Katinki graciously edited this story.

Chapter 21

Two days pass in anxious waiting. There's no word from Carlisle, and Edward has disappeared as well. I try to remind myself that his recital is just a week away. Still, that never kept him from seeing me before. Not to mention that to my human ears, he's more than ready for the recital, judging by the times he's played for me...

But of course, only he knows what level of perfection he's aiming for.

All I can do is hang around the house, occasionally peeking out the window. It happens to face the general direction of Edward's house—a pathetic detail not lost on my uncle, who catches on and gives me a sympathetic shoulder pat while passing me by.

My mind is in turmoil.

I can't stop thinking about the Volturi and the mortal danger I've been so casually dismissing all this time, just like I'd ignored the risks of wandering out into the streets of London alone. Is it because I'm simply not that bright or because I still can't fully grasp the reality of what's happening to me? Have I not truly accepted what Edward is? Maybe my brain is protecting itself by deciding, "Okay, it's all just one big computer game. None of it's real... Give me a break!"

Whatever the reason, I need to reassess my attitude, and fast.

Another source of my unease, possibly even more unsettling than the threat of being dispatched by the Vampire King and his crew, is the news that Rosalie Hale is also in on their secret and is about to become a vampire.

No self-analysis is needed here; I just know it's plain old jealousy. But… why?

Hmm… Let's see:

1. Rosalie is already so stunning that I can't imagine vampire enhancement doing anything more for her looks.

2. She's also an incredibly talented musician, so much so that Aro Volturi, with his hobby of collecting unique talents (see also: The Guard), thinks she's worth sharing the biggest vampire secret with and is willing to bend his own rules for her.

3. She's been close to Edward since she was very young, and soon she'll be his equal. Even though he doesn't seem thrilled about her upcoming transformation, he doesn't have the same intense reaction he had when I asked if Aro would want me to become a vampire.

I'm not sure what to make of that last observation or why it rattles me the most. Edward has never given me any reason to suspect there was anything between them beyond friendship, and neither has she. Am I really that insecure and shallow, letting jealousy creep in when I should be savoring this time and basking in the glow of new love and all that?

On the third day, when I begin itching under my skin from the lack of development, I finally receive news. However, it's not delivered in the form of a message from Carlisle. A letter arrives in an embossed and clearly expensive envelope, signed "Jane Volturi Sforza." My hands shake so violently as I hold it that the letter slips out. Alistair catches it in the air and shoots me a worried glance.

"Should I read it for you, child?" he asks.

I nod silently.

He quickly skims the letter, ready from the look on his face to censor anything that might upset me. Just like Maggie, he always tries to wrap Isabella in bubble wrap. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"My goodness! How delightful! As Edward's fiancée, you are graciously invited to join her and her father, Signor Volturi, at his loge at the Italian Opera for the renewal of Rossini's La Gazza Ladra." Alistair attempts to imitate the Italian accent and fails miserably. "It appears to be the very same loge… Was this the arrangement of which Edward spoke?" I nod again, though Edward didn't tell me anything. "She will come to collect you in her carriage on the night of the performance, so you need not concern yourself with arranging your own transportation." Alistair looks excited. "At last, someone shall have the opportunity to meet this Signor and determine whether he is indeed a myth or not! For I was beginning to suspect he might be the former. Listen attentively to all that he says and commit it to memory. Perhaps a sketch would also be in order." He grins at me. "Your aunt will not easily forgive any omission, however minor, of the smallest detail."

"Laugh, laugh," I grumble. "Pray tell, how in Heaven's name am I to engage in conversation with them?" If there even going to be a conversation. Maybe they will just finish me off and serve my blood in that wine decanter that was sitting on the table last time.

"What do you mean, how? They evidently speak English—at least, the daughter does." Alistair waves Jane Sforza's letter in front of my face, and I roll my eyes. "Although, you will likely find yourself with little opportunity to contribute to the conversation. Italians are known for their loquaciousness and penchant for elaborate gestures. They shall, undoubtedly, manage all the discourse themselves."

With that, he chuckles and retreats to the library.

XXX

If you think that after everything that's happened since September, I've given up on the idea that I'm dreaming (have gone mental, died – insert whichever you like better), you clearly don't know me. I still think about it now and then and keep coming to the same conclusion: it's not out of the question. In fact, it remains one of the most plausible explanations for what's going on.

Compare:

"Bella fell asleep and had a really long and bizarre dream."

Vs.

"Bella fell asleep, fell through time, found herself inserted in someone else's life, bumped into her gorgeous boss (who turned out to be a 181-year-old vampire), got engaged to him, and is now about to be killed because the Vampire King doesn't like his subjects going around revealing themselves to humans."

See? That's what I'm talking about.

It's like in those paranormal romance novels where you have it all: pirates, aliens, elves, BDSM-loving demons, who are also members of the Irish mafia in their free time… There's too much going on in this time travel adventure of mine to be… no, not even real, but at least, remotely believable.

For the most part, however, I've stopped wondering. Raking my brain every day doesn't help get back home, or wake up, or figure out what I'm going to tell the Vampire King… not one bit.

Also, Edward's kisses on my lips last night felt very real, and while he was exploring my neck and that sensitive spot behind my ear, I couldn't care less about… anything, let alone getting back to the 21st century, where things might be completely different between us.

See, last night, he'd finally climbed up to my window and stayed with me until I could no longer keep my eyes open, worn out from the nerves caused by his absence and the impending "audience."

"Forgive me, my angel," he whispered in my ear as I clung to him. "Carlisle and I were called to join Aro and his entourage for many lengthy discussions on various subjects. I could not excuse myself."

"How did he even learn about me?" I asked.

"By sheer coincidence. It seems that news of our engagement was much talked about, and one of the Guard happened to hear of it in passing during his visit to England last month. He thought little of it, but upon his return, Aro read his mind and recognized my name." Edward sighed.

"And then he came to London… Did he read your mind? Did he touch you?" I asked. Anxiety twisted my stomach into knots.

Edward nodded gravely. "He did. He was quite displeased but also… intrigued. I saw it in his mind… Generally, he is most proficient at hiding his thoughts from me, but on this occasion, he permitted himself several unguarded moments." He hesitated. "He is bringing someone… Another of his elite who is an expert on vampire talents. That alone is a sign of his great interest." His gaze was suddenly very serious and pained. "My greatest concern now is Jane. She can be… vicious." He closed his eyes and swallowed.

"Jane? Aro's daughter?" I asked.

"She only poses as his daughter. As I told you, we cannot procreate… Jane's gift is inflicting pain, though solely of a mental nature—no physical harm ensues. Yet, I assure you, there exists no greater instrument of torture in this world than Jane Sforza."

I should have asked Edward more about her so that seeing her for the first time wouldn't turn out to be such a surprise.

Somehow, I'd assumed she was my age or even older. In the additional message I'd received—not even sure from whom—that instructed me to be ready by 5 o'clock, she was referred to as Mrs. Sforza. So, I figured she must be married or perhaps a widow, like Isabella. I pictured someone tall and regal, a Vampire Princess with raven black hair and a piercing gaze.

But as soon as I step into the imposing, spacious carriage upholstered in various shades of gray plush, I realize that I was both right and completely wrong.

Jane is tiny.

I'm of average height, but living in Seattle among its many Scandinavian descendants always made me feel short. It's a shock to see an adult who is way shorter than me and super thin, too. Jane doesn't look a day older than 13. She's dressed in half-mourning: a lavender-colored dress that makes her waist so small that I wonder if she has any internal organs left in there and a large black hat with a short lacy veil that hides the upper part of her face. I wonder if her mourning is real or a part of her "cover."

As the footman closes the door of the carriage, Jane smiles—or bares her teeth anyway. Then she raises her head and lifts her veil.

A pair of crimson-red eyes stare at me with clinical interest. I make an effort not to flinch.

"It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Mrs. Dwyer. Edward is quite taken with you," she says in a high, melodic voice. She speaks like a born and raised upper-class Londoner. "My father awaits you."

I mutter my own greetings and grimace inwardly. She's very attractive, beautiful even, with flawless skin, high cheekbones, and soft blonde curls artfully styled at her temples, but the creepy eyes kind of ruin it for me. My heart races, and the fact that she can hear it, makes its gallop even faster. I hate to be on a display like this, especially in the closed space of the carriage.

Jane lowers her veil, and the rest of our trip passes in silence. At least she doesn't try to make me feel like I have stomach cramps, or worse, a migraine. Or suck my blood, for that matter… Maybe she's leaving that part to her "father." A couple of times, I get a weird sensation, as if a metal hoop hugs my head and squeezes, but it's so fleeting that I barely register it before it's gone. It must be just my nerves.

Finally, we arrive at the Italian Opera House.

It suddenly occurs to me we're at least an hour early, and I wonder what that means. The main entrance to the theatre is still closed, but the carriage doesn't even stop there. We're taken to a back door, where a very tall, large man stands with his hat pulled low to shade his face. He looks like a bodyguard or a bouncer.

Jane and the man exchange glances as he opens the door for us. He wants to say something but all of a sudden, he tenses and looks up. The next moment, I see Edward speeding down the flight of stairs, his eyes wild. He grabs my arm and pulls me to him in a swift movement, frantically searching my face. I squeeze his hand reassuringly and smile.

Jane giggles behind me.

"Oh, Edward, your human pet is perfectly well and unharmed," she says sweetly, but her voice carries a hint of disappointment.

Edward makes a noise that could probably pass for a throat-clearing, only it comes out with too much vibrato, almost like a growl. "Thank you, Jane," he replies tersely and offers me his arm. The three of us walk upstairs at my speed, while the bodyguard remains at the door.

By the time we reach the loge through a series of dimly lit corridors, I'm less nervous than I've been all day. It's as if I spent all my anxiety on the ride with the Black Widow, aka Jane Sforza. It's also possible that Edward holding my hand has something to do with my sudden calmness. I even feel mildly curious—it's not every day that you're introduced to the Vampire King. Should I call him "Your Majesty"? Edward just called his "daughter" by her first name, so probably not, but then again, I'm not a vampire. Is there a different etiquette for how humans are supposed to address vampires? Hmm... Given how, ahem, short-lived those relationships usually are, there probably isn't any etiquette at all.

With only a couple of candles lit and the main light blocked by the privacy curtain, I don't immediately notice that the loge is full of people. Or rather vampires. The place is positively crowded today. There's Carlisle, who smiles at me brightly, another man in his late 30s-early 40s with prominent dark circles under his eyes, a teenage boy with a face that looks like a male version of Jane's, and then there's Aro. I know that it's him right away, although I'm not sure why.

Aro's age is impossible to discern. In my time, he'd probably be considered to be in his early to mid-40s, but I've learned that here, my age guesses don't always hold up. He could've been turned at a much younger age… I wonder when that happened. Edward mentioned millennia. Aro has long brown hair that falls to his shoulders and a handsome face with classical features. There's a certain pedigree to him. His eyes are dark, almost black in the dim light, though I assume their true color is red. Strangely, unlike with Jane, the thought doesn't unsettle me. Maybe it's because what stands out the most is the fierce intelligence in his gaze. Or maybe because Aro's smile, which he flashes the moment he sees me, seems genuine. It instantly makes his face look ten years younger. Before I know it, I'm smiling back at him.

Edward tenses beside me, probably listening to the thoughts in the room and not liking them. I reluctantly release his hand and curtsy.

Aro clasps his hands together, much like Maggie often does. "My dear Bella, may I call you that?" His speech carries a slight accent that I can't quite place. "We meet at last!" he exclaims as he extends his hand toward me, holding it a little higher than suitable for a handshake.

For a second, I'm taken aback, half-expecting him to want me to kiss it, Godfather-style. Aro may look far better than Don Corleone, but not enough to make such an unhygienic act appealing.

Then it dawns on me.

I look up at Edward with the unspoken question in my eyes. His gaze is haunted, but I register the moment he regains his composure. He smiles softly and nods.

Aro's hand is so cold it burns when he touches my cheek. The sensation is intensely unpleasant, but then it's gone. A long, awkward moment follows as he stays completely still as if listening to something only he can hear. Then, the look of deep concentration on his face shifts to one of utter surprise.

Apparently, it's a pleasant surprise, too. He lets go of my face and turns to Edward, beaming.

"There is nothing! An absolute, impenetrable wall! Similar to what you feel, in fact… Incredible!" he says, sweeping his gaze around the room. His eyes sparkle like rubies. Then he says "Jane, Alec?" and the three of them, including the teenage boy, exchange loaded glances. Jane slowly shakes her head as if to say "no," while the boy just stares at Aro, bewilderment written all over his face. Edward makes another strange vibrating sound. This silent exchange is getting on my nerves, and even though Aro is being all nice and polite and hasn't shown any signs of wanting to drink my blood just yet, I start to feel uneasy.

"Um, excuse me, Mr. Volturi? Sir? My apologies. I wasn't given instructions on how to address you," I begin, my voice not as smooth and controlled as I'd like—it comes out squeaky. "What do you mean, there is nothing? As in, nothing in my head? I assure you, there are things… too many, if you ask me." I roll my eyes inwardly. Not the best moment to showcase The Best of Blabbering Bella, but unfortunately that's my usual stress response.

How is it possible that he can't read my mind? Does it mean that I'm doomed? He surely won't believe just my words…

Aro lets out a happy laugh. "I have very little doubt of that, my dearest Bella," he says. "And please call me Aro. We do not enforce formalities here… But where are my manners?! Please, do sit down!" He waves to the chair right in front of me.

Since everyone else is standing, it feels awkward to sit down, but I do as he says. The chairs are arranged differently today: instead of facing the stage, they face each other. Aro then signals to the man with dark circles under his eyes to come closer and says to me, "I hear that you have come to us from many years hence. How most extraordinary! But fear not, you are in excellent hands. As you know, I am surrounded by the most talented individuals in the world." He still wears that infectious smile on his face. "Together, we shall endeavor to discover how you might be restored to your own time. I am confident that while this task may be challenging, it is not beyond our capabilities… Please, allow me to introduce Eleazar."

Up close, Eleazar—a tall, slender man with Mediterranean features—looks worn out. To my surprise, his eyes are the same greenish-yellow shade as Edward's, only the color is duller. Another vegan? I remember Edward mentioning that Aro was bringing some talent agent. I assumed that he was part of The Guard, but from what I'd gathered, they were all traditional vamps.

"Eleazar, what do you make of Miss Bella, or should we call her Mrs. Dwyer? Can you sense her ability to travel against the flow of time?" Aro inquiries with barely contained giddiness.

Eleazar bows to Aro and then to me. "Master, all I can read from her is that she is shielding her abilities. Which is a talent in itself, naturally. I am unable to reach beyond that."

Master? Not quite so informal after all, if you ask me. As if reading my mind, Aro says, "Eleazar is a former member of the Guard and, therefore, chooses to adhere to the old traditions, perhaps out of nostalgia…" He sighs theatrically. "This new life of abstaining from our main source of sustenance—similar to what your friends Carlisle and Edward practice–is hard on him."

"Precisely," Jane interjects. "How do we know that Eleazar's ability has not been corrupted by the inferior blood he consumes?"

She sounds a little whiny.

Aro looks at her with an indulgent smile. "Eleazar's ability has not faulted us once, my dear, and his integrity is just as steadfast," he says. Then she turns to Carlisle. "I suppose that we shall be forced to ascertain her experiences and potential through nothing more than conversation…" There's incredulity in his soft, melodic voice. "How thrilling! What a most remarkable, unbelievable opportunity!" He shoots a glance at Edward and adds mischievously, "Oh, Edward, it is only now that I understand what a treasure you have stumbled upon… Or rather, she stumbled upon you! It has been a long time since anything entertained me to this extent! That moment when she braved your window holding a metal wrench…" Aro giggles like a little girl.

"My apologies, Aro, but Bella must be very tired," Edward interrupts in a clipped tone, speaking a little louder than necessary—especially considering that everyone here, except me, has perfect hearing. Then he closes his eyes briefly as if listening to someone. A muscle twitches in his jaw before he continues in his usual calm, composed manner. "Could she be excused? It was a trying day for her, and the loge is definitely not large enough to hold so many guests."

Aro cocks his head to one side and studies him, a smile playing on his lips. "There is more than enough space, Maestro Masen. Alec and Eleazar are leaving. You, on the contrary, cannot leave. Rosalie has been practicing so industriously to impress us. Although, I still think that the part of Ninetta is not the best fit for her… It should have been at least transposed to suit her range."

Edward bows, his face unreadable. Eleazar and the teenager say their goodbyes and leave, the latter casting me a farewell glance that makes my skin crawl.

Aro says quietly, "Felix, we need your assistance," and in a few seconds, the bodyguard from downstairs appears and quickly rearranges the chairs. Aro then fumbles in his pocket and produces a pair of tinted spectacles. He puts them on and smiles at me apologetically. "Now, I look like a blind old man, but if that is the price of experiencing life as it passes by, so be it." He takes the middle chair in the front row and pats the one on his right side. "Dear Mrs. Dwyer, please do me the honor."

I reluctantly take the offered seat, while Jane takes the one on his left. It might be my imagination, but she looks pissed. Maybe she doesn't approve of Aro's fascination with humans… First, it's Rosalie, and now, me… Or maybe she's just jealous. Was she a human with a "potential" once, too? Edward and Carlisle take the seats in the second row. Edward is behind me, but Aro is closer, and the thought of it makes my body tense and my palms sweaty.

The privacy screen finally opens, and I can see that the theatre is almost full. The musicians are already in the orchestra pit, and all the noises produced by the audience drown in the cacophony of tuning instruments.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised that virtually every head in the theatre turns in our direction. Clearly, the news of the mysterious Signor Volturi finally gracing the loge with his presence has spread like wildfire. I glance at Aro, who seems to be paying zero attention to the furor he's produced, and he stares back.

"Are you looking forward to hearing Ms. Hale, Signor Vol… Aro?" Why did I think that making small talk with the Vampire King was a good idea? I blush. Aro immediately becomes very still, clearly not breathing. Behind me, I feel Edward and Carlisle also freeze. The whole thing is just so bizarre, as if someone's paused the scene of a movie with their remote control.

The next moment, everything goes back to normal, and Aro laughs. "Oh, do not misunderstand me. I am indeed looking forward to it. Yet, even more so, I anticipate hearing you, my dear Bella." He takes my hand in both his and squeezes. Once again, I feel the searing cold of his touch. "I must know everything. Every single detail of that future of yours."

His eyes glint, and for a fraction of a second, I see the true Aro—an ancient, inhuman creature who treasures knowledge and the power it gives above anything else in the world.

XXX

The rest of the evening passes in a blur.

I love Rossini. His music is like champagne, sparkling and light, a pleasure for the senses, but this time I just can't relax enough to enjoy the experience. Rosalie, as Ninetta, clearly puts in an additional effort knowing that Aro is in attendance, and by the end of the opera, the audience is acting crazy. They're shouting and stomping like some overzealous football fans.

After the curtain falls, Carlisle thanks Aro for his hospitality and offers to take me home so that Jane can stay with Aro and meet with Rosalie. Aro doesn't mind, and Jane looks more than happy to be relieved of her chaperone duties, so we say our goodbyes. Using the same back door, we exit the theatre and find Felix the Bouncer and Jane's carriage waiting for us right outside. The horses clearly don't enjoy being in the company of three, possibly four, vampires (if the coachman is one, too), and I pray that they don't freak out on our way home and I end up in the Thames like Edward's parents.

Inside the carriage, I begin to say something, but Edward gestures for me to remain silent. So, the coachman probably is a vamp. Edward mouths, "I shall see you in your room," and I nod. Then we proceed to talk about the opera.

Carlisle does most of the talking, as if nothing unusual at all has happened and I haven't just spent three hours being X-rayed by the Vampire King and his cronies. He casually recalls the first performance of La Gazza Ladra, or The Thieving Magpie, at La Scala 13 years ago and how the composer finished writing the overture, famous for its snare drums mimicking a magpie, just hours before the show. The musicians had to sight-read the whole thing on the spot… I wonder how that turned out. Under different circumstances, I'd be eager to grill him for more details, but right now, I just can't. Edward seems just as overwhelmed, never letting go of my hand while his free hand drums a rapid cadence on his knee.

An hour later, I'm in my room and in my bed. My uncle and aunt were asleep when I returned, for which I was extremely grateful.

Seeing Aro, Jane, and the other Italian vampires has rattled me so much that sleep refuses to come. Aro's interest in me is, on one hand, reassuring—he doesn't seem intent on killing me or Edward, at least not yet. It's clear that I'm a double curiosity to him. First, because I'm immune to his vampire abilities, which makes two of them—him and Edward—possibly even three. Was the Black Widow testing her painful trick on me in the carriage when I felt that faint pressure in my head? And what about her creepy twin—what's his talent? I need to ask Edward. In any case, since their gifts don't affect me, I'm considered worthy of "figuring out." But that's not all: apparently, Aro actually believes I'm from the future, or at least entertains the possibility that I'm telling the truth, and he's eager to know everything I do.

Now, the question is… Should I tell him? Especially, the important stuff? Aro is intelligent and charming, and he's clearly made an effort to make me feel at ease… But even the thought of telling him makes me nauseated.

Someone with Aro's resources, if put on the side of evil, can do a lot of damage.

Hate to break your bubble, girlfriend, but he's already on that side, my inner cynic reminds me. Have you forgotten? He drinks human blood! He's not on the side of the human race, and he'll do whatever he pleases, whatever suits him, and fuck everybody else.

Let's do a case study.

For a music historian—okay, a former music historian—I'm embarrassingly bad at major dates, but there's one date that every American carries in their heart at all times, and that's 9/11. I, Bella Swan, have the knowledge that on a specific date 167 years from now, thousands of my fellow Americans will die. I know exactly how and where, and I'm now acquainted with a bunch of powerful immortals who could theoretically prevent that from happening. But… even if we ignore the possible butterfly effect, could I really trust Aro to prevent 9/11? Would Aro act in the interests of the victims and not his own? Nobody can guarantee that. Moreover, knowing about an attack of this magnitude in advance, he may try to meddle and make the result even worse, accidentally or deliberately. Like, for example, by arranging for somebody very important to be in the Twin Towers on that day, or storing explosives there so that nobody would have a chance to survive… Of course, he might want to do nothing of the sort, but there's no way to know, and I simply don't trust him. He's not human, and he enjoys his own entertainment above all. I saw that much in his eyes.

There's a knock on my window, and Edward climbs into the room. After a moment of enjoying his mouth on mine, too short for my liking, I tell him that I find it hard to believe that Aro will just try to help me get back home in exchange for an innocuous chat about the future.

"What was that wordless conversation between Aro, Jane, and her twin about? Did Jane try her sadistic gift on me? And who's her brother?" I ask.

For a long moment, Edward remains silent. Then he takes a deep breath.

"I am afraid that you are correct in your assessment. Aro was mostly hiding his thoughts tonight, but some of them slipped. Yes, Jane and Alec both tested their abilities on you. Alec's gift is sense deprivation. His victims lose the faculty of all their senses, which creates anxiety to an unbearable degree. None of their gifts affected you." Edward takes my hands in his and presses them to his cool face, then kisses my palms. "Aro does believe that you can time travel, and his greatest desire is to understand how you do it, but in the meanwhile, to collect as much knowledge about what you know as possible. Thankfully, you did not tell me much."

It takes a second for the full meaning of Edward's words to sink in. I gasp.

"Oh, crap! But that means… How did I not think about that? I don't even have to tell him. Whatever I tell you, or Carlisle, is a touch away from him, right?! He'll know anyway!" I stare at Edward. "Can you tell him not to touch you? Can you refuse?!"

Edward gently scoops me into his arms, and the next moment, I'm sitting on his lap. "I cannot," he says quietly. "Not unless I remove myself to somewhere far, far away from him, which is no longer possible. He has already informed me of his interest in observing my pianoforte career. We, Rosalie and I, have become his latest endeavors… his chosen means of disrupting the eternal monotony of his existence."

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "Even if I chose to disregard his desire and attempt to flee, he possesses the means to locate anyone, anywhere, as I have already mentioned. And yes, when he encounters someone in person, he offers them an embrace and a kiss, instantly gaining knowledge of everything that has happened."

I wince. "Shit… um, sorry. Everything? Including this conversation?" I ask.

Edward just nods.

"Well, that sucks. Has he ever heard of privacy? But at least he's not going to kill me… us… right away, so there's that…" I thread my fingers into Edward's hair and sigh. "Stay with me tonight? Until I fall asleep?"

Without a word, Edward lowers me onto the sheets and covers me with a blanket. He never gets under the blanket with me, no matter how many times I ask, but today, clearly shaken by the events of the evening, he actually takes off his coat and shoes and joins me.

"Now, every time we're together, I'll be thinking of Aro and how he'll be watching us in your memories," I whine, although I don't really mean it. It's just a ploy to pull my body closer to his.

To my surprise, Edward lets out a soft, carefree laugh. "Let him," he says, sounding just a touch smug. "Do not think about him, my love." His sweet cool breath is so soothing against my skin that I drift off before I can tell him that I was only joking.

That when he touches me, I can think of no one else.

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A/N: Thank you for all your comments and theories! I'm beyond grateful!

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