Chapter 3

I raced past the rough brown tree trunks in the harsh dull half-light. I tasted a faint metallic scent and grimaced, heading deeper into the dense forestry until I careened onto a gray surface. My bare feet embraced the smooth, hard surface; my bedraggled, ice blue dress shimmering faintly.

I barrelled gracefully along it until I came to a plain, unremarkable brick house, trying to keep the overpowering aroma of human blood from clouding my thoughts, however uncomfortable going without breathing was. I could not afford to loose myself this time.

Whoever was in that house was about to get the scare of their life.

Focus. Right. I shifted into a crouch, aiming for the warm light spilling out from one of the Victorian windows on the second floor. Leaping up, I stealthily swung myself over and into it, the glittering glass having utterly no affect on my diamond-hard skin. The reflected light off of them caused my pale figure to glimmer for a moment with what light there was, promptly fading back into a pale white marble imitation.

My suspicions had been right: there was a human in this room.

Instead of being overwhelmed, as I had been on my hunting trip with Edward—just thinking that name hurt—the harsh reality of why I was here, along with the fact that I had already eaten, brought an adrenaline rush, clearing my mind of all else but tactics.

The human had greasy black hair and acne, frozen in the act of writing a letter.

I looked at the angle of his posture, calculating the best way to sling him over my back. He had to be taken warm. I grimaced.

At least I knew he wouldn't move anytime soon—he was frozen, staring at me—but it wasn't as if his movements wouldn't be predictable enough without that benefit.

Suddenly, with another rush of adrenaline, I shot forward, slinging him over my back, and then darting out the window, landing just right. If any other human came into close proximity, I knew I wouldn't be able to stop myself. I could feel the human's shuddering breaths, feel his racing heartbeat.

I ran flat out towards and along the road, agony enveloping me as blood, warm and amazingly appealing, pumped throughout the victim of my mistakes. His body was too close: I wanted to sink my teeth into the arms around my shoulders. I wanted to tear that worthless human apart until there was not one drop of blood left for me to drink. For a moment, I didn't care that this was Edward's cure, that if I drank out of this human now, it would bleed to death and the blood would be cold and unsatisfying. But I couldn't. I remembered Edward in the meadow, beautiful. And all that wit, all that beautiful perfection would never be mine again. Unless…the Voultri? No. Not if there was another way to save Edward first.

I turned at the Cullen's house, positioning my feet to jump through the window. I could feel two other heartbeats downstairs, none of which smelled very appetizing.

I headed strait for Edward, hearing Alice and Jasper right behind me, a strange gasp broke from behind me, but neither did I have the time or patience to see what was disturbing them.

Carlisle must already have been upstairs. I was with him in an instant, handing over the human that would save Edward's life to Alice, all the while longing to drink that highly satisfying crimson liquid.

Edward's head lay motionless against a white table. He must have been awake, though, because the moment Eric came through the door with me, his head snapped up. He got up fluidly, only to stagger back into Carlisle's waiting arms as his strength failed him.

At that moment, I wished I couldn't see Carlisle's face. On it was a mixture of pain and agony, the decision to save Edward mixing with his intense dislike of violence and his vegetarian philosophy. And something else…I couldn't place that extra thought…surprise?...concern?

Would Carlisle ever forgive me? I didn't know. Probably not.

But that didn't matter. Not this second. Edward mattered. He was staggering towards that brown-eyed human with shaky movements. I couldn't even catch his gaze. I was a coward. Now I knew of Edward's constant self-hatred. Because I felt it, only for a better reason—and ten times worse.

My eyes followed him longingly, warily.

I only spared a glance in the paralyzed human's direction before my brain finally processed the feelings that I had ignored earlier from Carlisle and Alice.

Eric.