"Shoot, shoot shoot," I muttered under my breath, snapping my fingers. I had looked everywhere, but the glossy satin heels I had planned to wear for the wedding were no longer in my closet. What was I going to do? I was getting married in less than 48 hours, and it was looking as though I might have to walk down the aisle barefoot. I poked my head out the door to see the two statues sitting on my bed.
"Alice! Edward!" I called.
Their eyes met mine, shining yellow in the dim setting sun. The sweet smell of summer cascaded into the room from the open window, along with the chirping of cicadas. The August haze had settled deep into everyone except me, apparently.
"What's wrong?" chimed Alice, getting up to join me in the closet.
"My white shoes…have you seen them anywhere?" I asked anxiously. As I expected, Alice freaked.
"Oh, no!! Please don't tell me you lost the shoes! Oh no, I don't think I have any…" she said, mumbling to herself and wringing her hands.
"Relax, Alice, it's going to be okay. I'll just run up to Port Angeles and buy some new ones," I said, rubbing her marble arm. She rolled her eyes at me and stalked out of the closet, back to where her brother sat.
"I'll come with you," intoned Edward from the bed. My heart lifted and the sight of his perfectly chiseled face smiling in my direction. I was overwhelmed by a sense of annoyance that wished Alice wasn't in the room right now.
It was right then that the dulcet tones of the main theme from The Phantom of the Opera filled the room. Edward glanced down at his cell phone and flipped it open.
"Hello…Uh huh…uh huh…uh huh. Okay, bye." Edward looked at me apologetically, and then turned to his sister.
"That was Carlisle. He needs us to come home," he told her, and a knowing look passed between them. I felt a short spurt of anger because I knew I was missing something important.
"You'll be alright alone, won't you?" Alice asked, as if I were a small child.
"Of course. I think I can make it to Port Angeles by myself for a pair of shoes," I joked, pulling a black sweatshirt over my t-shirt. I slipped on a pair of sneakers and prepared to leave. Edward crossed the room, quiet as a spirit, and for a fleeting moment his icy lips pressed against mine. A shiver ran down the length o f my spine, but not from the cold.
"See you later tonight," he whispered in my ear, and then the pair of them was gone, just like my flighty pair of white pumps. I followed them down the stairs, but by the time I reached the landing they were already out of the house. Feeling slightly apathetic, I made my way into the living room, where Charlie was laying on the couch watching the Mariners game.
"I need to go to town to buy some shoes. I can't seem to find the ones I wanted to wear on Saturday," I told him, a purse already slung over one shoulder.
"That's fine, just be careful," he replied, barely ungluing his eyes from the television set. I rolled my eyes and swiftly kissed him on the cheek before striding out of the room. As I walked out of the front door to start the truck, I could faintly hear him inside calling "HOMERUN!!"
Now that I look back on it, I should have given him a lengthier goodbye. I should have hugged him and told him thank you, and that I loved him.
Because that was the last time I would ever see him.
Tired but happy, I strode quickly down the streets of Port Angeles towards my truck. The fruits of my labor, a pair of strappy white Steve Maddens, were nestled in a box under the crook of my arm. By now night had really fallen, and the dim streetlamps were all I had to see by.
An uncomfortable weight had settled in my stomach. I knew I was safe, yet I had this awful feeling.
An awful feeling that I was being followed.
I threw a glance over my shoulder, but no one was there. The street was empty except for me. Gingerly, I continued to put one foot in front of the other. Every step felt like a million pounds, like the weight in my stomach was dragging me into the earth. Every nerve in my body was screaming at me to run, to flee.
Again, I stopped dead in my tracks and whirled around. Again, the street was empty, but my fears were not nearly quelled. I stood there shaking.
The blood was pounding in my ears like the beating of a drum, pouring through my body and crazing me with adrenaline. And I was sure, even though he hid in the shadows, he could hear it. I was sure his breathing was keeping time with my heart. And I was sure it was driving him crazy.
With a shudder, the streetlamp next to me, and all along the road, flickered out.
My heart was beating a million miles and hour as I sprinted down the sidewalk. A flash of red. I could see my truck at the far end of the street, and the sight of it made my heart relax a little.
And then I felt the cold hands grasp my shoulders, whipping me around to face the creature that had me in its icy grasp.
A scream had barely left my lips when a chilly hand clamped over my mouth silenced me, and I was bizarrely reminded of Edward, and how his cold lips felt against mine. In terror, I gazed up and the pallid face of my attacker, and as long as I live I don't ever think I will forget the features that will forever burn into my eyelids whenever they are closed.
He had a long, thin nose, and dark hair that spilled lazily over his beautiful face. He was young, maybe in his twenties. And the eyes; the eyes burned coal black. Hungry.
I knew it was no use to struggle. His grip on me was firm as it was cold, and I was no match for his superhuman strength. A single tear rolled down my cheek. This was not how it was supposed to be. He was not supposed to be the one to do this.
I was not supposed to die.
My tears were cause for his smile, and he whispered one word before leaning into me, as if to give me a kiss.
"Sorry."
With that, he drew me in close, like a lover, and ran his face once down the length of my neck, as if savoring the smell, as if testing an old wine. He sighed in pleasure.
Then he pressed his icy lips to the hollow of my neck.
