would the fact that it was raining buckets have no bearing at all on the　　playing of outdoor sports.　　"Yes, sir, that's the plan." He didn't look surprised that I'd told my　　father the truth. He might have been listening, though.　　"Well, more power to you, I guess."　　Charlie laughed, and Edward joined in.　　"Okay." I stood up. "Enough humor at my expense. Let's go." I walked back　　to the hall and pulled on my jacket. They followed.　　"Not too late, Bell."　　"Don't worry, Charlie, I'll have her home early," Edward promised.　　"You take care of my girl, all right?"　　I groaned, but they ignored me.　　"She'll be safe with me, I promise, sir."　　Charlie couldn't doubt Edward's sincerity, it rang in every word.　　I stalked out. They both laughed, and Edward followed me.　　I stopped dead on the porch. There, behind my truck, was a monster Jeep.　　Its tires were higher than my waist. There were metal guards over the　　headlights and tail-lights, and four large spotlights attached to the　　crash bar. The hardtop was shiny red.　　Charlie let out a low whistle.　　"Wear your seat belts," he choked out.　　Edward followed me around to my side and opened the door. I gauged the　　distance to the seat and prepared to jump for it. He sighed, and then　　lifted me in with one hand. I hoped Charlie didn't notice.　　As he went around to the driver's side, at a normal, human pace, I tried　　to put on my seat belt. But there were too many buckles.　　"What's all this?" I asked when he opened the door.　　"It's an off-roading harness."　　"Uh-oh."　　I tried to find the right places for all the buckles to fit, but it　　wasn't going too quickly. He sighed again and reached over to help me. I　　was glad that the rain was too heavy to see Charlie clearly on the porch.　　That meant he couldn't see how Edward's hands lingered at my neck,　　brushed along my collarbones. I gave up trying to help him and focused on　　not hyperventilating.　　Edward turned the key and the engine roared to life. We pulled away from　　the house.　　"This is a… um… big Jeep you have."　　"It's Emmett's. I didn't think you'd want to run the whole way."　　"Where do you keep this thing?"　　"We remodeled one of the outbuildings into a garage."　　"Aren't you going to put on your seat belt?"　　He threw me a disbelieving look.　　Then something sunk in.　　"Run the whole way? As in, we're still going to run part of the way?" My　　voice edged up a few octaves.　　He grinned tightly. "You're not going to run."　　"I'm going to be sick."　　"Keep your eyes closed, you'll be fine."　　I bit my lip, fighting the panic.　　He leaned over to kiss the top of my head, and then groaned. I looked at　　him, puzzled.　　"You smell so good in the rain," he explained.　　"In a good way, or in a bad way?" I asked cautiously.　　He sighed. "Both, always both."　　I don't know how he found his way in the gloom and downpour, but he　　somehow found a side road that was less of a road and more of a mountain　　path. For a long while conversation was impossible, because I was　　bouncing up and down on the seat like a jackhammer. He seemed to enjoy　　the ride, though, smiling hugely the whole way.　　And then we came to the end of the road; the trees formed green walls on　　three sides of the Jeep. The rain was a mere drizzle, slowing every　　second, the sky brighter through the clouds.　　"Sorry, Bella, we have to go on foot from here."　　"You know what? I'll just wait here."　　"What happened to all your courage? You were extraordinary this morning."　　"I haven't forgotten the last time yet." Could it have been only　　yesterday?　　He was around to my side of the car in a blur. He started unbuckling me.　　"I'll get those, you go on ahead," I protested.　　"Hmmm…" he mused as he quickly finished. "It seems I'm going to have to　　tamper with your memory."　　Before I could react, he pulled me from the Jeep and set my feet on the　　ground. It was barely misting now; Alice was going to be right.　　"Tamper with my memory?" I asked nervously.　　"Something like that." He was watching me intently, carefully, but there　　was humor deep in his eyes. He placed his hands against the Jeep on　　either side of my head and leaned forward, forcing me to press back　　against the door. He leaned in even closer, his face inches from mine. I　　had no room to escape.　　"Now," he breathed, and just his smell disturbed my thought processes,　　"what exactly are you worrying about?"　　"Well, um, hitting a tree —" I gulped "— and dying. And then getting　　sick."　　He fought back a smile. Then he bent his head down and touched his cold　　lips softly to the hollow at the base of my throat.　　"Are you still worried now?" he murmured against my skin.　　"Yes." I struggled to concentrate. "About hitting trees and getting sick."　　His nose drew a line up the skin of my throat to the point of my chin.　　His cold breath tickled my skin.　　"And now?" His lips whispered against my jaw.　　"Trees," I gasped. "Motion sickness."　　He lifted his face to kiss my eyelids. "Bella, you don't really think I　　would hit a tree, do you?"　　"No, but I might." There was no confidence in my voice. He smelled an　　easy victory.　　He kissed slowly down my cheek, stopping just at the corner of my mouth.　　"Would I let a tree hurt you?" His lips barely brushed against my　　trembling lower lip.　　"No," I breathed. I knew there was a second part to my brilliant defense,　　but I couldn't quite call it back.　　"You see," he said, his lips moving against mine. "There's nothing to be　　afraid of, is there?"　　"No," I sighed, giving up.　　Then he took my face in his hands almost roughly, and kissed me in　　earnest, his unyielding lips moving against mine.　　There really was no excuse for my behavior. Obviously I knew better by　　now. And yet I couldn't seem to stop from reacting exactly as I had the　　first time. Instead of keeping safely motionless, my arms reached up to　　twine tightly around his neck, and I was suddenly welded to his stone　　figure. I sighed, and my lips parted.　　He staggered back, breaking my grip effortlessly.　　"Damn it, Bella!" he broke off, gasping. "You'll be the death of me, I　　swear you will."　　I leaned over, bracing my hands against my knees for support.　　"You're indestructible," I mumbled, trying to catch my breath.　　"I might have believed that before I met you. Now let's get out of here　　before I do something really stupid," he growled.　　He threw me across his back as he had before, and I could see the extra　　effort it took for him to be as gentle as he was. I locked my legs around　　his waist and secured my arms in a choke hold around his neck.　　"Don't forget to close your eyes," he warned severely.　　I quickly tucked my face into his shoulder blade, under my own arm, and　　squeezed my eyes shut.　　And I could hardly tell we were moving. I could feel him gliding along　　beneath me, but he could have been strolling down the sidewalk, the　　movement was so smooth. I was tempted to peek, just to see if he was　　really flying through the forest like before, but I resisted. It wasn't　　worth that awful dizziness. I contented myself with listening to his　　breath come and go evenly.　　I wasn't quite sure we had stopped until he reached back and touched my　　hair.　　"It's over, Bella."　　I dared to open my eyes, and, sure enough, we were at a standstill. I　　stiffly unlocked my stranglehold on his body and slipped to the ground,　　landing on my backside.　　"Oh!" I huffed as I hit the wet ground.　　He stared at me incredulously, evidently not sure whether he was still　　too mad to find me funny. But my bewildered expression pushed him over　　the edge, and he broke into a roar of laughter.　　I picked myself up, ignoring him as I brushed the mud and bracken off the　　back of my jacket. That only made him laugh harder. Annoyed, I began to　　stride off into the forest.　　I felt his arm around my waist.　　"Where are you going, Bella?"　　"To watch a baseball game. You don't seem to be interested in playing　　anymore, but I'm sure the others will have fun without you."　　"You're going the wrong way."　　I turned around without looking at him, and stalked off in the opposite　　direction. He caught me again.　　"Don't be mad, I couldn't help myself. You should have seen your face."　　He chuckled before he could stop himself.　　"Oh, you're the only one who's allowed to get mad?" I asked, raising my　　eyebrows.　　"I wasn't mad at you."　　"'Bella, you'll be the death of me'?" I quoted sourly.　　"That was simply a statement of fact."　　I tried to turn away from him again, but he held me fast.　　"You were mad," I insisted.　　"Yes."　　"But you just said —"　　"That I wasn't mad at you. Can't you see that, Bella?" He was suddenly　　intense, all trace of teasing gone. "Don't you understand?"　　"See what?" I demanded, confused by his sudden mood swing as much as his　　words.　　"I'm never angry with you — how could I be? Brave, trusting… warm as you　　are."　　"Then why?" I whispered, remembering the black moods that pulled him away　　from me, that I'd always interpreted as well-justified frustration —　　frustration at my weakness, my slowness, my unruly human reactions…　　He put his hands carefully on both sides of my face. "I infuriate　　myself," he said gently. "The way I can't seem to keep from putting you　　in danger. My very existence puts you at risk. Sometimes I truly hate　　myself. I should be stronger, I should be able to —"　　I placed my hand over his mouth. "Don't."　　He took my hand, moving it from his lips, but holding it to his face.　　"I love you," he said. "It's a poor excuse for what I'm doing, but it's　　still true."　　It was the first time he'd said he loved me — in so many words. He might　　not realize it, but I certainly did.　　"Now, please try to behave yourself," he continued, and he bent to softly　　brush his lips against mine.　　I held properly still. Then I sighed.　　"You promised Chief Swan that you would have me home early, remember?　　We'd better get going."　　"Yes, ma'am."　　He smiled wistfully and released all of me but one hand. He led me a few　　feet through the tall, wet ferns and draping moss, around a massive　　hemlock tree, and we were there, on the edge of an enormous open field in　　the lap of the Olympic peaks. It was twice the size of any baseball　　stadium.　　I could see the others all there; Esme, Emmett, and Rosalie, sitting on a　　bare outcropping of rock, were the closest to us, maybe a hundred yards　　away. Much farther out I could see Jasper and Alice, at least a quarter　　of a mile apart, appearing to throw something back and forth, but I never　　saw any ball. It looked like Carlisle was marking bases, but could they　　really be that far apart?　　When we came into view, the three on the rocks rose.　　Esme started toward us. Emmett followed after a long look at Rosalie's　　back; Rosalie had risen gracefully and strode off toward the field　　without a glance in our direction. My stomach quivered uneasily in　　response.　　"Was that you we heard, Edward?" Esme asked as she approached.　　"It sounded like a bear choking," Emmett clarified.　　I smiled hesitantly at Esme. "That was him."　　"Bella was being unintentionally funny," Edward explained, quickly　　settling the score.　　Alice had left her position and was running, or dancing, toward us. She　　hurtled to a fluid stop at our feet. "It's time," she announced.　　As soon as she spoke, a deep rumble of thunder shook the forest beyond　　us, and then crashed westward toward town.　　"Eerie, isn't it?" Emmett said with easy familiarity, winking at me.　　"Let's go." Alice reached for Emmett's hand and they darted toward the　　oversized field; she ran like a gazelle. He was nearly as graceful and　　just as fast — yet Emmett could never be compared to a gazelle.　　"Are you ready for some ball?" Edward asked, his eyes eager, bright.　　I tried to sound appropriately enthusiastic. "Go team!"　　He snickered and, after mussing my hair, bounded off after the other two.　　His run was more aggressive, a cheetah rather than a gazelle, and he　　quickly overtook them. The grace and power took my breath away.　　"Shall we go down?" Esme asked in her soft, melodic voice, and I realized　　I was staring openmouthed after him. I quickly reassembled my expression　　and nodded. Esme kept a few feet between us, and I wondered if she was　　still being careful not to frighten me. She matched her stride to mine　　without seeming impatient at the pace.　　"You don't play with them?" I asked shyly.　　"No, I prefer to referee — I like keeping them honest," she explained.　　"Do they like to cheat, then?"　　"Oh yes — you should hear the arguments they get into! Actually, I hope　　you don't, you would think they were raised by a pack of wolves."　　"You sound like my mom," I laughed, surprised.　　She laughed, too. "Well, I do think of them as my children in most ways.　　I never could get over my mothering instincts — did Edward tell you I had　　lost a child?"　　"No," I murmured, stunned, scrambling to understand what lifetime she was　　remembering.　　"Yes, my first and only baby. He died just a few days after he was born,　　the poor tiny thing," she sighed. "It broke my heart — that's why I　　jumped off the cliff, you know," she added matter-of-factly.　　"Edward just said you f-fell," I stammered.　　"Always the gentleman." She smiled. "Edward was the first of my new sons.　　I've always thought of him that way, even though he's older than I, in　　one way at least." She smiled at me warmly. "That's why I'm so happy that　　he's found you, dear." The endearment sounded very natural on her lips.　　"He's been the odd man out for far too long; it's hurt me to see him　　alone."　　"You don't mind, then?" I asked, hesitant again. "That I'm… all wrong for　　him?"　　"No." She was thoughtful. "You're what he wants. It will work out,　　somehow," she said, though her forehead creased with worry. Another peal　　of thunder began.　　Esme stopped then; apparently, we'd reached the edge of the field. It　　looked as if they had formed teams. Edward was far out in left field,　　Carlisle stood between the first and second bases, and Alice held the　　ball, positioned on the spot that must be the pitcher's mound.　　Emmett was swinging an aluminum bat; it whistled almost untraceably　　through the air. I waited for him to approach home plate, but then I　　realized, as he took his stance, that he was already there — farther from　　the pitcher's mound than I would have thought possible. Jasper stood　　several feet behind him, catching for the other team. Of course, none of　　them had gloves.　　"All right," Esme called in a clear voice, which I knew even Edward would　　hear, as far out as he was. "Batter up."　　Alice stood straight, deceptively motionless. Her style seemed to be　　stealth rather than an intimidating windup. She held the ball in both　　hands at her waist, and then, like the strike of a cobra, her right hand　　flicked out and the ball smacked into Jasper's hand.　　"Was that a strike?" I whispered to Esme.　　"If they don't hit it, it's a strike," she told me.　　Jasper hurled the ball back to Alice's waiting hand. She permitted　　herself a brief grin. And then her hand spun out again.　　This time the bat somehow made it around in time to smash into the　　invisible ball. The crack of impact was shattering, thunderous; it echoed　　off the mountains — I immediately understood the necessity of the　　thunderstorm.　　The ball shot like a meteor above the field, flying deep into the　　surrounding forest.　　"Home run," I murmured.　　"Wait," Esme cautioned, listening intently, one hand raised. Emmett was a　　blur around the bases, Carlisle shadowing him. I realized Edward was　　missing.　　"Out!" Esme cried in a clear voice. I stared in disbelief as Edward　　sprang from the fringe of the trees, ball in his upraised hand, his wide　　grin visible even to me.　　"Emmett hits the hardest," Esme explained, "but Edward runs the fastest."　　The inning continued before my incredulous eyes. It was impossible to　　keep up with the speed at which the ball flew, the rate at which their　　bodies raced around the field.　　I learned the other reason they waited for a thunderstorm to play when　　Jasper, trying to avoid Edward's infallible fielding, hit a ground ball　　toward Carlisle. Carlisle ran into the ball, and then raced Jasper to　　first base. When they collided, the sound was like the crash of two　　massive falling boulders. I jumped up in concern, but they were somehow　　unscathed.　　"Safe," Esme called in a calm voice.　　Emmett's team was up by one — Rosalie managed to flit around the bases　　after tagging up on one of Emmett's long flies — when Edward caught the　　third out. He sprinted to my side, sparkling with excitement.　　"What do you think?" he asked.　　"One thing's for sure, I'll never be able to sit through dull old Major　　League Baseball again."　　"And it sounds like you did so much of that before," he laughed.　　"I am a little disappointed," I teased.　　"Why?" he asked, puzzled.　　"Well, it would be nice if I could find just one thing you didn't do　　better than everyone else on the planet."　　He flashed his special crooked smile, leaving me breathless.　　"I'm up," he said, heading for the plate.　　He played intelligently, keeping the ball low, out of the reach of　　Rosalie's always-ready hand in the outfield, gaining two bases like　　lightning before Emmett could get the ball back in play. Carlisle knocked　　one so far out of the field — with a boom that hurt my ears — that he and　　Edward both made it in. Alice slapped them dainty high fives.　　The score constantly changed as the game continued, and they razzed each　　other like any street ballplayers as they took turns with the lead.　　Occasionally Esme would call them to order. The thunder rumbled on, but　　we stayed dry, as Alice had predicted.　　Carlisle was up to bat, Edward catching, when Alice suddenly gasped. My　　eyes were on Edward, as usual, and I saw his head snap up to look at her.　　Their eyes met and something flowed between them in an instant. He was at　　my side before the others could ask Alice what was wrong.　　"Alice?" Esme's voice was tense.　　"I didn't see — I couldn't tell," she whispered.　　All the others were gathered by this time.　　"What is it, Alice?" Carlisle asked with the calm voice of authority.　　"They were traveling much quicker than I thought. I can see I had the　　perspective wrong before," she murmured.　　Jasper leaned over her, his posture protective. "What changed?" he asked.　　"They heard us playing, and it changed their path," she said, contrite,　　as if she felt responsible for whatever had frightened her.　　Seven pairs of quick eyes flashed to my face and away.　　"How soon?" Carlisle said, turning toward Edward.　　A look of intense concentration crossed his face.　　"Less than five minutes. They're running — they want to play." He scowled.　　"Can you make it?" Carlisle asked him, his eyes flicking toward me again.　　"No, not carrying —" He cut short. "Besides, the last thing we need is　　for them to catch the scent and start hunting."　　"How many?" Emmett asked Alice.　　"Three," she answered tersely.　　"Three!" he scoffed. "Let them come." The steel bands of muscle flexed　　along his massive arms.　　For a split second that seemed much longer than it really was, Carlisle　　deliberated. Only Emmett seemed unperturbed; the rest stared at　　Carlisle's face with anxious eyes.　　"Let's just continue the game," Carlisle finally decided. His voice was　　cool and level. "Alice said they were simply curious."　　All this was said in a flurry of words that lasted only a few seconds. I　　had listened carefully and caught most of it, though I couldn't hear what　　Esme now asked Edward with a silent vibration of her lips. I only saw the　　slight shake of his head and the look of relief on her face.　　"You catch, Esme," he said. "I'll call it now." And he planted himself in　　front of me.　　The others returned to the field, warily sweeping the dark forest with　　their sharp eyes. Alice and Esme seemed to orient themselves around where　　I stood.　　"Take your hair down," Edward said in a low, even voice.　　I obediently slid the rubber band out of my hair and shook it out around　　me.　　I stated the obvious. "The others are coming now."　　"Yes, stay very still, keep quiet, and don't move from my side, please."　　He hid the stress in his voice well, but I could hear it. He pulled my　　long hair forward, around my face.　　"That won't help," Alice said softly. "I could smell her across the　　field."　　"I know." A hint of frustration colored his tone.　　Carlisle stood at the plate, and the others joined the game halfheartedly.　　"What did Esme ask you?" I whispered.　　He hesitated for a second before he answered. "Whether they were　　thirsty," he muttered unwillingly.　　The seconds ticked by; the game progressed with apathy now. No one dared　　to hit harder than a bunt, and Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper hovered in the　　infield. Now and again, despite the fear that numbed my brain, I was　　aware of Rosalie's eyes on me. They were expressionless, but something　　about the way she held her mouth made me think she was angry.　　Edward paid no attention to the game at all, eyes and mind ranging the　　forest.　　"I'm sorry, Bella," he muttered fiercely. "It was stupid, irresponsible,　　to expose you like this. I'm so sorry."　　I heard his breath stop, and his eyes zeroed in on right field. He took a　　half step, angling himself between me and what was coming.　　Carlisle, Emmett, and the others turned in the same direction, hearing　　sounds of passage much too faint for my ears.　　===========================================================================　　18. THE HUNT　　They emerged one by one from the forest edge, ranging a dozen meters　　apart. The first male into the clearing fell back immediately, allowing　　the other male to take the front, orienting himself around the tall,　　dark-haired man in a manner that clearly displayed who led the pack. The　　third was a woman; from this distance, all I could see of her was that　　her hair was a startling shade of red.　　They closed ranks before they continued cautiously toward Edward's　　family, exhibiting the natural respect of a troop of predators as it　　encounters a larger, unfamiliar group of its own kind.　　As they approached, I could see how different they were from the Cullens.　　Their walk was catlike, a gait that seemed constantly on the edge of　　shifting into a crouch. They dressed in the ordinary gear of backpackers:　　jeans and casual button-down shirts in heavy, weatherproof fabrics. The　　clothes were frayed, though, with wear, and they were barefoot. Both men　　had cropped hair, but the woman's brilliant orange hair was filled with　　leaves and debris from the woods.