Disclaimer: SMeyer owns "Twilight." Elysabeth owns "Les Yeux de la Lune."
And what I realized translating this chapter: French has many more words for "bruise" than English has. Odd.
Chapter 6: Rescue
I found their minds first. Minds dripping with such ugliness and debauchery that they hit me even before I reached the town. Human minds hazy with alcohol, wandering the streets in search of entertainment. My hands squeezed the steering wheel while their explicit imaginings passed before my own mind's eye. The Volvo almost shook at the roar of fury that escaped me. One of the minds, that of the leader, the most vicious, barbaric and sick, was delighting already in what was to come.
I saw through his perverted eyes my Bella lost in a dark, deserted street lined with rundown buildings. What was she doing there? Why had Angela abandoned her, left her to her own devices? She should never have been in such a place, and I was angry with Angela even though I didn't know the circumstances that had led Bella to that seedy neighborhood. Even more, I was angry with myself. Had I not promised myself to watch over her for the rest of her life?
But my guilt and rancor were buried by my rage. The gang was following Bella at a distance, the leader, Lonnie, in front. In his way, he was a monster just like me. But an even more abject one because he wanted this act of violence, enjoyed it, while I was disgusted by the monster in me.
I saw in his mind that the sort of encounter he was planning was nothing new for him. The excitement of the hunt was familiar; he had left behind a considerable number of victims. I was sickened by his mental recounting of his previous targets. Girls with glassy eyes, lying lifeless in alleys, their faces mixed with images of Bella. For him, they were all the same.
He was a predator as much as I was, but he would soon learn what it was to be the prey. For he would be mine tonight. Without a doubt. It could not be otherwise. He didn't deserve to walk this earth, to breathe the same air as she did. Bella was next on his list, but he, he was on mine.
This wasn't my first hunt either. I had already tracked his sort. Suddenly I was as excited as he was. For so long I had led a life of abstinence, for so long I had not given my baser instinct free rein. Tonight, the monster in me would be slaked. It would serve my cause. For this one night, I wouldn't hate it. It would be of use, and I would recompense it by letting it have its fill of this other monster. It would never indulge in the unparalleled blood of Bella Swan, but the other monster would be reward enough for tonight.
I was already recalling the thousand and one tortures I had inflicted in the past on inhuman humans like him. I savored in advance his tormented cries. I rejoiced at the prospect of seeing his extended agony. For he would die slowly. Very slowly. His death would be very long. He would beg me to end him quickly, but I wouldn't give him this favor. Just for having thought of Bella Swan as his plaything, he would perish in the most horrible way.
I focused once more through his perverted eyes, which were following Bella's slender silhouette. When he saw her white cane, he exulted.
"So easy!"
Had I not myself once had the same thought? The monster in me had reacted the same way the day we first met. It, too, was in ecstasy that Bella Swan was blind and thus easier to trap. For a second, my need to kill was swept away by bitterness and nausea. The man Lonnie and I had targeted the same victim. Couldn't I say that I didn't mean it, that I hadn't chosen to be a monster, that it was against my will? Probably yes, but that wouldn't keep me from loathing him until the end of time. What a contradiction I was: the Edward who want to save her at any cost, and the monster who wanted above all to kill her.
The second passed and rage descended upon me again. I was entering the city just as Lonnie was intercepting Bella. She turned in the gang's direction. I read relief on her face at first: she was lost and thought she had finally found someone who could direct her. The relief quickly gave way to doubt when she heard the voices of the men surrounding her.
"Hey, beautiful."
"You alone?"
"You lost?"
"Wanna come have some fun with us?"
Her doubt was replaced then by fear. I cursed the heavy traffic that prevented me from going as fast as I wanted. I cursed just as much this busy town that had too many pedestrians for me to abandon my Volvo and run. To remain unmoving in a car would be unendurable even if I were able to push it to its maximum speed. If I could use my two legs I would have the satisfaction of doing something concrete. This immobility was killing me.
I saw six perspectives through six pairs of eyes, and they all showed me a Bella who was tense, rotating her cane in her hands as if she wanted to use it in defense.
"Leave me alone."
Her voice didn't betray her fear. It was firm and determined.
"C'mon sweetheart, don't be like that."
The man Lonnie approached her and had the audacity to take a lock of her hair and roll it around his fingers. Bella recoiled instinctively, but stepped into one of the other thugs, who grabbed her arm with a guttural laugh.
"Let me go!"
I roared. I had to release the steering wheel to avoid tearing it apart. My fist smashed into the driver's side window, breaking it into pieces that fell onto the asphalt like a crystal rain. Taking my rage out on the window was only a brief relief, just enough to allow me to continue driving without going insane.
I finally made it to the neighborhood where Bella was and rapidly found the street that Alice had seen in her vision while she was out hunting. I saw things then through my own eyes and not those of those abominable creatures. Bella was now cornered, trapped against a brick wall, and sent a well-aimed blow with her cane against one of her aggressors. But the man Lonnie was able to overpower her with one arm. His fingers tightened around her throat. Bella could make only a strangled noise in protest.
I leaped out of the Volvo and crossed the deserted streets in a second. They didn't see me coming. I was among them too quickly. From one blink of their eyes to the next, their group went from six to seven.
When they realized that I seemed to have materialized right in front of them, they halted their nasty games to stare at me, speechless. But they didn't have time to ask themselves questions. The one who had grabbed Bella's arm was the first to be sent unconscious against a streetlight. I needed to use only the tiniest part of my strength. What I wanted first was to get this girl away from these lowlifes and then I would take care of them. At the sight of their associate lying inert on the ground in under two seconds, they panicked and fled.
Let them run wherever they wanted. I would find them all one by one. But there was one I wouldn't let run. Before he could take two steps, I grasped Lonnie by his neck, lifted him and slammed him into the brick wall. I didn't use too much pressure. To break him would be too easy, too quick, and I would derive no pleasure from it. I would merely immobilize him at first. I held him up and let him see what a monster I was, showing him my razor-sharp teeth in a hungry, greedy grin. He saw that my eyes were two dark slits more terrifying than the eyes of the most dangerous of wild animals.
Lonnie had crossed from predator to prey, from murderer to victim. I felt his cockiness vanish. The blood drained from his face.
His fear only stoked my wrath.
I let myself go in my murderous fantasies, considering how I would begin. The fingers? Yes, the fingers, that would be good. I would break, one by one, the bones of his hands that had dared grip Bella's throat. Why not puncture his eyes as well? He would know what it was like to be plunged into darkness, to be disoriented and lost. And what if I bit him without killing him? I could stop myself from ending his life instantly if the monster in me knew that its reward would be all the more sweet later. I could let my victim suffer an entire day, let the venom incinerate his insides, but not long enough so that his transformation made him invulnerable. He could die, he could suffer, a thousand different ways.
My muscles were rigid with anticipation, tensed to their maximum. I sensed more than heard the man Lonnie moan, for my own grunts covered his pathetic voice.
I was there on the point of deciding how to execute my vengeance when a soft sound succeeded in penetrating the fog in my mind. A sound that I hadn't heard before because I was too deep in that fog to notice it. It was becoming more insistent even as it became gentler and calmer. Where did this calm sound come from? It resonated in me like a purest musical note in the bloodthirsty chaotic concert of my mind.
"Edward."
That sweet note was in reality a voice, a voice that soothed the discord inside me.
The fog dissipated. The concert of my vengeance fell silent and I gradually returned to my senses. First, the sense of taste: I tasted the acid in my mouth, my own venom, and I was sickened by it. Then sight: I saw the terrified monster in front of me, and saw my own face through his eyes, and the image disgusted me. Third, smell: I inhaled a familiar fragrance right next to me. A scent that the monster in me would have adored, but at this instant, it was my salvation. I perceived her warmth, her intoxicating perfume, and I used it to overpower the odor of the other monster.
The return of my hearing let me perceive something other than the chorus of vengeance in my head. I heard two heartbeats: one racing, the other calm and regular. I matched my breathing to the rhythm of the second heartbeat, focused on its soothing pulse. Finally, there was touch: I felt a feather land on my outstretched arm, which was still crushing my victim into the brick wall. The feather was in fact a pale hand. Delicate fingers brushed my jacket, and even through the leather, I felt their satin gentleness and the soft pressure on my coiled muscles.
"Edward."
I slowly turned toward that sound, then found the origin of the melodious note that sang my name.
My moon. Right next to me.
"Edward, you don't want to do this," she said serenely, but with authority.
My arm trembled while I lost myself in her gaze: two fathomless wells, empty of life but full of solicitude.
"Let him loose. Let's get out of here, okay? You don't want to do this. I know you don't. You will regret it."
The feather on my arm became more insistent, and I suddenly released the throat of my victim, who slumped to the ground with a strangled groan.
Bella put her hands around my arm and pulled so that I would follow her. I let myself be led away, as obedient as a puppet.
I had emerged completely from my murderous trance. But the rage was still there, the desire to kill still urgent. You will regret it. Yes, I would. Lonnie didn't deserve to live, but I would regret my action. Because that would mean that I wasn't any better than he was. Who was I to decide who should live or die? Long ago, I had played vigilante, I took myself for an avenging god, but eventually my deeds had repulsed me.
As we walked down the dark street, Bella spoke again: "Um, I don't know where to go, Edward. I thought I heard a car. Are you parked nearby?"
My car.
I found my Volvo, still running and parked sideways on the street.
"This way. " My voice was only a hoarse growl.
We had to get out of here as quickly as possible, because I could still hear the disordered thoughts of that other monster. I had to get far away.
Like an automaton, I guided Bella to the passenger door and then sat behind the steering wheel. She had barely retracted her cane and sat down before I sped away. I drove randomly before parking outside a supermarket.
"Are you okay?"
She was asking me how I was? She had nearly been - And she was asking me if I was all right?
I looked at her, calm and perfectly composed. Too calm. The calm before the storm. She was going to collapse. Bella knew very well what fate she had just escaped. She couldn't help having a reaction to that.
"No," I answered bitterly. "Distract me, please. Just talk about something unimportant until I calm down. If not, I'm going to turn back and –"
I didn't finish my thought; it would be too tempting to act on it. I stared into the darkness in front of me, my hands clenched on the steering wheel.
"My father just got a prototype of a new stun gun," she said after a few seconds.
I had told her to talk about anything, but I was wondering where she was going with this.
"Since he's a police chief, he gets sent all sorts of high-tech gadgets to test. And Monday, I'm going to use it on Tyler Crowley."
What, she was going to use a weapon?
"It doesn't kill, but it packs a big shock. Perhaps he'll let me alone after that," she continued.
I started to understand. To try to make up for nearly killing her, Tyler had decided to help her in the school science contest. But all he did was make mistake after mistake, sabotaging her project despite his good intentions.
I remembered the plans for the science contest that I had seen through the eyes of Angela, her partner. Tyler was wrecking everything Bella and Angela had done, and I couldn't help laughing. Bella had repeatedly insisted that she could manage by herself, but Tyler wouldn't pay attention. He must be truly annoying if the peaceful, patient Bella was willing to go to such lengths to get him out of the way.
Ah, this was working. I was calming down.
Hearing my unsteady laugh, Bella reiterated her first question: "Better?"
I sighed. "Not really. Are you planning to tell me what you were doing in a place like this all alone?"
I immediately regretted my brusque tone, but the words had spilled out of my mouth.
"I was with Angela, but we split up. I wanted to go to the bookstore to find a book on tape, but Angela needed shoes for her dress. We agreed to meet in an hour in a restaurant that just opened up here."
"She left you all alone in the middle of town?"
Her reply was laconic. Bella hated it when someone doubted her ability to manage by herself.
"I can do this. I already went to the bookstore – I know the neighborhood pretty well … at least, I thought I knew it," she added sheepishly.
I noticed that her hands were fidgeting with a little rectangular object.
"You have a cell phone and you didn't think to call her when you realized that you were lost?"
"I wanted to try to find my way back myself," she said. "Besides, I was just about to call her when … you know. But I think the battery's dead."
I handed her my own cell. "Use this to reassure her."
She examined the buttons with her fingertips; my phone was more complicated than her own. I turned it on, and hearing it whirr, Bella asked me what I planned to do.
"I'm taking you to dinner at that restaurant."
I didn't know if my proposal suited Bella, because she had managed to punch in a number and I could hear ringing. Angela answered immediately.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Angie."
"Bella! Where are you calling from? My screen doesn't recognize the number… I was really worried about you! What happened?"
"I got lost."
Bella added nothing else. I was only barely surprised that she didn't mention her experience.
"Try to ask someone where you are and I'll come get you."
"I don't need to. I ran into Edward and he'll take me. We're heading to the restaurant. I'm calling from his cell."
"Edward? Edward Cullen?"
"Yes. Save us a seat, we're on our way."
"Um, I was really hungry and –"
"Oh, it doesn't matter if you've already eaten. He'll drop me at the restaurant and we can go straight back to Forks from there. Hey!"
I had snatched the phone away, not pleased by her plans.
She had to eat. An empty stomach and an assault didn't go well together. And I didn't want to hand her over to Angela. I didn't want to leave her. I couldn't leave her. If I was alone, my violent instincts would have the upper hand on me. Staying with Bella would prevent me from acting unwisely.
"Good evening, Angela," I said into the phone.
"Uh, hi?"
"Would it bother you if I took Bella somewhere for dinner? I'll drive her home afterward. That way you won't have to wait while she eats."
"Uh … okay."
"Good. Bye, Angela."
I ended the call and saw from Bella's sulky expression that she was displeased that I had taken over.
"I don't want to make you waste your time."
"The events of this evening must have made you hungry."
"I'm not."
"I insist."
In silence, we headed toward the restaurant Bella indicated. After a few moments, she rubbed her arms. She was cold. Cold from fear. The first sign of shock.
"Why do you have the window open in the middle of March?" she asked, her voice shaking.
My window! What an idiot I was. I thought Bella was exhibiting the symptoms of shock, but she was reacting merely to the cold wind coming in. I hadn't noticed the frigid air, and I had been so preoccupied by what had nearly happened that I had forgotten the window.
"Sorry, the window is broken."
There was no point in adding that I had broken it. I whipped off my jacket and gave it to her.
"Put this on."
She did so, looking puzzled. Was she wondering how I had taken it off so quickly while driving?
My jacket was as icy as the wind blowing into the car and I hoped that her own body temperature would heat it up for her. Fortunately, we were close to the restaurant and she could warm up inside.
I guided her resolutely to a quiet table and she sat down, but not without saying a dozen times that she wasn't hungry.
Was that an excuse to get away from me? Would she have preferred to have left with Angela? After hearing me terrorize a gang of thugs, had she finally realized that I was more dangerous than she believed and that it was better to stay away from me?
Her hands were trembling and her heart was beating wildly. Was this the reaction to the attack I had expected, or did I make her nervous? Was this the fear, the repugnance that I had so worried would finally appear?
I was losing hope. My shoulders slumped in defeat. I should perhaps call Angela so she would come back to get Bella. She couldn't have got too far from Port Angeles. If Bella wanted so much to leave, to escape me, I couldn't reproach her for it. I alone was the reason.
I was berating myself in silence when Bella murmured, "Please, could you - would you just describe the restaurant to me?"
I blinked, taken aback by her odd request.
"Describe the restaurant?"
"I … I really like to be able to make a mental image of the new places I go. I don't feel comfortable if I can't picture the area around me in my head."
So that was why she was nervous? She had just been attacked, she had been witness to my murderous impulse and the only thing making her nervous was not knowing the size of the restaurant?
I shook my head, surprised and at the same time relieved to not be the source of her anxiety. I laid out for her with an architect's precision the dimensions of the room, the number of tables and the location of the kitchen and the restrooms, and described the other diners.
Once her curiosity was satisfied, she seemed much more relaxed. As relaxed as she was in that alley when she had stopped me.
I started to find the whole situation strange. On the scene I had been too enraged to realize it, but now that I was more or less calm, I suddenly wondered how she had recognized me. I hadn't said a word when I was crushing Lonnie against the wall, so how did she know who was saving her? I had certainly snarled, growled, snapped my teeth, but that certainly wasn't enough to identify me.
"How did you know it was me?" I asked abruptly.
She shrugged.
"An intuition. I told myself there was only one person able to make a whole gang of criminals scatter."
And this person could only be me, apparently. That made it all the more fortunate that Bella wasn't the type to talk. Otherwise, tomorrow the whole world would know about the mysteriously heroic Cullen who overpowered six thugs.
I reconsidered those thugs. Before Bella intervened, it was clear that they wouldn't survive their encounter with me. I couldn't have cared less about showing them my true nature, because once my vengeance was complete, there would be no witnesses. But now that I was relatively reasonable, the situation had changed. Perhaps I had endangered our secret. Would they talk about what had happened? Or would pride keep them silent? People don't brag about being scared off by a single teenager. Besides, they were all drunk. Tomorrow, they probably wouldn't remember a thing.
That reassured me, but I was going to have to scan the collective minds of Port Angeles in the coming days.
"What about you? How did you know where I was?" she asked in turn.
I should have expected such a question. I gave myself a half-second to reflect. I hated to lie, but did I have a choice? If I said that my vampire sister had had a vision while she was in hot pursuit of the blood of large mammals, how would Bella react? She had taken the fact that I was dangerous rather well, but my sister's talent, that was even more abnormal. Nor did I want Alice mixed up in all this. I shouldn't involve my family in this. At least not yet.
"I didn't know. I was in the area by chance."
She snorted derisively, which clearly indicated that I should have found a better lie.
"Of course. What a coincidence, huh?" she said sarcastically. "A lucky chance."
I pursed my lips.
I didn't want to linger on this topic. I focused once more on her too serene face and tried to see evidence some sort of trauma.
"You don't feel nauseated, dizzy …"
"Nope. Why?"
"I'm waiting for you to go into shock."
"I'm fine."
"A sensible person would be traumatized."
"I guess I'm not sensible, then. I feel fine, I assure you "
"If you knew the horrible things they were thinking, you wouldn't be so calm."
A corner of her mouth curved up, mischievous.
"And you do know?"
I rebuked myself once more for my mistake. I said too much when I was with her. I forgot too often that she knew only the tip of the iceberg of what I was and that I shouldn't reveal too much if I didn't want to frighten her off.
"It's not difficult to guess," I retorted, acting as if it were obvious.
"I'm nonetheless going to add that to my confidential list for coming up with theories," she said before nonchalantly raising her water glass to her lips.
A list? She had made a list?
What had I inadvertently said to give her enough information to draw up a list?
I didn't have an opportunity to ask because the waitress came to ask if we were ready to order.
"I'm not hungry," Bella repeated.
I insisted on reading her the menu. I didn't know most of the dishes listed. Human cuisine was a completely unknown – and useless – realm of knowledge for me.
"I'll feel better when you have eaten a bit. Choose or I'll do it for you."
My obstinate tone persuaded her and Bella reluctantly ordered something at random.
The waitress wrote it down and turned to me.
"And you, young man? Beautiful man, rather. Lord, I've never seen such an Adonis."
So it was that she was remarking on my beauty, even though a half-hour earlier she would have seen my face deformed by hatred and anger into a horrifying predator's mask. Being with Bella not only calmed me, it made me more human. The killer had slipped away, leaving only the eternally compelling features my vampire anatomy had given me.
"Nothing for me, thank you," I answered with a polite smile.
The waitress left, disappointed that our exchange had ended so quickly. When I turned my attention again to my neighbor, I saw that her mischievous expression was back.
"What?" I said, suspicious.
"I'll also add that to my list. You never eat."
"Of course I do," I lied.
"I don't have eyes, but I have ears. This week I never heard you unwrap a sandwich, bite, chew, crunch or munch anything."
"I'm on a special diet."
She snorted again in disbelief. Why did I persist in denying it even when I knew very well how astute Bella was? Probably a reflex.
Bella's meal came and the waitress lingered, finding excuses – is it hot enough? Do you need pepper? Parmesan? More water? – to surreptitiously admire me.
Bella ate, albeit without much enthusiasm. I didn't question her – I wasn't going to make her speak until her stomach was full. She was much too thin in my opinion. She was so frail, so fragile. Silken skin over bones of glass. It wasn't surprising that Lonnie found her alluring; the most tempting victims were also the most vulnerable.
"That's twice now," she said after a moment. I waited for her to be more precise. "That you saved my life."
Wrong. It was three times, counting the day we met. But she didn't need to know that.
"Let's not try for three, agreed?"
She put her fork on her empty plate and turned her head in my direction. Her empty gaze was sudden very intense, disconcerting.
"Thank you. For everything."
I savored her words, which strangely comforted me. I became aware that I owed her a lot too. I wondered which of us had saved the other one. If Bella hadn't intervened, there would be six deaths on my conscience. She had saved me from myself … even though she would have had been justified in letting them die. No one would have blamed her if she decided not to try to spare those six lives, considering what they planned to do to her.
But Bella was much more magnanimous than I. Vengeance resolved nothing. She knew that, and I tried to emulate her pacifism and convince myself once and for all that I was right to leave the monster in me unsatisfied. Without much success, sadly. I wasn't naturally forgiving. I was not as good of a person as my moon …
"Thank you for … for stopping me before it was too late," I said. "Sometimes I have a problem with my temper …"
I stopped short. My anger was resurfacing. It was better not to think of them or my urge to kill would rush back.
She smiled, sensing that I had tensed up again.
"I can tell you other inane things to distract you if you want. Do you know that Charlie's stun gun can give a shock of 30,000 volts?"
I laughed. Only Bella knew how to defuse my anger. I decided to play along.
"You should keep it with you in case your buddies come back for a visit."
"No need if you're always around by chance to save me."
Again, a complicit smile.
I neither confirmed or denied her words. I let her interpret my silence as she thought best. She would probably come to the right conclusion.
I didn't want to leave, but there was no reason to stay since Bella had finished. I asked for the check, and when Bella reached for my jacket, which was hanging on the back of her chair, her movement uncovered part of her arm that had been hidden by her blouse.
I couldn't help my epithet at the sight of the mark on her skin.
"What is it?" she asked.
"You're not hurt?"
"Where?"
"Your arm."
"Oh." She hastily drew on my jacket to cover the contusion. "It feels a little tender, that's all." She affected an indifferent expression to play down the gravity of her injury.
"You're going to have an enormous bruise," I said.
"Eh, it could have been worse."
True. And just thinking that unnerved me.
"How are you going to explain that to Charlie?" I asked, hoping that my voice didn't betray my rage.
"I'll tell him that I bumped into a table or something like that. He's used to it; I'm always running into things when I'm in a new place. When I was younger, my mother called me Smurf because I was always bruised."
She snickered to show how unimportant it was, but I wasn't in the mood to laugh. How many years did it take her to learn to anticipate obstacles? How many injuries had she endured as she sought to be autonomous? What price did she pay in bumps and bruises for her independence?
We walked silently to the Volvo, I brooding, she always so … relaxed.
Once we were at the car, I contemplated it while Bella slid into her seat, without knowing that I was hesitating. I realized that this time I would spend more than just a few minutes inside a car with Bella Swan. Driving her to Seattle would be real test of my self-control. This trip back to Forks would be a good practice run. Before arriving at the restaurant, the monster in me was too focused on Lonnie to wallow in its proximity to its preferred victim. But now Lonnie wouldn't distract me. I would be fully conscious of Bella right next to me. Being two inches away from her would not be easy, even for 20 minutes.
But I felt capable of doing it. I just wouldn't breathe. In any case, the wind coming through my window would carry all sorts of scents that would dilute Bella's.
I sat behind the wheel and started off. The monster in me was muzzled, but I was nonetheless completely aware that I was very close to her. I had feared the monster, but it was the man in me who was reacting to her presence.
I could almost graze her shoulder; I could see in my peripheral vision her delicate profile. If I had had a heart, it would have been hammering. I longed to touch her mistreated arm, as if my caress could erase her bruise. But with my strength, what I considered a soft caress would probably only aggravate her injury.
"It's at times like this that I'm grateful to be blind," I heard her say after a few minutes.
"Why?"
"I don't feel the car run – it feels as if it's flying like a rocket."
A hundred miles an hour was my usual cruising speed, but since it wasn't normal by human standard, I decided not to mention it.
"I'm happy not to see the countryside pass by at this speed. I'm sure I'd get sick. Do you always drive this fast?"
"I like speed."
"So I've noticed," she said, laughing.
I still couldn't understand how Bella could laugh and joke after what she had just experienced. It wasn't normal. Was it my fault? Was I somehow preventing her from letting her emotions out?
"Bella, do I inhibit you?"
She seemed confused by my question.
"You don't have to be embarrassed or intimidated, you know," I went on. "Earlier, we were in a busy restaurant, and I can understand that it could be uncomfortable to break down in public, but now you can fall apart, to be afraid, to scream if you want."
Bella sighed, exasperated, and I was glad that the wind blew away her exhalation.
"I don't need to go into hysterics."
"That would be rather … healthy."
"I assure for the hundredth time that I'm okay."
"But –"
"Edward," she interrupted me. "Pull over."
"What?"
"Park on the shoulder."
I complied, uneasy. Had I driven so quickly that she was indeed sick? Or did she feel that she was going to have the nervous breakdown I kept warning her about?
Once the Volvo was stopped, I turned to her, ready for anything.
"Look at me," she ordered.
That's all I ever did!
"My words don't seem to work, so look at me closely, Edward. What you see is the face of a Bella who feels very secure. Note it well, because that's how it will always be when I'm near you. I simply do not feel traumatized, upset or frightened when I'm by your side. It's as if I'm surrounded by bulletproof glass that repels all those emotions."
I was speechless. I didn't know how to respond to that. And she didn't expect me to.
I went back on the road in a euphoric silence.
Bella Swan felt safe with me.
It was absurd.
It was unheard of.
It was … touching.
Part of me was suddenly thrilled to have inspired so much confidence in Bella, while another part was horrified that she felt secure with the monster who wanted her dead.
The lamb felt safe with the lion.
All things considered, if she wasn't in a state of shock after this attack, perhaps her blindness had something to do with it. After all, she hadn't seen the thugs' leers, so she couldn't have realized what they wanted to do. Same for me: She hadn't seen my killer's face that first time we met or my predatory look when I came to rescue her.
I would have to be prudent for her.
I swore to myself that Bella would never know the entire truth about me. She could trust me to a certain extent, I was certain. After that, her trust would be transformed into terror.
"Here we are," I soon announced, parking across from her front door.
Her father's uneasiness emanated from the house. The television was on - a baseball game. Charlie was watching with only half his attention. He was thinking about his daughter. He was happy that she had decided to socialize a little, but he impatiently awaited her return. He couldn't help but worry.
And he was right to do so: Bella had been attacked and now a vampire was her taxi driver.
"Oh, you know where I live," Bella said, distracting me from Charlie's thoughts.
Dammit. I hadn't even thought of pretending not to know her address. Yet another slip.
"You live in Forks, Bella. Everyone knows where everyone lives, especially the police chief's daughter."
I was rather proud of my lie, but her half-smile told me that she wasn't fooled.
"Of course. If you don't mind, I'm still going to add to my list for theorizing."
Again that cursed list?
"Ah, you're scowling," she lamented.
Had I spoken aloud without realizing it? Definitely, nothing escaped her.
"Every time I try to find out something about you, you have the same reactions."
"You close down just as much as me when I try to find out more about you."
She thought about that. Bella was apparently in no hurry to get out of the car. Nor was I eager to see her go. Every second I could spend near her was a benediction.
"What if we both give in a little, tonight?" she declared suddenly.
I didn't like the sound of this, and I waited for the rest with apprehension.
"Let's make a deal. I ask you a personal question, just one, and you answer without evasion. And then you do the same for me."
No, I didn't like this at all. Even the most personal and embarrassing question I could ask her wouldn't be as compromising as the question Bella would want to ask me.
But I wasn't a coward.
"Okay."
Her expression became ecstatic.
"I'll begin."
I grumbled while she rubbed her hands together in glee.
"Hmm." She tapped her chin, thinking, and I damned her mental wall yet again for blocking me from seeing what was going on in that too-perspicacious head of hers.
"I've got one."
"Go ahead."
Despite myself, I stiffened and clenched my teeth, my anxiety reaching a peak.
"Do you miss your old life?"
I blinked several times, not sure what she really meant by my "old life." Had she discovered everything? Did she know that I was no longer human? Did she think of my old life as a state, a condition that I no longer had since I was now a vampire?
"My old life," I repeated warily.
"Yeah, your life with your biological parents."
Oh, she was talking about that old life. The one we had invented to explain my adoption to humans. Although … there was some truth to that story: I had indeed been adopted by Carlisle after the death of my parents.
Of all the questions that she could have asked me – why I knew her address, why I never ate, why I was dangerous, why I was in Port Angeles tonight – Bella had asked the last I would have expected.
"I remember almost nothing of them," I said. But I missed my old life all the same: I missed my mortality, my innocence… "Carlisle and Esme have made it so that I don't miss them."
Bella heard the tenderness in my voice.
"You love them very much."
I could permit myself to be honest about that.
"They are terrific."
"Hmm, it's not that -" Once again she was thinking.
"Not that what?"
"From the first day, I noticed in your voice something -" she was thinking still, as if she was searching for the right word – "something melancholy. It's always in the background. Whether you laugh – which is rather rare –or you're angry – which is more frequent," she said with a teasing expression, "that touch of melancholy is there, and I told myself that the loss of your parents had affected you … But apparently, it's not that. I wouldn't say that you are unmoved by their deaths, but this constantly sad note in your voice is caused by something else."
Melancholy … of course I was. I cursed my state, I saw the world change around me while I was frozen in time and I desperately loved someone I could never have … But I thought I was a good actor. I was sure that besides my family (and even with them I forced myself to hide from them my permanent sadness), nobody had ever seen me so clearly.
I was stupefied. Bella never ceased to amaze me. She had an extremely developed capacity for auditory analysis, and she had deciphered a part of me that no one had before. I felt uneasy at being thus … exposed. An uneasiness that was strangely mixed with contentment. There was something right about my melancholy being understood by the most important element of my existence. At this moment, I felt closer to her than I ever had - and that I ever would.
Bella pulled me out of my stupor. "I'm going to find out what it is," she said impishly.
Oh, no, she wouldn't. I refused. Understanding me meant knowing what I really was, and I couldn't allow that.
I didn't want her to linger on this subject. "Your turn," I said, and I snickered diabolically.
Bella bit her bottom lip, obviously reluctant. "I feel as if I'm heading to the gallows."
I found the situation hilarious: of all the things Bella could fear from me, it was being questioned that worried her.
I thought a few moments, and chose a question stemming from one of the many mysteries about Bella Swan.
"I have it: Why did you say Debussy had saved you?"
Her eyes widened.
"And no evasion," I reminded her.
Bella twisted her hands together nervously. She didn't answer immediately, and I saw that she wasn't sure how to formulate her response. It made me only the more curious.
"Well…" she began, uncertain.
She inhaled, as if to steel herself. My curiosity was soon replaced by perplexity. I hadn't thought I had asked such a troubling question. What was it that required so much courage?
"I didn't always take things well," she started again with new resolve. "I accept what I am today, but in the beginning I had difficulty …"
She hesitated.
"When my sight weakened and I finally understood that it was permanent, I took it …very badly. I fell into a sort of … depression that led me to do something completely stupid."
She twisted her hands even more, and it was only at that instant that I realized that it wasn't her hands that she was rubbing together, but the inside of her wrists. I observed for the first time, with horror, old scars there. Bella was chafing them unconsciously, as if she could make them disappear.
I had promised myself to always protect her, and I was ready to destroy anyone who wished her harm. Now I had just discovered that Bella had wanted to harm herself.
I couldn't understand it. And I was outraged.
She had lost her sight, but she still at least had her soul! Why would she want to end her life over that? It was such a small thing compared to the loss of her humanity. I didn't understand this urge to end it, this depression … How could someone willingly give up such a precious gift as life, an innocent life, a life with a soul?
I imagined for a horrible second a scenario in which Bella had succeeded. Certainly, I would never have experienced her crippling fragrance, but I would also have never known the state of beatitude, of sweet enchantment, of serenity that she had brought me. I would have continued to merely exist, believing myself an island entire of myself even as I was unconsciously seeking my moon to light my eternal night. A light that I would have never seen because it was already snuffed out …
Bella continued, unaware of my fury.
"Fortunately, I was stopped in time. After this idiocy, I was sent to a rehabilitation center for the handicapped, and it was there that I heard Debussy for the first time. I finally understood that there were other ways to see. The moment I realized that, I got a hold of myself. And that's why I say that he saved me."
For a long moment, there was silence.
"Um, I shouldn't have suggested this exchange of questions," she finally declared. "It was a bad idea. Sorry."
I got myself under control. I was still furious, but pleased to have learned something about my moon.
"It wasn't all that bad."
All that I hoped was that never, never again, would she have such a horrible impulse.
I contemplated her again: the same delicate face, pale and serene… No, I had nothing to fear. Bella had changed. She knew she had made a serious mistake. Debussy had truly opened her eyes – in all senses of the term. And I was grateful once more to that composer.
She took off my jacket and handed it to me. I took it, but didn't put it back on. Her scent had impregnated it, and now was not the moment to surround myself with her fragrance while she was so close to me. The monster in me would seek out the source of this aroma, I knew. Later, I would allow myself to breathe in her scent. I would use it as an exercise in control.
Her searching fingers found the door handle.
"See you on Monday. Thanks for everything."
"Wait," I interrupted her. "What are you going to say to your father?"
"That I had a great time with Angela."
"You're really not going to tell him anything about those … those guys?"
"No point in rousing the troops. The worst was avoided, that's what matters."
A shame, that. Knowing her father's protective attitude, I was certain that he would use every means at his disposal to track down her attackers and put them away for a long time.
Bella would have probably told him if she had understood the true extent of their vileness. She didn't know they were killers.
I had counted on her father to take care of the thugs, but I was going to have to come up with another idea. Not the bloody vengeance I would have wanted, but I wasn't going to let these animals go free, lying in wait for another Bella.
I returned my attention to my neighbor. I wanted her to think about some things. She wanted to minimize the seriousness of the attack? Fine. But she shouldn't minimize me.
"Do you even know how far I was ready to go if you hadn't stopped me?"
"I suspect that they wouldn't have enjoyed the experience."
"More than that, Bella. I would have annihilated them. I wanted them dead. And not just literally — I truly wanted them destroyed."
I emphasized those last words so that she would understand the depth of my murderous instincts.
Bella tilted her head to the side, her eyes narrowed. "Are you trying again to put me on guard against you?"
Without waiting for my answer, she continued, "It doesn't matter, because it's too late."
"Too late?"
She smiled shyly, then shrugged. She pulled open the door and left, leaving my question unanswered.
"Good night, Edward. See you Monday."
"Monday," I repeated, taken by surprise.
The door closed and Bella walked into her house.
"Or rather, soon," I murmured, looking up at her window.
As always, thanks for reading and reviewing! And remember, a link to Elysabeth's story is on my profile page if you want to try it in French.