as weak as my knees already were, panic took over and I bolted for the
emergency door.
He was in front of me in a flash. I didn't see if he used his hand or his
foot, it was too fast. A crushing blow struck my chest — I felt myself
flying backward, and then heard the crunch as my head bashed into the
mirrors. The glass buckled, some of the pieces shattering and splintering
on the floor beside me.
I was too stunned to feel the pain. I couldn't breathe yet.
He walked toward me slowly.
"That's a very nice effect," he said, examining the mess of glass, his
voice friendly again. "I thought this room would be visually dramatic for
my little film. That's why I picked this place to meet you. It's perfect,
isn't it?"
I ignored him, scrambling on my hands and knees, crawling toward the
other door.
He was over me at once, his foot stepping down hard on my leg. I heard
the sickening snap before I felt it. But then I did feel it, and I
couldn't hold back my scream of agony. I twisted up to reach for my leg,
and he was standing over me, smiling.
"Would you like to rethink your last request?" he asked pleasantly. His
toe nudged my broken leg and I heard a piercing scream. With a shock, I
realized it was mine.
"Wouldn't you rather have Edward try to find me?" he prompted.
"No!" I croaked. "No, Edward, don't—" And then something smashed into my
face, throwing me back into the broken mirrors.
Over the pain of my leg, I felt the sharp rip across my scalp where the
glass cut into it. And then the warm wetness began to spread through my
hair with alarming speed. I could feel it soaking the shoulder of my
shirt, hear it dripping on the wood below. The smell of it twisted my
stomach.
Through the nausea and dizziness I saw something that gave me a sudden,
final shred of hope. His eyes, merely intent before, now burned with an
uncontrollable need. The blood — spreading crimson across my white shirt,
pooling rapidly on the floor — was driving him mad with thirst. No matter
his original intentions, he couldn't draw this out much longer.
Let it be quick now, was all I could hope as the flow of blood from my
head sucked my consciousness away with it. My eyes were closing.
I heard, as if from underwater, the final growl of the hunter. I could
see, through the long tunnels my eyes had become, his dark shape coming
toward me. With my last effort, my hand instinctively raised to protect
my face. My eyes closed, and I drifted.
===========================================================================
23. THE ANGEL
As I drifted, I dreamed.
Where I floated, under the dark water, I heard the happiest sound my mind
could conjure up — as beautiful, as uplifting, as it was ghastly. It was
another snarl; a deeper, wilder roar that rang with fury.
I was brought back, almost to the surface, by a sharp pain slashing my
upraised hand, but I couldn't find my way back far enough to open my eyes.
And then I knew I was dead.
Because, through the heavy water, I heard the sound of an angel calling
my name, calling me to the only heaven I wanted.
"Oh no, Bella, no!" the angel's voice cried in horror.
Behind that longed-for sound was another noise — an awful tumult that my
mind shied away from. A vicious bass growling, a shocking snapping sound,
and a high keening, suddenly breaking off…
I tried to concentrate on the angel's voice instead.
"Bella, please! Bella, listen to me, please, please, Bella, please!" he
begged.
Yes, I wanted to say. Anything. But I couldn't find my lips.
"Carlisle!" the angel called, agony in his perfect voice. "Bella, Bella,
no, oh please, no, no!" And the angel was sobbing tearless, broken sobs.
The angel shouldn't weep, it was wrong. I tried to find him, to tell him
everything was fine, but the water was so deep, it was pressing on me,
and I couldn't breathe.
There was a point of pressure against my head. It hurt. Then, as that
pain broke through the darkness to me, other pains came, stronger pains.
I cried out, gasping, breaking through the dark pool.
"Bella!" the angel cried.
"She's lost some blood, but the head wound isn't deep," a calm voice
informed me. "Watch out for her leg, it's broken."
A howl of rage strangled on the angel's lips.
I felt a sharp stab in my side. This couldn't be heaven, could it? There
was too much pain for that.
"Some ribs, too, I think," the methodical voice continued.
But the sharp pains were fading. There was a new pain, a scalding pain in
my hand that was overshadowing everything else.
Someone was burning me.
"Edward." I tried to tell him, but my voice was so heavy and slow. I
couldn't understand myself.
"Bella, you're going to be fine. Can you hear me, Bella? I love you."
"Edward," I tried again. My voice was a little clearer.
"Yes, I'm here."
"It hurts," I whimpered.
"I know, Bella, I know" — and then, away from me, anguished — "can't you
do anything?"
"My bag, please… Hold your breath, Alice, it will help," Carlisle
promised.
"Alice?" I groaned.
"She's here, she knew where to find you."
"My hand hurts," I tried to tell him.
"I know, Bella. Carlisle will give you something, it will stop."
"My hand is burning!" I screamed, finally breaking through the last of
the darkness, my eyes fluttering open. I couldn't see his face, something
dark and warm was clouding my eyes. Why couldn't they see the fire and
put it out?
His voice was frightened. "Bella?"
"The fire! Someone stop the fire!" I screamed as it burned me.
"Carlisle! Her hand!"
"He bit her." Carlisle's voice was no longer calm, it was appalled.
I heard Edward catch his breath in horror.
"Edward, you have to do it." It was Alice's voice, close by my head. Cool
fingers brushed at the wetness in my eyes.
"No!" he bellowed.
"Alice," I moaned.
"There may be a chance," Carlisle said.
"What?" Edward begged.
"See if you can suck the venom back out. The wound is fairly clean." As
Carlisle spoke, I could feel more pressure on my head, something poking
and pulling at my scalp. The pain of it was lost in the pain of the fire.
"Will that work?" Alice's voice was strained.
"I don't know," Carlisle said. "But we have to hurry."
"Carlisle, I…" Edward hesitated. "I don't know if I can do that." There
was agony in his beautiful voice again.
"It's your decision, Edward, either way. I can't help you. I have to get
this bleeding stopped here if you're going to be taking blood from her
hand."
I writhed in the grip of the fiery torture, the movement making the pain
in my leg flare sickeningly.
"Edward!" I screamed. I realized my eyes were closed again. I opened
them, desperate to find his face. And I found him. Finally, I could see
his perfect face, staring at me, twisted into a mask of indecision and
pain.
"Alice, get me something to brace her leg!" Carlisle was bent over me,
working on my head. "Edward, you must do it now, or it will be too late."
Edward's face was drawn. I watched his eyes as the doubt was suddenly
replaced with a blazing determination. His jaw tightened. I felt his
cool, strong fingers on my burning hand, locking it in place. Then his
head bent over it, and his cold lips pressed against my skin.
At first the pain was worse. I screamed and thrashed against the cool
hands that held me back. I heard Alice's voice, trying to calm me.
Something heavy held my leg to the floor, and Carlisle had my head locked
in the vise of his stone arms.
Then, slowly, my writhing calmed as my hand grew more and more numb. The
fire was dulling, focusing into an ever-smaller point.
I felt my consciousness slipping as the pain subsided. I was afraid to
fall into the black waters again, afraid I would lose him in the darkness.
"Edward," I tried to say, but I couldn't hear my voice. They could hear
me.
"He's right here, Bella."
"Stay, Edward, stay with me…"
"I will." His voice was strained, but somehow triumphant.
I sighed contentedly. The fire was gone, the other pains dulled by a
sleepiness seeping through my body.
"Is it all out?" Carlisle asked from somewhere far away.
"Her blood tastes clean," Edward said quietly. "I can taste the morphine."
"Bella?" Carlisle called to me.
I tried to answer. "Mmmmm?"
"Is the fire gone?"
"Yes," I sighed. "Thank you, Edward."
"I love you," he answered.
"I know," I breathed, so tired.
I heard my favorite sound in the world: Edward's quiet laugh, weak with
relief.
"Bella?" Carlisle asked again.
I frowned; I wanted to sleep. "What?"
"Where is your mother?"
"In Florida," I sighed. "He tricked me, Edward. He watched our videos."
The outrage in my voice was pitifully frail.
But that reminded me.
"Alice." I tried to open my eyes. "Alice, the video — he knew you, Alice,
he knew where you came from." I meant to speak urgently, but my voice was
feeble. "I smell gasoline," I added, surprised through the haze in my
brain.
"It's time to move her," Carlisle said.
"No, I want to sleep," I complained.
"You can sleep, sweetheart, I'll carry you," Edward soothed me.
And I was in his arms, cradled against his chest — floating, all the pain
gone.
"Sleep now, Bella" were the last words I heard.
===========================================================================
24. AN IMPASSE
My eyes opened to a bright, white light. I was in an unfamiliar room, a
white room. The wall beside me was covered in long vertical blinds; over
my head, the glaring lights blinded me. I was propped up on a hard,
uneven bed — a bed with rails. The pillows were flat and lumpy. There was
an annoying beeping sound somewhere close by. I hoped that meant I was
still alive. Death shouldn't be this uncomfortable.
My hands were all twisted up with clear tubes, and something was taped
across my face, under my nose. I lifted my hand to rip it off.
"No, you don't." And cool fingers caught my hand.
"Edward?" I turned my head slightly, and his exquisite face was just
inches from mine, his chin resting on the edge of my pillow. I realized
again that I was alive, this time with gratitude and elation. "Oh,
Edward, I'm so sorry!"
"Shhhh," he shushed me. "Everything's all right now."
"What happened?" I couldn't remember clearly, and my mind rebelled
against me as I tried to recall.
"I was almost too late. I could have been too late," he whispered, his
voice tormented.
"I was so stupid, Edward. I thought he had my mom."
"He tricked us all."
"I need to call Charlie and my mom," I realized through the haze.
"Alice called them. Renée is here — well, here in the hospital. She's
getting something to eat right now."
"She's here?" I tried to sit up, but the spinning in my head accelerated,
and his hand pushed me gently down onto the pillows.
"She'll be back soon," he promised. "And you need to stay still."
"But what did you tell her?" I panicked. I had no interest in being
soothed. My mom was here and I was recovering from a vampire attack. "Why
did you tell her I'm here?"
"You fell down two flights of stairs and through a window." He paused.
"You have to admit, it could happen."
I sighed, and it hurt. I stared down at my body under the sheet, the huge
lump that was my leg.
"How bad am I?" I asked.
"You have a broken leg, four broken ribs, some cracks in your skull,
bruises covering every inch of your skin, and you've lost a lot of blood.
They gave you a few transfusions. I didn't like it — it made you smell
all wrong for a while."
"That must have been a nice change for you."
"No, I like how you smell."
"How did you do it?" I asked quietly. He knew what I meant at once.
"I'm not sure." He looked away from my wondering eyes, lifting my
gauze-wrapped hand from the bed and holding it gently in his, careful not
to disrupt the wire connecting me to one of the monitors.
I waited patiently for the rest.
He sighed without returning my gaze. "It was impossible… to stop," he
whispered. "Impossible. But I did." He looked up finally, with half a
smile. "I must love you."
"Don't I taste as good as I smell?" I smiled in response. That hurt my
face.
"Even better — better than I'd imagined."
"I'm sorry," I apologized.
He raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Of all the things to apologize for."
"What should I apologize for?"
"For very nearly taking yourself away from me forever."
"I'm sorry," I apologized again.
"I know why you did it." His voice was comforting. "It was still
irrational, of course. You should have waited for me, you should have
told me."
"You wouldn't have let me go."
"No," he agreed in a grim tone, "I wouldn't."
