8. PORT ANGELES
JESS DROVE FASTER THAN THE CHIEF, SO WE MADE IT TO PORT ANGELES BY [TWO]. It was an afternoon filled with superficial thoughts that comfortably numbed me. I didn't need to think while talking to Jessica. That was what was great about her. She steered the conversation toward Mike again and again, even when Angie tried to change the topic so that all of us could express an opinion. Jess was insistent.
Shoe shopping had turned Jess into the devil on my shoulder and Angie the angel. I ended up listening to Angie more than Jess, which resulted in Jess buying the shoes I rejected. Not all of them, but it was a buy two get one free sale. Jess couldn't resist.
We visited several stores. Shoes, clothes, and jewelry caught our eyes, and while Jess walked away with three new pairs of shoes, Angie bought pink rose earrings and I a flower-pattern-on-white knee-length skirt. With our wallets weight lessened, we decided the shopping was done for the day.
We headed for the restaurant-centric part of the city. I saw the library pass outside the window.
"Wait a minute, can we stop by the library?" I asked.
Jess snorted. "The library? We have a pretty decent one at school, you know."
"Not really," Angie disagreed mutedly. "It's impossible to find anything extra in there. It's the bare minimum. One book less and you couldn't call it a library."
"I guess I was mistaken," Jess said. She steered into the lot between the library and the bank. She didn't speak again for a while, probably so she wouldn't have to admit that she'd barely put a toe into the school library.
I'd wanted to go straight for the mythology section, where the first book on my list waited, but Jess and Angie dragged me to the spinning racks of cheesy romance novels. We laughed at the many faces of Fabio and recited the worst lines in hushed tones. Jess yanked Angie into the magazine section and I slipped away. I went through my list, skimming through the book quickly, finding the chapters that had seemed useful. Most of my list took a minute to peek through. The second last book in my list mentioned the Cold One legend and I read through it. It was a little different from Jake's interpretation, but not in any way that mattered. Just a different encounter of their species—but still, they were cold to the touch, they drank blood, and they had super strength.
Jess tapped on my shoulder from behind. I jumped, clutching the book to my chest. Jess laughed and apologized.
"We were thinking it's time to leave," Jess informed. "It's getting late and my stomach is in the mood for fries ASAP."
I stared at the book in my hands. I had one more book to check out. "I just have one more book I wanted to look at. Can you wait?"
Jess bounced on the heels of her feet. "Ugh. Come on. What is it with you gals and books? Instead of Bella, you should've been named just Belle."
Angie giggled. "Beauty & the Beast, huh?" She shook her head.
"How about this, the restaurant is less than a block away, we can meet you there," Jess suggested. "I can hear Angie's stomach rumbling—and mine will be joining hers soon if I don't go now."
Angie blushed and put a hand to her gut for a second. She frowned and met my eyes, apologizing for her hunger being so obvious.
"You can see it from here," Jess insisted.
"Alright," I agreed. "I'll be fifteen minutes. Save me a seat."
"We'll order you fries," Angie promised.
Jess and Angie left slowly, giving me more time to catch up. I slipped the book back onto the shelf and went to find that last book.
It was easy to find, it was less easy to understand. My confusion over the material told me I was probably on the right track. The book was simply entitled 'Vampyres: What They Believed Then and The Accounts That Verify It'. That mouthful had turned me off at first, but as soon as I saw references to the Cold Ones, then changing eye colour was mentioned in the 'Possible Traits' chapter, I was hooked. I immediately turned to the chapter about their weaknesses.
Fifteen minutes had passed and I still wasn't satisfied. I went to the front desk and checked out the book. Even if all of it wasn't true, I had the feeling some of it had to be.
It was six o'clock according to my cell—which meant we'd spent a long time wandering around the city. It was a wonder we hadn't emptied our pockets to buy a few more skirts, earrings, and shoes. I was just glad I'd found the book I wanted. I tried to think up a way to hide it so Jess wouldn't see it and tease me. Maybe I could convince her I was brainstorming for an accurate Halloween costume.
The outside air was cold and the sun was falling from the sky, painting the city in shadows. The lights coming from the library windows were bright, but not bright enough to fill every dark corner. I hugged my purse closed and walked a little faster. I had a weird feeling buzzing in my head. It was probably uncalled for paranoia, but that didn't stop me from keeping my eyes forward and legs pumping at a near run.
The restaurant was in full view, just as Jessica had said, so that reassured me. The street was strangely naked though; the only car was parked and empty. I tried to tell myself that it wasn't dark yet, and this wasn't a back alley. Someone would have to be really stupid to do anything out in the open.
That stupid someone grabbed my arm and dragged me into the alley before I had time to scream—before I had time to blink.
His hot, clammy hand covered my mouth. There were two others with him. One of them helped restrained my arms, jumping back whenever I tried to kick at him. My eyes darted to each of them, unable to think of what it meant. Why were they there? Why was I there?
"Did you think we wouldn't find you, Karen?" the one covering my mouth said. His voice was deep, rough, old.
The two holding me laughed. A flicker of hope filled me. I wasn't Karen. They were wrong. It wasn't me they were after! I tried to say it, but they wouldn't let me speak.
"We know all about your investigation," the second man said. He was younger, but he smelled older, like he was rotting, covered dust and moldy ham. His face was close to mine and he breathed on me. It was toxic.
The third man flicked a lit cigarette to the ground. My eyes caught the spark of orange fall, and then get stamped out.
"It's not her," the third man said. He shoved a hand into the pocket of his long, black leather coat.
The other two went still. The second man let go of me, but I wasn't released.
"How do you know?" the fist asked.
The third man stuck a hand in his other pocket and pulled out a small, white board. He turned it around. It was a photograph. The man brought it close to me. "Look at her face. It's not her."
"Damn it," the second man said. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "I was sure she walked by at this hour."
"She does look a lot like her," the first man said. He yanked my head to the side to inspect my face. He laughed. He had yellow-stained teeth and a thick, wiry black beard.
"She's seen our faces," the second man said.
The third man shrugged. He turned his back to me. "Unlucky for her."
My blood hardened into ice. 'Unlucky for her,' he'd said, that meant… They were going to kill me.
I screamed, but the clammy hand muffled the sound. The man holding me dragged me further into the alley. I would never be heard from. They'd take me somewhere I wouldn't be seen. The more I struggled, the more I was restrained. Even if I shook off one guy, there was one man ahead of me and one following behind. I'd learned a couple defensive moves in my life, but I wasn't sure I remember them. I had no chance to fight off three guys. I was so afraid that I didn't care if them saw me cry. In fact, I hoped seeing me cry would make them feel pity.
It didn't work.
I'd never been big into religion. So, about to die, I wasn't sure if there was anyone willing to listen. My brain was too scrambled to try. But the word 'please' kept repeating in my mind. I wasn't sure if some higher power could hear that please, interpret it, and send a bolt of lightning to smite the three guys abducting me—or maybe temporarily make me into Thor so I could beat them up and fly away afterwards—but I was sure it was the closest I'd come to praying in my life.
Except God wasn't listening. Far from it, maybe even the opposite. I heard a mangled shout from behind me and even though I knew it wasn't an angel, I was thankful someone had been watching over me.
The man's hand slipped from my mouth. I took a breath and stomped on his foot. When he reached for me I jabbed my heel hard into his groin. When he gargled in pain, I almost smiled. I almost giggled. That was probably the adrenaline. Maybe it was impossible for anyone not to smile when death had been so close.
Apparently the kick to the groin hadn't been enough to stop him. His arm gripped my wrist and yanked so hard I was worried he'd pull my hand off. The standard damsel-in-distress shriek came from my throat. I tried kicking again, because my arms wouldn't move.
I met the man's eyes in time to see his head twist. The bubbling crunch as his eyes pulled from mine made bile rise up my tongue. I felt his weight drag me down, only to feel his fingers pried off my wrist by an icy hand. My eyes followed the man as he thumped against the rough pavement.
Before I could look up to see who that hand belonged to—and how the man who'd bound me was lying with his chest on the pavement, his head face-up—I heard a shriek and a crunch behind me. I turned to see the third man who'd wanted to kill me was now missing an arm.
My stomach spewed up more bile. I hunched over and tried to use the force to keep my insides from coming out.
An all-too-familiar voice spoke then. "I'd like to hurt you more, but…lucky for you…"
I closed my eyes. I didn't want to see what he considered lucky.
I was suddenly breathless. I opened my eyes, but looked in the direction of the street, away from my ruthless rescuer. I thought it would be safer to not see what had become of the third man—but the first and second were lying on the pavement exactly where I'd looked. One had his head spun in the wrong direction like a grotesque owl and the other was—thankfully, facedown—lying in a gleaming pool of red.
My lungs sharply inhaled. I put a hand to my mouth and backed against a wall. I slid against it, headed for the street. I couldn't peel my eyes from the corpses. More tears spilled over my cheeks.
I'd almost escaped when a hand grabbed me. I screamed, louder than I thought possible. Maybe I could be hired as that girl in horror movies whose only purpose for being in the film was her wonderfully shrill, deafening scream.
"Bella."
I couldn't speak. My scream had made me mute.
"It's me," Edward said. "Calm down, you're safe."
My knees buckled and my back slid down the wall. My haggard breathing gave way to sobs. I hid my face in my hands. Snot dripped down over my lips. I wiped it away hastily, taking away some of the tears too.
"You're safe," he repeated. His voice was soft, warm—so different from the cold hand skin that wiped a tear from my chin.
I yanked my head back when he touched me, banging it into the brick wall.
"Careful, Bella," he said, reaching for my head.
I shivered and closed my eyes. "Don't you touch me," I shrieked. My voice was much louder than I'd wanted it to be.
I shivered and sobbed for a minute. He didn't speak. I felt afraid, thinking that he had run away, that I was alone.
I opened my eyes and was about to shout his name, when I saw his legs. He was standing in front of me, not too far, but not too close to make me scream at him again.
"I can't stay here," he said. His voice was low, cold, the same venomous voice that had spoken to that man before he'd killed him.
I leaned my tilted my bruised crown against the wall to look up at him. His eyes nervously watched the streets. My screams had probably attracted unwanted attention.
"But…" His voice, still cold, seemed to lighten. His eyes, shining gold, searched over me. "I can't leave you here." He bent his knees and offered his hand. "Will you let me take you away?"
I nodded, but I realized I was shaking so much already that it was probably hard to tell. "Yes," I said. The word barely managed to escape over my chattering teeth and trembling lips.
I touched his hand. He gripped mine securely, but not roughly.
I tried to stand, but I had no strength in my legs. I pushed up with my free hand, the rough ground grinding against my palm. Nothing worked.
"May I carry you?" Edward asked.
"Yes," I said.
Like a knight out of a fairytale, he scooped me into his arms and walked away, moving like I was weightless. Then again, if he moved a car away with so little ease, maybe I was weightless to him.
He carried me out of the alley. We were around the corner when I heard a scream come from behind us. Someone had discovered the gory remains. My stomach churned wildly as the image of it whipped against my mind.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head into the crook of her neck. I hugged my arm around him tightly. Part of me was terrified knowing he'd torn apart three men like it was nothing, like he'd made a salad and then casually walked away. A greater part of me was so thankful to be alive, and I knew I owed that entirely to him. That was twice now that he'd saved me.
I lost track of reality and time. One moment he was carrying me through the shadowy parts of the city. The next moment, I was in his car, and he was driving. I bolted forward only to be tugged back by the seatbelt. I had no memory of putting it on. Maybe Edward had done it. After all, my legs were still shaking and useless, so it was doubtless that he'd put me into the car in the first place.
"What happened?" I asked. My throat felt slashed. My voice was hazy, muted, like I'd been asleep.
Edward didn't look away from the road. "Do you really want to know?"
I blinked. I caught a splash of burgundy-red on the rim of his sleeve. "No," I decided.
"Are you hurt?" he asked.
I checked over myself. My head was sore, but I'd done that to myself. "No."
I glanced out the window, just for something to distract me. Open road. We weren't in the city anymore. My eyelids drooped closed.
I bolted forward again. "Jessica." I shoved my hand into my pocket. I took out my cell. 3 missed texts. 2 missed calls. "Damn it."
I ran a hand through my hair. I went through the texts. The first two were from Jess, the last from Angie—who sounded worried. I started a reply, but then realized I had nothing to say.
"Where are we?" I asked. I didn't give Edward time to respond. "Take me back. I have to go to Angie. And Jess. I was meeting them."
I looked at the time. I was an hour late. I was surprised I didn't have more missed texts.
"You're in no state to—"
"I need to let them know I'm alright!" I interrupted.
Edward met my eyes. He looked at me for a long time. I forgot for a minute that he was driving and shouldn't be holding my gaze for so long.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
My eyes dropped to my shaking hands. The answer was obvious. "I need them to think that."
He wanted to argue, his expression was a resisting a scowl. His lungs emptied out, stifling whatever argument he'd thought up. He finally turned his eyes back on the road.
The wheels screeched, the car spun, and our direction had switched. My head took a second too long to realize what had happened. Edward was driving me back to Port Angeles. I wondered how far away we were.
"Thank you."
Edward's hands tightened around the steering wheel, creaking as the leather as strained. "You'll tell them you lost track of the time. Your phone went dead. You ran into me and we started talking."
"Okay." I liked that he had a plan for something to say. I didn't even have enough energy to think up the start of an excuse. He'd even thought up a reason for not answering my phone.
"You're not leaving with them," he insisted. "If they ask, you're staying with me." His eyes turned to meet mine again. His eyes were unrelenting gold, solid and cold. He wasn't accepting any excuses.
"Okay." I glued my eyes one my phone. I switched the phone to airplane mode, just to make sure that when I told my friends that the phone was dead it wouldn't start buzzing or ringing. That would be a sure give away.
Edward combed his fingers through my hair. My body stiffened and I pushed against the car door, staying as far away as possible. Sure, he'd just saved my life, but that was too forward too soon.
"Your appearance was a dead giveaway," he explained.
The use of the word dead made my stomach jump. I nodded and closed my eyes. I'd never felt so carsick in my life. The movement was so unsettling. I wanted everything to be still, and silent.
I riffled through my purse for my compact and lipstick. I did a few quick touch ups. My face was way too pale. I piled on the powder. It was better than nothing, but not quite enough.
"We're here," Edward said. He stepped out of the car.
I blinked and blindly looked out the windshield. I hadn't even told him where I was supposed to meet the girls.
Edward opened my door and offered his hand again. I took a deep, deep breath and then exhaled. I had to drag out all the acting skills within me.
I took his hand and unsteadily got to my feet. I wasn't shaking as much as before, but maybe I could pass off what was leftover as jitteriness. Everyone knew Edward was hunky, so maybe I could convince Jess that I was nervous and excited about having an encounter with Edward. Angie might pick up on something, but if I thoroughly convinced Jess, then maybe Jess would convince Angie.
Edward steered me out of the lot to the front door of the Burger Palace. Jess and Angie stood on the front steps. They both had their phones out. Angie pressed her phone to her ear just as she saw me. She dropped her phone.
"Bella," Jess called. She leaped down a few steps, her relief turning into uncertainty when she saw who was holding my hand.
Angie scooped up her phone and ran to Jess' side. Her eyebrows knitted together and her mouth scowled angrily.
"What happened to you, Bella?" Angie demanded. "We were so worried. We sent you messages and called."
"My phone died," I spat out. It was an automatic response. It didn't sound real to any of us.
Edward squeezed my hand. It was a hint that I had to try harder.
I rolled my eyes and grinned. "I should have charged it before I left, but I didn't think we'd be out so late."
"You said you'd meet us in fifteen minutes," Angie continued. "It's been an hour. I thought something bad had happened. I had the worst feeling, like maybe…" She inhaled sharply and shook her head. "Never mind. You're fine. You are fine, right?"
"Fine," I agreed. "My phone died and then I bumped into Edward. I was on my way out of the library as he was on his way in."
"What a coincidence," Jess cheered, her elbow not-so-subtly grazing Angie's side.
"We started talking and then I lost track of the time," I said, successfully pulling off the sound of a senseless ramble without my voice shaking once. "I asked him for the time and when he said it had been an hour, I freaked and came straight over."
"I'm sorry to have kept her," Edward said. He flashed them a smile so bright they blinked, now blinded and speechless.
There was a moment of silence. Jess, Angie, and I exchanged glances. Jess had clear intentions. She wanted me to explain why Edward was holding my hand—and the reason being that my legs would collapse wasn't an answer I could give. Angie was started to question the proximity between Edward and I. After giving her the impression Edward wasn't someone I wanted to be near, it was obvious how many warnings signals were buzzing in her head.
"We already ate," Jess spoke suddenly. She gargled a laugh and grinned. "Sorry."
"We ordered because we thought you'd arrive in a minute," Angie said unapologetically, and then shrugged. She wasn't buying the story, and now she thought I'd been rude to make her worry. "Sorry."
"Bella, I'm sure you're hungry," Jess said, her eyebrow raised in an attempt to hint what my answer should be.
"A little," I said, mostly to please Jess. Now that she mentioned it though, my body was so weak. I wondered if my stomach would settle long enough to let me feed it.
"Since you two already ate, I don't mind taking Bella out to dinner," Edward offered, gallantly grinning, becoming a knight once again. "If you have other things to do…?"
Jess nodded violently. "Absolutely."
"I don't mind driving Bella back to Forks," Edward said.
"Perfect." Jess bit her bottom lip to stop herself from squealing. "You kids have fun. Angie and I will head back."
"Okay," I said with a light nod.
Jess looped her hand around Angie's arm and scooted both of them out of the way. She was strongly encouraging my being with Edward. I wondered if it was because, in her mind, giving me to Edward fully secured her being with Mike.
"Good evening, Bella," she said. "I'll talk to you first thing tomorrow." She winked.
With effort, I lifted my lips and nodded. "First thing."
Edward squeezed my hand again and walked up the first steps of the Burger Palace. He watched Jess and Angie depart.
"They're gone," he reported. His head bowed closer to my face. "If this place doesn't suit your taste, we can go elsewhere."
I blinked. Did that mean he had every intention of taking me out to dinner? Somehow, I hadn't seen that coming.
I waded around him to look at the front doors. Right now, nothing was to my taste. I felt like I might need something though, maybe sugar—although salty French fries did give me a spark of hope.
"This place is fine."
He seemed like he wanted to disagree. But he took me inside anyway.
Edward led me to one of the plastic booths in the furthest corner. He sat me down and asked what I wanted. I tried to object to him getting me anything, but he insisted. I demanded fries. That was the only thing on my mind.
He told me to wait and then went to the counter. I watched him speak to the petite doe-eyed Australian girl behind he counter with a burger hat on her head. That had to be embarrassing for her.
I felt my eyelids droop again, but I forced myself to stay awake. At least I'd stopped shaking.
When Edward came back with fries, I ignored my manners and began shoving fries in. In the back of my mind, I was grateful he hadn't brought a packet of ketchup. I knew I wouldn't be able to handle so much red liquid so soon after.
The salt made me thirsty quickly. I went to stand, but Edward's hand was on my shoulder, holding me down, before I could even start to stand.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"Well, salty French fries, I had," I said, the stress of being held down turning me into Yoda. "A drink. I was going to get a drink."
"What would you prefer?" His expression was hardened. He wouldn't let me move.
"Ah, coke, I guess," I said, blushing. I didn't like being catered too, but I couldn't refuse when…well, for two reasons. He'd saved my life, so I trusted him a little. He also had super strength and speed, so I absolutely could not refuse him anything. It was better to let him be my manservant if that's what amused him.
"Coming right up." He didn't smile, but there was a lighter tone to his voice. He seemed to like giving me stuff.
He came back a few moment's later with two cokes. He loosened the bottle cap before handing one to me. I found that hard to appreciate, being treated like a baby—but then again, I knew that it was definite that I didn't have the strength to open it in that moment. I was still feeling weak.
I chugged back half the bottle in one gulp. I didn't feel the need to be embarrassed by my un-girlish ways. I'd been almost killed and then witnessed him tear people apart. I was definitely seeing life through new, unabashed eyes.
"How are you feeling?" He asked like he already knew, like I might be about to drop dead.
I went through the list of honest answers, which was a little too close to his assumption that I could drop dead on the plastic seat. I felt like all my insides had been sucks out of me by a giant inhaling through a straw—or maybe a giant's vacuum cleaner. My skin pricked and tightened from goosebumps. The only good news was that my stomach was keeping the fries down—so far—and I was already tremendously grateful that—so far—the shaking hadn't returned.
"I'll be fine," I said, to encourage myself.
Edward's eyes narrowed. He definitely knew I was lying.
I hid my guilt, staring into my emptying coke bottle, guzzling back the sugary liquid. I popped it down onto the table, sad to have nothing left to distract me, only to catch Edward shove the second coke bottle at me. I shrugged an accepted. He was probably a strictly blood-drinker, so I didn't feel guilt for gaining a second glass of sugar rush.
I shivered. Damn.
"Cold?" he asked.
I glanced over my shoulder out the window. It was black out. Night. Maybe it was the evening hour that made me shiver rather than my remaining fear pushing across my skin. Maybe my guts were tougher than I thought. I'd always hoped I wasn't a crybaby damsel-in-need-of-constant-rescue type. Seeing as I wasn't sobbing uncontrollably, I awarded myself a fistful of gold stars, for toughing it out.
I zipped up my jacket and took a swig of the second coke. I could survive a little chill.
"Anything else?" he asked.
I lifted the empty fry cartoon. I shook it.
"Coming right up," my manservant said. He slid onto his feet and went to the front counter to cater to my needs once more.
My teeth bit into the bottle top. I couldn't help but grin. I'd never had something like this happen before. I was being catered to. I was getting a vampire to fetch my French fries. Stranger than fiction, better than a free Britney concert ticket.
"I doubt this is a healthy practice," Edward said, his tone warning. He placed the new carton in front of me. "I shouldn't be encouraging this."
I snorted. "Are you worried my blood will taste like salt?"
I thought I was being funny. I smiled to myself and lifted a fry to my mouth. His hand squeezed my wrist. The movement was so fast that I didn't register it at first, didn't see how rigid his body had become, how close his hand was to my face. The first thing I knew was that I'd said something stupid. Then I knew the grip on my wrist was far from flirty. It was a shackle.
"I meant hypothetically," I said, in a clear voice, loud enough that anyone in the Burger Palace could hear it, in case they'd been listening before—in case that was what concerned Edward.
His eyes shot a thousand flash-frozen needles at me. I burned and chilled my skin when I tried to move. I could barely blink. He was much scarier than the guys who'd tried to kill me. Much scarier, because I knew he could kill, and I knew his mood changed like a coin was being flipped in his brain—head's or tails, sweet or psychotic, my friend or my foe—for every word spoken.
Shakily, I lifted my free hand and covered his icy hand. He loosened his grip but didn't let go.
I met his eyes and leaned close to him. "We have things to talk about," I whispered, "but please say I'll be alright if I leave with you."
Instantly the needles flew out of my skin. Edward's expression changed too quickly for me to see what he was thinking, to know if he was sorry for acting coldly or merely the coin had been flipped again, so his approach changed. He was calm now. His eyes were blank, a veil hiding his feelings from me.
"You'll be alright," he said.
My eyes shuttered to a close and I exhaled. I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath.
Edward extended his hand again. "We're going," he said. "Now."
I'd been hoping to rest safely with the thought of other humans being near by, but Edward was impatient. I'd accidentally cast my line and he'd been hooked. He wasn't letting my information-worm get away.
I tossed out the empty fry cartons and coke bottle, before Edward's arm herded me toward the door. He wasn't allowing me to dawdle, not even to have an extra second to gather my wits. I'd have to face him post-traumatic stress style.
Leaving the restaurant was a mistake, or so said my gut. My mind was so against it. The warm inside was safe, was being watched. Outside it was dark, and I'd be alone with him. Only one foot was out the door before I was shaking. I wore a mask of calm, pretended I couldn't feel it, but the mask was translucent to Edward. He knew he could frighten me.
Edward was a perfect gentleman outside his car. He opened the door for me, helped me in. He was mute, his eyes still veiled. But once he was in the driver's seat he locked the doors.
I watched out the window as we drove away. I hoped that my imminent death had been avoided rather than delayed. The alley fright wouldn't make me restless, but it was what Edward wanted to talk about that worried me—made me hope that he would let me live long enough to be restless.
I clicked my seatbelt in place. Edward drove at an alarming speed and I wasn't to make sure that if and when we broke the sound barrier, I wouldn't fly back through my seat.
"Before you start chewing me out—seriously no pun intended—I have some things to ask," I said.
Edward chuckled. It was tight, clipped, and false. "You're not in a position to request anything."
"I almost died, so humour me." I wanted to say that if he planned on killing me, I should have a last request granted—but I'd joked enough.
Edward didn't say anything. His eyes flickered from the windshield to my face. He'd listen. Maybe he wouldn't answer, but he'd at least hear me out.
"You were following me, weren't you?" I accused.
"Are you ungrateful?" he asked. He frowned, pulled his eyes away from me.
I pushed back into the headrest. "I am grateful you saved me," I admitted. "Maybe I should be concerned about you following me, but I've given up. There's nothing I can do to change it. What I want to know is how."
The corner of Edward's lip curled upward. "You want to know how."
"You found me." I swished the bottle in my hand, listening to the chinking of the liquid inside. "How close were you? Do you turn invisible? Something tells me you just have a sixth sense."
Edward's hands tightened around the wheel.
"I can see you're having difficult deciding what you can share with me," I acknowledged. I took a noisy sip of coke. "I'll make it easy. I know you're not human. You know I know you're not human. I know you have freaky superpowers, and you know I know. I don't know the details, but you know I'll find out eventually. It's better if I hear it from you. Right now."
The steering wheel creaked. It might snap in his hands.
"You said getting to know me might help both of us," I reminded him. "Maybe the reverse is true."
"It's not," he said quickly. His eyes flashed to meet mine, and then back to the road.
I leaned my head against the window. I could see nothing out the window. If Edward wanted to, he could kill me for being so nosey and dump me out the car. I wouldn't be found at least until morning. Maybe forever. It would be nice to have some answers before that.
"If you're going to kill me anyway, why not tell me?"
The car slowed. Dramatically. I looked over at Edward, to see if he really was about to dump me out of the car. Instead, he looked more afraid than I was. He was petrified—a complete statue, his face a quieted scream.
His eyes pleaded with mine. He didn't want to kill me. He didn't want to be that kind of person. It was obvious. Killing me was his greatest fear. He couldn't—just couldn't bear it—couldn't become a killer—and that was the reason I was alive now.
"Explain to me what you are," I begged. "Tell me. I have to know."
Still afraid, he tried to compose himself. He moved like an oak tree—just sudden twitches from a strong wind. He head faced forward. He eyes didn't leave me.
"You were following me, you knew I was coming to Port Angeles—how?"
I was determined to get answers. I knew now that this was the only way. Edward wasn't able to stay away from me, he told me that. We were trying to get along—he was trying not to kill me. He'd saved me twice. He wanted to know me. Instead of fighting it, I had to encourage it. It was insane, but the answer to my survival was obvious.
I wondered if this was how Shahrazad felt when she spoke to King Shahrayar. Every night she'd spend with him, in his bed, telling him unfinished stories for one thousand and one nights, entertaining him, making him want her alive. To survive, she had to flatter the man who swore every day that he would kill her the instant she ceased to enthrall him. If Edward's interest in me ever waned, ever became less than his need to hurt me, then I would die. I had to make him need me alive. To do that, I had to understand him.
"I…can read minds."
I blinked. I waited for him to tell me he was kidding.
"It's not like reading words on a page," he explained. "It's like hearing a person's inner voice."
"You can read—can hear people's thoughts?" I stared at him, open-mouthed. I was torn between finding his power irresistibly cool and irrevocably creepy.
"Hear their thoughts, their minds—there's a difference between simply hearing what someone's thinking, exact words, their password, their locker combination…and then there's intentions." Edward smiled. "It's all in the sound of their inner voice. It's different from the voices you hear, the voices they speak with. Inner voices are the difference between the average, the psychotic, and…"—he shrugged—"whatever classifications people call themselves…"
"So, by the…tone"—it seemed like the wrong word, but Edward nodded against my better judgment—"…of someone's inner voice, you could know instantly if they're the next Manson or the next Mother Teresa?"
"I could only know if they have the potential," he corrected. "So I always listen very carefully."
"So what kind of tone do I have?" I wondered.
His chin dropped and his eyes swept down. "I wonder."
"You said you read minds."
"I do."
"But you don't know how my inner voice sounds."
"No."
"That doesn't make sense."
"It doesn't," he agreed. "And I have been trying to solve that riddle since the first day I saw you."
Outside, a car whizzed by. A flash of light blinded me. I blinked rapidly, my vision taking in the dim car interior again. Edward's eyes were tensed. This was another interesting development.
"You hear thoughts—all thoughts—but not mine?"
"Never."
I grinned. That could come in handy.
"How many times has this happened to you? How many other people can block their thoughts?" I questioned excitedly. This was another thing to add to my list of vampire weaknesses. "Is this a temporary thing?"
"I don't have those answers." He shook his head. "I've never found another being that could block me."
I was unique. Superb.
"Awesome."
His eyes shot to mine. He scowled. He wasn't enjoying being blocked.
I shrugged. I was too pleased to care that it bothered him. At least I had some protection against him, even if it was only that small amount.
"How did mind reading help you track me down?" I crossed my arms. "You can't read me, so are you stalking Jessica and Angie?"
He shrugged. "In a way. Only tonight."
I balked at him. Following me was one thing, but those were my friends! I was putting them in danger—just by being with them! So much for their privacy, their minds were invaded just so Edward could more easily stalk me. I wondered if there was a way to pass on my blocker to them. Was it something that can be taught?
"I wasn't listening closely," he said quietly, shyly. For once he seemed ashamed that he was sticking so close to me. "Reading minds is easy, not reading minds is hard. Once I let myself into someone's mind, it's hard to stop. Most days I hear everyone's thoughts at once."
I frowned. "You can't turn down the volume with the click of a button. I get it. I'm sure you get a lot of headaches."
"Only when I was…" He stopped suddenly. His face registered shock. His took a deep breath. He'd almost revealed some secret he wasn't ready to let me know.
Darn. Too bad he caught himself before he'd blurted it out. Maybe it was his kryptonite. Or maybe he was about to say only when he was a trapeze artist. Not helpful.
"I thought you'd be safe when you were in the library," he continued, pretending like he hadn't almost slipped. "I made myself leave."
"Why?"
His eyes widened. He looked at me, angry his voice raised and rough. "Why? You think I find this amusing? I despise what I am becoming. I would be a happier man if I could leave you. Unfortunately I can't."
This was bad. I was feeling pity. I was able to see how this hurt him. "So your better nature made you leave and then…?"
"And then I came back," he said, exhaling heavily, angrily. "I didn't get very far."
"So you were listening to Jessica's and Angie's thoughts to follow me." I tilted my head. "But I was separate from them. How did you find me then?"
"Even if I haven't heard someone's thoughts before," he said, his head lifted, "I know what manner of being they are."
I could barely block the memory—the feeling, the smell, and the fear—and so I could understand. Edward had heard the tone of their voices—he knew what unsavory characters.
"I would've passed over them, I may not have noticed in time, but…" His eyes narrowed. "I saw your face, in his thoughts."
The third man stuck a hand in his other pocket and pulled out a small, white board. He turned it around. It was a photograph. "Look at her face. It's not her."
I shivered. Yes. He'd definitely taken a good long look at my face.
"The things they were thinking." Edward's teeth were clenched. The wheel creaked inside his hands.
"They were thinking of killing me." I hugged myself tightly. Remembering made me wonder if I might not be as tough as I'd hoped. "I know."
"They weren't going to simply kill you, Bella," he said, his voice a growl, an aggravated animal. "There are people in this world that can barely be called human, even if that's what they are. Those men—"
"Stop, stop it," I interrupted, my voice a screech. "I don't want to know."
"I'm sorry."
I pressed my forehead against the window. I wished there was something to see out there, to block the images from my mind. The questions that filled my mind—I wanted to know what those men had meant to do with me, but I knew that I wouldn't take it well. It was better to pretend I hadn't considered what worse things would come before death.
"You may find this difficult to believe—consider my track record with you—but I don't kill," he said, his voice desperate, needing me to understand him, accept him. "I've always restrained myself—but…"—he inhaled shakily, his voice gravelly, tense—"I heard them thinking that about you and I couldn't think anymore. I had to kill them."
I closed my eyes. The words he spoke were a terrible thing. His need to kill them made me feel safe. It was truly terrible.
"So you read minds. What else?"
Edward laughed. It was a hollow, lifeless life. "What else? I'm not terrifying you enough just yet?"
"You're quick, you're strong, you read minds," I listed. "I may be terrified, but I'm not going to stop asking questions."
"You would if you knew the answers," he warned.
"Of course," I agreed. "Why would anyone ask questions to which they already know the answers to? Unless the answers change over time—like the standard 'what's up' or 'how are you today', because if we're being honest I have to confess I ask those questions a lot."
"I've had enough of questions," he said tiredly. He rubbed his temple.
"I haven't."
"No more."
"Yes more."
Edward's head snapped in my direction, his nostrils flared. "Bella."
"I am freaking—really, really freaking out—and knowing you read minds and that I can someone block you makes me wonder what else is important," I rambled, waving my hands in the air, ready to explode. "What else matters about this weirdness between us! There's something going on here that is beyond anything I know."
Edward closed his eyes. "Later."
"Later?" I slammed my fist on the dash. "You're the one who freaked out when I mentioned salty blood! I think this means we talk right now—and talk about all of it!"
His eyes opened. "Thank you for reminding me."
I blinked. Uh-oh. Bad move, Bella.
"There are questions I have to ask you." He leaned across the car, ignoring the road, one hand on the wheel. "I think it's my turn."
AUTHOR'S NOTES: So, what did ya think? Cool? Not cool? Too gory? Not gory enough? lol I wrote this around the Halloween weekend, so it's a little spookier than I originally intended. NEXT CHAPTER, we get into the big vampire confession! Whooo! Peace out.
