you all right? Im fine. She said the words automatically in a dazed voice. Relief, so exquisite it was nearly pain, washed through me at the sound of her voice. I sucked in a breath through my teeth and for once did not mind the agony of the accompanying burn in my throat. In a strange way, I almost welcomed it. She struggled to sit up, but I was not ready to release her. It felt somehow safer? Better, at least, having her tucked into my side. Be careful, I warned her. I think you hit your head pretty hard. There had been no smell of fresh blooda great mercy, thatbut this did not rule out internal damage. I was abruptly anxious to get her to Carlisle and a full complement of radiology equipment. Ow, she said, her tone comically shocked as she realized I was right about her head. Thats what I thought. Relief made it funny to me, made me almost giddy. How in the? Her voice trailed off, and her eyelids fluttered. How did you get over here so fast? The relief turned sour, the humor vanished. She had noticed too much. Now that it appeared the girl was in decent shape, the anxiety for my family became severe. I was standing right next to you, Bella. I knew from experience that if I was very confident as I lied, it made any questioner less sure of the truth. She struggled to move again, and this time I allowed it. I needed to breathe so that I could play my role correctly. I needed space from her warm-blooded heat so that it would not combine with her scent to overwhelm me. I slid away from her, as far as was possible in the small space between the wrecked vehicles. She stared up at me, and I stared back. To look away first was a mistake only an incompetent liar would make, and I was not an incompetent liar. My expression was smooth, benign. It seemed to confuse her. That was good. The accident scene was surrounded now. Mostly students, children, peering and pushing through the cracks to see if any mangled bodies were visible. There was a babble of shouting and a gush of shocked thought. I scanned the thoughts once to make sure there were no suspicions yet, and then tuned them out and concentrated only on the girl. She was distracted by the bedlam. She glanced around, her expression still stunned, and tried to get to her feet. I put my hand lightly on her shoulder to hold her down. Just stay put for now. She seemed all right, but should she really be moving her neck? Again, I wished for Carlisle. My years of theoretical medical study were no match for his centuries of hands-on medical practice. But its cold, she objected. She had almost been crushed to death two distinct times, and it was the cold that worried her. A chuckle slid through my teeth before I could remember that the situation was not funny. Bella blinked, and then her eyes focused on my face. You were over there. That sobered me again. She glanced toward the south, though there was nothing to see now but the crumpled side of the van. You were by your car. No, I wasnt. I saw you, she insisted. Her voice was childlike in her stubbornness. Her chin jutted out. Bella, I was standing with you, and I pulled you out of the way. I stared deeply into her eyes, trying to will her into accepting my versionthe only rational version on the table. Her jaw set. No. I tried to stay calm, to not panic. If only I could keep her quiet for a few moments to give me a chance to destroy the evidence and undermine her story by disclosing her head injury. Shouldnt it be easy to keep this silent, secretive girl quiet? If only she would follow my lead, just for a few moments Please, Bella, I said, and my voice was too intense, because I suddenly wanted her trust. Wanted it badly, and not just in regard to this accident. A stupid desire. What sense would it make for her to trust me? Why? she asked, still defensive. Trust me, I pleaded. Will you promise to explain everything to me later? It made me angry to have to lie to her again, when I so wished that I could somehow deserve her confidence. When I answered her, it was a retort. Fine. Fine, she echoed in the same tone. While the rescue attempt began around usadults arriving, authorities called, sirens in the distanceI tried to ignore the girl and get my priorities in the right order. I searched through every mind in the lot, the witnesses and the latecomers both, but I could find nothing dangerous. Many were surprised to see me here beside Bella, but all assumedas there was no other possible conclusionthat they had just not noticed me standing by the girl before the accident. She was the only one who didnt accept the easy explanation, but she would be considered the least reliable witness. She had been frightened, traumatized, not to mention sustaining a blow to her head. Possibly in shock. It would be acceptable for her story to be confused, wouldnt it? No one would give it much credence above so many other spectators. I winced when I caught the thoughts of Rosalie, Jasper, and Emmett, just arriving on the scene. There would be hell to pay for this tonight. I wanted to iron out the indentation my shoulders had made in the tan car, but the girl was too close. Id have to wait until she was distracted. It was frustrating to waitso many eyes on meas the humans struggled with the van, trying to pull it away from us. I might have helped them, just to speed the process, but I was already in enough trouble and the girl had sharp eyes. Finally, they were able to shift it far enough away for the EMTs to get to us with their stretchers. A familiar grizzled face appraised me. Hey, Edward, Brett Warner said. He was also a registered nurse, and I knew him well from the hospital. It was a stroke of luckthe only luck todaythat he was the first through to us. In his thoughts, he was noting that I looked alert and calm. You okay, kid? Perfect, Brett. Nothing touched me. But Im afraid Bella here might have a concussion. She really hit her head when I yanked her out of the way. Brett turned his attention to the girl, who shot me a fierce look of betrayal. Oh, that was right. She was the quiet martyrshed prefer to suffer in silence. She did not contradict my story immediately, though, and this made me feel easier. The next EMT tried to insist that I allow myself to be treated, but it wasnt too difficult to dissuade him. I promised I would have my father examine me, and he let it go. With most humans, speaking with cool assurance was all that was needed. Most humans, just not the girl, of course. Did she fit into any of the normal patterns? As they put a neck brace on herand her face flushed scarlet with embarrassmentI used the moment of distraction to quietly rearrange the shape of the dent in the tan car with the back of my foot. Only my siblings noticed what I was doing, and I heard Emmetts mental promise to catch anything I missed. Grateful for his helpand more grateful that Emmett, at least, had already forgiven my dangerous choiceI was more relaxed as I climbed into the front seat of the ambulance next to Brett. The chief of police arrived before they had gotten Bella into the back of the ambulance. Though Bellas fathers thoughts were past words, the panic and concern emanating from the mans mind drowned out just about every other thought in the vicinity. Wordless anxiety and guilt, a great swell of them, washed out of him as he saw his only daughter on the gurney. When Alice had warned me that killing Charlie Swans daughter would kill him, too, she had not been exaggerating. My head bowed with that guilt as I listened to his panicked voice. Bella! he shouted. Im completely fine, CharDad. She sighed. Theres nothing wrong with me. Her assurance barely soothed his dread. He turned at once to the closest EMT and demanded more information. It wasnt until I heard him speaking, forming perfectly coherent sentences despite his panic, that I realized that his anxiety and concern were not wordless. I just could not hear the exact words. Hmm. Charlie Swan was not as silent as his daughter, but I could see where she got it from. Interesting. Id never spent much time around the towns police chief. Id always taken him for a man of slow thoughtnow I realized that I was the one who was slow. His thoughts were partially concealed, not absent. I could only make out the tenor, the tone of them. I wanted to listen harder, to see if I could find in this new, lesser puzzle the key to the girls secrets. But Bella had been loaded into the back by then, and the ambulance was on its way. It was hard to tear myself away from this possible solution to the mystery that had come to obsess me. But I had to think nowto look at what had been done today from every angle. I had to listen, to make sure that I had not put us all in so much danger that we would have to leave immediately. I had to concentrate. There was nothing in the thoughts of the EMTs to worry me. As far as they could tell, there wasnt anything seriously wrong with the girl. And Bella was sticking to the story Id provided, for now. The first priority, when we reached the hospital, was to see Carlisle. I hurried through the automatic doors, but I was unable to totally forgo watching after Bella. I figuratively kept one eye on her through the paramedics thoughts. It was easy to find my fathers familiar mind. He was in his small office, all alonethe second stroke of luck in this luckless day. Carlisle. Hed heard my approach and was alarmed as soon as he saw my face. He jumped to his feet and leaned forward across the neatly organized walnut desk. Edwardyou didnt? No, no, its not that. He took a deep breath. Of course not. Im sorry I entertained the thought. Your eyes, of course, I should have known. He noted my still-golden eyes with relief. Shes hurt, though, Carlisle, probably not seriously, but What happened? A ridiculous car accident. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. But I couldnt just stand therelet it crush her. Start over, I dont understand. How were you involved? A van skidded across the ice, I whispered. I stared at the wall behind him while I spoke. Instead of a throng of framed diplomas, he had one simple oil paintinga favorite of his, an undiscovered Hassam. She was in the way. Alice saw it coming, but there wasnt time to do anything but really run across the lot and shove her out of the way. No one noticed except for her. I had to stop the van, too, but again, nobody saw that besides her. Im Im sorry, Carlisle. I didnt mean to put us in danger. He circled the desk and embraced me for a short moment before stepping back. You did the right thing. And it couldnt have been easy for you. Im proud of you, Edward. I could look him in the eye then. She knows theres something wrong with me. That doesnt matter. If we have to leave, we leave. What has she said? I shook my head, a little frustrated. Nothing yet. Yet? She agreed to my version of eventsbut shes expecting an explanation. He frowned, pondering this. She hit her headwell, I did that, I continued quickly. I knocked her to the ground fairly hard. She seems fine, but I dont think it will take much to discredit her account. I felt like a cad just saying the words. Carlisle heard the distaste in my voice. Perhaps that wont be necessary. Lets see what happens, shall we? It sounds like I have a patient to check on. Please, I said. Im so afraid that I hurt her. Carlisles expression brightened. He smoothed his fair hairjust a few shades lighter than his golden eyesand laughed. Its been an interesting day for you, hasnt it? In his mind, I could see the irony, and it was humorous, at least to him. Quite the reversal of roles. Somewhere during that short, thoughtless second when Id sprinted across the icy lot, I had transformed from killer to protector. I laughed with him, remembering how sure Id been that Bella would never need protecting from anything more than from me. There was an edge to my laugh because, van notwithstanding, that was still entirely true. I waited alone in Carlisles officeone of the longest hours I had ever livedlistening to the hospital full of thoughts. Tyler Crowley, the vans driver, looked to be hurt worse than Bella, and the attention shifted to him while she waited her turn to be x-rayed. Carlisle kept in the background, trusting the PAs diagnosis that the girl was only slightly injured. This made me anxious, but I knew he was right. One glance at his face and she would be immediately reminded of me, of the fact that there was something not right about my family, and that might set her talking. She certainly had a willing enough partner to converse with. Tyler, consumed with guilt over the fact that he had almost killed her, couldnt seem to shut up about it. I could see her expression through his eyes, and it was clear that she wished he would stop. How did he not see that? There was a tense moment for me when Tyler asked her how shed gotten out of the way. I waited, frozen, as she hesitated. Um, he heard her say. Then she paused for so long that Tyler wondered if his question had confused her. Finally, she went on. Edward pulled me out of the way. I exhaled. And then my breathing accelerated. Id never heard her speak my name before. I liked the way it soundedeven just hearing it through Tylers thoughts. I wanted to hear it for myself. Edward Cullen, she said, when Tyler didnt realize whom she meant. I found myself at the door, my hand on the knob. The desire to see her was growing stronger. I had to remind myself of the need for caution. He was standing next to me. Cullen? Huh. Thats weird. I didnt see him. I could have sworn Wow, it was all so fast, I guess. Is he okay? I think so. Hes here somewhere, but they didnt make him use a stretcher. I saw the thoughtful look on her face, the suspicious tightening of her eyes, but these little changes in her expression were lost on Tyler. Shes pretty, he was thinking, almost in surprise. Even all messed up. Not my usual type. Still I should take her out. Make up for today. I was out in the hall then, halfway to the emergency room, without thinking for one second about what I was doing. Luckily, the nurse entered the room before I couldit was Bellas turn for X-rays. I leaned against the wall in a dark nook just around the corner and tried to get a grip on myself while she was wheeled away. It didnt matter that Tyler thought she was pretty. Anyone would notice that. There was no reason for me to feel how did I feel? Annoyed? Or was angry closer to the truth? That made no sense at all. I stayed where I was for as long as I could, but impatience got the best of me and I took a roundabout way to the radiology room. Shed already been moved back to the ER, but I was able to peek at her X-rays while the nurses attention was elsewhere. I felt calmer when I had. Her head was fine. I hadnt hurt her, not really. Carlisle caught me there. You look better, he commented. I just looked straight ahead. We werent alone, the halls full of orderlies and visitors. Ah, yes. He stuck her X-rays to the lightboard, but I didnt need a second look. I see. Shes absolutely fine. Well done, Edward. The sound of my fathers approval created a mixed reaction in me. I would have been pleased, except that I knew he would not approve of what I was going to do now. At least, he would not approve if he knew my real motivations. I think Im going to go talk to herbefore she sees you, I murmured under my breath. Act natural, like nothing happened. Smooth it over. All acceptable reasons. Carlisle nodded absently, still looking over the X-rays. Good idea. Hmm. I looked to see what had his interest. Look at all the healed contusions! How many times did her mother drop her? Carlisle laughed to himself at his joke. Im beginning to think the girl just has really bad luck. Always in the wrong place at the wrong time. Forks is certainly the wrong place for her, with you here. I flinched. Go ahead. Smooth things over. Ill join you momentarily. I walked away quickly, feeling guilty. Perhaps I was too good a liar if I could fool Carlisle. When I got to the ER, Tyler was mumbling under his breath, still apologizing. The girl was trying to escape his remorse by pretending to sleep. Her eyes were closed, but her breathing was not even, and now and then her fingers would twitch impatiently. I stared at her face for a long moment. This was the last time I would see her. The fact triggered an acute aching in my chest. Was it because I hated to leave any puzzle unsolved? That did not seem enough of an explanation. Finally, I took a deep breath and moved into view. When Tyler saw me, he started to speak, but I put one finger to my lips. Is she sleeping? I murmured. Bellas eyes snapped open and focused on my face. They widened momentarily, and then narrowed in anger or suspicion. I remembered that I had a role to play, so I smiled at her as if nothing unusual had happened this morningbesides a blow to her head and a bit of imagination run wild. Hey, Edward, Tyler said. Im really sorry I raised one hand to halt his apology. No blood, no foul, I said wryly. Without thinking, I smiled too widely at my private joke. Tyler shivered and looked away. It was amazingly easy to ignore Tyler, lying no more than four feet from me, his deeper wounds still oozing blood. Id never understood how Carlisle was able to do thatignore the blood of his patients in order to treat them. Wouldnt the constant temptation be so distracting, so dangerous? But now I could see how, if you were focusing on something else hard enough, the temptation would be nothing at all. Even fresh and exposed, Tylers blood had nothing on Bellas. I kept my distance from her, seating myself on the foot of Tylers mattress. So, whats the verdict? I asked her. Her lower lip pushed out a little. Theres nothing wrong with me at all, but they wont let me go. How come you arent strapped to a gurney like the rest of us? Her impatience made me smile again. I could hear Carlisle in the hall now. Its all about who you know, I said lightly. But dont worry, I came to spring you. I watched her reaction carefully as my father entered the room. Her eyes went round and her mouth actually fell open in surprise. I groaned internally. Yes, shed certainly noticed the resemblance. So, Miss Swan, how are you feeling? Carlisle asked. He had a wonderfully soothing bedside manner that put most patients at ease within moments. I couldnt tell how it affected Bella. Im fine, she said quietly. Carlisle clipped her X-rays to the lightboard by the bed. Your X-rays look good. Does your head hurt? Edward said you hit it pretty hard. She sighed and said Its fine again, but this time impatience leaked into her voice. She glowered once in my direction. Carlisle stepped closer to her and ran his fingers gently over her scalp until he found the bump under her hair. I was caught off guard by the wave of emotion that crashed upon me. I had seen Carlisle work with humans a thousand times. Years ago, I had even assisted him informallythough only in situations where blood was not involved. So it wasnt a new thing to me, to watch him interact with the girl as if he were as human as she was. Id envied his control many times, but that was not the same as this emotion. I envied him more than his control. I ached for the difference between Carlisle and methat he could touch her so gently, without fear, knowing he would never harm her. She winced, and I twitched in my seat. I had to concentrate for a moment to regain my relaxed posture. Tender? Carlisle asked. Her chin jerked up a fraction. Not really, she said. Another small piece of her character fell into place: She was brave. She didnt like to show weakness. Possibly the most vulnerable creature Id ever seen, and she didnt want to seem weak. A chuckle slid through my lips. She shot another glare at me. Well, Carlisle said, your father is in the waiting roomyou can go home with him now. But come back if you feel dizzy or have trouble with your eyesight at all. Her father was here? I swept through the thoughts in the crowded waiting room, but I couldnt pick his subtle mental voice out of the group before she was speaking again, her face anxious. Cant I go back to school? Maybe you should take it easy today, Carlisle suggested. Her eyes flickered back to me. Does he get to go to school? Act normal, smooth things over ignore the way it feels when she looks me in the eye. Someone has to spread the good news that we survived, I said. Actually, Carlisle corrected, most of the school seems to be in the waiting room. I anticipated her reaction this timeher aversion to attention. She didnt disappoint. Oh no, she moaned, and put her hands over her face. I liked that Id finally guessed right. That I was beginning to understand her. Do you want to stay? Carlisle asked. No, no! she said quickly, swinging her legs over the side of the mattress and sliding down until her feet were on the floor. She stumbled forward, off-balance, into Carlisles arms. He caught and steadied her. Again, the envy flooded through me. Im fine, she said before he could comment, faint pink in her cheeks. Of course, that wouldnt bother Carlisle. He made sure she was balanced, and then dropped his hands. Take some Tylenol for the pain, he instructed. It doesnt hurt that bad. Carlisle smiled as he signed her chart. It sounds like you were extremely lucky. She turned her face slightly, to stare at me with hard eyes. Lucky Edward happened to be standing next to me. Oh, well, yes, Carlisle agreed quickly, hearing the same thing in her voice that I heard. She hadnt written her suspicions off as imagination. Not yet. All yours, Carlisle thought. Handle it as you think best. Thanks so much, I whispered, quick and quiet. Neither human heard me. Carlisles lips turned up a tiny bit at my sarcasm as he turned to Tyler. Im afraid that youll have to stay with us just a little bit longer, he said as he began examining the superficial lacerations left by the shattered windshield. Well, Id made the mess, so it was only fair that I had to deal with it. Bella walked deliberately toward me, not stopping until she was uncomfortably close. I remembered how I had hoped, before all the chaos, that she would approach me. This was like a mockery of that wish. Can I talk to you for a minute? she hissed at me. Her warm breath swept across my face and I had to stagger back a step. Her appeal had not abated one bit. Every time she was near me, it triggered all my worst, most urgent instincts. Venom flowed in my mouth, and my body yearned to striketo wrench her into my arms and crush her throat to my teeth. My mind was stronger than my body, but only just. Your father is waiting for you, I reminded her, my jaw clenched tight. She glanced toward Carlisle and Tyler. Tyler was paying us no attention at all, but Carlisle was monitoring my every breath. Carefully, Edward. Id like to speak to you alone, if you dont mind, she insisted in a low voice. I wanted to tell her that I did mind very much, but I knew I would have to do this eventually. I might as well get on with it. I was full of so many conflicting emotions as I stalked out of the room, listening to her stumbling footsteps behind me, trying to keep up. I had a show to put on now. I knew the role I would playI had the character down: I would be the villain. I would lie and ridicule and be cruel. It went against all my better impulsesthe human impulses that Id clung to through so many years. Id never wanted to deserve trust more than in this moment, when I had to destroy all possibility of it. It made it worse to know that this would be the last memory she would have of me. This was my farewell scene. I turned on her. What do you want? I asked coldly. She cringed back slightly from my hostility. Her eyes turned bewildered, her face shifting into the very expression that had haunted me. You owe me an explanation, she said in a small voice. What little color she had drained from her ivory skin. It was very hard to keep my voice harsh. I saved your lifeI dont owe you anything. She flinchedit stung like acid to watch my words hurt her. You promised, she whispered. Bella, you hit your head, you dont know what youre talking about. Her chin came up then. Theres nothing wrong with my head. She was angry now, and that made it easier for me. I met her glare, arranging my face so it was colder, harder. What do you want from me, Bella? I want to know the truth. I want to know why Im lying for you. What she wanted was only fairit frustrated me to have to deny her. What do you think happened? I nearly growled. Her words poured out in a torrent. All I know is that you werent anywhere near meTyler didnt see you, either, so dont tell me I hit my head too hard. That van was going to crush us bothand it didnt, and your hands left dents in the side of itand you left a dent in the other car, and youre not hurt at alland the van should have smashed my legs, but you were holding it up. Suddenly, she clenched her teeth together and her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. I stared at her, my expression thoroughly derisive, though what I really felt was awe; she had seen everything. You think I lifted a van off you? I asked, elevating the level of sarcasm in my tone. She answered with one stiff nod. My voice grew more mocking. Nobody will believe that, you know. She made an effort to control her emotionsher anger, it looked like. When she answered me, she spoke each word with slow deliberation. Im not going to tell anybody. She meant itI could see that in her eyes. Even furious and betrayed, she would keep my secret. Why? The shock of it ruined my carefully designed expression for half a second, and then I pulled myself together. Then why does it matter? I asked, working to keep my voice severe. It matters to me, she said intensely. I dont like to lieso thered better be a good reason why Im doing it. She was asking me to trust her. Just as I wanted her to trust me. But this was a line I could not cross. My voice stayed callous. Cant you just thank me and get it over with? Thank you, she said, and then she fumed in silence, waiting. Youre not going to let it go, are you? No. In that case I couldnt tell her the truth if I wanted to and I didnt want to. Id rather she made up her own story than know what I was, because nothing could be worse than the truthI was an undead nightmare, straight from the pages of a horror novel. I hope you enjoy disappointment. We scowled at each other. She flushed pink and ground her teeth again. Why did you even bother? Her question wasnt one that I was expecting or prepared to answer. I lost my hold on the role I was playing. I felt the mask slip from my face, and I told herthis one timethe truth. I dont know. I memorized her face one last timeit was still set in lines of anger, the blood not yet faded from her cheeksand then I turned and walked away from her. 4. VISIONS I WENT BACK TO SCHOOL. THIS WAS THE RIGHT THING TO DO, THE MOST inconspicuous way to behave. By the end of the day, almost all the other students had returned to class, too. Just Tyler and Bella and a few others—who were probably using the accident as a chance to ditch—remained absent. It shouldn’t have been so hard for me to do the right thing. But all afternoon, I was gritting my teeth against the urge that had me yearning to ditch, too—in order to go find the girl again. Like a stalker. An obsessed stalker. An obsessed vampire stalker. School today was—somehow, impossibly—even more boring than it had seemed just a week ago. Coma-like. It was as if the color had drained from the bricks, the trees, the sky, the faces around me.… I stared at the cracks in the walls. There was another right thing I should be doing… that I was not. Of course, it was also a wrong thing. It all depended on one’s perspective. From the perspective of a Cullen—not just a vampire, but a Cullen, someone who belonged to a family, such a rare state in our world—the right thing would have gone something like this: “I’m surprised to see you in class, Edward. I heard you were involved in that awful accident this morning.” “Yes, I was, Mr. Banner, but I was the lucky one.” A friendly smile. “I didn’t get hurt at all. I wish I could say the same for Tyler and Bella.” “How are they?” “I think Tyler is fine… just some superficial scrapes from the windshield glass. I’m not sure about Bella, though.” A worried frown. “She might have a concussion. I heard she was pretty incoherent for a while—seeing things, even. I know the doctors were worried.…” That’s how it should have gone. That’s what I owed my family. “I’m surprised to see you in class, Edward. I heard you were involved in that awful accident this morning.” No smile. “I wasn’t hurt.” Mr. Banner shifted his weight from foot to foot, uncomfortable. “Do you have any idea how Tyler Crowley and Bella Swan are? I heard there were some injuries.…” I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.” Mr. Banner cleared his throat. “Er, right…,” he said, my cold stare making his voice sound a bit strained. He walked quickly back to the front of the classroom and began his lecture. It was the wrong thing to do. Unless you looked at it from a more obscure point of view. It just seemed so… so unchivalrous to slander the girl behind her back, especially when she was proving more trustworthy than I could have dreamed. She hadn’t said anything to betray me, despite having good reason to do so. Would I betray her when she had done nothing but keep my secret? I had a nearly identical conversation with Mrs. Goff—just in Spanish rather than in English—and Emmett gave me a long look. I hope you have a good explanation for what happened today. Rose is on the warpath. I rolled my eyes without looking at him. I actually had come up with a perfectly sound explanation. Just suppose I hadn’t done anything to stop the van from crushing the girl. I recoiled from that thought. But if she had been hit, if she’d been mangled and bleeding, the red fluid spilling, wasting on the blacktop, the scent of the fresh blood pulsing through the air… I shuddered again, but not just in horror. Part of me shivered in desire. No, I would not have been able to watch her bleed without exposing us all in a much more flagrant and shocking way. It was a perfectly sound excuse… but I wouldn’t use it. It was too shameful. And I hadn’t thought of it until long after the fact, regardless. Look out for Jasper, Emmett went on, oblivious to my reverie. He’s not as angry… but he’s more resolved. I saw what he meant, and for a moment the room swam around me. The flash of rage was so all-consuming that a red haze clouded my vision. I thought I would choke on it. EDWARD! GET A GRIP! Emmett shouted at me in his head. His hand came down on my shoulder, holding me in my seat before I could jump to my feet. He rarely used his full strength—there was almost never a need, for he was so much stronger than any vampire we’d ever encountered—but he used it now. He gripped my arm, rather than pushing me down. If he’d been pushing, the chair under me would have collapsed. EASY! he ordered. I tried to calm myself, but it was hard. The rage burned in my head. Jasper’s not going to do anything until we all talk. I just thought you should know the direction he’s headed. I concentrated on relaxing and felt Emmett’s hand loosen. Try not to make more of a spectacle of yourself. You’re in enough trouble as it is. I took a deep breath and Emmett released me. I searched around the room routinely, but our confrontation had been so short and silent that only a few people sitting behind Emmett had even noticed. None of them knew what to make of it, and they shrugged it off. The Cullens were freaks—everyone knew that already. Damn, kid, you’re a mess, Emmett added, sympathy in his tone. “Bite me,” I muttered under my breath, and I heard his low chuckle. Emmett didn’t hold grudges, and I probably ought to have been more grateful for his easygoing acceptance. But I could see that Jasper’s intentions made sense to him, that he was considering how it might be the best course of action. The rage simmered, barely under control. Yes, Emmett was stronger than I was, but he’d yet to beat me in a wrestling match. He claimed that this was because I cheated, but hearing thoughts was just as much a part of who I was as his immense strength was a part of him. We were evenly matched in a fight. A fight? Was that where this was headed? Was I going to fight with my family over a human I barely knew? I thought about that for a moment, thought about the fragile feel of the girl’s body in my arms in juxtaposition with Jasper, Rose, and Emmett— supernaturally strong and fast, killing machines by nature. Yes, I would fight for her. Against my family. I shuddered. But it wasn’t fair to leave her undefended when I was the one who’d put her in danger! I couldn’t win alone, though, not against the three of them, and I wondered who my allies would be. Carlisle, certainly. He would not fight anyone, but he would be wholly against Rose’s and Jasper’s designs. That might be all I needed. Esme, doubtful. She would not side against me, either, and she would hate to disagree with Carlisle, but she would be for any plan that kept her family intact. Her first priority would not be what was right, but me. If Carlisle was the soul of our family, then Esme was the heart. He gave us a leader who deserved following; she made that following into an act of love. We all loved each other—even under the fury I felt toward Jasper and Rose right now, even planning to fight them to save the girl, I knew that I loved them. Alice… I had no idea. It would probably depend on what she saw coming. She would side with the winner, I imagined. So I would have to do this without help. I wasn’t a match for them alone, but I wasn’t going to let the girl be hurt because of me. That might mean evasive action. My rage dulled a bit with the sudden black humor. I tried to imagine how the girl would react to my kidnapping her. Of course, I rarely guessed her reactions right—but what other response could she have besides terror? I wasn’t sure how to manage that, though—kidnapping her. I wouldn’t be able to stand being close to her for very long. Perhaps I would just deliver her back to her mother. Even that much would be fraught with danger. For her. And also for me, I realized suddenly. If I were to kill her by accident… I wasn’t certain exactly how much pain that would cause me, but I knew it would be multifaceted and intense. The time passed quickly while I mulled over all the complications ahead of me: the argument waiting for me at home, the conflict with my family, the lengths I might be forced to go to afterward. Well, I couldn’t complain that life outside this school was monotonous. The girl had changed that much. Emmett and I walked silently to the car when the bell rang. He was worrying about me and worrying about Rosalie. He knew he would have no choice when it came time to pick sides, and it bothered him. The others were waiting for us in the car, also silent. We were a very quiet group. Only I could hear the shouting. Idiot! Lunatic! Moron! Jackass! Selfish, irresponsible fool! Rosalie kept up a constant stream of insults at the top of her mental lungs. It made it hard to hear the others, but I ignored her as best I could. Emmett was right about Jasper. He was sure of his course. Alice was troubled, worrying about Jasper, flipping through images of the future. No matter which direction Jasper came at the girl, Alice always saw me there, blocking him. Interesting… neither Rosalie nor Emmett was with him in these visions. So Jasper planned to work alone. That would even things up. Jasper was the best, certainly the most experienced fighter among us. My one advantage lay in that I could hear his moves before he made them. I had never fought more than playfully with my brothers—just horsing around. I felt sick at the thought of really trying to hurt Jasper. No, not that. Just to block him. That was all. I concentrated on Alice, memorizing Jasper’s different avenues of attack. As I did that, her visions shifted, moving farther and farther away from the Swans’ house. I was cutting him off earlier. Stop that, Edward! she snapped. It can’t happen this way. I won’t let it. I didn’t answer her, I just kept watching. She began searching further ahead, into the misty, unsure realm of distant possibilities. Everything was shadowy and vague. The entire way home, the charged silence did not lift. I parked in the big garage off the house. Carlisle’s Mercedes was there, next to Emmett’s big Jeep, Rose’s M3, and my Vanquish. I was glad Carlisle was already home— this silence could end explosively, and I wanted him there when that happened. We went straight to the dining room. The room was, of course, never used for its intended purpose. But it was furnished with a long, oval mahogany table surrounded by chairs—we were scrupulous about having all the correct props in place. Carlisle liked to use it as a conference room. In a group with such strong and disparate personalities, sometimes it was necessary to discuss things in a calm, seated manner. I had a feeling that the setting was not going to help much today. Carlisle sat in his usual spot at the eastern head of the room. Esme was beside him—they held hands on top of the table. Esme’s eyes were on me, their golden depths full of concern. Stay. It was her only thought. She had no idea of what was about to start; she was just worried about me. I wished I could smile at the woman who was truly a mother to me, but I had no reassurances for her now. I sat on Carlisle’s other side. Carlisle had a better sense of what was coming. His lips were pressed tightly together and his forehead was creased. The expression looked too old for his young face. As everyone else sat, I could see the lines being drawn. Rosalie sat directly across from Carlisle, at the other end of the long table. She glared at me, never looking away. Emmett sat beside her, his face and thoughts both wry. Jasper hesitated, and then went to stand against the wall behind Rosalie. He was decided, regardless of the outcome of this discussion. My teeth locked together. Alice was the last to come in, and her eyes were focused on something far away—the future, still too indistinct for her to make use of it. Without seeming to think about it, she sat next to Esme. She rubbed her forehead as if she had a headache. Jasper twitched uneasily and considered joining her, but he kept his place. I took a deep breath. I had started this—I should speak first. “I’m sorry,” I said, looking first at Rose, then Jasper, and then Emmett. “I didn’t mean to put any of you at risk. It was thoughtless, and I take full responsibility for my hasty action.” Rosalie glared at me balefully. “What do you mean, ‘take full responsibility’? Are you going to fix it?” “Not the way you mean,” I said, working to keep my voice even and quiet. “I was already planning to leave before this happened. I’ll go now…” If I believe that the girl will be safe, I amended in my head. If I believe that none of you will touch her. “The situation will resolve itself.” “No,” Esme murmured. “No, Edward.” I patted her hand. “It’s just a few years.” “Esme’s right, though,” Emmett said. “You can’t go anywhere. That would be the opposite of helpful. We have to know what people are thinking, now more than ever.” “Alice will catch anything major,” I disagreed. Carlisle shook his head. “I think Emmett is right, Edward. The girl will be more likely to talk if you disappear. It’s all of us leave, or none of us.” “She won’t say anything,” I insisted quickly. Rose was building up to the explosion, and I wanted this fact out there first. “You don’t know her mind,” Carlisle reminded me. “I know this much. Alice, back me up.” Alice stared up at me wearily. “I can’t see what will happen if we just ignore this.” She glanced at Rose and Jasper. No, she couldn’t see that future—not when Rosalie and Jasper were so decided against ignoring the incident. Rosalie’s palm smacked down on the table with a loud bang. “We can’t allow the human a chance to say anything. Carlisle, you must see that. Even if we decided to all disappear, it’s not safe to leave stories behind us. We live so differently from the rest of our kind—you know there are those who would love an excuse to point fingers. We have to be more careful than anyone else!” “We’ve left rumors behind us before,” I reminded her. “Just rumors and suspicions, Edward. Not eyewitnesses and evidence!” “Evidence!” I scoffed. But Jasper was nodding, his eyes hard. “Rose—” Carlisle began. “Let me finish, Carlisle. It doesn’t have to be any big production. The girl hit her head today. So maybe that injury turns out to be more serious than it looked.” Rosalie shrugged. “Every mortal goes to sleep with the chance of never waking up. The others would expect us to clean up after ourselves. Technically, that would make it Edward’s job, but this is obviously beyond him. You know I’m capable of control. I would leave no evidence behind me.” “Yes, Rosalie, we all know how proficient an assassin you are,” I snarled. She hissed at me, momentarily beyond words. If only that could last. “Edward, please,” Carlisle said. Then he turned to Rosalie. “Rosalie, I looked the other way in Rochester because I felt that you were owed your justice. The men you killed had wronged you monstrously. This is not the same situation. The Swan girl is entirely innocent.” “It’s not personal, Carlisle,” Rosalie said through her teeth. “It’s to protect us all.” There was a brief moment of silence while Carlisle thought through his answer. When he nodded, Rosalie’s eyes lit up. She should have known better. Even if I hadn’t been able to read his thoughts, I could have anticipated his next words. Carlisle never compromised. “I know you mean well, Rosalie, but… I’d like very much for our family to be worth protecting. The occasional… accident or lapse in control is a regrettable part of what we are.” It was very like him to include himself in the plural, though he had never had such a lapse himself. “To murder a blameless child in cold blood is another thing entirely. I believe the risk she presents, whether she speaks her suspicions or not, is nothing to the greater risk. If we make exceptions to protect ourselves, we risk something much more important. We risk losing the essence of who we are.” I controlled my expression very carefully. It wouldn’t do at all to grin. Or to applaud, as I wished I could. Rosalie scowled. “It’s just being responsible.” “It’s being callous,” Carlisle corrected gently. “Every life is precious.” Rosalie sighed heavily and her lower lip pouted out. Emmett patted her shoulder. “It’ll be fine, Rose,” he encouraged in a low voice. “The question,” Carlisle continued, “is whether we should move on.” “No,” Rosalie moaned. “We just got settled. I don’t want to start on my sophomore year in high school again!” “You could keep your present age, of course,” Carlisle said. “And have to move again that much sooner?” she countered. Carlisle shrugged. “I like it here! There’s so little sun, we get to be almost normal.” “Well, we certainly don’t have to decide now. We can wait and see if it becomes necessary. Edward seems certain of the Swan girl’s silence.” Rosalie snorted. But I was no longer worried about Rose. I could see that she would go along with Carlisle’s decision, no matter how infuriated she was with me. Their conversation had moved on to unimportant details. Jasper remained unmoved. I understood why. Before he and Alice had met, he’d lived in a combat zone, a relentless theater of war. He knew the consequences of flouting the rules—he’d seen the grisly aftermath with his own eyes. It said much that he had not tried to calm Rosalie down with his extra faculties, nor did he now try to rile her up. He was holding himself aloof from this discussion—above it. “Jasper,” I said. He met my gaze, his face expressionless. “She won’t pay for my mistake. I won’t allow that.” “She benefits from it, then? She should have died today, Edward. I would only set that right.” I repeated myself, emphasizing each word. “I will not allow it.” His eyebrows shot up. He wasn’t expecting this—he hadn’t imagined that I would act to stop him. He shook his head once. “And I will not let Alice live in danger, even a slight danger. You don’t feel about anyone the way I feel about her, Edward, and you haven’t lived through what I’ve lived through, whether you’ve seen my memories or not. You don’t understand.” “I’m not disputing that, Jasper. But I’m telling you now, I won’t allow you to hurt Isabella Swan.” We stared at each other—not glaring, but measuring the opposition. I felt him sample the mood around me, testing my determination. “Jazz,” Alice said, interrupting us. He held my gaze for a moment more, and then looked at her. “Don’t bother telling me you can protect yourself, Alice. I already know that. It doesn’t change—” “That’s not what I’m going say,” Alice interrupted. “I was going to ask you for a favor.” I saw what was on her mind, and my mouth fell open with an audible gasp. I stared at her, shocked, only vaguely aware that everyone besides Alice and Jasper was now eyeing me warily. “I know you love me. Thanks. But I would really appreciate it if you didn’t try to kill Bella. First of all, Edward’s quite serious and I don’t want you two fighting. Secondly, she’s my friend. At least, she’s going to be.” It was clear as glass in her head: Alice, smiling, with her icy white arm around the girl’s warm, fragile shoulders. And Bella was smiling, too, her arm around Alice’s waist. The vision was rock solid; only the timing of it was unsure. “But… Alice…,” Jasper gasped. I couldn’t manage to turn my head to see his expression. I couldn’t tear myself away from the image in Alice’s vision in order to hear his thoughts. “I’m going to love her someday, Jazz. I’ll be very put out with you if you don’t let her be.” I was still locked into Alice’s thoughts. I saw the future shimmer as Jasper’s resolve floundered in the face of her unexpected request. “Ah,” she sighed—his indecision had cleared a new future. “See? Bella’s not going to say anything. There’s nothing to worry about.” The way she said the girl’s name… like they were already close confidants. “Alice,” I choked. “What… does this…?” “I told you there was a change coming. I don’t know, Edward.” But she locked her jaw, and I could see that there was more. She was trying not to think about it. She was focusing very hard on Jasper suddenly, though he was too stunned to have progressed much in his decision-making. She did this sometimes when she was trying to keep something from me. “What, Alice? What are you hiding?” I heard Emmett grumble. He always got frustrated when Alice and I had these kinds of conversations. She shook her head, trying not to let me in. “Is it about the girl?” I demanded. “Is it about Bella?” She had her teeth gritted in concentration, but when I spoke Bella’s name, she slipped. Her slip only lasted the tiniest portion of a second, but that was long enough. “NO!” I shouted. I heard my chair hit the floor, and only then realized I was on my feet. “Edward!” Carlisle was on his feet, too, gripping my shoulder. I was barely aware of him. “It’s solidifying,” Alice whispered. “Every minute you’re more decided. There are really only two ways left for her. It’s one or the other, Edward.” I could see what she saw… but I could not accept it. “No,” I said again. There was no volume to my denial. My legs felt hollow, and I had to brace myself against the table. Carlisle’s hand fell away. “That is so annoying,” Emmett complained. “I have to leave,” I whispered to Alice, ignoring him. “Edward, we’ve already been over that,” Emmett said loudly. “That’s the best way to start the girl talking. Besides, if you take off, we won’t know for sure if she’s talking or not. You have to stay and deal with this.” “I don’t see you going anywhere, Edward,” Alice told me. “I don’t know if you can leave anymore.” Think about it, she added silently. Think about leaving. I understood what she meant. Yes, the idea of never seeing the girl again was… painful. I’d already felt that in the hospital hallway where I’d given her such a harsh farewell. But now leaving was even more necessary. I couldn’t sanction either future I’d apparently condemned her to. I’m not entirely sure of Jasper, Edward, Alice went on. If you leave, if he thinks she’s a danger to us… “I don’t hear that,” I contradicted her, still only halfway aware of our audience. Jasper was wavering. He would not do something that would hurt Alice. Not right this moment. Will you risk her life, leave her undefended? “Why are you doing this to me?” I groaned. My head fell into my hands. I was not Bella’s protector. I could not be that. Wasn’t Alice’s divided future enough proof of that? I love her, too. Or I will. It’s not the same, but I want her around for that. “Love her, too?” I whispered, incredulous. She sighed. You are so blind, Edward. Can’t you see where you’re headed? Can’t you see where you already are? It’s more inevitable than the sun rising tomorrow morning. See what I see.… I shook my head, horrified. “No.” I tried to shut out the visions she revealed to me. “I don’t have to follow that course. I’ll leave. I will change the future.” “You can try,” she said, her voice skeptical. “Oh, come on!” Emmett bellowed. “Pay attention,” Rose hissed at him. “Alice sees him falling for a human! How classically Edward!” She made a gagging sound. I scarcely heard her. “What?” Emmett said, startled. Then his booming laugh echoed through the room. “Is that what’s been going on?” He laughed again. “Tough break, Edward.” I felt his hand touch my arm, but I shook it off absently. I couldn’t pay attention to him. “Fall for a human?” Esme repeated in a stunned voice. “For the girl he saved today? Fall in love with her?” “What do you see, Alice? Exactly,” Jasper demanded. She turned toward him. I continued to stare numbly at the side of her face. “It all depends on whether he is strong enough. Either he’ll kill her himself”—she turned to meet my gaze again, glaring—“which would really irritate me, Edward, not to mention what it would do to you—” She faced Jasper again. “Or she’ll be one of us someday.” Someone gasped; I didn’t look to see who. “That’s not going to happen!” I was shouting again. “Either one!” Alice spoke as if she hadn’t heard me. “It all depends,” she repeated. “He may be just strong enough not to kill her—but it will be close. It will take an amazing amount of control,” she mused. “More, even, than Carlisle has. The only thing he’s not strong enough to do is stay away from her. That’s a lost cause.” I couldn’t find my voice. No one else seemed to be able to, either. The room was still. I stared at Alice, and everyone else stared at me. I could see my own horrified expression from five different viewpoints. After a long moment, Carlisle sighed. “Well, this… complicates things.” “I’ll say,” Emmett agreed. His voice was still close to laughter. Trust Emmett to find the joke in the destruction of my life. “I suppose the plans remain the same, though,” Carlisle said thoughtfully. “We’ll stay, and watch. Obviously, no one will… hurt the girl.” I stiffened. “No,” Jasper said quietly. “I can agree to that. If Alice sees only two ways—” “No!” My voice was not a shout or a growl or a cry of despair, but some combination of the three. “No!” I had to leave, to be away from the noise of their thoughts—Rosalie’s self-righteous disgust, Emmett’s humor, Carlisle’s never-ending patience.… Worse: Alice’s confidence. Jasper’s confidence in that confidence. Worst of all: Esme’s… joy. I stalked out of the room. Esme reached for my hand as I passed, but I didn’t acknowledge the gesture. I was running before I was out of the house. I cleared the lawn and river in one bound and raced into the forest. The rain was back again, falling so heavily that I was drenched in a few seconds. I liked the thick sheet of water—it made a wall between me and the rest of the world. It closed me in, let me be alone. I ran due east, over and through the mountains without breaking my straight course, until I could see a hazy hint of Seattle lights on the other side of the sound. I stopped before I touched the borders of human civilization. Shut in by the rain, all alone, I finally made myself look at what I had done—at the way I had mutilated the future. First, the vision of Alice and the girl with their arms around each other, walking together in the forest near the high school—the trust and friendship was so obvious it sang out from the image. Bella’s wide chocolate eyes were not confused in this vision, but still full of secrets—in this moment, they seemed to be happy secrets. She did not flinch away from Alice’s cold arm. What did it mean? How much did she know? In that still-life moment from the future, what did she think of me? Then the other image, so much the same, yet now colored by horror. Alice and Bella on the front porch of my house, their arms still wrapped around each other in trusting friendship. But now there was no difference between those arms—both were white, smooth as marble, hard as steel. Bella’s eyes were no longer the color of chocolate. The irises were a shocking, vivid crimson. The secrets in them were unfathomable— acceptance or desolation? It was impossible to tell. Her face was cold and immortal. I shuddered. I could not suppress the questions, similar, but different: What did it mean—how had this come about? And what did she think of me now? I could answer that last one. If I forced her into this empty half life through my weakness and selfishness, surely she would hate me. But there was one even more horrifying image—worse than any I’d ever held inside my head. My own eyes, deep crimson with human blood, the eyes of the monster. Bella’s broken body in my arms, ashy white, drained, lifeless. It was so concrete, so clear. I couldn’t stand to see this. Could not bear it. I tried to banish it from my mind, tried to see something, anything else. Tried to see again the expression on her living face that had obstructed my view for the last chapter of my existence. All to no avail. Alice’s bleak vision filled my head, and I writhed internally with the agony it caused. Meanwhile, the monster in me was overflowing with glee, jubilant at the likelihood of his success. It sickened me. This could not be allowed. There had to be a way to circumvent the future. I would not let Alice’s visions direct me. I could choose a different path. There was always a choice. There had to be.