reason to return.
“The wars resumed, but on a smaller scale. Every now and then, someone would go too far, speculation
would begin in the human newspapers, and the Volturi would return and clean out the city. But they let the
others, the careful ones, continue. . . .”
Jasper was staring off into space.
“That’s how you were changed.” My realization was a whisper.
“Yes,” he agreed. “When I was human, I lived in Houston, Texas. I was almost seventeen years old when
I joined the Confederate Army in 1861. I lied to the recruiters and told them I was twenty. I was tall enough
to get away with it.
“My military career was short-lived, but very promising. People always . . . liked me, listened to what I
had to say. My father said it was charisma. Of course, now I know it was probably something more. But,
whatever the reason, I was promoted quickly through the ranks, over older, more experienced men. The
Confederate Army was new and scrambling to organize itself, so that provided opportunities, as well. By the
first battle of Galveston — well, it was more of a skirmish, really — I was the youngest major in Texas, not
even acknowledging my real age.
“I was placed in charge of evacuating the women and children from the city when the Union’s mortar
boats reached the harbor. It took a day to prepare them, and then I left with the first column of civilians to
convey them to Houston.
“I remember that one night very clearly.
“We reached the city after dark. I stayed only long enough to make sure the entire party was safely
situated. As soon as that was done, I got myself a fresh horse, and I headed back to Galveston. There wasn’t
time to rest.
“Just a mile outside the city, I found three women on foot. I assumed they were stragglers and dismounted
at once to offer them my aid. But, when I could see their faces in the dim light of the moon, I was stunned into
silence. They were, without question, the three most beautiful women I had ever seen.
“They had such pale skin, I remember marveling at it. Even the little black-haired girl, whose features were
clearly Mexican, was porcelain in the moonlight. They seemed young, all of them, still young enough to be
called girls. I knew they were not lost members of our party. I would have remembered seeing these three.
“‘He’s speechless,’ the tallest girl said in a lovely, delicate voice — it was like wind chimes. She had fair
hair, and her skin was snow white.
“The other was blonder still, her skin just as chalky. Her face was like an angel’s. She leaned toward me
with half-closed eyes and inhaled deeply.
“‘Mmm,’ she sighed. ‘Lovely.’
“The small one, the tiny brunette, put her hand on the girl’s arm and spoke quickly. Her voice was too soft
and musical to be sharp, but that seemed to be the way she intended it.
“‘Concentrate, Nettie,’ she said.
“I’d always had a good sense of how people related to each other, and it was immediately clear that the
brunette was somehow in charge of the others. If they’d been military, I would have said that she outranked
them.
“‘He looks right — young, strong, an officer. . . . ’ The brunette paused, and I tried unsuccessfully to
speak. ‘And there’s something more . . . do you sense it?’ she asked the other two. ‘He’s . . . compelling.’
“‘Oh, yes,’ Nettie quickly agreed, leaning toward me again.
“‘Patience,’ the brunette cautioned her. ‘I want to keep this one.’
“Nettie frowned; she seemed annoyed.
“‘You’d better do it, Maria,’ the taller blonde spoke again. ‘If he’s important to you. I kill them twice as
often as I keep them.’
“‘Yes, I’ll do it,’ Maria agreed. ‘I really do like this one. Take Nettie away, will you? I don’t want to have
to protect my back while I’m trying to focus.’
“My hair was standing up on the back of my neck, though I didn’t understand the meaning of anything the
beautiful creatures were saying. My instincts told me that there was danger, that the angel had meant it when
she spoke of killing, but my judgment overruled my instincts. I had not been taught to fear women, but to
protect them.
“‘Let’s hunt,’ Nettie agreed enthusiastically, reaching for the tall girl’s hand. They wheeled — they were
so graceful! — and sprinted toward the city. They seemed to almost take flight, they were so fast — their
white dresses blew out behind them like wings. I blinked in amazement, and they were gone.
“I turned to stare at Maria, who was watching me curiously.
“I’d never been superstitious in my life. Until that second, I’d never believed in ghosts or any other such
nonsense. Suddenly, I was unsure.
“‘What is your name, soldier?’ Maria asked me.
“‘Major Jasper Whitlock, ma’am,’ I stammered, unable to be impolite to a female, even if she was a
ghost.
“‘I truly hope you survive, Jasper,’ she said in her gentle voice. ‘I have a good feeling about you.’
“She took a step closer, and inclined her head as if she were going to kiss me. I stood frozen in place,
though my instincts were screaming at me to run.”
Jasper paused, his face thoughtful. “A few days later,” he finally said, and I wasn’t sure if he had edited his
story for my sake or because he was responding to the tension that even I could feel exuding from Edward, “I
was introduced to my new life.
“Their names were Maria, Nettie, and Lucy. They hadn’t been together long — Maria had rounded up the
other two — all three were survivors of recently lost battles. Theirs was a partnership of convenience. Maria
wanted revenge, and she wanted her territories back. The others were eager to increase their . . . herd lands, I
suppose you could say. They were putting together an army, and going about it more carefully than was usual.
It was Maria’s idea. She wanted a superior army, so she sought out specific humans who had potential. Then
she gave us much more attention, more training than anyone else had bothered with. She taught us to fight, and
she taught us to be invisible to the humans. When we did well, we were rewarded. . . .”
He paused, editing again.
“She was in a hurry, though. Maria knew that the massive strength of the newborn began to wane around
the year mark, and she wanted to act while we were strong.
“There were six of us when I joined Maria’s band. She added four more within a fortnight. We were all
male — Maria wanted soldiers — and that made it slightly more difficult to keep from fighting amongst
ourselves. I fought my first battles against my new comrades in arms. I was quicker than the others, better at
combat. Maria was pleased with me, though put out that she had to keep replacing the ones I destroyed. I
was rewarded often, and that made me stronger.
“Maria was a good judge of character. She decided to put me in charge of the others — as if I were being
promoted. It suited my nature exactly. The casualties went down dramatically, and our numbers swelled to
hover around twenty.
“This was considerable for the cautious times we lived in. My ability, as yet undefined, to control the
emotional atmosphere around me was vitally effective. We soon began to work together in a way that
newborn vampires had never cooperated before. Even Maria, Nettie, and Lucy were able to work together
more easily.
“Maria grew quite fond of me — she began to depend upon me. And, in some ways, I worshipped the
ground she walked on. I had no idea that any other life was possible. Maria told us this was the way things
were, and we believed.
“She asked me to tell her when my brothers and I were ready to fight, and I was eager to prove myself. I
pulled together an army of twenty-three in the end — twenty-three unbelievably strong new vampires,
organized and skilled as no others before. Maria was ecstatic.
“We crept down toward Monterrey, her former home, and she unleashed us on her enemies. They had
only nine newborns at the time, and a pair of older vampires controlling them. We took them down more
easily than Maria could believe, losing only four in the process. It was an unheard-of margin of victory.
“And we were well trained. We did it without attracting notice. The city changed hands without any human
being aware.
“Success made Maria greedy. It wasn’t long before she began to eye other cities. That first year, she
extended her control to cover most of Texas and northern Mexico. Then the others came from the South to
dislodge her.”
He brushed two fingers along the faint pattern of scars on his arm.
“The fighting was intense. Many began to worry that the Volturi would return. Of the original twenty-three,
I was the only one to survive the first eighteen months. We both won and lost. Nettie and Lucy turned on
Maria eventually — but that one we won.
“Maria and I were able to hold on to Monterrey. It quieted a little, though the wars continued. The idea of
conquest was dying out; it was mostly vengeance and feuding now. So many had lost their partners, and that is
something our kind does not forgive. . . .
“Maria and I always kept a dozen or so newborns ready. They meant little to us — they were pawns, they
were disposable. When they outgrew their usefulness, we did dispose of them. My life continued in the same
violent pattern and the years passed. I was sick of it all for a very long time before anything changed . . .
“Decades later, I developed a friendship with a newborn who’d remained useful and survived his first
three years, against the odds. His name was Peter. I liked Peter; he was . . . civilized — I suppose that’s the
right word. He didn’t enjoy the fight, though he was good at it.
“He was assigned to deal with the newborns — babysit them, you could say. It was a full-time job.
“And then it was time to purge again. The newborns were outgrowing their strength; they were due to be
replaced. Peter was supposed to help me dispose of them. We took them aside individually, you see, one by
one . . . It was always a very long night. This time, he tried to convince me that a few had potential, but Maria
had instructed that we get rid of them all. I told him no.
“We were about halfway through, and I could feel that it was taking a great toll on Peter. I was trying to
decide whether or not I should send him away and finish up myself as I called out the next victim. To my
surprise, he was suddenly angry, furious. I braced for whatever his mood might foreshadow — he was a good
fighter, but he was never a match for me.
“The newborn I’d summoned was a female, just past her year mark. Her name was Charlotte. His feelings
changed when she came into view; they gave him away. He yelled for her to run, and he bolted after her. I
could have pursued them, but I didn’t. I felt . . . averse to destroying him.
“Maria was irritated with me for that . . .
“Five years later, Peter snuck back for me. He picked a good day to arrive.
“Maria was mystified by my ever-deteriorating frame of mind. She’d never felt a moment’s depression,
and I wondered why I was different. I began to notice a change in her emotions when she was near me —
sometimes there was fear . . . and malice — the same feelings that had given me advance warning when Nettie
and Lucy struck. I was preparing myself to destroy my only ally, the core of my existence, when Peter
returned.
“Peter told me about his new life with Charlotte, told me about options I’d never dreamed I had. In five
years, they’d never had a fight, though they’d met many others in the north. Others who could co-exist without
the constant mayhem.
“In one conversation, he had me convinced. I was ready to go, and somewhat relieved I wouldn’t have to
kill Maria. I’d been her companion for as many years as Carlisle and Edward have been together, yet the
bond between us was nowhere near as strong. When you live for the fight, for the blood, the relationships you
form are tenuous and easily broken. I walked away without a backward glance.
“I traveled with Peter and Charlotte for a few years, getting the feel of this new, more peaceful world. But
the depression didn’t fade. I didn’t understand what was wrong with me, until Peter noticed that it was always
worse after I’d hunted.
“I contemplated that. In so many years of slaughter and carnage, I’d lost nearly all of my humanity. I was
undeniably a nightmare, a monster of the grisliest kind. Yet each time I found another human victim, I would
feel a faint prick of remembrance for that other life. Watching their eyes widen in wonder at my beauty, I could
see Maria and the others in my head, what they had looked like to me the last night that I was Jasper
Whitlock. It was stronger for me — this borrowed memory — than it was for anyone else, because I could
feel everything my prey was feeling. And I lived their emotions as I killed them.
“You’ve experienced the way I can manipulate the emotions around myself, Bella, but I wonder if you
realize how the feelings in a room affect me. I live every day in a climate of emotion. For the first century of my
life, I lived in a world of bloodthirsty vengeance. Hate was my constant companion. It eased some when I left
Maria, but I still had to feel the horror and fear of my prey.
“It began to be too much.
“The depression got worse, and I wandered away from Peter and Charlotte. Civilized as they were, they
didn’t feel the same aversion I was beginning to feel. They only wanted peace from the fight. I was so wearied
by killing — killing anyone, even mere humans.
“Yet I had to keep killing. What choice did I have? I tried to kill less often, but I would get too thirsty and
I would give in. After a century of instant gratification, I found self-discipline . . . challenging. I still haven’t
perfected that.”
Jasper was lost in the story, as was I. It surprised me when his desolate expression smoothed into a
peaceful smile.
“I was in Philadelphia. There was a storm, and I was out during the day — something I was not
completely comfortable with yet. I knew standing in the rain would attract attention, so I ducked into a little
half-empty diner. My eyes were dark enough that no one would notice them, though this meant I was thirsty,
and that worried me a little.
“She was there — expecting me, naturally.” He chuckled once. “She hopped down from the high stool at
the counter as soon as I walked in and came directly toward me.
“It shocked me. I was not sure if she meant to attack. That’s the only interpretation of her behavior my
past had to offer. But she was smiling. And the emotions that were emanating from her were like nothing I’d
ever felt before.
“‘You’ve kept me waiting a long time,’ she said.”
I didn’t realize Alice had come to stand behind me again.
“And you ducked your head, like a good Southern gentleman, and said, ‘I’m sorry, ma’am.’” Alice
laughed at the memory.
Jasper smiled down at her. “You held out your hand, and I took it without stopping to make sense of what
I was doing. For the first time in almost a century, I felt hope.”
Jasper took Alice’s hand as he spoke.
Alice grinned. “I was just relieved. I thought you were never going to show up.”
They smiled at each other for a long moment, and then Jasper looked back to me, the soft expression
lingering.
“Alice told me what she’d seen of Carlisle and his family. I could hardly believe that such an existence was
possible. But Alice made me optimistic. So we went to find them.”
“Scared the hell out of them, too,” Edward said, rolling his eyes at Jasper before turning to me to explain.
“Emmett and I were away hunting. Jasper shows up, covered in battle scars, towing this little freak” — he
nudged Alice playfully — “who greets them all by name, knows everything about them, and wants to know
which room she can move into.”
Alice and Jasper laughed in harmony, soprano and bass.
“When I got home, all my things were in the garage,” Edward continued.
Alice shrugged. “Your room had the best view.”
They all laughed together now.
“That’s a nice story,” I said.
Three pairs of eyes questioned my sanity.
“I mean the last part,” I defended myself. “The happy ending with Alice.”
“Alice has made all the difference,” Jasper agreed. “This is a climate I enjoy.”
But the momentary pause in the stress couldn’t last.
“An army,” Alice whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
The others were intent again, their eyes locked on Jasper’s face.
“I thought I must be interpreting the signs incorrectly. Because where is the motive? Why would someone
create an army in Seattle? There is no history there, no vendetta. It makes no sense from a conquest
standpoint, either; no one claims it. Nomads pass through, but there’s no one to fight for it. No one to defend
it from.
“But I’ve seen this before, and there’s no other explanation. There is an army of newborn vampires in
Seattle. Fewer than twenty, I’d guess. The difficult part is that they are totally untrained. Whoever made them
just set them loose. It will only get worse, and it won’t be much longer till the Volturi step in. Actually, I’m
surprised they’ve let this go on so long.”
“What can we do?” Carlisle asked.
“If we want to avoid the Volturi’s involvement, we will have to destroy the newborns, and we will have to
do it very soon.” Jasper’s face was hard. Knowing his story now, I could guess how this evaluation must
disturb him. “I can teach you how. It won’t be easy in the city. The young ones aren’t concerned about
secrecy, but we will have to be. It will limit us in ways that they are not. Maybe we can lure them out.”
“Maybe we won’t have to.” Edward’s voice was bleak. “Does it occur to anyone else that the only
possible threat in the area that would call for the creation of an army is . . . us?”
Jasper’s eyes narrowed; Carlisle’s widened, shocked.
“Tanya’s family is also near,” Esme said slowly, unwilling to accept Edward’s words.
“The newborns aren’t ravaging Anchorage, Esme. I think we have to consider the idea that we are the
targets.”
“They’re not coming after us,” Alice insisted, and then paused. “Or . . . they don’t know that they are.
Not yet.”
“What is that?” Edward asked, curious and tense. “What are you remembering?”
“Flickers,” Alice said. “I can’t see a clear picture when I try to see what’s going on, nothing concrete. But
I’ve been getting these strange flashes. Not enough to make sense of. It’s as if someone’s changing their mind,
moving from one course of action to another so quickly that I can’t get a good view. . . .”
“Indecision?” Jasper asked in disbelief.
“I don’t know. . . .”
“Not indecision,” Edward growled. “Knowledge. Someone who knows you can’t see anything until the
decision is made. Someone who is hiding from us. Playing with the holes in your vision.”
“Who would know that?” Alice whispered.
Edward’s eyes were hard as ice. “Aro knows you as well as you know yourself.”
“But I would see if they’d decided to come. . . .”
“Unless they didn’t want to get their hands dirty.”
“A favor,” Rosalie suggested, speaking for the first time. “Someone in the South . . . someone who already
had trouble with the rules. Someone who should have been destroyed is offered a second chance — if they
take care of this one small problem. . . . That would explain the Volturi’s sluggish response.”
“Why?” Carlisle asked, still shocked. “There’s no reason for the Volturi —”
“It was there,” Edward disagreed quietly. “I’m surprised it’s come to this so soon, because the other
thoughts were stronger. In Aro’s head he saw me at his one side and Alice at his other. The present and the
future, virtual omniscience. The power of the idea intoxicated him. I would have thought it would take him
much longer to give up on that plan — he wanted it too much. But there was also the thought of you, Carlisle,
of our family, growing stronger and larger. The jealousy and the fear: you having . . . not more than he had, but
still, things that he wanted. He tried not to think about it, but he couldn’t hide it completely. The idea of rooting
out the competition was there; besides their own, ours is the largest coven they’ve ever found. . . .”
I stared at his face in horror. He’d never told me this, but I guessed I knew why. I could see it in my head
now, Aro’s dream. Edward and Alice in black, flowing robes, drifting along at Aro’s side with their eyes cold
and blood-red. . . .
Carlisle interrupted my waking nightmare. “They’re too committed to their mission. They would never
break the rules themselves. It goes against everything they’ve worked for.”
“They’ll clean up afterward. A double betrayal,” Edward said in a grim voice. “No harm done.”
Jasper leaned forward, shaking his head. “No, Carlisle is right. The Volturi do not break rules. Besides,
it’s much too sloppy. This . . . person, this threat — they have no idea what they’re doing. A first-timer, I’d
swear to it. I cannot believe the Volturi are involved. But they will be.”
They all stared at each other, frozen with stress.
“Then let’s go,” Emmett almost roared. “What are we waiting for?”
Carlisle and Edward exchanged a long glance. Edward nodded once.
“We’ll need you to teach us, Jasper,” Carlisle finally said. “How to destroy them.” Carlisle’s jaw was
hard, but I could see the pain in his eyes as he said the words. No one hated violence more than Carlisle.
There was something bothering me, and I couldn’t put my finger on it. I was numb, horrified, deathly
afraid. And yet, under that, I could feel that I was missing something important. Something that would make
some sense out of the chaos. That would explain it.
“We’re going to need help,” Jasper said. “Do you think Tanya’s family would be willing . . . ? Another five
mature vampires would make an enormous difference. And then Kate and Eleazar would be especially
advantageous on our side. It would be almost easy, with their aid.”
“We’ll ask,” Carlisle answered.
Jasper held out a cell phone. “We need to hurry.”
I’d never seen Carlisle’s innate calm so shaken. He took the phone, and paced toward the windows. He
dialed a number, held the phone to his ear, and laid the other hand against the glass. He stared out into the
foggy morning with a pained and ambivalent expression.
Edward took my hand and pulled me to the white loveseat. I sat beside him, staring at his face while he
stared at Carlisle.
Carlisle’s voice was low and quick, difficult to hear. I heard him greet Tanya, and then he raced through
the situation too fast for me to understand much, though I could tell that the Alaskan vampires were not
ignorant of what was going on in Seattle.
Then something changed in Carlisle’s voice.
“Oh,” he said, his voice sharper in surprise. “We didn’t realize . . . that Irina felt that way.”
Edward groaned at my side and closed his eyes. “Damn it. Damn Laurent to the deepest pit of hell where
he belongs.”
“Laurent?” I whispered, the blood emptying from my face, but Edward didn’t respond, focused on
Carlisle’s thoughts.
My short encounter with Laurent early this spring was not something that had faded or dimmed in my
mind. I still remembered every word he’d said before Jacob and his pack had interrupted.
I actually came here as a favor to her. . . .
Victoria. Laurent had been her first maneuver — she’d sent him to observe, to see how hard it might be to
get to me. He hadn’t survived the wolves to report back.
Though he’d kept up his old ties with Victoria after James’s death, he’d also formed new ties and new
relationships. He’d gone to live with Tanya’s family in Alaska — Tanya the strawberry blonde — the closest
friends the Cullens had in the vampire world, practically extended family. Laurent had been with them for
almost a year previous to his death.
Carlisle was still talking, his voice not quite pleading. Persuasive, but with an edge. Then the edge abruptly
won out over the persuasion.
“There’s no question of that,” Carlisle said in a stern voice. “We have a truce. They haven’t broken it, and
neither will we. I’m sorry to hear that. . . . Of course. We’ll just have to do our best alone.”
Carlisle shut the phone without waiting for an answer. He continued to stare out into the fog.
“What’s the problem?” Emmett murmured to Edward.
“Irina was more involved with our friend Laurent than we knew. She’s holding a grudge against the wolves
for destroying him to save Bella. She wants —” He paused, looking down at me.
“Go on,” I said as evenly as I could.
His eyes tightened. “She wants revenge. To take down the pack. They would trade their help for our
permission.”
“No!” I gasped.
“Don’t worry,” he told me in a flat voice. “Carlisle would never agree to it.” He hesitated, then sighed.
“Nor would I. Laurent had it coming” — this was almost a growl — “and I still owe the wolves for that.”
“This isn’t good,” Jasper said. “It’s too even a fight. We’d have the upper hand in skill, but not numbers.
We’d win, but at what price?” His tense eyes flashed to Alice’s face and away.
I wanted to scream out loud as I grasped what Jasper meant.
We would win, but we would lose. Some wouldn’t survive.
I looked around the room at their faces — Jasper, Alice, Emmett, Rose, Esme, Carlisle . . . Edward —
the faces of my family.
14. DECLARATION
“YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS,” I SAID WEDNESDAY AFTERnoon. “You’ve completely lost your mind!”
“Say whatever you like about me,” Alice answered. “The party is still on.”
I stared at her, my eyes so wide with disbelief it felt like they might fall out and land on my lunch tray.
“Oh, calm down, Bella! There’s no reason not to go through with it. Besides, the invitations are already
sent.”
“But . . . the . . . you . . . I . . . insane!” I spluttered.
“You’ve already bought my present,” she reminded me. “You don’t have to do anything but show up.”
I made an effort to calm myself. “With everything that is going on right now, a party is hardly appropriate.”
“Graduation is what’s going on right now, and a party is so appropriate it’s almost passé。”
“Alice!”
She sighed, and tried to be serious. “There are a few things we need to get in order now, and that’s going
to take a little time. As long as we’re sitting here waiting, we might as well commemorate the good stuff.
You’re only going to graduate from high school — for the first time — once. You don’t get to be human
again, Bella. This is a once-in-a-lifetime shot.”
Edward, silent through our little argument, flashed her a warning look. She stuck out her tongue at him.
She was right — her soft voice would never carry over the babble of the cafeteria. And no one would
understand the meaning behind her words in any case.
“What few things do we need to get in order?” I asked, refusing to be sidetracked.
Edward answered in a low voice. “Jasper thinks we could use some help. Tanya’s family isn’t the only
choice we have. Carlisle’s trying to track down a few old friends, and Jasper is looking up Peter and
Charlotte. He’s considering talking to Maria . . . but no one really wants to involve the southerners.”
Alice shuddered delicately.
“It shouldn’t be too hard to convince them to help,” he continued. “Nobody wants a visit from Italy.”
“But these friends — they’re not going to be . . . vegetarians, right?” I protested, using the Cullens’
tongue-in-cheek nickname for themselves.
“No,” Edward answered, suddenly expressionless.
“Here? In Forks?”
“They’re friends,” Alice reassured me. “Everything’s going to be fine. Don’t worry. And then, Jasper has
to teach us a few courses on newborn elimination. . . .”
Edward’s eyes brightened at that, and a brief smile flashed across his face. My stomach suddenly felt like
it was full of sharp little splinters of ice.
“When are you going?” I asked in a hollow voice. I couldn’t stand this — the idea that someone might not
come back. What if it was Emmett, so brave and thoughtless that he was never the least bit cautious? Or
Esme, so sweet and motherly that I couldn’t even imagine her in a fight? Or Alice, so tiny, so fragile-looking?
Or . . . but I couldn’t even think the name, consider the possibility.
“A week,” Edward said casually. “That ought to give us enough time.”
The icy splinters twisted uncomfortably in my stomach. I was suddenly nauseated.
“You look kind of green, Bella,” Alice commented.
Edward put his arm around me and pulled me tightly against his side. “It’s going to be fine, Bella. Trust
me.”
Sure, I thought to myself. Trust him. He wasn’t the one who was going to have to sit behind and wonder
whether or not the core of his existence was going to come home.
And then it occurred to me. Maybe I didn’t need to sit behind. A week was more than enough time.
“You’re looking for help,” I said slowly.
“Yes.” Alice’s head cocked to the side as she processed the change in my tone.
I looked only at her as I answered. My voice was just slightly louder than a whisper. “I could help.”
Edward’s body was suddenly rigid, his arm too tight around me. He exhaled, and the sound was a hiss.
But it was Alice, still calm, who answered. “That really wouldn’t be helpful.”
“Why not?” I argued; I could hear the desperation in my voice. “Eight is better than seven. There’s more
than enough time.”
“There’s not enough time to make you helpful, Bella,” she disagreed coolly. “Do you remember how
Jasper described the young ones? You’d be no good in a fight. You wouldn’t be able to control your instincts,
and that would make you an easy target. And then Edward would get hurt trying to protect you.” She folded
her arms across her chest, pleased with her unassailable logic.
And I knew she was right, when she put it like that. I slumped in my seat, my sudden hope defeated.
Beside me, Edward relaxed.
He whispered the reminder in my ear. “Not because you’re afraid.”
“Oh,” Alice said, and a blank look crossed her face. Then her expression became surly. “I hate last-
minute cancellations. So that puts the party attendance list down to sixty-five. . . .”
“Sixty-five!” My eyes bulged again. I didn’t have that many friends. Did I even know that many people?
“Who canceled?” Edward wondered, ignoring me.
“Renée.”
“What?” I gasped.
“She was going to surprise you for your graduation, but something went wrong. You’ll have a message
when you get home.”
For a moment, I just let myself enjoy the relief. Whatever it was that went wrong for my mother, I was
eternally grateful to it. If she had come to Forks now . . . I didn’t want to think about it. My head would
explode.
The message light was flashing when I got home. My feeling of relief flared again as I listened to my mother
describe Phil’s accident on the ball field — while demonstrating a slide, he’d tangled up with the catcher and
broken his thigh bone; he was entirely dependent on her, and there was no way she could leave him. My mom
was still apologizing when the message cut off.
“Well, that’s one,” I sighed.
“One what?” Edward asked.
“One person I don’t have to worry about getting killed this week.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Why won’t you and Alice take this seriously?” I demanded. “This is serious.”
He smiled. “Confidence.”
“Wonderful,” I grumbled. I picked up the phone and dialed Renée’s number. I knew it would be a long
conversation, but I also knew that I wouldn’t have to contribute much.
I just listened, and reassured her every time I could get a word in: I wasn’t disappointed, I wasn’t mad, I
wasn’t hurt. She should concentrate on helping Phil get better. I passed on my “get well soon” to Phil, and
promised to call her with every single detail from Forks High’s generic graduation. Finally, I had to use my
desperate need to study for finals to get off the phone.
Edward’s patience was endless. He waited politely through the whole conversation, just playing with my
hair and smiling whenever I looked up. It was probably superficial to notice such things while I had so many
more important things to think about, but his smile still knocked the breath out of me. He was so beautiful that
it made it hard sometimes to think about anything else, hard to concentrate on Phil’s troubles or Renée’s
apologies or hostile vampire armies. I was only human.
As soon as I hung up, I stretched onto my tiptoes to kiss him. He put his hands around my waist and lifted
