22. HIDE-AND-SEEK (PT. 2)
I jumped out of the shuttle and ran to the cab, sliding into the seat behind the driver. The tired couple and the shuttle driver stared at me. I told him my mother's address. "I need to get there as soon as possible."
"That's in Scottsdale," he complained.
I threw four twenties over the seat.
"Will that be enough?"
"Sure, kid, no problem."
"Really?" I said. "Because it was starting to sound like you did have a problem with me being here." My nerves were wound tight, and this cabbie was rubbing me up the wrong way. Why should money have to make such a difference to this? What happened to being nice? To taking people places because that's where they wanted to go?
"Look, just close the door so we can get a move on!" He sounded frustrated and in a hurry. Well, I wasn't going to let him get off that easily.
"So that's it?" I said. "I show you the money and you're la-di-dah fine, but before that, you won't even help a girl out."
"Kid, I don't have time for this. Close the door and stop yelling, or just get off."
"You still want my money though, don't you?" I said. "You'll have to give it back if you don't take me."
"I don't have to do nuthin'."
"The customer's always right, mister."
The cabbie threw up his hands and said loudly, "All right, that's it. I've had enough."
"Oh, you wanna take this outside?" I said, just to get at him further. It was ridiculous the way he was making so much fuss over this. After all, he was in the wrong.
"You know what, kid? I do. I've had enough of you," said the driver.
"You said that already," I noted, but he didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he swung open his door and jumped out.
"Erm, excuse me," said the man from the couple in the back. "We'd like to go to our hotel, if you don't mind."
"I'll be a minute or two, sir, and if you don't like it, you can leave," said the driver, then slammed his door and glared at me, his watery blue eyes protruding from his reddening face. He muttered something I didn't quite catch, though it seemed to have to do with 'kids these days'.
We squared up and faced each other at the front of the car, both ignoring the soft but insistent tapping coming from the backseat window.
"Come on," I said. "Throw a punch. You know you want to. Or are you just too scared? Won't hit a girl?"
The driver's face turned an even more unhealthy shade of purple. I could tell I'd broken him. He took a large step towards me, raised his hand, and—
Well, not much happened straight after that, because somebody was holding him back.
At first I thought I was dreaming—but no, it was Edward, all right.
He was back from his flight.
"Edward?" I breathed. He ignored me.
"She's really quite a nice person, normally," he apologised to the driver. "She just gets a little worked up sometimes."
He guided me gently in the opposite direction from the shuttle, and steered me back the way I had come.
I was still a little too shocked to register anything, but a hundred feet or so later, I came to with a snap and realised something very important. I'd left 80 bucks to a driver who didn't end up driving me anywhere! He hadn't given my fare back! I turned to Edward and said innocently, "Actually, you know what? You go on ahead. I have something I need to do."
I batted away his protests and ran back. I hoped I wasn't too late to catch the shuttle as it, and my fare, left. And, come to think of it, I had a little something to take care of—or should I say, somebody.
Oh, yeah. This time, that cabbie was going down.
*.*.*
(Back to normal, minus the cabbie smackdowns, and said cabbie has dropped Bella off in Scottsdale.)
"Here we are, then." He was anxious to get me out of his car, probably hoping I wouldn't ask for my change.
"Thank you," I whispered. There was no need to be afraid, I reminded myself. The house was empty. I had to hurry; my mom was waiting for me, frightened, depending on me.
I ran to the door, reaching up automatically to grab the key under the eave.
It wasn't there. In frustration I bashed on the wood of the door, then remembered that nobody was home. Oh well. At least there was nobody around to witness my stupidity.
But to my surprise I heard footsteps coming up the passageway. The door opened, and a man with dark hair, about thirty years old, peered around the edge of it.
He looked around furtively, and then examined me. "You're younger than I thought you'd be," he said. "But come in. We don't want the police to catch us."
Confused and curious, I let him lead me inside.
*.*.*
Three hours later, I emerged from that house a new woman. Now, I had friends in low places. Now, I was armed. Now, I—
Well, to be honest, I was tripping down the steps. I picked myself up, shook my hair, and tried to regain my poise.
Where was I? Oh, yes.
Now, I could take on James, no problem. So, world, meet Bella Swan, criminal mastermind in training and vampire hunter extraordinaire.
That was when I stumbled over my own feet again. Maybe I'd better just work on the clumsiness factor first...
*.*.*
(Bella has arrived at the ballet studio.)
He took a step back and touched a palm-sized digital video camera balanced carefully on top of the stereo. A small red light indicated that it was already running. He adjusted it a few times, widened the frame. I stared at him in horror.
"I'm sorry, but I just don't think he'll be able to resist hunting me after he watches this. And I wouldn't want him to miss anything. It was all for him, of course. You're simply a human, who unfortunately was in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and indisputably running with the wrong crowd, I might add."
The wrong crowd? The Cullens were the wrong crowd? That did it. I'd been through a lot since that baseball game, but this took the cake. Who was he to tell me who my friends were? "Don't you tell me who I can and cannot hang out with! It's none of your business, anyway!" I yelled at him.
"Bella, Bella, Bella," James said condescendingly. "You can't seriously believe they're good for you. They're a real fast set."
"It's just the way they are!"
"And on a 'special diet', too. I'd like to know what it really is."
"It's just animal blood!" I said, though I knew I was fighting a losing battle.
"Oh, I'm sure that's what it is!" He smiled cruelly, and suddenly I was scared. "Well, young lady, you're not going to be 'hanging out' with them for much longer."
"What? No! You don't mean you're—"
"Grounding you, yes. You're to stay confined to your room at all times. Meanwhile, I'm going to try and hunt this young man of yours down. Give him a good 'talking to', if you know what I mean..."
"What? You can't do this to me, James! You're not my father!"
But he didn't answer, instead leaving the building at a swift run almost too fast to see. I waited a good fifteen seconds for him to get as far away as possible, and then grinned. Alice would see this coming. And anyway, hadn't James ever heard of sneaking out?
23. ANGEL
And then I knew I was dead.
Because, through the heavy water, I heard the sound of an angel calling my name...
"Oh no, Bella, no!" the angel's voice cried in horror. Behind that longed-for sound was 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.
I can hear you, I wanted to say. But I couldn't find my lips.
"Carlisle!" the angel called, agony in his voice. "Bella, Bella, no, oh please, no, no!" And the angel was sobbing tearless, broken sobs.
I could barely take it anymore.
I cried out, gasping, breaking through the dark pool. "Edward!"
"Bella!" the angel cried. "Bella, speak to me, anything, please!"
"Edward..." I said again, gasping for breath. Speaking had taken a lot of effort.
He grasped my hand eagerly. "Yes, Bella. Oh, Bella, what is it?"
"You... sound... like a broken... record..."
*.*.*
(Edward is, as we speak, mightily resisting temptation and sucking James' venom out of Bella's body.)
I sighed contentedly. The fire was gone, the other pains dulled by a sleepiness seeping through my body.
"Is it all out?" Carlisle asked.
"Her blood tastes clean," Edward said quietly. "I can taste the morphine. Actually, aside from that, she tastes kinda good."
"Give me a sip," said Alice. "I—I mean, I want to be sure she's fine."
I felt a slight pressure of her lips on my hand, and then they were gone. "Mm, I think you're right."
"Maybe I'd better have another taste, just to be sure..."
"You do that," said Alice.
Edward took another sip of my blood. "Mm. It... it tastes kinda like chicken."
"You can remember chicken?" asked Carlisle, interested.
"Hey," said Edward. "I've been inside a dozen so-called 'vegetarian's' minds."
Alice laughed. "I don't think Bella tastes like chicken. It's sort of more of a cherry-tart, custard, pineapple, roast turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast kind of taste. I think I'd better have another sip to be sure."
Edward laughed. "Don't drink too much, Alice."
By that time the pain had relaxed its grip on me and I was strong enough to sit up and snatch my hand away from the two greedy vampires.
"Oh, no, you don't!" I said. "I happen to need that blood, you know!"
I eyed them severely. They hung their heads.
"Now, what do you say?" I asked, crossing my arms.
"Sorry, Bella," they mumbled.
"And?"
"And we won't do it again."
"Good." I lay back down, exhausted. Two minutes later, I felt a cold hand on my arm. It was beginning to go numb, but I could still tell that somebody was trying to move it.
I felt the faintest touch of somebody's lips on my skin.
"No!" I said strongly.
"Sorry," came whisper, whether Alice's or Edward's I could not tell.
They sure didn't try that again.
