"Can I ask just one more?" I pleaded as Elisabeth accelerated much too quickly down the quiet street. She didn't seem to be paying any attention to the road.

She sighed.

"One," she agreed. Her lips pressed together into a cautious line.

"Well... you said you knew I hadn't gone into the bookstore, and that I had gone south. I was just wondering how you knew that."

She looked away, deliberating.

"I thought we were past all the evasiveness," I grumbled.

She almost smiled.

"Fine, then. I followed your scent." She looked at the road, giving me time to compose my face. I couldn't think of an acceptable response to that, but I filed it carefully away for future study. I tried to refocus. I wasn't ready to let her be finished, now that she was finally explaining things.

"And then you didn't answer one of my first questions..." I stalled.

She looked at me with disapproval. "Which one?"

"How does it work - the mind-reading thing? Can you read anybody's mind, anywhere? How do you do it? Can the rest of your family... ?" I felt silly, asking for clarification on make-believe.

"That's more than one," she pointed out. I simply intertwined my fingers and gazed at her, waiting.

"No, it's just me. And I can't hear anyone, anywhere. I have to be fairly close. The more familiar someone's... 'voice' is, the farther away I can hear them. But still, no more than a few miles." She paused thoughtfully. "It's a little like being in a huge hall filled with people, everyone talking at once. It's just a hum - a buzzing of voices in the background. Until I focus on one voice, and then what they're thinking is clear.

"Most of the time I tune it all out - it can be very distracting. And then it's easier to seem normal" - she frowned as she said the word - "when I'm not accidentally answering someone's thoughts rather than their words."

"Why do you think you can't hear me?" I asked curiously.

She looked at me, her eyes enigmatic.

"I don't know," she murmured. "The only guess I have is that maybe your mind doesn't work the same way the rest of theirs do. Like your thoughts are on the AM frequency and I'm only getting FM." She grinned at me, suddenly amused.

"My mind doesn't work right? I'm a freak?" The words bothered me more than they should - probably because her speculation hit home. I'd always suspected as much, and it embarrassed me to have it confirmed.

"I hear voices in my mind and you're worried that you're the freak," she laughed. "Don't worry, it's just a theory..." Her face tightened. (fr)

"Which brings us back to you."

I sighed. How to begin?

"Aren't we passed all the evasions now?" she reminded me softly.

I looked away from her face for the first time, trying to find words. I happened to notice the speedometer.

"Oh my God!" I shouted. "Slow down!"

"What's wrong?" She was startled. But the car didn't decelerate.

"You're going a hundred miles an hour!" I was still shouting. I shot a panicky glance out the window, but it was too dark to see much. The road was only visible in the long patch of bluish brightness from the headlights. The forest along both sides of the road was like a black wall - as hard as a wall of steel if we veered off the road at this speed.

"Relax, Bella." She rolled her eyes, still not slowing.

"Are you trying to kill us?" I demanded.

"We're not going to crash."

I tried to modulate my voice. "Why are you in such a hurry?"

"I always drive like this." She turned to smile crookedly at me.

"Keep your eyes on the road!"

"I've never been in an accident, Bella - I've never even gotten a ticket." She grinned and tapped her forehead. "Built-in radar detector."

"Very funny." I fumed. "Charlie's a cop, remember? I was raised to abide by traffic laws. Besides, if you turn us into a Volvo pretzel around a tree trunk, you can probably just walk away." (Bella really pulled the "My dads a cop")

"Probably," she agreed with a short, hard laugh. "But you can't." She sighed, and I watched with relief as the needle gradually drifted toward eighty. "Happy?"

"Almost."

"I hate driving slow," she muttered.

"This is slow?"

"Enough commentary on my driving," she snapped. "I'm still waiting for your latest theory."

I bit my lip. She looked down at me, her honey eyes unexpectedly gentle.

"I won't laugh," she promised.

"I'm more afraid that you'll be angry with me."

"Is it that bad?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

She waited. I was looking down at my hands, so I couldn't see her expression.

"Go ahead." Her voice was calm.

"I don't know how to start," I admitted.

"Why don't you start at the beginning... you said you didn't come up with this on your own."

"No."

"What got you started - a book? A movie?" she probed.

"No - it was Saturday, at the beach." I risked a glance up at her face. Her looked puzzled.

"I ran into an old family friend -Jolie Black," I continued. "Her dad and Charlie have been friends since I was a baby."

She still looked confused.

"Her dad is one of the Quileute elders." I watched her carefully. Her confused expression froze in place. "We went for a walk -" I edited all my scheming out of the story "- and she was telling me some old legends - trying to scare me, I think. She told me one..." I hesitated.

"Go on," she said.

"About vampires." I realized I was whispering. I couldn't look at her face now. But I saw her knuckles tighten convulsively on the wheel.

"And you immediately thought of me?" Still calm.

"No. Jolie... mentioned your family."

She was silent, staring at the road.

I was worried suddenly, worried about protecting Jolie.

"She just thought it was a silly superstition," I said quickly. "She didn't expect me to think anything of it." It didn't seem like enough; I had to confess. "It was my fault, I forced her to tell me."

"Why?"

"Lauren said something about you - she was trying to make me mad. And an older boy from the tribe said your family didn't come to the reservation, only it sounded like he meant something different. So I got Jolie alone and I tricked it out of her," I admitted, hanging my head.

She startled me by laughing. I glared up at her. She was laughing, but her eyes were fierce, staring ahead.

"Tricked her how?" she asked.

"I tried to flirt - it worked better than I thought it would. I was hoping she was gay." Disbelief colored my tone as I remembered.

"I'd like to have seen that." she chuckled darkly. "And you accused me of dazzling people - poor Jolie Black."

I blushed and looked out my window into the night.

"What did you do then?" she asked after a minute.

"I did some research on the Internet."

"And did that convince you?" Her voice sounded barely interested. But her hands were clamped hard onto the steering wheel.

"No. Nothing fit. Most of it was kind of silly. And then..." I stopped.

"What?"

"I decided it didn't matter," I whispered.

"It didn't matter?" Her tone made me look up - I had finally broken through her carefully composed mask. Her face was incredulous, with just a hint of the anger I'd feared.

"No," I said softly. "It doesn't matter to me what you are."

A hard, mocking edge entered her voice. "You don't care if I'm a monster? If I'm not human!"

"No."

She was silent, staring straight ahead again. Her face was bleak and cold.

"You're angry," I sighed. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"No," she said, but her tone was as hard as her face. "I'd rather know what you're thinking - even if what you're thinking is insane."

"So I'm wrong again?" I challenged.

"That's not what I was referring to. 'It doesn't matter'!" she quoted, gritting her teeth together.

"I'm right?" I gasped.

"Does it matter?"

I took a deep breath.

"Not really." I paused. "But I am curious." My voice, at least, was composed.

She was suddenly resigned. "What are you curious about?"

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen," she answered promptly.

"And how long have you been seventeen?"

Her lips twitched as she stared at the road. "... A while," she admitted at last.

"Okay." I smiled, pleased that she was still being honest with me. She stared down at me with watchful eyes, much as she had before, when she was worried I would go into shock. I smiled wider in encouragement, and she frowned.

"Don't laugh - but how can you come out during the daytime?"

She laughed anyway. "Myth."

"Burned by the sun?"

"Myth."

"Sleeping in coffins?"

"Myth." She hesitated for a moment, and a peculiar tone entered her voice. "I can't sleep."

It took me a minute to absorb that. "At all?"

"Never," she said, voice nearly inaudible. She turned to look at me with a wistful expression. The golden eyes held mine, and I lost my train of thought. I stared at her until she looked away.

"You haven't asked me the most important question yet." Her voice was hard now, and when she looked at me again her eyes were cold.

I blinked, still dazed. "Which one is that?"

"You aren't concerned about my diet?" she asked sarcastically.

"Oh," I murmured, "that."

"Yes, that." Her voice was bleak. "Don't you want to know if I drink blood?"

I flinched. "Well, Jolie said something about that."

"What did Jolie say?" she asked flatly.

"She said you didn't... hunt people. She said your family wasn't supposed to be dangerous because you only hunted animals."

"She said we weren't dangerous?" Her voice was deeply skeptical.

"Not exactly. She said you weren't supposed to be dangerous. But the Quileute's still didn't want you on their land, just in case."

She looked forward, but I couldn't tell if she was watching the road or not.

"So was she right? About not hunting people?" I tried to keep my voice as even as possible.

"The Quileute's have a long memory," she whispered.

I took it as a confirmation.

"Don't let that make you complacent, though," she warned me. "They're right to keep their distance from us. We are still dangerous."

"I don't understand."

"We try," she explained slowly. "We're usually very good at what we do. Sometimes we make mistakes. Me, for example, allowing myself to be alone with you."

"This is a mistake?" I heard the sadness in my voice, but I didn't know if she could as well.

"A very dangerous one," she murmured.

We were both silent then. I watched the headlights twist with the curves of the road. They moved too fast; it didn't look real, it looked like a video game. I was aware of the time slipping away so quickly, like the black road beneath us, and I was hideously afraid that I would never have another chance to be with her like this again - openly, the walls between us gone for once. Her words hinted at an end, and I recoiled from the idea. I couldn't waste one minute I had with her.

"Tell me more," I asked desperately, not caring what she said, just so I could hear her voice again.

She looked at me quickly, startled by the change in my tone. "What more do you want to know?"

"Tell me why you hunt animals instead of people," I suggested, my voice still tinged with desperation. I realized my eyes were wet, and I fought against the grief that was trying to overpower me.

"I don't want to be a monster." Her voice was very low.

"But animals aren't enough?"

She paused. "I can't be sure, of course, but I'd compare it to living on tofu and soy milk; we call ourselves vegetarians, our little inside joke. It doesn't completely satiate the hunger - or rather thirst. But it keens us strong enough to resist. Most of the time." Her tone turned ominous.

"Sometimes it's more difficult than others."

"Is it very difficult for you now?" I asked.

She sighed. "Yes."

"But you're not hungry now," I said confidently - stating, not asking.

"Why do you think that?"

"Your eyes. I told you I had a theory. I've noticed that people - women in particular - are crabbier when they're hungry."

She chuckled. "You are observant, aren't you?" (This is the dumbest conversation)

I didn't answer; I just listened to the sound of her laugh, committing it to memory.

"Were you hunting this weekend, with Emmett?" I asked when it was quiet again.

"Yes." She paused for a second, as if deciding whether to say something. "I didn't want to leave, but it was necessary. It's a bit easier to be around you when I'm not thirsty."

"Why didn't you want to leave?"

"It makes me... anxious... to be away from you." Her eyes were gentle but intense, and they seemed to be making my bones turn soft. (Giving Bella osteomalacia by looking at her)

"I wasn't joking when I asked you to try not to fall in the ocean or get run over last Thursday. I was distracted all weekend, worrying about you. And after what happened tonight, I'm surprised that you did make it through a whole weekend unscathed."

She shook her head, and then seemed to remember something. "Well, not totally unscathed."

"What?"

"Your hands," she reminded me. I looked down at my palms, at the almost-healed scrapes across the heels of my hands. Her eyes missed nothing.

"I fell," I sighed.

"That's what I thought." Her lips curved up at the corners. "I suppose, being you, it could have been much worse - and that possibility tormented me the entire time I was away. It was a very long three days. I really got on Emmett's nerves." She smiled ruefully at me.

"Three days? Didn't you just get back today?"

"No, we got back Sunday."

"Then why weren't any of you in school?" I was frustrated, almost angry as I thought of how much disappointment I had suffered in her absence.

"Well, you asked if the sun hurt me, and it doesn't. But I can't go out in the sunlight - at least, not where anyone can see."

"Why?"

"I'll show you sometime," she promised.

I thought about it for a moment.

"You might have called me," I decided.

She was puzzled. "But I knew you were safe."

"But I didn't know where you were. I -" I hesitated, dropping my eyes.

"What?" Her velvety voice was compelling.

"I didn't like it. Not seeing you. It makes me anxious, too." I blushed to be saying this out loud.

She was quiet. I glanced up, apprehensive, and saw that her expression was pained.

"Ah," she groaned quietly. "This is wrong." (We're just now registering?)

I couldn't understand her response. "What did I say?"

"Don't you see, Bella? It's one thing for me to make myself miserable, but a wholly other thing for you to be so involved." She turned her anguished eyes to the road, her words flowing almost too fast for me to understand. "I don't want to hear that you feel that way." Her voice was low but urgent. Her words cut me. "It's wrong. It's not safe. I'm dangerous, Bella - please, grasp that."

"No." I tried very hard not to look like a sulky child.

"I'm serious," she growled.

"So am I. I told you, it doesn't matter what you are. It's too late."

Her voice whipped out, low and harsh. "Never say that."

I bit my lip and was glad she couldn't know how much that hurt. I stared out at the road. We must be close now. She was driving much too fast.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, her voice still raw. I just shook my head, not sure if I could speak. I could feel her gaze on my face, but I kept my eyes forward.

"Are you crying?" She sounded appalled. I hadn't realized the moisture in my eyes had brimmed over. I quickly rubbed my hand across my cheek, and sure enough, traitor tears were there, betraying me.

"No," I said, but my voice cracked.

I saw her reach toward me hesitantly with her right hand, but then she stopped and placed it slowly back on the steering wheel.

"I'm sorry." Her voice burned with regret. I knew she wasn't just apologizing for the words that had upset me.

The darkness slipped by us in silence.

"Tell me something," she asked after another minute, and I could hear her struggle to use a lighter tone.

"Yes?"

"What were you thinking tonight, just before I came around the corner? I couldn't understand your expression - you didn't look that scared, you looked like you were concentrating very hard on something."

"I was trying to remember how to incapacitate an attacker - you know, self-defense. I was going to smash his nose into his brain." I thought of the dark-haired man with a surge of hate.

"You were going to fight them?" This upset her. "Didn't you think about running?"

"I fall down a lot when I run," I admitted.

"What about screaming for help?"

"I was getting to that part."

She shook her head. "You were right - I'm definitely fighting fate trying to keep you alive."

I sighed. We were slowing, passing into the boundaries of Forks. It had taken less than twenty minutes.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" I demanded.

"Yes - I have a paper due, too." She smiled. "I'll save you a seat at lunch."

It was silly, after everything we'd been through tonight, how that little promise sent flutters through my stomach, and made me unable to speak.

We were in front of Charlie's house. The lights were on, my truck in its place, everything utterly normal. It was like waking from a dream. She stopped the car, but I didn't move.

"Do you promise to be there tomorrow?"

"I promise."

I considered that for a moment, then nodded. I pulled her jacket off, taking one last whiff.

"You can keep it - you don't have a jacket for tomorrow," she reminded me.

"Thanks." I smiled, gently draping it over my arm.

I hesitated, my hand on the door handle, trying to prolong the moment.

"Bella?" she asked in a different tone - serious, but hesitant.

"Yes?" I turned back to her too eagerly.

"Will you promise me something?"

"Yes," I said, and instantly regretted my unconditional agreement. What if she asked me to stay away from her? I couldn't keep that promise.

"Don't go into the woods alone."

I stared at her in blank confusion. "Why?"

She frowned, and her eyes were tight as she stared past me out the window.

"I'm not always the most dangerous thing out there. Let's leave it at that."

I shuddered slightly at the sudden bleakness in her voice, but I was relieved. This, at least, was an easy promise to honor. "Whatever you say."

"I'll see you tomorrow," she sighed, and I knew she wanted me to leave now.

"Tomorrow, then." I opened the door unwillingly.

"Bella?" I turned and she was leaning toward me, her pale, beautiful face just inches from mine. My heart stopped beating.

"Sleep well," she said. Her breath blew in my face, stunning me. It was the same exquisite scent that clung to her jacket, but in a more concentrated form. I blinked, thoroughly dazed. She leaned away.

I was unable to move until my brain had somewhat unscrambled itself. Then I stepped out of the car awkwardly, having to use the frame for support. I thought I heard her chuckle, but the sound was too quiet for me to be certain.

She waited till I had stumbled to the front door, and then I heard her engine quietly rev. I turned to watch the silver car disappear around the corner. I realized it was very cold.

I reached for the key mechanically, unlocked the door, and stepped inside.

Charlie called from the living room. "Bella?" (Because an intruder will respond)

"Yeah, Dad, it's me." I walked in to see him. He was watching a baseball game.

"You're home early."

"Am I?" I was surprised.

"It's not even eight yet," he told me. "Did you girls have fun?"

"Yeah - it was lots of fun." My head was spinning as I tried to remember all the way back to the girls' night out I had planned. "They both found dresses."

"Are you all right?"

"I'm just tired. I did a lot of walking."

"Well, maybe you should go lie down." He sounded concerned. I wondered what my face looked like.

"I'm just going to call Jessica first."

"Weren't you just with her?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes - but I left my jacket in her car. I want to make sure she brings it tomorrow."

"Whose jacket is that then?"

"Angela's." I lied. I could feel heat rising from my chest to my face.

"Oh. Well, give her a chance to get home first."

"Right," I agreed.

I went to the kitchen and fell, exhausted, into a chair. I was really feeling dizzy now. I wondered if I was going to go into shock after all. Get a grip, I told myself.

The phone rang suddenly, startling me. I yanked it off the hook.

"Hello?" I asked breathlessly.

"Bella?"

"Hey, Jess, I was just going to call you."

"You made it home?" Her voice was relieved... and surprised.

"Yes. I left my jacket in your car - could you bring it to me tomorrow?"

"Sure. But tell me what happened!" she demanded.

"Um, tomorrow - in Trig, okay?"

She caught on quickly. "Oh, is your dad there?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow, then. Bye!" I could hear the impatience in her voice.

"Bye, Jess."

I walked up the stairs slowly, a heavy stupor clouding my mind. I went through the motions of getting ready for bed without paying any attention to what I was doing. It wasn't until I was in the shower - the water too hot, burning my skin - that I realized I was freezing. I shuddered violently for several minutes before the steaming spray could finally relax my rigid muscles. Then I stood in the shower, too tired to move, until the hot water began to run out.

I stumbled out, wrapping myself securely in a towel, trying to hold the heat from the water in so the aching shivers wouldn't return. I dressed for bed swiftly and climbed under my quilt, curling into a ball, hugging myself to keep warm. A few small shudders trembled through me.

My mind still swirled dizzily, full of images I couldn't understand, and some I fought to repress. Nothing seemed clear at first, but as I fell gradually closer to unconsciousness, a few certainties became evident.

About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Elisabeth was a vampire. Second, there was part of her- and I didn't know how potent that part might be - that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with her. (Laaaaame)