us strong enough to resist. Most of the time." His tone turned ominous. "Sometimes it's more difficult than others." "Is it very difficult for you now?" I asked. He sighed. "Yes." "But you're not hungry now," I said confidently — stating, not asking. "Why do you think that?" "Your eyes. I told you I had a theory. I've noticed that people — men in particular — are crabbier when they're hungry." He chuckled. "You are observant, aren't you?" I didn't answer; I just listened to the sound of his laugh, committing it to memory. "Were you hunting this weekend, with Emmett?" I asked when it was quiet again. "Yes." He paused for a second, as if deciding whether or not to say something. "I didn't want to leave, but it was necessary. It's a bit easier to be around you when I'm not thirsty." "Why didn't you want to leave?" "It makes me… anxious… to be away from you." His eyes were gentle but intense, and they seemed to be making my bones turn soft. "I wasn't joking when I asked you to try not to fall in the ocean or get run over last Thursday. I was distracted all weekend, worrying about you. And after what happened tonight, I'm surprised that you did make it through a whole weekend unscathed." He shook his head, and then seemed to remember something. "Well, not totally unscathed." "What?" "Your hands," he reminded me. I looked down at my palms, at the almost-healed scrapes across the heels of my hands. His eyes missed nothing. "I fell," I sighed. "That's what I thought." His lips curved up at the corners. "I suppose, being you, it could have been much worse — and that possibility tormented me the entire time I was away. It was a very long three days. I really got on Emmett's nerves." He smiled ruefully at me. "Three days? Didn't you just get back today?" "No, we got back Sunday." "Then why weren't any of you in school?" I was frustrated, almost angry as I thought of how much disappointment I had suffered because of his absence. "Well, you asked if the sun hurt me, and it doesn't. But I can't go out in the sunlight — at least, not where anyone can see." "Why?" "I'll show you sometime," he promised. I thought about it for a moment. "You might have called me," I decided. He was puzzled. "But I knew you were safe." "But I didn't know where you were. I —" I hesitated, dropping my eyes. "What?" His velvety voice was compelling. "I didn't like it. Not seeing you. It makes me anxious, too." I blushed to be saying this out loud. He was quiet. I glanced up, apprehensive, and saw that his expression was pained. "Ah," he groaned quietly. "This is wrong." I couldn't understand his response. "What did I say?" "Don't you see, Bella? It's one thing for me to make myself miserable, but a wholly other thing for you to be so involved." He turned his anguished eyes to the road, his words flowing almost too fast for me to understand. "I don't want to hear that you feel that way." His voice was low but urgent. His words cut me. "It's wrong. It's not safe. I'm dangerous, Bella — please, grasp that." "No." I tried very hard not to look like a sulky child. "I'm serious," he growled. "So am I. I told you, it doesn't matter what you are. It's too late." His voice whipped out, low and harsh. "Never say that." I bit my lip and was glad he couldn't know how much that hurt. I stared out at the road. We must be close now. He was driving much too fast. "What are you thinking?" he asked, his voice still raw. I just shook my head, not sure if I could speak. I could feel his gaze on my face, but I kept my eyes forward. "Are you crying?" He sounded appalled. I hadn't realized the moisture in my eyes had brimmed over. I quickly rubbed my hand across my cheek, and sure enough, traitor tears were there, betraying me. "No," I said, but my voice cracked. I saw him reach toward me hesitantly with his right hand, but then he stopped and placed it slowly back on the steering wheel. "I'm sorry." His voice burned with regret. I knew he wasn't just apologizing for the words that had upset me. The darkness slipped by us in silence. "Tell me something," he asked after another minute, and I could hear him struggle to use a lighter tone. "Yes?" "What were you thinking tonight, just before I came around the corner? I couldn't understand your expression — you didn't look that scared, you looked like you were concentrating very hard on something." "I was trying to remember how to incapacitate an attacker — you know, self-defense. I was going to smash his nose into his brain." I thought of the dark-haired man with a surge of hate. "You were going to fight them?" This upset him. "Didn't you think about running?" "I fall down a lot when I run," I admitted. "What about screaming for help?" "I was getting to that part." He shook his head. "You were right — I'm definitely fighting fate trying to keep you alive." I sighed. We were slowing, passing into the boundaries of Forks. It had taken less than twenty minutes. "Will I see you tomorrow?" I demanded. "Yes — I have a paper due, too." He smiled. "I'll save you a seat at lunch." It was silly, after everything we'd been through tonight, how that little promise sent flutters through my stomach, and made me unable to speak. We were in front of Charlie's house. The lights were on, my truck in its place, everything utterly normal. It was like waking from a dream. He stopped the car, but I didn't move. "Do you promise to be there tomorrow?" "I promise." I considered that for a moment, then nodded. I pulled his jacket off, taking one last whiff. "You can keep it — you don't have a jacket for tomorrow," he reminded me. I handed it back to him. "I don't want to have to explain to Charlie." "Oh, right." He grinned. I hesitated, my hand on the door handle, trying to prolong the moment. "Bella?" he asked in a different tone — serious, but hesitant. "Yes?" I turned back to him too eagerly. "Will you promise me something?" "Yes," I said, and instantly regretted my unconditional agreement. What if he asked me to stay away from him? I couldn't keep that promise. "Don't go into the woods alone." I stared at him in blank confusion. "Why?" He frowned, and his eyes were tight as he stared past me out the window. "I'm not always the most dangerous thing out there. Let's leave it at that." I shuddered slightly at the sudden bleakness in his voice, but I was relieved. This, at least, was an easy promise to honor. "Whatever you say." "I'll see you tomorrow," he sighed, and I knew he wanted me to leave now. "Tomorrow, then." I opened the door unwillingly. "Bella?" I turned and he was leaning toward me, his pale, glorious face just inches from mine. My heart stopped beating. "Sleep well," he said. His breath blew in my face, stunning me. It was the same exquisite scent that clung to his jacket, but in a more concentrated form. I blinked, thoroughly dazed. He leaned away. I was unable to move until my brain had somewhat unscrambled itself. Then I stepped out of the car awkwardly, having to use the frame for support. I thought I heard him chuckle, but the sound was too quiet for me to be certain. He waited till I had stumbled to the front door, and then I heard his engine quietly rev. I turned to watch the silver car disappear around the corner. I realized it was very cold. I reached for the key mechanically, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. Charlie called from the living room. "Bella?" "Yeah, Dad, it's me." I walked in to see him. He was watching a baseball game. "You're home early." "Am I?" I was surprised. "It's not even eight yet," he told me. "Did you girls have fun?" "Yeah — it was lots of fun." My head was spinning as I tried to remember all the way back to the girls' night out I had planned. "They both found dresses." "Are you all right?" "I'm just tired. I did a lot of walking." "Well, maybe you should go lie down." He sounded concerned. I wondered what my face looked like. "I'm just going to call Jessica first." "Weren't you just with her?" he asked, surprised. "Yes — but I left my jacket in her car. I want to make sure she brings it tomorrow." "Well, give her a chance to get home first." "Right," I agreed. I went to the kitchen and fell, exhausted, into a chair. I was really feeling dizzy now. I wondered if I was going to go into shock after all. Get a grip, I told myself. The phone rang suddenly, startling me. I yanked it off the hook. "Hello?" I asked breathlessly. "Bella?" "Hey, Jess, I was just going to call you." "You made it home?" Her voice was relieved… and surprised. "Yes. I left my jacket in your car — could you bring it to me tomorrow?" "Sure. But tell me what happened!" she demanded. "Um, tomorrow — in Trig, okay?" She caught on quickly. "Oh, is your dad there?" "Yes, that's right." "Okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow, then. Bye!" I could hear the impatience in her voice. "Bye, Jess." I walked up the stairs slowly, a heavy stupor clouding my mind. I went through the motions of getting ready for bed without paying any attention to what I was doing. It wasn't until I was in the shower — the water too hot, burning my skin — that I realized I was freezing. I shuddered violently for several minutes before the steaming spray could finally relax my rigid muscles. Then I stood in the shower, too tired to move, until the hot water began to run out. I stumbled out, wrapping myself securely in a towel, trying to hold the heat from the water in so the aching shivers wouldn't return. I dressed for bed swiftly and climbed under my quilt, curling into a ball, hugging myself to keep warm. A few small shudders trembled through me. My mind still swirled dizzily, full of images I couldn't understand, and some I fought to repress. Nothing seemed clear at first, but as I fell gradually closer to unconsciousness, a few certainties became evident. About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a vampire. Second, there was part of him — and I didn't know how potent that part might be — that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him. =========================================================================== 10. INTERROGATIONS It was very hard, in the morning, to argue with the part of me that was sure last night was a dream. Logic wasn't on my side, or common sense. I clung to the parts I couldn't have imagined — like his smell. I was sure I could never have dreamed that up on my own. It was foggy and dark outside my window, absolutely perfect. He had no reason not to be in school today. I dressed in my heavy clothes, remembering I didn't have a jacket. Further proof that my memory was real. When I got downstairs, Charlie was gone again — I was running later than I'd realized. I swallowed a granola bar in three bites, chased it down with milk straight from the carton, and then hurried out the door. Hopefully the rain would hold off until I could find Jessica. It was unusually foggy; the air was almost smoky with it. The mist was ice cold where it clung to the exposed skin on my face and neck. I couldn't wait to get the heat going in my truck. It was such a thick fog that I was a few feet down the driveway before I realized there was a car in it: a silver car. My heart thudded, stuttered, and then picked up again in double time. I didn't see where he came from, but suddenly he was there, pulling the door open for me. "Do you want to ride with me today?" he asked, amused by my expression as he caught me by surprise yet again. There was uncertainty in his voice. He was really giving me a choice — I was free to refuse, and part of him hoped for that. It was a vain hope. "Yes, thank you," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. As I stepped into the warm car, I noticed his tan jacket was slung over the headrest of the passenger seat. The door closed behind me, and, sooner than should be possible, he was sitting next to me, starting the car. "I brought the jacket for you. I didn't want you to get sick or something." His voice was guarded. I noticed that he wore no jacket himself, just a light gray knit V-neck shirt with long sleeves. Again, the fabric clung to his perfectly muscled chest. It was a colossal tribute to his face that it kept my eyes away from his body. "I'm not quite that delicate," I said, but I pulled the jacket onto my lap, pushing my arms through the too-long sleeves, curious to see if the scent could possibly be as good as I remembered. It was better. "Aren't you?" he contradicted in a voice so low I wasn't sure if he meant for me to hear. We drove through the fog-shrouded streets, always too fast, feeling awkward. I was, at least. Last night all the walls were down… almost all. I didn't know if we were still being as candid today. It left me tongue-tied. I waited for him to speak. He turned to smirk at me. "What, no twenty questions today?" "Do my questions bother you?" I asked, relieved. "Not as much as your reactions do." He looked like he was joking, but I couldn't be sure. I frowned. "Do I react badly?" "No, that's the problem. You take everything so coolly — it's unnatural. It makes me wonder what you're really thinking." "I always tell you what I'm really thinking." "You edit," he accused. "Not very much." "Enough to drive me insane." "You don't want to hear it," I mumbled, almost whispered. As soon as the words were out, I regretted them. The pain in my voice was very faint; I could only hope he hadn't noticed it. He didn't respond, and I wondered if I had ruined the mood. His face was unreadable as we drove into the school parking lot. Something occurred to me belatedly. "Where's the rest of your family?" I asked — more than glad to be alone with him, but remembering that his car was usually full. "They took Rosalie's car." He shrugged as he parked next to a glossy red convertible with the top up. "Ostentatious, isn't it?" "Um, wow," I breathed. "If she has that, why does she ride with you?" "Like I said, it's ostentatious. We try to blend in." "You don't succeed." I laughed and shook my head as we got out of the car. I wasn't late anymore; his lunatic driving had gotten me to school in plenty of time. "So why did Rosalie drive today if it's more conspicuous?" "Hadn't you noticed? I'm breaking all the rules now." He met me at the front of the car, staying very close to my side as we walked onto campus. I wanted to close that little distance, to reach out and touch him, but I was afraid he wouldn't like me to. "Why do you have cars like that at all?" I wondered aloud. "If you're looking for privacy?" "An indulgence," he admitted with an impish smile. "We all like to drive fast." "Figures," I muttered under my breath. Under the shelter of the cafeteria roof's overhang, Jessica was waiting, her eyes about to bug out of their sockets. Over her arm, bless her, was my jacket. "Hey, Jessica," I said when we were a few feet away. "Thanks for remembering." She handed me my jacket without speaking. "Good morning, Jessica," Edward said politely. It wasn't really his fault that his voice was so irresistible. Or what his eyes were capable of. "Er… hi." She shifted her wide eyes to me, trying to gather her jumbled thoughts. "I guess I'll see you in Trig." She gave me a meaningful look, and I suppressed a sigh. What on earth was I going to tell her? "Yeah, I'll see you then." She walked away, pausing twice to peek back over her shoulder at us. "What are you going to tell her?" Edward murmured. "Hey, I thought you couldn't read my mind!" I hissed. "I can't," he said, startled. Then understanding brightened his eyes. "However, I can read hers — she'll be waiting to ambush you in class." I groaned as I pulled off his jacket and handed it to him, replacing it with my own. He folded it over his arm. "So what are you going to tell her?" "A little help?" I pleaded. "What does she want to know?" He shook his head, grinning wickedly. "That's not fair." "No, you not sharing what you know — now that's not fair." He deliberated for a moment as we walked. We stopped outside the door to my first class. "She wants to know if we're secretly dating. And she wants to know how you feel about me," he finally said. "Yikes. What should I say?" I tried to keep my expression very innocent. People were passing us on their way to class, probably staring, but I was barely aware of them. "Hmmm." He paused to catch a stray lock of hair that was escaping the twist on my neck and wound it back into place. My heart spluttered hyperactively. "I suppose you could say yes to the first… if you don't mind — it's easier than any other explanation." "I don't mind," I said in a faint voice. "And as for her other question… well, I'll be listening to hear the answer to that one myself." One side of his mouth pulled up into my favorite uneven smile. I couldn't catch my breath soon enough to respond to that remark. He turned and walked away. "I'll see you at lunch," he called over his shoulder. Three people walking in the door stopped to stare at me. I hurried into class, flushed and irritated. He was such a cheater. Now I was even more worried about what I was going to say to Jessica. I sat in my usual seat, slamming my bag down in aggravation. "Morning, Bella," Mike said from the seat next to me. I looked up to see an odd, almost resigned look on his face. "How was Port Angeles?" "It was…" There was no honest way to sum it up. "Great," I finished lamely. "Jessica got a really cute dress." "Did she say anything about Monday night?" he asked, his eyes brightening. I smiled at the turn the conversation had taken. "She said she had a really good time," I assured him. "She did?" he said eagerly. "Most definitely." Mr. Mason called the class to order then, asking us to turn in our papers. English and then Government passed in a blur, while I worried about how to explain things to Jessica and agonized over whether Edward would really be listening to what I said through the medium of Jess's thoughts. How very inconvenient his little talent could be — when it wasn't saving my life. The fog had almost dissolved by the end of the second hour, but the day was still dark with low, oppressing clouds. I smiled up at the sky. Edward was right, of course. When I walked into Trig Jessica was sitting in the back row, nearly bouncing off her seat in agitation. I reluctantly went to sit by her, trying to convince myself it would be better to get it over with as soon as possible. "Tell me everything!" she commanded before I was in the seat. "What do you want to know?" I hedged. "What happened last night?" "He bought me dinner, and then he drove me home." She glared at me, her expression stiff with skepticism. "How did you get home so fast?" "He drives like a maniac. It was terrifying." I hoped he heard that. "Was it like a date — did you tell him to meet you there?" I hadn't thought of that. "No — I was very surprised to see him there." Her lips puckered in disappointment at the transparent honesty in my voice. "But he picked you up for school today?" she probed. "Yes — that was a surprise, too. He noticed I didn't have a jacket last night," I explained. "So are you going out again?" "He offered to drive me to Seattle Saturday because he thinks toy truck isn't up to it — does that count?" "Yes." She nodded. "Well, then, yes." "W-o-w." She exaggerated the word into three syllables. "Edward Cullen." "I know," I agreed. "Wow" didn't even cover it. "Wait!" Her hands flew up, palms toward me like she was stopping traffic. "Has he kissed you?" "No," I mumbled. "It's not like that." She looked disappointed. I'm sure I did, too. "Do you think Saturday… ?" She raised her eyebrows. "I really doubt it." The discontent in my voice was poorly disguised. "What did you talk about?" She pushed for more information in a whisper. Class had started but Mr. Varner wasn't paying close attention and we weren't the only ones still talking. "I don't know, Jess, lots of stuff," I whispered back. "We talked about the English essay a little." A very, very little. I think he mentioned it in passing. "Please, Bella," she begged. "Give me some details." "Well… okay, I've got one. You should have seen the waitress flirting with him — it was over the top. But he didn't pay any attention to her at all." Let him make what he could of that. "That's a good sign," she nodded. "Was she pretty?" "Very — and probably nineteen or twenty." "Even better. He must like you." "I think so, but it's hard to tell. He's always so cryptic," I threw in for his benefit, sighing. "I don't know how you're brave enough to be alone with him," she breathed. "Why?" I was shocked, but she didn't understand my reaction. "He's so… intimidating. I wouldn't know what to say to him." She made a face, probably remembering this morning or last night, when he'd turned the overwhelming force of his eyes on her. "I do have some trouble with incoherency when I'm around him," I admitted. "Oh well. He is unbelievably gorgeous." Jessica shrugged as if this excused any flaws. Which, in her book, it probably did. "There's a lot more to him than that." "Really? Like what?" I wished I had let it go. Almost as much as I was hoping he'd been kidding about listening in. "I can't explain it right… but he's even more unbelievable behind the face." The vampire who wanted to be good — who ran around saving people's lives so he wouldn't be a monster… I stared toward the front of the room. "Is that possible?" She giggled. I ignored her, trying to look like I was paying attention to Mr. Varner. "So you like him, then?" She wasn't about to give up. "Yes," I said curtly. "I mean, do you really like him?" she urged. "Yes," I said again, blushing. I hoped that detail wouldn't register in her thoughts. She'd had enough with the single syllable answers. "How much do you like
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