I WAS NINETY-NINE POINT NINE PERCENT SURE I WAS dreaming.
The reasons I was so certain were that, first, I was standing in a bright shaft of sunlight—the kind ofblinding clear sun that never shone on my drizzly new hometown in Forks, Washington—and second, Iwas looking at my Grandma Marie. Gran had been dead for six years now, so that was solid evidencetoward the dream theory.
Gran hadn't changed much; her face looked just the same as I remembered it. The skin was soft andwithered, bent into a thousand tiny creases that clung gently to the bone underneath. Like a dried apricot,but with a puff of thick white hair standing out in a cloud around it.
Our mouths—hers a wizened picker—spread into the same surprised half-smile at just the same time.
Apparently, she hadn't been expecting to see me, either.
I was about to ask her a question; I had so many—What was she doing here in my cream? What had she been up to in the past six years? Was Pop okay, and had they found each other, wherever theywere?—but she opened her mouth when I did, so I stopped to let her go first. She paused, too, and thenwe Goth smiled at the little awkwardness.
Bella!"It wasn't Gran who called my name, and we both turned to see the addition to our small reunion. I didn'thave to look to know who it was; this was a voice I would know anywhere—know, and respond to,whether I was awake or asleep… or even dead, I'd bet. The voice I'd walk through fire for—or, lessdramatically, slosh every day through the cold and endless rain for.
Edward.
Even though I was always thrilled to see him—conscious or otherwise—and even though I was almostpositive that I was dreaming, I panicked as Edward walked toward us through the glaring sunlight.
I panicked because Gran didn't know that I was in love with a vampire—nobody knew that—so howwas I supposed to explain the fact that the brilliant sunbeams were shattering off his skin into a thousandrainbow shards like he was made of crystal or diamond
Well, Gran, yon might have noticed that my boyfriend glitters. It's just something he does in thesun. Don't worry about it…What was he doing? The whole reason he lived in Forks, the rainiest place in the world, was so that hecould be outside in the daytime without exposing his family's secret. Yet here he was, strolling gracefullytoward me—with the most beautiful smile on his angel's face—as if I were the only one here.
In that second, I wished that I was not the one exception to his mysterious talent; I usually felt gratefulthat I was the only person whose thoughts he couldn't hear just as clearly as if they were spoken aloud.
But now I wished he could hear me, too, so that he could hear the warning I was screaming in my head.
I shot a panicked glance back at Gran, and saw that it was too late. She was just turning to stare back atme, her eyes as alarmed as mine.
Edward—still smiling so beautifully that my heart felt like it was going to swell up and burst through mychest—put his arm around my shoulder and turned to face my grandmother.
Gran's expression surprised me. Instead of looking horrified, she was staring at me sheepishly, as ifwaiting for a scolding. And she was standing in such a strange position—one arm held awkwardly awayfrom her body, stretched out and then curled around the air. Like she had her arm around someone Icouldn't see, someone invisible…Only then, as I looked at the bigger picture, did I notice the huge gilt frame that enclosed mygrandmother's form. Uncomprehending, I raised the hand that wasn't wrapped around Edward's waistand reached out to touch her. She mimicked the movement exactly, mirrored it. But where our fingersshould have met, there was nothing but cold glass…With a dizzying jolt, my dream abruptly became a nightmare.
There was no Gran.
That was me. Me in a mirror. Me—ancient, creased, and withered.
Edward stood beside me, casting no reflection, excruciatingly lovely and forever seventeen.
He pressed his icy, perfect lips against my wasted cheek.
Happy birthday," he whispered.
I woke with a start—my eyelids popping open wide—and gasped. Dull gray light, the familiar light of anovercast morning, took the place of the blinding sun in my dream.
Just a dream, I told myself. It was only a dream. I took a deep breath, and then jumped again whenmy alarm went off. The little calendar in the corner of the clock's display informed me that today wasSeptember thirteenth.
Only a dream, but prophetic enough in one way, at least. Today was my birthday. I was officiallyeighteen years old.
I'd been dreading this day for months.
All through the perfect summer—the happiest summer I had ever had, the happiest summer anyoneanywhere had ever had, and the rainiest summer in the history of the Olympic Peninsula—this bleak datehad lurked in ambush, waiting to spring.
And now that it had hit, it was even worse than I'd feared it would be. I could feel it—I was older. Everyday I got older, but this was different, worse, quantifiable. I was eighteen.
And Edward never would be.
When I went to brush my teeth, I was almost surprised that the face in the mirror hadn't changed. I staredat myself, looking for some sign of impending wrinkles in my ivory skin. The only creases were the oneson my forehead, though, and I knew that if I could manage to relax, they would disappear. I couldn't. Myeyebrows stayed lodged in a worried line over my anxious brown eyes.
It was just a dream, I reminded myself again. Just a dream… but also my worst nightmare.
I skipped breakfast, in a hurry to get out of the house as quickly as possible. I wasn't entirely able toavoid my dad, and so I had to spend a few minutes acting cheerful. I honestly tried to be excited aboutthe gifts I'd asked him not to get me, but every time I had to smile, it felt like I might start crying.
I struggled to get a grip on myself as I drove to school. The vision of Gran—I would not think of it asme—was hard to get out of my head. I couldn't feel anything but despair until I pulled into the familiarparking lot behind Forks High School and spotted Edward leaning motionlessly against his polished silverVolvo, like a marble tribute to some forgotten pagan god of beauty. The dream had not done him justice.
And he was waiting there for me, just the same as every other day.
Despair momentarily vanished; wonder took its place. Even after half a year with him, I still couldn'tbelieve that I deserved this degree of good fortune.
His sister Alice was standing by his side, waiting for me, too.
Of course Edward and Alice weren't really related (in Forks the story was that all the Cullen siblingswere adopted by Dr. Carlisle Culler and his wife, Esme, both plainly too young to have teenage children),but their skin was precisely the same pale shade, their eyes had the same strange golden tint, with thesame deep, bruise-like shadows beneath them. Her face, like his, was also startlingly beautiful. Tosomeone in the know—someone like me—these similarities marked them for what they were.
The sight of Alice waiting there—her tawny eyes brilliant with excitement, and a small silver-wrappedsquare in her hands—made me frown. I'd told Alice I didn't want anything, anything, not gifts or evenattention, for my birthday. Obviously, my wishes were being ignored.
I slammed the door of my '53 Chevy truck—a shower of rust specks fluttered down to the wetblacktop—and walked slowly toward where they waited. Alice skipped forward to meet me, her pixieface glowing under her spiky black hair.
Happy birthday, Bella!""Shh!" I hissed, glancing around the lot to make sure no one had heard her. The last thing I wanted wassome kind of celebration of the black event.
She ignored me. "Do you want to open your present now or later?" she asked eagerly as we made ourway to where Edward still waited.
No presents," I protested in a mumble.
She finally seemed to process my mood. "Okay… later, then. Did you like the scrapbook your mom sentyou? And the camera from Charlie?"I sighed. Of course she would know what my birthday presents were. Edward wasn't the only memberof his family with unusual skills. Alice would have "seen" what my parents were planning as soon as they'ddecided that themselves.
Yeah. They're great.""I think it's a nice idea. You're only a senior once. Might as well document the experience.""How many times have you been a senior?""That's different."We reached Edward then, and he held out his hand for mine. I took it eagerly, forgetting, for a moment,my glum mood. His skin was, as always, smooth, hard, and very cold. He gave my fingers a gentlesqueeze. I looked into his liquid topa2 eyes, and my heart gave a not-quite-so-gentle squeeze of its own.
Hearing the stutter in my heartbeats, he smiled again.
He lifted his free hand and traced one cool fingertip around the outside of my lips as he spoke. "So, asdiscussed, I am not allowed to wish you a happy birthday, is that correct?""Yes. That is correct." I could never quite mimic the flow of his perfect, formal articulation. It wassomething that could only be picked up in an earlier century.
Just checking." He ran his hand through his tousled bronze hair. "You might have changed your mind.
Most people seem to enjoy things like birthdays and gifts."Alice laughed, and the sound was all silver, a wind chime. "Of course you'll enjoy it. Everyone issupposed to be nice to you today and give you your way, Bella. What's the worst that could happen?"She meant it as a rhetorical question.
Getting older," I answered anyway, and my voice was not as steady as I wanted it to be.
Beside me, Edward's smile tightened into a hard line.
Eighteen isn't very old," Alice said. "Don't women usually wait till they're twenty-nine to get upset overbirthdays?""It's older than Edward," I mumbled.
He sighed.
Technically," she said, keeping her tone light. "Just by one little year, though."And I supposed… if I could be sure of the future I wanted, sure that I would get to spend forever withEdward, and Alice and the rest of the Cullens (preferably not as a wrinkled little old lady)… then a yearor two one direction or the other wouldn't matter to me so much. But Edward was dead set against anyfuture that changed me. Any future that made me like him—that made me immortal, too.
An impasse, he called it.
I couldn't really see Edward's point, to be honest. What was so great about mortality? Being a vampiredidn't look like such a terrible thing—not the way the Cullens did it, anyway.
What time will you be at the house?" Alice continued, changing the subject. From her expression, shewas up to exactly the kind of thing I'd been hoping to avoid.
I didn't know I had plans to be there.""Oh, be fair, Bella!" she complained. "You aren't going to ruin all our fun like that, are you?""I thought my birthday was about what I want.""I'll get her from Charlie's right after school," Edward told her, ignoring me altogether.
I have to work," I protested.
You don't, actually," Alice told me smugly. "I already spoke to Mrs. Newton about it. She's trading yourshifts. She said to tell you 'Happy Birthday.'""I—I still can't come over," I stammered, scrambling for an excuse. "I, well, I haven't watched Romeoand Juliet yet for English."Alice snorted. "You have Romeo and Juliet memorized.""But Mr. Berty said we needed to see it performed to fully appreciate it—that's how Shakespeareintended it to be presented."Edward rolled his eyes.
You've already seen the movie," Alice accused.
But not the nineteen-sixties version. Mr. Berty said it was the best."Finally, Alice lost the smug smile and glared at me. "This can be easy, or this can be hard, Bella, but oneway or the other—"Edward interrupted her threat. "Relax, Alice. If Bella wants to watch a movie, then she can. It's herbirthday.""So there," I added.
I'll bring her over around seven," he continued. "That will give you more time to set up."Alice's laughter chimed again. "Sounds good. See you tonight, Bella! It'll be fun, you'll see." Shegrinned—the wide smile exposed all her perfect, glistening teeth—then pecked me on the cheek anddanced off toward her first class before I could respond.
Edward, please—" I started to beg, but he pressed one cool finger to my lips.
Let's discuss it later. We're going to be late for class."No one bothered to stare at us as we took our usual seats in the back of the classroom (we had almostevery class together now—it was amazing the favors Edward could get the female administrators to dofor him). Edward and I had been together too long now to be an object of gossip anymore. Even MikeNewton didn't bother to give me the glum stare that used to make me feel a little guilty. He smiled nowinstead, and I was glad he seemed to have accepted that we could only be friends. Mike had changedover the summer—his face had lost some of the roundness, making his cheekbones more prominent, andhe was wearing his pale blond hair a new way; instead of bristly, it was longer and gelled into a carefullycasual disarray. It was easy to see where his inspiration came from—but Edward's look wasn'tsomething that could be achieved through imitation.
As the day progressed, I considered ways to get out of whatever was going down at the Cullen housetonight. It would be bad enough to have to celebrate when I was in the mood to mourn. But, worse thanthat, this was sure to involve attention and gifts.
Attention is never a good thing, as any other accident-prone klutz would agree. No one wants a spotlightwhen they're likely to fall on their face.
And I'd very pointedly asked—well, ordered really—that no one give me any presents this year. Itlooked like Charlie and Renee weren't the only ones who had decided to overlook that.
I'd never had much money, and that had never bothered me. Renee had raised me on a kindergartenteacher's salary. Charlie wasn't getting rich at his job, either—he was the police chief here in the tiny townof Forks. My only personal income came from the three days a week I worked at the local sportinggoods store. In a town this small, I was lucky to have a job. Every penny I made went into mymicroscopic college fund. (College was Plan B. I was still hoping for Plan A, but Edward was just sostubborn about leaving me human…)Edward had a lot of money—I didn't even want to think about how much. Money meant next to nothingto Edward or the rest of the Cullens. It was just something that accumulated when you had unlimited timeon your hands and a sister who had an uncanny ability to predict trends in the stock market. Edwarddidn't seem to understand why I objected to him spending money on me—why it made meuncomfortable if he took me to an expensive restaurant in Seattle, why he wasn't allowed to buy me a carthat could reach speeds over fifty-five miles an hour, or why I wouldn't let him pay my college tuition (hewas ridiculously enthusiastic about Plan B). Edward thought I was being unnecessarily difficult.
But how could I let him give me things when I had nothing to reciprocate with? He, for someunfathomable reason, wanted to be with me. Anything he gave me on top of that just threw us more outof balance.
As the day went on, neither Edward nor Alice brought my birthday up again, and I began to relax a little.
We sat at our usual table for lunch.
A strange kind of truce existed at that table. The three of us—Edward, Alice, and I—sat on the extremesouthern end of the table. Now that the "older" and somewhat scarier (in Emmett's case, certainly) Cullensiblings had graduated, Alice and Edward did not seem quite so intimidating, and we did not sit herealone. My other friends, Mike and Jessica (who were in the awkward post-breakup friendship phase),Angela and Ben (whose relationship had survived the summer), Eric, Conner, Tyler, and Lauren (thoughthat last one didn't really count in the friend category) all sat at the same table, on the other side of aninvisible line. That line dissolved on sunny days when Edward and Alice always skipped school, and thenthe conversation would swell out effortlessly to include me.
Edward and Alice didn't find this minor ostracism odd or hurtful the way I would have. They barelynoticed it. People always felt strangely ill at ease with the Cullens, almost afraid for some reason theycouldn't explain to themselves. I was a rare exception to that rule. Sometimes it bothered Edward howvery comfortable I was with being close to him. He thought he was hazardous to my health—an opinion Irejected vehemently whenever he voiced it.
The afternoon passed quickly. School ended, and Edward walked me to my truck as he usually did. Butthis time, he held the passenger door open for me. Alice must have been taking his car home so that hecould keep me from making a run for it.
I folded my arms and made no move to get out of the rain. "It's my birthday, don't I get to drive?""I'm pretending it's not your birthday, just as you wished.""If it's not my birthday, then I don't have to go to your house tonight…""All right." He shut the passenger door and walked past me to open the driver's side. "Happy birthday.""Shh," I shushed him halfheartedly. I climbed in the opened door, wishing he'd taken the other offer.
Edward played with the radio while I drove, shaking his head in disapproval.
Your radio has horrible reception."I frowned. I didn't like it when he picked on my truck. The truck was great—it had personality.
You want a nice stereo? Drive your own car." I was so nervous about Alice's plans, on top of myalready gloomy mood, that the words came out sharper than I'd meant them. I was hardly everbad-tempered with Edward, and my tone made him press his lips together to keep from smiling.
When I parked in front of Charlie's house, he reached over to take my face in his hands. He handled mevery carefully, pressing just the tips of his fingers softly against my temples, my cheekbones, my jawline.
Like I was especially breakable. Which was exactly the case—compared with him, at least.
You should be in a good mood, today of all days," he whispered. His sweet breath fanned across myface.
And if I don't want to be in a good mood?" I asked, my breathing uneven.
His golden eyes smoldered. "Too bad."My head was already spinning by the time he leaned closer and pressed his icy lips against mine. As heintended, no doubt, I forgot all about my worries, and concentrated on remembering how to inhale andexhale.
His mouth lingered on mine, cold and smooth and gentle, until I wrapped my arms around his neck andthrew myself into the kiss with a little too much enthusiasm. I could feel his lips curve upward as he let goof my face and reached back to unlock my grip on him.
Edward had drawn many careful lines for our physical relationship, with the intent being to keep me alive.
Though I respected the need for maintaining a safe distance between my skin and his razor-sharp,venom-coated teeth, I tended to forget about trivial things like that when he was kissing me.
Be good, please," he breathed against my cheek. He pressed his lips gently to mine one more time andthen pulled away, folding my arms across my stomach.
My pulse was thudding in my ears. I put one hand over my heart. It drummed hyperactively under mypalm.
Do you think I'll ever get better at this?" I wondered, mostly to myself. "That my heart might somedaystop trying to jump out of my chest whenever you touch me?""I really hope not," he said, a bit smug.
I rolled my eyes. "Let's go watch the Capulets and Montagues hack each other up, all right?""Your wish, my command."Edward sprawled across the couch while I started the movie, fast-forwarding through the openingcredits.
When I perched on the edge of the sofa in front of him, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulledme against his chest. It wasn't exactly as comfortable as a sofa cushion would be, what with his chestbeing hard and cold—and perfect—as an ice sculpture, but it was definitely preferable. He pulled the oldafghan off the back of the couch and draped it over me so I wouldn't freeze beside his body.
You know, I've never had much patience with Romeo," he commented as the movie started.
What's wrong with Romeo?" I asked, a little offended. Romeo was one of my favorite fictionalcharacters. Until I'd met Edward, I'd sort of had a thing for him.
Well, first of all, he's in love with this Rosaline—don't you think it makes him seem a little fickle? Andthen, a few minutes after their wedding, he kills Juliet's cousin. That's not very brilliant. Mistake aftermistake. Could he have destroyed his own happiness any more thoroughly?"I sighed. "Do you want me to watch this alone?""No, I'll mostly be watching you, anyway." His fingers traced patterns across the skin of my arm, raisinggoose bumps. "Will you cry?""Probably," I admitted, "if I'm paying attention.""I won't distract you then." But I felt his lips on my hair, and it was very distracting.
The movie eventually captured my interest, thanks in large part to Edward whispering Romeo's lines inmy ear—his irresistible, velvet voice made the actor's voice sound weak and coarse by comparison. AndI did cry, to his amusement, when Juliet woke and found her new husband dead.
I'll admit, I do sort of envy him here," Edward said, drying the tears with a lock of my hair.
She's very pretty."He made a disgusted sound. "I don't envy him the girl—just the ease of the suicide," he clarified in ateasing tone. "You humans have it so easy! All you have to do is throw down one tiny vial of plantextracts…""What?" I gasped.
It's something I had to think about once, and I knew from Carlisle's experience that it wouldn't besimple. I'm not even sure how many ways Carlisle tried to kill himself in the beginning… after he realizedwhat he'd become…" His voice, which had grown serious, turned light again. "And he's clearly still inexcellent health."I twisted around so that I could read his face. "What are you talking about?" I demanded. "What do youmean, this something you had to think about once?""Last spring, when you were… nearly killed…" He paused to take a deep breath, snuggling to return tohis teasing tone. "Of course I was trying to focus on finding you alive, but part of my mind was makingcontingency plans. Like I said, it's not as easy for me as it is for a human."For one second, the memory of my last trip to Phoenix washed through my head and made me feel dizzy.
I could see it all so clearly—the blinding sun, the heat waves coming off the concrete as I ran withdesperate haste to find the sadistic vampire who wanted to torture me to death. James, waiting in themirrored room with my mother as his hostage—or so I'd thought. I hadn't known it was all a ruse. Just asJames hadn't known that Edward was racing to save me; Edward made it in time, but it had been a closeone. Unthinkingly, my fingers traced the crescent-shaped scar on my hand that was always just a fewdegrees cooler than the rest of my skin.
I shook my head—as if I could shake away the bad memories—and tried to grasp what Edward meant.
My stomach plunged uncomfortably. "Contingency plans?" I repeated.
Well, I wasn't going to live without you." He rolled his eyes as if that fact were childishly obvious. "But Iwasn't sure how to do it—I knew Emmett and Jasper would never help… so I was thinking maybe Iwould go to Italy and do something to provoke the Volturi."I didn't want to believe he was serious, but his golden eyes were brooding, focused on something faraway in the distance as he contemplated ways to end his own life. Abruptly, I was furious.
What is a Volturi?" I demanded.
The Volturi are a family," he explained, his eyes still remote. "A very old, very powerful family of ourkind. They are the closest thing our world has to a royal family, I suppose. Carlisle lived with them brieflyin his early years, in Italy, before he settled in America—do you remember the story?""Of course I remember."I would never forget the first time I'd gone to his home, the huge white mansion buried deep in the forestbeside the river, or the room where Carlisle—Edward's father in so many real ways—kept a wall ofpaintings that illustrated his personal history. The most vivid, most wildly colorful canvas there, the largest,was from Carlisle's time in Italy. Of course I remembered the calm quartet of men, each with theexquisite face of a seraph, painted into the highest balcony overlooking the swirling mayhem of color.
Though the painting was centuries old, Carlisle—the blond angel—remained unchanged. And Iremembered the three others, Carlisle's early acquaintances. Edward had never used the name Volturi for the beautiful trio, two black-haired, one snow white. He'd called them Aro, Caius, and Marcus,nighttime patrons of the arts…"Anyway, you don't irritate the Volturi," Edward went on, interrupting ray reverie. "Not unless you wantto die—or whatever it is we do." His voice was so calm, it made him sound almost bored by theprospect.
My anger turned to horror. I took his marble face between my hands and held it very tightly.
You must never, never, never think of anything like that again!" I said. "No matter what might everhappen to me, you are not allowed to hurt yourself!""I'll never put you in danger again, so it's a moot point.""Put me in danger! I thought we'd established that all the bad luck is my fault?" I was getting angrier.
How dare you even think like that?" The idea of Edward ceasing to exist, even if I were dead, wasimpossiblypainful.
What would you do, if the situation were reversed?" he asked.
That's not the same thing."He didn't seem to understand the difference. He chuckled.
What if something did happen to you?" I blanched at the thought. "Would you want me to go offmyself?"A trace of pain touched his perfect features.
I guess I see your point… a little," he admitted. "But what would I do without you?""Whatever you were doing before I came along and complicated your existence."He sighed. "You make that sound so easy.""It should be. I'm not really that interesting."He was about to argue, but then he let it go. "Moot point," he reminded me. Abruptly, he pulled himselfup into a more formal posture, shifting me to the side so that we were no longer touching.
Charlie?" I guessed.
Edward smiled. After a moment, I heard the sound of the police cruiser pulling into the driveway. Ireached out and took his hand firmly. My dad could deal with that much.
Charlie came in with a pizza box in his hands.
Hey, kids." He grinned at me. "I thought you'd like a break from cooking and washing dishes for yourbirthday. Hungry?""Sure. Thanks, Dad."Charlie didn't comment on Edward's apparent lack of appetite. He was used to Edward passing ondinner.
Do you mind if I borrow Bella for the evening?" Edward asked when Charlie and I were done.
I looked at Charlie hopefully. Maybe he had some concept of birthdays as stay-at-home, familyaffairs—this was my first birthday with him, the first birthday since my mom, Renee, had remarried andgone to live in Florida, so I didn't know what he would expect.
That's fine—the Mariners are playing the Sox tonight," Charlie explained, and my hope disappeared.
So I won't be any kind of company… Here." He scooped up the camera he'd gotten me on Renee'ssuggestion (because I would need pictures to fill up my scrap-book), and threw it to me.
He ought to know better than that—I'd always been coordinationally challenged. The camera glanced offthe tip of my finger, and tumbled toward the floor. Edward snagged it before it could crash onto thelinoleum.
Nice save," Charlie noted. "If they're doing something fun at the Cullens' tonight, Bella, you should takesome pictures. You know how your mother gets—she'll be wanting to see the pictures faster than youcan take them.""Good idea, Charlie," Edward said, handing me the camera.
I turned the camera on Edward, and snapped the first picture. "It works.""That's good. Hey, say hi to Alice for me. She hasn't been over in a while." Charlie's mouth pulled downat one corner.
It's been three days, Dad," I reminded him. Charlie was crazy about Alice. He'd become attached lastspring when she'd helped me through my awkward convalescence; Charlie would be fore'ter grateful toher for saving him from the horror of an almost-adult daughter who needed help showering. "I'll tell her.""Okay. You kids have fun tonight." It was clearly a dismissal. Charlie was already edging toward theliving room and the TV.
Edward smiled, triumphant, and took my hand to pull me from the kitchen.
When we got to the truck, he opened the passenger door for me again, and this time I didn't argue. I stillhad a hard time finding the obscure turnoff to his house in the dark.
Edward drove north through Forks, visibly chafing at the speed limit enforced by my prehistoric Chevy.
The engine groaned even louder than usual as he pushed it over fifty.
Take it easy," I warned him.
You know what you would love? A nice little Audi coupe. Very quiet, lots of power…""There's nothing wrong with my truck. And speaking of expensive nonessentials, if you know what'sgood for you, you didn't spend any money on birthday presents.""Not a dime," he said virtuously.
Good.""Can you do me a favor?""That depends on what it is."He sighed, his lovely face serious. "Bella, the last real birthday any of us had was Emmett in 1935. Cut usa little slack, and don't be too difficult tonight. They're all very excited." It always startled me a little when he brought up things like that. "Fine, I'll behave.""I probably should warn you…""Please do.""When I say they're all excited… I do mean all of them.""Everyone?" I choked. "I thought Emmett and Rosalie were in Africa." The rest of Forks was under theimpression that the older Cullens had gone off to college this year, to Dartmouth, but I knew better.
Emmett wanted to be here.""But… Rosalie?""I know, Bella. Don't worry, she'll be on her best behavior."I didn't answer. Like I could just not worry, that easy. Unlike Alice, Edward's other "adopted" sister, thegolden blond and exquisite Rosalie, didn't like me much. Actually, the feeling was a little bit stronger thanjust dislike. As far as Rosalie was concerned, I was an unwelcome intruder into her family's secret life.
I felt horribly guilty about the present situation, guessing that Rosalie and Emmett's prolonged absencewas my fault, even as I furtively enjoyed not having to see her Emmett, Edward's playful bear of abrother, I did miss. He was in many ways just like the big brother I'd always wanted… only much, muchmore terrifying.
Edward decided to change the subject. "So, if you won't let me get you the Audi, isn't there anything thatyou'd like for your birthday?"The words came out in a whisper. "You know what I want."A deep frown carved creases into his marble forehead. He obviously wished he'd stuck to the subject ofRosalie.
It felt like we'd had this argument a lot today.
Not tonight, Bella. Please.""Well, maybe Alice will give me what I want."Edward growled—a deep, menacing sound. "This isn't going to be your last birthday, Bella," he vowed.
That's not fair!"I thought I heard his teeth clench together.
We were pulling up to the house now. Bright light shined from every window on the first two floors. Along line of glowing Japanese lanterns hung from the porch eaves, reflecting a soft radiance on the hugecedars that surrounded the house. Big bowls of flowers—pink roses—lined the wide stairs up to thefront doors.
I moaned.
Edward took a few deep breaths to calm himself. "This is a party," he reminded me. "Try to be a goodsport." "Sure," I muttered.
He came around to get my door, and offered me his hand.
I have a question."He waited warily.
If I develop this film," I said, toying with the camera in my hands, "will you show up in the picture?"Edward started laughing. He helped me out of the car, pulled me up the stairs, and was still laughing as heopened the door for me.
They were all waiting in the huge white living room; when I walked through the door, they greeted mewith a loud chorus of "Happy birthday, Bella!" while I blushed and looked down. Alice, I assumed, hadcovered every flat surface with pink candles and dozens of crystal bowls filled with hundreds of roses.
There was a table with a white cloth draped over it next to Edward's grand piano, holding a pink birthdaycake, more roses, a stack of glass plates, and a small pile of silver-wrapped presents.
It was a hundred times worse than I'd imagined.
Edward, sensing my distress, wrapped an encouraging arm around my waist and kissed the top of myhead.
Edward's parents, Carlisle and Esme—impossibly youthful and lovely as ever—were the closest to thedoor. Esme hugged me carefully, her soft, caramel-colored hair brushing against my cheek as she kissedmy forehead, and then Carlisle put his arm around my shoulders.
Sorry about this, Bella," he stage-whispered. "We couldn't rein Alice in."Rosalie and Emmett stood behind them. Rosalie didn't smile, but at least she didn't glare. Emmett's facewas stretched into a huge grin. It had been months since I'd seen them; I'd forgotten how gloriouslybeautiful Rosalie was—it almost hurt to look at her. And had Emmett always been so… big
You haven't changed at all," Emmett said with mock disappointment. "I expected a perceptibledifference, but here you are, red-faced just like always.""Thanks a lot, Emmett," I said, blushing deeper.
He laughed, "I have to step out for a second"—he paused to wink conspicuously at Alice—"Don't doanything funny while I'm gone.""I'lltry."Alice let go of Jasper's hand and skipped forward, all her teeth sparkling in the bright light. Jasper smiled,too, but kept his distance. He leaned, long and blond, against the post at the foot of the stairs. During thedays we'd had to spend cooped up together in Phoenix, I'd thought he'd gotten over his aversion to me.
But he'd gone back to exactly how he'd acted before—avoiding me as much as possible—the momenthe was free from that temporary obligation to protect me. I knew it wasn't personal, just a precaution,and I tried not to be overly sensitive about it. Jasper had more trouble sticking to the Cullens' diet thanthe rest of them; the scent of human blood was much harder for him to resist than the others—he hadn'tbeen trying as long.
Time to open presents," Alice declared. She put her cool hand under my elbow and towed me to the table with the cake and the shiny packages.
I put on my best martyr face. "Alice, I know I told you I didn't want anything—""But I didn't listen," she interrupted, smug. "Open it." She took the camera from my hands and replaced itwith a big, square silver box.
The box was so light that it felt empty. The tag on top said that it was from Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper.
Selfconsciously, I tore the paper off and then stared at the box it concealed.
It was something electrical, with lots of numbers in the name. I opened the box, hoping for furtherillumination. But the box was empty.
Um… thanks."Rosalie actually cracked a smile. Jasper laughed. "It's a stereo for your truck," he explained. "Emmett'sinstalling it right now so that you can't return it."Alice was always one step ahead of me. "Thanks, Jasper, Rosalie," I told them, grinning as I rememberedEdward's complaints about my radio this afternoon—all a setup, apparently. "Thanks, Emmett!" I calledmore loudly.
I heard his booming laugh from my truck, and I couldn't help laughing, too.
Open mine and Edward's next," Alice said, so excited her voice was a high-pitched trill. She held asmall, flat square in her hand.
I turned to give Edward a basilisk glare. "You promised."Before he could answer, Emmett bounded through the door. "Just in time!" he crowed. He pushed inbehind Jasper, who had also drifted closer than usual to get a good look.
I didn't spend a dime," Edward assured me. He brushed a strand of hair from my face, leaving my skintingling from his touch.
I inhaled deeply and turned to Alice. "Give it to me," I sighed.
Emmett chuckled with delight.
I took the little package, rolling my eyes at Edward while I stuck my finger under the edge of the paperand jerked it under the tape.
Shoot," I muttered when the paper sliced my finger; I pulled it out to examine the damage. A single dropof blood oozed from the tiny cut.
It all happened very quickly then.
No!" Edward roared.
He threw himself at me, flinging me back across the table. It fell, as I did, scattering the cake and thepresents, the flowers and the plates. I landed in the mess of shattered crystal.
Jasper slammed into Edward, and the sound was like the crash of boulders in a rock slide.
There was another noise, a grisly snarling that seemed to be coming from deep in Jasper's chest. Jasper tried to shove past Edward, snapping his teeth just inches from Edward's face.
Emmett grabbed Jasper from behind in the next second, locking him into his massive steel grip, butJasper struggled on, his wild, empty eyes focused only on me.
Beyond the shock, there was also pain. I'd tumbled down to the floor by the piano, with my arms thrownout instinctively to catch my fall, into the jagged shards of glass. Only now did I feel the searing, stingingpain that ran from my wrist to the crease inside my elbow.
Dazed and disoriented, I looked up from the bright red blood pulsing out of my arm—into the feveredeyes of the six suddenly ravenous vampires.
B