MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Bella
I'm finally alone in my apartment and I'm determined to hold it together, even though a couple of hours ago I'd witnessed my ex-boyfriend being hauled off to hospital in an ambulance; hauled being the appropriate word as it took four guys to lift him onto the stretcher. I still can't believe he was still alive when the paramedics arrived as a witness said he'd been run over at least three times, but he was just about breathing when they took him away.
Neither Jay nor I saw it happen; we just heard it. Apparently the car knocked him in the air, reversed over him, drove forward, spun around then drove over him again before driving off, but the one and only credible witness didn't have her glasses on so couldn't read the car's license plate. She just reported to the police that the car was silver, had tinted windows and was an unusual shape.
Jacob was face-down and unconscious after the accident, but when the paramedics turned him over I could see he was clutching an evil-looking serrated-edge knife in his right hand; the tip of which was now embedded in his throat under his chin. This was the moment when my legs went from underneath me and Jay had to help me back to the car as I was on the point of collapsing. I was convinced then that Jake had intended to kill me, or at least kidnap me if he'd caught me, so whoever the driver was he had probably saved my life.
He, (of course it could've been a she I suppose), may have just spotted a guy with a knife in his hand and was a spur of the moment vigilante, or someone had been watching my back, like in Forks on Saturday. What was worrying me the most though was how easily Jacob had tracked me down just from the parking permit in my car and had somehow managed to follow me home, which must mean Paul could still in the vicinity somewhere. My guess was he'd witnessed what happened to Jake and had made a run for it.
The police were very kind when I admitted I knew Jacob. I told them to contact Forks Police who would fill them in with everything they needed to know about his crazy obsession with me. Fortunately they believed me when I said I had no idea who was in the car but I suppose being the daughter of a Chief of Police probably helped convince them I was telling the truth. After they'd checked my story with Forks Police then taken mine and Jay's statements, they left after assuring me that if Jacob survived this time, he would be held under armed guard in hospital and I wouldn't have to worry about him escaping any more. I wanted to believe this, but until Jake is permanently behind bars I don't think I'll ever be able to relax. When the police finally left, Jay stayed with me in my apartment for about an hour until I convinced him I was okay and he could go home.
I called Charlie while Jay was here to tell him what had happened. He already knew the basics as he'd just been on the phone with Billy who was in a car on the way to the hospital. I told Charlie that whoever knocked Jake down did it deliberately so there was a guardian angel in a silver car out there looking out for me. I didn't say this to him but I had a feeling I knew who it was.
Even though I'd succeeded in convincing Jay I was okay before I pushed him out the door, it's obvious I'm not. There's only so much a girl can take in one day and I'm definitely feeling worn out, light-headed and totally shell-shocked. Finding out about the catastrophic earthquake and tsunami was the start of it. Having a showdown with Jim and then the Mayor was next. Seeing Jake badly injured on the road was the final straw for me, and all of this on top of Charlie being terminally ill and my sort-of-obsession with Hoodie Guy being in the back of my mind the whole time.
I wash my face and change out of my work clothes, putting on an over-sized, warm sweatshirt with some almost-new jogging pants I'd bought in Scotland with the intention of running in. They'd yet to experience me breaking into anything more than a fast walk but at least they're comfy and perfect for relaxing in, which is what I need to do. I make myself a pile of toast and a mug of hot chocolate, put my new electric fire on and curl up under a blanket on the sofa.
I haven't bothered to close the drapes and as I munch my toast, I stare at the remnants of the message Hoodie Guy had drawn on the window. It had almost disappeared due to the rain, which was fortunate as I would've had a lot of explaining to do if Jay had noticed it while he was here. In the message Hoodie Guy had promised to make himself known to me when I'd worked out the meaning behind the murals. It was well and truly worked out now, so I couldn't figure out why he hadn't tried to make contact with either of us, unless of course he considered it was still too dangerous, even though I had no idea what he meant by this.
As I stew over this, I take the decision that this cat and mouse game has gone on long enough. I drag myself off the sofa feeling determined to bring this to a head, so using another sheet of paper from the bundle Jessica gave me, I write him a message in big, bold letters. In fact I write it twice, one for each window so he won't miss it.
Come up! I'm staying up all night until you do. Please use the stairs this time. It's a lot EASIER!"
"Ha!" I proclaim out loud when I write the word 'Easier'. If he is the outrageously good-looking Mr Golden Eyes, then he'll know I've worked out it's him.
I stick the message in the windows, turn on every light in the apartment which hopefully will keep me from falling asleep, and wait, and wait. I don't even put the TV on so I can hear him coming up the stairs, but I'm not holding out much hope that, (a) he's out there, or (b), he'll take the bait.
At around nine-thirty I'm considering making some coffee to help me stay awake when I have the feeling he's outside my door. I haven't heard anyone enter the building or come up the stairs, and no-one has knocked, but my instincts are telling me he's there. I don't feel frightened, but the familiar prickly feeling is travelling down my spine again, my breathing rate has increased rapidly and I can feel my blood thumping in my ears as I wait for the knock. When it finally comes I shriek.
My legs are like jell-o as I roll myself off the sofa and make my way to the door. I can sense my face is on fire and I feel as though I should be sweating I'm so hot. I touch my forehead with the back of my hand to check; it's bone dry but my skin feels as though it's burning. I try to look through the spy hole but the image is just a fuzzy blur as though I can't focus my eyes.
I take a deep breath, get hold of the handle and open the door a crack so I can peer out onto the dimly lit corridor. He's there, standing with his back against the far wall almost as though he's frightened of me. He's absolutely still, and when I say still, he's like a cardboard cut-out. His face doesn't move; his body doesn't move; it's like he's frozen to the spot.
It's plainly evident when I look at him that I'm in the presence of someone who isn't your average, normal human. This guy, Easy, or whatever his name really is, is different to any man I'd seen before; how, I cannot explain. He just looks unworldly standing in my hallway and even more so now than when I had my first close look at him at the art club. There he reminded me of a character from a Renaissance painting. Now, in this light, he resembles a classical statue which has jumped off its pedestal, got dressed, and is now propped up in my hallway.
I can feel my face getting hotter as I open the door and the light seeping from my room illuminates him fully. His 'not-so-golden' eyes are fixed on me and I feel as though I'm in the presence of a Greek god who has returned to earth. I've never before seen such a beautiful man in my entire life and my head starts to swim. I manage to mumble 'Easy' to let him know I recognize him and hear him reply his name is Edward and then everything suddenly goes black.
I come round in his arms which is a shock. We're on the sofa and he's holding me gently against his chest while I return to the land of the living. I notice his hands are cold; I can feel them through my sweatshirt. Then I realize there's no warmth emanating from the rest of his body either which is strange. At least this is helping to bring my temperature down but it feels as though I'm lying on a refrigerated slab on a hot day.
I stare up at his face and realize that in this light, his ivory-colored skin really does resemble marble. I can't stop myself but have to touch it, so I gently run my fingertips over his cheek and surprisingly he doesn't object. His skin is soft and smooth, but seems to be stretched over a hard surface. There's no 'give' under my fingers and that's all the evidence I need to convince me that Edward is not of this world.
As I examine his face I realize where I've seen it before and my mind flashes back to a precious afternoon almost a year ago when I stood before his likeness in Florence and marveled at the epitome of manliness towering above me.
"Your face reminds me of Michelangelo's statue of David," I whisper. "Your skin is like polished marble," I add to support my observation.
"One day I'll tell you a story about Michelangelo," he replies quietly and there's a hint of humor and also a trace of the strange accent in his voice again, which hadn't been there when I spoke to him at the art club. "You don't know how close to the truth you are," he adds as he searches my face possibly for clues as to what I'm thinking.
"Are you Michelangelo, Edward?" I ask and it's a genuine question. I don't believe in reincarnation but if he confirmed to me he was Michelangelo in a previous life I would totally believe him.
"No," he laughs and then he bends over me and gently touches his lips against my forehead then brushes my hair away from my face. He looks pained for a second as though he's debating what to say next and then he smiles at me.
"Michelangelo was my student and my friend, Bella. Years later, when he was at his absolute peak, he asked me to pose for him. So I can tell you, completely honestly, that you're in the arms of the man who was and always shall be, the living manifestation of the Statue of David."
I freeze in his arms as I digest what he's just divulged to me. I believe him, but by this he must mean that he'd been Michelangelo's teacher in a previous life. I swallow several times before asking him my next question.
"Have you lived before, Edward?"
He shakes his head and pulls me into his chest even closer. I guess he doesn't want to see my face when he tells me what he means by his statement, just in case I'm shocked at what I wouldn't be able to guess in a million years.
"No, Bella, I'm not reincarnated," he replies almost apologetically. "In fact I'm not anyone you've ever heard of. I've lived many lives, but I've never been reborn. What I mean by this is that my memory goes back to the time before the Renaissance."
He moves me on his lap then so he can properly see my face before he carries on telling me his story.
"For a while I studied at Ghirlandaio's workshop in Florence, which I guess you already know was where Michelangelo perfected his craft. By the time Michelangelo first came to us as a young man in the late 1400's, I had already established myself as a teacher there. But Michelangelo wasn't there long before it became plainly evident there was nothing I could teach him, and in fact I effectively became a student of his and we became good friends. I walked the streets of that city with him for several seasons, and then Venice and Bologna and finally Rome, where I was with him when he died in 1564. I also collaborated with other artists of that time when they needed help on projects and spoke several times with the genius, Da Vinci, but he was suspicious of me so I let him be."
As Edward is quietly telling me his story above my head, I listen in wonder as he tells me about his incredible past. I want to believe him, but this would mean he's between five and six hundred years old, because Michelangelo was nearly ninety when he died in 1564, and my brain cannot compute this anomaly. I'm in the arms of a strong, young man; not Methuselah. He's stops speaking for a moment then sighs and carries on talking.
"Over the centuries I've worked with painters and sculptors whose works are now scattered all over the world. I could tell you what was in their hearts when they created their masterpieces, Bella. I can remember the smell of their studios. I lived with their poverty as very few of them were wealthy. I can recall their despair when their art didn't turn out as they wished or was rejected by their sponsors. I've grieved a thousand times as these artists passed away and I'm left with only memories. As I said, I've lived many lives, Bella, but they roll on one after another, never ending."
He goes quiet again and I presume he's giving me time to digest what he's imparted, which is mind-blowing. I have no reason to doubt him because the man who is holding me is not a man in the true sense of the word, but what is he? I need him to start from the beginning so ask him an obvious question.
"How old are you, Edward?"
I didn't realize he'd been tense while he was talking to me because when I ask him this he relaxes his arms so I don't feel 'imprisoned' in his embrace anymore; not that I'm complaining of course. He touches my cheek gently with his cool fingertips then turns my face so I'm looking up at him. I can see he has a look of incredulity in his eyes, as though he's trying to work me out.
"Aren't you curious about how I've lived for so long? Aren't you concerned that I'm not the same as you? Are you not frightened of me for those reasons?"
"No," I reply. "Why should I be frightened of you?" and then add, "Should I be frightened of you, Edward?"
"Absolutely not," he insists vehemently. "I'm not going to hurt you, Bella. I'm just amazed that you aren't running from me, because most humans would as it's a natural instinct to distance yourself from something you don't understand."
I pull myself up so we're on eye-level and place my hands on either side of his face, primarily to show him that I'm not frightened of him, but also because I want him to know I'm sincere about what I'm just about to say to him.
"I knew you were different from the moment I laid eyes on you at the Aquarium, Edward. I've never been frightened of you, even when you were here in my room watching me sleep. You're an artist, Edward, and I learned something of your soul when I saw your drawings and how you painted them. I haven't been on this earth as long as you; I doubt nobody has, but I've spent my formative years looking into the souls of artists and studying them, and I've fallen in love with them as I learned more about them through their work."
Edward opens his mouth to say something but I touch his lips with my finger to stop him and then I smile as I know how I'm going to placate him.
"I want to show you something, Edward, and tell you my story. A year ago I went to Florence and fell in love for the first time in my life. I have a picture of the man I fell in love with on my cell phone and I want to show him to you. You may know him."
"I seriously doubt it," he growls. "I'm going to kill the bastard when I meet him though."
I reach behind me and grab my phone which is on my excuse for a coffee table and hit the on button. Displayed on the screen is the object of my desire; 'object' being the appropriate word in this case. I snuggle into Edward again and show him the picture.
"Hmmmm," he sighs sounding relieved. "So you've been in love with me for a whole year already then?"
"Absolutely," I confirm and then I giggle like a schoolgirl. "Is this a true likeness, Edward, in every way?"
He looks at me strangely and then howls with laughter as he catches on to what I'm getting at.
"Are you willing to find out?" he says and then he realizes what he's implied and starts to back-track. "I'm sorry; that comment was totally inappropriate of me. I apologise, Bella."
"Don't apologize," I say then sit up again and boldly kiss his lips. "I'm willing, but I've a feeling you're not. Am I right?"
Edward nods his head and looks down at his hands which are now in tight fists.
"It's not that I don't want to, Bella. I've wanted to ever since I opened the door for you in the store and even more so when we met at the art club. I don't think I could control myself if I made love to you and I could end up hurting you."
I was at a loss what to say, but when I thought about it I know I have to ask the question, even though I'm not bothered what the answer is.
"Edward, you're obviously not an ordinary human, so what are you? Don't keep it a secret from me; I need to know and I promise I won't run."
Edward shakes his head from side to side and I can see he's fighting an internal battle with himself. If he told me he was from Venus I couldn't care. If he told me he'd sold his soul to the Devil in exchange for eternal life I couldn't care either; I just needed to know.
I wait patiently until he lifts his face and looks at me. His right hand brushes my hair from my cheek but he holds it there as he opens his mouth to speak.
"Bella, I'm ….."
At that exact moment my cell rings and I see Charlie's face appear on the screen. I'm torn whether to answer it or ignore it and listen to what Edward has to say. In the end I grab the phone and hit the button.
"Hi dad! Is everything okay?"
"Bella, the hospital's just rung," he replies excitedly. "They've found a possible donor. I've got to get to Seattle tonight and be ready to have the operation. I'm just calling you to ask you to meet me there. I want to see you before they give me the anesthetic just in case I don't wake up."
"Oh My God," I shriek. "How are you getting there?"
"The Park Ranger's helicopter's on its way to pick me up now. I guess I'll get to the hospital in just over an hour. Can you meet me there?"
"Of course I will; which hospital, dad?"
"University of Washington Medical Center in Pacific Street; they're calling the transplant team now."
"Does this mean you're having the operation tonight?"
"I don't know; I'll find out more when I get there. I can't believe it, Bella. I never thought this would happen. I've gotta go; I've gotta get a bag packed."
"Okay dad. Don't forget to call Sue. If she calls round for you tomorrow and you don't reply she'll think you're dead."
Charlie laughs at this and assures me he would call her then hangs up.
I'm still sitting on Edward's lap who has heard every word. He puts his arms around me and pulls me into his chest again and as he holds me I start to cry as I can't believe my prayers are being answered for once. I'd resigned myself to being alone in the world before the end of the year. Now Charlie was possibly getting a transplant and I'm in the arms of a man who may or may not be immortal. Life doesn't get much better or stranger than this.
And then I remember the earthquake and the tsunami.
And dad would probably still be in High Dependency when it hit.
And the hospital was in the danger zone.
"Oh Shit!"
"What's the matter," Edward asks as I'm sure I've stopped breathing when the implications of what was going to happen hit home.
"The hospital, Edward. It'll be hit by the tsunami. Even if it doesn't get destroyed by the earthquake, it'll probably lose all its power when it's flooded. We've got to warn them."
"We can't," Edward replies and pulls me towards him again and kisses the top of my head. "We can't do anything until the Mayor declares an emergency. Hopefully this'll give the hospital enough time to evacuate the patients. Don't worry about it for now. Let's get to the hospital so you can see your dad."
"I'll call a cab," I say as I make moves to climb off his lap.
"No need; my car is a few blocks away. You sort yourself out while I get it and I'll see you outside in five, okay?"
"Okay," I say gratefully and kiss him then run to the bathroom to clean my face while he walks out the door.
I stare at my puffy eyes in the mirror wondering what the hell this gorgeous man sees in me. But if he isn't a man, what is he? Was he just about to tell me when Charlie called? It would take us a while to drive to the hospital so I could ask him again in the car, but as I said to him I didn't care what he was because I was already hopelessly in love with him.
Edward
I run down the hill to the parking lot and retrieve the Volvo from its hiding place then cautiously drive back to Bella's street, hoping the police aren't on the lookout for a silver Volvo in the area. Even though I'm certain no-one memorized my license plate as it would've been reported by now, I'm sure my car had been described to the police and silver Volvo's were not a common sight around Seattle. Also my tire treads would certainly match the ones on Black's clothing so I'd have to change these as soon as I get home as it's inevitable the cops will check every silver Volvo in a fifty mile radius.
Bella is already on the sidewalk when I pull up. I noticed her catch her breath when she sees the car approaching so I guess she's already put two and two together and realizes this is the car which forced Black to kiss the asphalt. As she climbs in she turns to me and I'm expecting her to question me, but instead she says, "Thank you, Edward."
"What for?"
"For saving my life today and I'm guessing last Saturday as well. Jacob was going to kill me this time for definite. He had a pretty nasty-looking knife in his hand when the paramedics turned him over. How on earth did you find out he was in Seattle?"
"It's a long story, Bella, and I promise I'll tell you everything soon, but let's just concentrate on your dad now. While I'm driving you can tell me all about him, okay?"
"Okay," she says quietly and places her hand on my forearm and gives it a gentle squeeze, then she grins as I'm not very pliable.
The roads are relatively quiet at this time of night so I guess it won't take us long to get to the hospital. I keep well within the speed limit though as I don't want to attract the attention of any cops, especially with Bella in the car which wouldn't look good. On the journey, Bella tells me about her family circumstances, starting with her mother and her lecherous step-father which was the reason she'd moved back to live with her dad for the last few years of high school. She told me she'd dated Jacob Black for about six months and then escaped from Forks leaving him frustrated and furious. Then she told me her father had been diagnosed with liver cancer in January and his only hope of survival was a transplant but this could only be carried out if the cancer hadn't spread. She also said he had a weird blood type so the chances of finding a donor were a million to one, so this opportunity would no doubt be his one and only chance of survival.
She hero-worshiped her father and said she now wished she'd lived with him and not gone to Florida with her mom when the marriage failed. He sounded like a great guy and I hoped for her sake he survived the operation and then the evacuation. If the Mayor didn't act, I'd have to try to enlist the help of Carlisle who may have contacts who could get him moved. Other than this, her father's survival was now at the mercy of either the Mayor or Mother Nature.
She hadn't told me yet what the reaction of her bosses was when she reported to them what she'd seen drawn on Johnson Hall so I ask her.
"The Mayor didn't believe us at first," she replies philosophically. "I can't blame him though; no-one in their right mind would accept that someone was able to predict the future without more evidence."
"What do you mean by 'at first'," I ask. "Does he believe you now?"
"I don't know. When we left his office he was calling the seismic guys at PNSN. I'm sure we'll hear tomorrow morning what's happening. If he doesn't do anything, Jay is going to let the press know. It's our only option."
I feared this would happen if the city didn't take the bait. If the press got hold of it I might as well call Aro and tell him what I'd done as it would get back to him instantly, and then he'd have the bona fide excuse he'd been desperately waiting for to order me back to Volterra and that would be it for me. My only chance of surviving this was if the Mayor and his subordinates and the press never mentioned the fact that a psychic had predicted the disaster but were acting on scientific evidence alone.
"Can you really predict the future, Edward?" Bella asks.
"No, I can't, but I know someone who can ... "
I was going to add, 'Is it okay just to leave it like that for the moment?' but Bella interrupts.
"You mean someone like you. Do you know other people like you, who live a long time?"
"Yes, but don't ask me any more questions for a while, Bella. I'm not ready to tell you the whole story yet, but can you trust me that I will soon?"
"Okay," she replies and I can tell she's disappointed.
"I promise," I repeat then I take hold of her left hand, bring it up to my mouth and kiss it. She smiles up at me and I know she believes me. However I still haven't decided whether to tell her the whole truth about why I am as I am as I know she'll run away screaming, and selfishly I don't want this; at least not yet.
We arrive at the hospital just after ten-thirty and park nearby. I offer to wait in the car but she asks me to come in with her. I'm reluctant to go but I can tell she needs support and it would be churlish of me to refuse. If the doctors are planning to operate tonight then she may be kissing her father goodbye for the last time. If the transplant doesn't take, there'll be no going back for him and he would probably die without coming round from the anesthetic.
As we walk towards the doors we hear the distinctive throbbing sound of a helicopter coming into land nearby. We can't see it but we guess it's her dad's ride which has got him here much quicker than anticipated. The Park Rangers must think really highly of him to gift him this trip I muse, which makes me believe Bella's gushing praise of him even more.
I let Bella go up to the reception desk where we're directed to a waiting area. I'm used to being in hospitals because of Carlisle's previous career and could tune out the smell of blood and other human scents which combine with all the other aromas associated with trauma. Anyway, sitting next to Bella and drinking in her scent is enough distraction from what's going on around me but I'm totally in control of my instincts now and she isn't in any danger from me anymore.
We wait for about twenty minutes until a nurse puts her head around the door and spots Bella. "Your father's ready to see you now, dear," she says kindly. "Come with me."
I get up as well and follow Bella out the door and down a long corridor, but when we're outside her dad's room I hang back as the last thing he needs to see is a strange guy with his daughter. He's got quite enough on his plate at the moment. Bella goes in and closes the door but I can still hear their conversation quite clearly. I'm only eavesdropping so I'll be prepared for Bella's state of mind when she has to leave him.
"So when are you having the operation, dad?" she asks.
"I'm not sure," he replies in gruff voice. "The doctors are going to run some tests on me tonight and they'll be doing the same on the donated liver just to see whether it's suitable for transplant before they cut me open."
"Do you know anything about the donor," Bella asks.
"No, but I doubt whether they'll tell me anything. It's not something they normally discuss with the recipient. I'm just grateful to the family for allowing it to happen."
"I'm grateful too," she responds and I heard her sniff so she's obviously crying.
"Don't get upset, Bells," her dad says and I hear the sound of him pulling some Kleenex out of a box. "We've got the opportunity to think positively for once. The last few months I've had no hope. Now I've got a chance. If it doesn't work out what have I lost? A few months of pain and suffering, that's all. This is the best way, Bella, even if I don't wake up after the operation."
"Don't say that, dad," she cries and now she's sobbing and I feel helpless.
At this point two doctors appear at the far end of the corridor and are slowly walking towards where I'm standing. I can hear their conversation as easily as if I'm walking next to them but what they are discussing in their hushed tones chills me to my already cold bones.
"Extraordinary piece of luck, Simon. A young man was hit by a car this afternoon and brought in half-dead. He's a giant; well over six and a half feet and weighing nearly three hundred pounds and not an ounce of fat on him. He's all muscle, which is a good thing for us as his physique helped to protect his organs from the impact. We gave him the benefit of the doubt and kept him alive so we could run all the usual tests, but the EEG monitors showed clearly he's brain-dead so there's no point continuing treatment. Now that his father's seen the evidence and agrees there's no hope of recovery, we'll be switching off his life-support tonight. His father has already given permission for his organs to be harvested but we'll only able to use his liver and corneas because of his rare blood type."
"So how did you pick up so quickly he had the same blood as Charlie Swan?" the other much younger doctor asks.
"After the brain death declaration I ran his information through the transplant database, not thinking that anybody on the list would be compatible, and hey presto, Charlie Swan's name came up. Million to one chance, Simon, and he was nearby."
By this time the doctors have reached me and the one called Simon gives me a searching look, obviously wondering why I'm loitering here.
"Daughter's boyfriend," I say and shrug my shoulders.
"Good man!" the other doctor comments as he goes through the door where I just catch sight of Bella in the arms of her father.
As the door closes in front of me again the horrifying truth of everything I'd just learned takes root in my head. For a start, I'd presumed I'd killed Black outright, so this was news to me that he was still alive when the ambulance arrived. This fact pales into significance against the knowledge that Bella's father is more than likely just about to receive Jacob Black's liver, so somewhere in Charlie's background there must be Native American ancestors which is why Black and Charlie are a compatible match. But even the horrifying possibility that Charlie life is about to be saved by the bastard who was trying to kill his daughter is not the most worrying factor I've got to come to terms with and possibly deal with.
When I attacked Jacob on Saturday and ended up covered in his blood, it was obvious he was on the turn. He wasn't a werewolf yet, but the tell-tale stench was there and I smelt it immediately; so did Carlisle. It wasn't even five days since I'd smashed Black to pieces but he'd healed sufficiently in this short period of time to be capable of balancing on the back of a motorbike, run up a hill, admittedly with a limp, and supposedly feel capable of wielding a knife, so there's a strong chance he'd already made the transition.
I don't know much about medicine, but I have to assume there's a possibility that if Bella's father is implanted with Jacob's liver he might become infected with the lycanthrope gene, especially if he already has a compatible blood type. I know then I have to make a call before this goes any further, even if it means Charlie not having the transplant. I walk away from the door, pull out my cell, hit the right number and wait.
He answers almost immediately.
"Son," he says curtly.
"Carlisle, I need your advice, I need your help, and I need it now."
What do you think Carlisle is going to say? It's a bit of a sticky situation as it's probably the only chance Charlie has of surviving. Would Edward want to take it away from him? If Charlie does have the transplant and is infected, the doctors and nurses will have to be very careful where they stick any needles, just in case their patient gets mad - just sayin'.
This is another complication in Bella's already overloaded life. It's Wednesday night, so if the operation happens on Thursday morning and the earthquake is due to happen on Monday night, this means Charlie has less than five days to get well enough to be transferred in time, which is cutting it a bit fine, even with a werewolf's liver!
It's now become very personal to her that the Mayor gives the order to evacuate the city or Charlie will be at risk. Time is running out, so if the Mayor refuses to believe her and Jay, then they'll have no option but to go to the TV stations and tell the press tomorrow, which means Edward's life would be in serious jeopardy.
Joan xx
PS: There'll be no more repetition in this story from now on. Promise!