1. PARTY
I was ninety-nine point nine percent sure that I was dreaming.
The reasons I was so certain were that, first, I was standing in a bright shaft of sunlight-the kind of blinding clear sun that never shone of my drizzy new hometown in Forks, Washington-and second, I was looking at my Grandpa Mason. Gramps had died six years ago, so that pretty much answered my question.
Grandfather hadn't changed much; his face looked just the same as I remembered it. The skin was soft and withered, bent into a thousand tiny creases that clung gently to the bone underneath. Like a dried apricot, but with thick white hair standing out around it.
Our mouths-his a wizened pucker-spread into the same surprised half-smile at just the same time. Apparently, he hadn't been expecting to see me, either.
I was about to ask him a question; I had so many-What was he doing here in my dream? What had he been up to the last six years? Was Grandma okay, and had they found each other, wherever they were?-but he opened his mouth when I did, so I stopped to let him go first. He paused, too, and then we both smiled at the little awkwardness.
"Beau?"
It wasn't Gramps who called my name, and we both turned to see the addition to our small reunion. I didn't have 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 go to hell and back for- or, less dramatically, go every day dealing with the cold and endless rain for.
Edythe.
Even though I was always thrilled to see her-conscious or otherwise-and even though I was almost positive that I was dreaming. I panicked as Edythe walked toward us through the glaring sunlight.
I panicked because Gramps didn't know that I was in love with a vampire-nobody knew that-so how was I supposed to explain the fact that the brilliant sunbeams were shattering of her skin into a thousand rainbow shards like she was made of crystal or diamond?
Well, Gramps, you might have noticed that my girlfriend glitters. It's just one of the side affects of her allergic reaction to the sun. No big deal…
What was she doing? The whole reason she lived in Forks, the rainiest place in the world, was so that she could be outside in the daytime without exposing her family's secret. Yet here she was, strolling gracefully toward me-with the most beautiful smile on her angel's face-as if I were the only one here.
In that second, I wished that I was not the one exception to her mysterious talent; I usually felt grateful that I was the only person whose thoughts she couldn't hear just as clearly as if they were spoken aloud. But now I wished she could hear me, too, so that she could hear the warning I was screaming in my head.
I shot a panicked glance back at Gramps, and saw that it was too late. He was just turning to stare back at me, his eyes as alarmed as mine.
Edythe-still smiling so beautifully that my heart felt like it was going to swell up and burst through my chest-put her arms around my waist and then turned to face my grandfather.
Gramp's expression surprised me. Instead of looking horrified, he was staring at me nervously, as if waiting for a scolding. And he was standing in such a straight position-one arm held awkwardly away from his body, stretched out and then curled around the air. Like he had his arm around someone I couldn't see, someone invisible…
Only then, as I looked at the bigger picture, did I notice the huge gilt frame that enclosed my grandfather's form. Uncomprehending, I raised the hand that wasn't wrapped around Edythe's shoulder and reached out to touch her. He mimicked the movement exactly, mirrored it. But where our fingers should have met, there was nothing but cold glass…
With a dizzying jolt, my dream instantly became a nightmare.
There was no Gramps.
That was me. Me in a mirror. Me-ancient, creased, and withered.
Edythe stood beside me, casting no reflection, excruciatingly lovely and forever seventeen.
She pressed her icy, perfect lips against my wrinkled cheek.
"Happy birthday," she whispered.
I woke with a start-my eyelids popping open wide- and gasped. Dull gray light, the familiar light of an overcast 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 when my alarm went off. The little calendar in the corner of the clock's display informed me that today was September thirteenth.
Only a dream, but prophetic enough in one way, at least. Today was my birthday. I was officially eighteen years old.
I'd been dreading this day for months.
All though the perfect summer-the happiest summer I had ever had, the happiest summer anyone anywhere had ever had, and the rainiest summer in the history of the Olympic Peninsula-this bleak date had lurked in ambush, waiting to spring.
And now that it had his, it was even worse that I thought it would be. I could feel it-I was older. Every day I got older, but this was different. I was eighteen.
And Edythe would never be.
When I went to brush my teeth, I was almost surprised that the face in the mirror hadn't changed. I stared at myself, looking for some sign of impending wrinkles in my skin. The only creases were the ones on my forehead, though, and I knew that if I could manage to relax, they would disappear. I couldn't. My eyebrows stayed lodged in a worried line over my anxious brown eyes. It wasn't so much that I was just a year older than Edythe that I didn't like because that isn't that bad, but it's the fact that it marks a year closer to really getting old.
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 to avoid my dad, and so I had to spend a few minutes acting cheerful. I honestly tried to be excited about the gifts I'd asked him not to get me, but every time I had to smile, it felt like I might as well have started to cry.
I struggled to clear my thoughts, avoid thinking about my nightmare as I drove to school. The vision of Gramps-I would not think of it as me- was hard to get out of my head. I couldn't feel anything but despair until I pulled into the familiar parking lot behind Forks High School and spotted leaning motionless against her polished silver Volvo, like a marble tribute to some forgotten pagan goddess of beauty. The dream had not done her justice. And she 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 her, I still couldn't believe that I deserved this degree of good fortune.
Her brother Archie was standing by her side, waiting for me, too.
Of course Edythe and Archie weren't really related (in Forks the story was that all the Cullen siblings were adopted by Dr. Carine Cullen and her husband, Earnest, 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 the same deep, bruise-like shadows beneath them. His face, like hers, was also startlingly beautiful. To someone in the know-someone like me-these similarities marked them for what they were.
The sight of Archie waiting there-his eyes full of excitement, and a small silver-wrapped square in his hands-made me frown. I'd told Archie I didn't want anything, anything, not gifts or even attention, for my birthday. Obviously, my wishes were being ignored.
I slammed the door of my '53 Chevy truck-a shower fluttered down to the wet blacktop-and walked slowly toward where they waited. Archie leaned away from the Volvo and walked towards me.
"Happy birthday, Beau."
"Shhh." I hissed waving my hands from side to side, glancing around the lot to make sure no one had heard him. The last thing I wanted was some kind of celebration of the black event.
He ignored me. "You want to open your present now or later?" he asked eagerly as we made our way to where Edythe still waited.
"No presents," I protested in a mumble.
He finally seemed to process my mood.
"Okay… later, then. Did you like the scrapbook your mom sent you? And the camera from Charlie?"
I sighed. Of course he would know what my birthday presents were. Edythe wasn't the only member of her family with unusual skills. Archie would have "seen" what my parents were planning as soon as they'd decided that themselves.
"Yeah. They're fine."
"I think it was a good 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 Edythe then, and she held out her hand for mine. I took it eagerly, forgetting, for a moment, my grumpy mood. Her skin was, as always, smooth, soft, and very cold. She gave my fingers a gentle squeeze. I looked into her liquid topaz eyes, and my heart gave a not-quite-so-gentle squeeze of its own. Hearing the stutter in my heartbeats, she smiled again.
She lifted her free hand and traced her cool fingertips across my jawline as she spoke. "So, as discussed, 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 her perfect, formal articulation. It was something that could only be picked up in an earlier century.
"Just checking." She ran her hand through her tangled bronze hair. "You might have changed your mind. Most people seem to enjoy things like birthdays and gifts."
Archie laughed, and the sound was all silver, wind chime. "Of course you'll enjoy it. Everyone is supposed to be nice to you today and give you your way, Beau. What's the worst that could happen?" He 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, Edythe's smile tightened into a hard line.
"Eighteen isn't very old," Archie said. "Don't humans usually wait till they're twenty-nine to get upset over birthdays?"
"It's older that Edythe," I mumbled.
She sighed.
"Technically," he said, keeping a light tone. "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 with Edythe, and Archie and the rest of the Cullens (preferably not as a wrinkled old man)... then a year or two one direction or the other wouldn't matter to me so much. But Edythe was dead set against any future that changed me. Any future that made me like her-that made me immortal, too.
An impasse, she called it.
I couldn't really see Edythe's point, to be honest. What was so great about mortality? Being a vampire didn't look like such a terrible thing-not the way the Cullens did it, anyway.
"What time will you be at the house?" Archie continued, changing the subject. From his expression, they were up to something.
"I didn't know I had plans to be there."
"Oh, come on!" he 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 him from Charlie's right after school," Edythe told him, ignoring me altogether.
"I have to work," I protested.
"You don't, actually," Archie told me. "I already spoke to Mr. Newton about it. He's trading your shifts. He 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 Romeo and Juliet yet for English."
Archie chuckled. "You have Romeo and Juliet memorized."
"Not even close."
Edythe rolled her eyes.
"You've already seen the movie," Archie accused.
"But not the nineteen-sixties version. Mrs. Berty said it was the best."
Finally, Archie lost the grin on his face and glared at me. "This can be easy, or this can be hard, Beau, but one way or the other-"
Edythe interrupted his threat. "Relax, Arch. If Beau wants to watch the movie, then he can. It's his birthday."
"So there," I added.
"I'll bring him over around 7," she continued. "That will give all of you more than enough time to set up."
Archie's laughter chimed again. "Sounds good. See you tonight, Bud!" He grinned then patted me on the back and took off toward his class before I could respond.
"Edythe, please-" I started but she pressed one cool finger to my lips.
"We can talk about it later. We're going to be late to class."
No one bothered to stare at us as we took our usual seats in the back of the classroom (we had almost every class together now-it was amazing the favors Edythe could get the administrators to do for her). Edythe and I had been together too long now to be an object of gossip anymore. Even McKayla Newton didn't bother to give me the glum stare that used to make me feel really guilty. She smiled now instead, and I was glad she seemed to have accepted that we could only be friends.
As the day progressed, I considered ways to get out of whatever was going down at the Cullen house tonight. It would be bad enough to have to celebrate when I was in the mood to mourn. But, worse than that, this was sure to involve attention and gifts.
Attention is never a good thing for me. No one wants a spotlight when they're likely to fall on their face.
And I'd pointedly asked-well, ordered really-that no one give me any presents this year. It looked like Charlie and Renèe weren't the only ones who had decided to overlook that.
I'd never had much money, and that had never bothered me. Renèe had raised me on a kindergarten teacher's salary. Charlie wasn't getting rich at his job, either-he was the police chief here in the tiny town of Forks. My only personal income came from the three days a week I worked at the local sporting goods store. In a town this small, I was lucky to have a job. Every penny I made went into my microscopic college fund. (College was Plan B. I was still hoping for Plan A, but Edythe was just so stubborn about leaving me human…)
Edythe had a lot of money-I didn't even want to think about how much. Money meant next to nothing to Edythe or the rest of the Cullens. It was just something that accumulated when you had unlimited time on your hands and a brother who had an ability to predict trends in the stock market. Edythe didn't seem to understand why I objected to her spending money on me-why it made me uncomfortable if she took me to an expensive place to eat in Seattle, why she wasn't allowed to buy me a truck that could reach speeds over fifty-five miles an hour, or why I wouldn't let her pay my college tuition (she was ridiculously enthusiastic about Plan B). Edythe thought I was being unnecessarily difficult.
But how could I let her give me things when I had nothing to reciprocate with? She, for some unfathomable reason, wanted to be with me. Anything she gave me on top of that just threw us more out of balance.
As the day went on, neither Edythe nor Archie 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-Edythe, Archie, and I-sat on the extreme southern end of the table. Now that the "older" and somewhat scarier (in Eleanor's case, certainly) Cullen siblings had graduated, Archie and Edythe did not seem quite so intimidating, and we did not sit here alone. My other friends, McKayla and Jeremy (who were in the awkward post-breakup friendship phase), Allen and Becca (whose relationship had survived the summer ), Erica, Colleen, Taylor, and Logan (though that last one didn't really count in the friend category) all sat at the same table, on the other side of an invisible line. That line dissolved on sunny days when Edythe and Archie always skipped school, and then the conversation would swell out effortlessly to include me.
Edythe and Archie didn't find this minor ostracism odd or hurtful the way I would have. They barely noticed it. People always felt strangely ill at ease with the Cullens, almost afraid for some reason they couldn't explain to themselves. I was a rare exception to that rule. Sometimes it bothered Edythe how very comfortable I was with being close to her. She thought she was hazardous to my health-an opinion I rejected vehemently whenever she voiced it.
The afternoon passed quickly. School ended, and Edythe walked with me to my truck as she usually did. But this time, she slid into the driver's seat. Archie must have been taking her car home so that she could keep me from making a run for it.
I stood there and made no move to get out of the rain. "It's my birthday, shouldn'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." She slid out of the driver's seat and walked past me. I quickly rushed to beat her to the door and opened it for her. "Happy birthday."
"Shh," I shushed her halfheartedly. I closed the door once she was on and walked back to the driver's side and climbed in.
Edythe played the radio while I drove, shaking her head in disapproval.
"Your radio reception is horrible, Beau."
I frowned. I didn't like it when she picked on my truck. The truck was great-it had personality.
"You want a nice stereo? Drive your own car. Stop picking on my truck." I was nervous about the plans at the Cullen house, on top of my already grumpy mood, that the words came out sharper than I meant them. I was hardly ever bad-tempered with Edythe, and my tone made me feel bad.
I turned to apologize to her when I noticed that she was pressing her lips together to keep from laughing.
"Something funny?" I asked.
"No, nothing at all." She answered sarcastically.
When I parked in front of Charlie's house, she slid over to the seat next to me and reached for my face. She handled me very carefully, pressing just the tips of her fingers softly against my temples, my cheekbones, my jawline. Like I was easily breakable. Which was exactly the case-compared with her, at least.
"You should be in a good mood, today of all days," she whispered. Her breath fanned across my face.
"And if I don't want to be in a good mood?" I asked, my breathing uneven.
Her golden eyes smoldered. "Too bad."
My head was already spinning by the time she leaned closer and pressed her icy lips against mine. As she intended, no doubt, I forgot all about my worries, and concentrated on remembering how to inhale and exhale.
Her mouth lingered on mine, cold and smooth and soft, until I put my hand in her hair and threw myself into the kiss with a little too much enthusiasm. I could feel her lips curve upward as she let go of my face.
Edythe had drawn many careful lines of our physical relationship, with the intent being to keep me alive. Though, I respected the need for maintaining a safe distance between skin and her razor sharp, venom-coated teeth, I tended to forget about trivial things like that when she was kissing me.
"Beau, be good." she breathed against my cheek. She pressed her lips gently to mine one more time and then pulled away.
My pulse was thudding in my ears. I put one hand in a fist-like form over my heart. It drummed hyperactively under my palm.
"Do you think I'll ever get better at this?" I wondered, mostly to myself. "That my heart might someday stop trying to jump out of my chest when you're around me?"
"I really hope not," she said, a bit self-satisfied.
I rolled my eyes. "Let's go watch the Capulets and Montagues hack each other up, all right?"
"As you wish."
Edythe sprawled across the couch while I started the movie, fast-forwarding through the opening credits. When I perched on the edge of the sofa in front of her, I wrapped my arms around her waist and she rested against my chest. It wasn't exactly as comfortable as a sofa cushion would be, what with her head being hard and cold-and perfect-as an ice sculpture, but it was definitely preferable. She stood up and pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over me so I wouldn't freeze beside her body.
"You know, I've never had much patience with Romeo and Juliet," she commented as the movie started.
"Why is that?" I asked. The movie never meant much to me but I had nearly memorized the whole script since we had gone over Romeo and Juliet my freshman year in Phoenix.
"Well, first of all, Romeo's in love with this Rosaline-don't you think it makes him seem a little fickle? And then, a few minutes after their wedding, Romeo kills Juliet's cousin and Juliet basically sides with him. That's not very brilliant. Mistake after mistake. I highly doubt they could have destroyed their own happiness any more thoroughly."
I sighed. "Do you want to watch something else?"
"No, it's okay. I'll mostly be watching you, anyway."
I leaned down and put my lips on her hair.
The movie eventually captured my interest. We were at the part where Juliet had woken up and found her new husband dead.
"I'll admit, I do sort of envy her here," Edythe said.
"Why?"
"Just the ease of suicide," she clarified in a teasing tone. "You humans have it so easy. All you have to do is throw one tiny vial of plant extracts…"
"What?" I gasped.
"It's something I had to think about once, and I knew from Carine's experience that it wouldn't be simple. I'm not even sure how many ways Carine tried to kill herself in the beginning… after she realized what she'd become…" Her voice, which was now serious, turned light again. "And she's clearly still in excellent health."
I twisted around so that I could read her face. "What are you talking about?" I demanded. "What do you mean, this is something you had to think about once?"
"Last spring, when you were… nearly killed…" She paused to take a deep breath, struggling to return to her teasing tone. "Of course I was trying to focus on finding you alive, but part of my mind was making contingency plans. Like I said, it's not 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 with desperate haste to find the sadistic vampire who wanted to torture me to death. Joss, waiting in the mirrored room with my mother as her hostage-or so I'd thought. I hadn't known it was all a ruse. Just as Joss hadn't known that Edythe was racing to save me; Edythe made it in time, but it had been a close one. Unthinkingly, my fingers traced the crescent-shaped scar on my hand that was always just a few degrees 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 Edythe meant. My stomach plunged uncomfortably. "Contingency plans?" I repeated.
"Well, I wasn't going to live without you." She rolled her eyes as if the fact were childishly obvious. "But I wasn't sure how to do it- I knew Eleanor and Jessamine would never help… so I was thinking maybe I would go to Italy and do something to provoke the Volturi."
I didn't want to believe she was serious, but her golden eyes were brooding, focused on something far away in the distance as she contemplated ways to end her own life. Abruptly, I was furious.
"What is a Volturi?" I demanded.
"The Volturi are a family," she explained, her eyes still remote. "A very old, very powerful family of our kind. They are the closest thing our world has to a royal family, I suppose. Carine lived with them briefly in her early years, in Italy, before she settled in America-do you remember the story?"
"Yeah, I do."
I would never forget the first time I'd gone to her home, the huge white mansion buried deep in the forest beside the river, or the room where Carine-Edythe's mother in so many real ways-kept a wall of paintings that illustrated her personal history. The most vivid, most wildly colorful canvas there, the largest, was from Carine's time in Italy. Of course I remembered the calm quartet of women, each with the exquisite face of a seraph, painted into the highest balcony overlooking the swirling mayhem of color. Though the painting was centuries old, Carine-the blond angel-remained unchanged. And I remembered the three others, Carine's early acquaintances. Edythe had never used the name Volturi for the beautiful trio, two black-haired, one snow white. She'd called them Sulpicia, Marcus, and Athenodora, nighttime patrons of the arts…
"Anyway, you don't irritate the Volturi," Edythe went on, interrupting my reverie. "Not unless you want to die-or whatever it is we do." Her voice was so calm, it made her sound almost bored by the prospect.
My anger turned into horror. I took her 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 ever happen 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? Jeez, Edythe!" The idea of Edythe ceasing to exist, even if I were dead, was impossibly painful.
"What would you do, if the situation were reversed?" she asked.
"That's not the same thing."
She didn't seem to understand the difference. She chuckled.
"What if something did happen to you?" I blanched at the thought. "Would you want me to go off myself?"
A trace of pain touched her perfect features.
"I guess I see your point… a little," she admitted. "But what would I do without you?"
"Whatever you were doing before I came along and complicated your existence."
She sighed. "You make that sound so easy."
"It should be. I'm not really that interesting."
She was about to argue, but then she let it go. "Moot point," she reminded me. Abruptly, she pulled herself up into a more formal posture, shifting me to the side so that we were hardly touching.
"Charlie?" I guessed.
Edythe smiled. After a moment, I heard the sound of a police cruiser pulling into the driveway. I reached out and took her hand firmly.
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 your birthday. Hungry?"
"Sure. Thanks, Dad."
Charlie didn't comment on Edythe's apparent lack of appetite. He was used to Edythe passing on dinner.
"Do you mind if I borrow Beau for the evening?" Edythe asked when Charlie and I were done.
I looked at Charlie. Maybe he had some concept of birthdays as stay-at-home, family affairs-this was my first birthday with him, the first birthday since my mom, Renèe, had remarried and gone 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, "So I won't be any kind of company… Here." He scooped up the camera he'd gotten me on Renèe's suggestion (because I would need pictures to fill up my scrapbook), and he threw it to me.
He ought to know better than that-I'd always been coordinatively challenged. The camera glanced off the tip of my finger, and tumbled toward the floor. Edythe snagged it before it could crash onto the linoleum.
"Nice save," Charlie noted. "If they're doing something fun at the Cullens' tonight, Beau, you should take some pictures. You know how your mother gets-she'll be wanting to see the pictures faster than you can take them."
"Good idea, Charlie," Edythe said, handing me the camera.
I turned the camera on Edythe, and snapped the first picture. "It works."
"That's good. Hey, say hi to Archie for me. He hasn't been over in a while." Charlie's mouth pulled down at one corner.
"It's been three days, Dad," I reminded him. Charlie loved having Archie around. He'd become attached last spring when he'd helped him through my awkward convalescence; Charlie would be forever grateful to him for helping him through all of that. "I'll tell him."
"Okay. You kids have fun tonight." It was clearly a dismissal. Charlie was already edging toward the living room and the TV.
Edythe smiled, triumphant, and took my hand to pull me from the kitchen.
When we got to the truck, I followed her to the driver's side and opened the door for her, this time I didn't argue. I still had a hard time finding the obscure turnoff to her house in the dark.
Edythe drove north through Forks, visibly chafing at the speed limit enforced by my prehistoric Chevy. The engine groaned even louder than usual as she pushed in over fifty.
"Take it easy," I warned her.
"You know what you would love? A nice Chevy Silverado or a Ford Super Duty. They'd really suit you well…"
"There's nothing wrong with my truck. And speaking of expensive nonessentials, I really hope you didn't spend any money on birthday presents."
"Not a dime," she said virtuously.
"Good."
"Can you do me a favor?"
"That depends on what it is."
She sighed, her lovely face serious. "Beau, the last real birthday any of us had was Eleanor in 1935. Cut us a little slack, and don't be too difficult tonight. They're all very excited."
It always freaked me out a little when she brought up things like that. "Fine, I'll behave."
"I probably should warn you…"
"What is it?"
"When I say they're all excited… I do mean all of them."
"Everyone?" I choked. "I thought Eleanor and Royal were in Africa." The rest of Forks was under the impression that the older Cullens had gone off to college this year, to Dartmouth, but I knew better.
"Eleanor wanted to be here."
"But… Royal?"
"I know, Beau. Don't worry, he'll be on his best behavior."
I didn't answer. Like I could just not worry, that easy. Unlike Archie, Edythe's "adopted" brother, the golden blond and strong Royal didn't like me much. Actually, the feeling was a little bit stronger than just dislike. As far as Royal was concerned, I was an unwelcome intruder into his family's secret life.
I felt really guilty about the present situation, guessing that Royal and Eleanor's prolonged absence was my fault, even as I furtively enjoyed not having to see him. Eleanor, Edythe's sister, I did miss. She was in many ways just like the big sister I'd want if I had one… only much, much more terrifying.
Edythe decided to change the subject. "So, if you won't let me get you the truck, isn't there anything that you'd like for your birthday?"
The words came out in a whisper. "You know what I want."
A deep frown carved creases into her forehead. She obviously wished she'd stuck to the subject of Royal.
It felt like we'd had this argument a lot today.
"Not tonight, Beau. Please."
"Well, maybe Archie will give me what I want."
Edythe growled-a deep, menacing sound. "This isn't going to be your last birthday, Beau," she vowed.
"That's not fair."
I thought I heard her teeth clench together.
We were pulling up to the house now. Bright light shined from every window on the first two floors. A long line of glowing Japanese lanterns hung from the porch eaves, reflecting a soft radiance on the huge cedars that surrounded the house. Big ribbons-color blue-lined the wide stairs up to the front doors.
I groaned.
Edythe took a few deep breaths to calm herself. "This is a party," she reminded me. "Try to be a good sport."
"Sure," I muttered.
I got out and went around to open her door, and offered her my hand.
"I have a question."
She waited warily.
"If I develop this film," I said, waving around the camera in my hands, "will you show up in the picture?"
Edythe started laughing. I helped her out of the car, and up the stairs, she was still laughing as I opened the door for her.
They were all waiting in the huge white living room; when I walked through the door, they greeted me with a loud chorus of "Happy Birthday, Beau!" while my face turned red and looked down. They had covered most of the floor with so many balloons. There was a table with white clothe draped over it next to Edythe's grand piano, holding a blue birthday cake, more ribbons, a stack of glass plates, and a small pile of silver-wrapped presents.
It was so much worse than I'd imagined.
Edythe, sensing my distress, wrapped one arm around my waist and the other around my stomach and leaned up to kiss my cheek.
Edythe's parents, Carine and Earnest-impossibly youthful and lovely as ever-were the closest to the door. Earnest hugged me carefully, and then Carine put her arm around my shoulders.
"Sorry about this, Beau," she stage-whispered. "I couldn't rein any of them in."
Royal and Eleanor stood behind them. Royal didn't smile, but at least he didn't glare. Eleanor's face was stretched into a huge smile. It had been months since I'd seen them; I'd forgotten how big Royal was. And had Eleanor always been so beautiful?
"You haven't changed at all," Eleanor said with mock disappointment. "I expected a perceptible difference, but here you are, red-faced just like always."
"Thanks a lot, Eleanor," I said, my face getting redder.
She laughed, "I have to step out for a second"-she paused to look conspicuously at Archie-"Don't do anything funny while I'm gone."
"I'll try."
Archie let go of Jessamine and stepped forward, his teeth sparkling in the bright light. Jessamine smiled, too, but kept her distance. She leaned, long and blond, against the post at the foot of the stairs. During the days we'd had to spend cooped up together in Phoenix, I'd thought she'd gotten over her aversion to me. But she'd gone back to exactly how she'd acted before-avoiding me as much as possible-the moment she was free from that temporary obligation to protect me. I knew it wasn't personal, just a precaution, and I tried not to care about it that much. Jessamine had more trouble sticking to the Cullens' diet than the rest of them; the scent of human blood was much harder for her to resist than the others-she hadn't been trying as long.
"I guess it's a good time to open presents," Archie announced. He motioned his hand toward the table with the cake and shiny packages and we walked towards it.
"Archie, I know I told you I didn't want anything-"
"But none of us listened," he interrupted, smug. "Open it." He took the camera from my hands and replaced it with a big, square silver box.
The box was so light that it felt empty. The tag on top said that it was from Eleanor, Royal, and Jessamine. Self-consciously, I tore the paper off and then stared at the box in concealed.
It was something electrical, with lots of numbers in the name. I opened the box, hoping for further illumination. But the box was empty.
"Um… thanks."
Royal actually cracked a smile. Jessamine laughed. "It's a stereo for your truck," she explained. "Eleanor's installing it right now so that you can't return it."
Archie was always one step ahead of me.
"Thanks, Jessamine and Royal," I told them, grinning as I remembered Edythe's complaints about my radio this afternoon-all a setup, apparently. "Thanks, Eleanor!" I called out.
I heard her booming laugh from my truck, and I couldn't help laughing. too.
"Here's mine and Edythe's," Archie said, grinning. He held out a small, flat square in his hand.
I turned to look at Edythe, "You promised."
Before she could answer; Eleanor came through the door. "Just in time." she crowed. She pushed in behind Jessamine, who had also drifted closer than usual to get a good look.
"I didn't spend a dime," Edythe assured me. She brushed her fingers against my cheek, leaving my skin tingling from her touch.
I inhaled deeply and turned to Archie. "Okay." I sighed.
Eleanor chuckled with delight.
I took the little package, rolling my eyes at Edythe while I stuck my finger under the edge of the paper and jerked it under the tape.
"Shoot," I muttered when the paper sliced my finger; I pulled it out to examine the damage. A single drop of blood oozed from the tiny cut.
It all happened very quickly then.
"No!" Edythe roared.
She threw herself at me, flinging me back across the table. It fell, as I did, scattering the cake and the presents, the ribbons and the plates. I landed in the mess of shattered crystal.
Jessamine slammed into Edythe, 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 the deep in Jessamine's chest. Jessamine tried to shove past Edythe, snapping her teeth just inches from Edythe's face.
Eleanor and Royal grabbed Jessamine from behind in the next second, locking her into her massive steel grip, but Jessamine struggled on, her wild, empty eyes focused only on me.
Beyond the shock, there was no pain. I'd tumbled down the floor by the piano, with my arms thrown out instinctively to catch my fall, into the jagged shards of glass, Only now did I feel the searing, stinging pain 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 fevered eyes of the six suddenly ravenous vampires.