- •Eclipse Stephenie Meyer
- •237 Park Avenue, New York, ny 10017
- •I saw a dim glimmer of possibility in that smile, but I proceeded slowly. “I’m confused, Dad. Are we talking about Jacob, or Edward, or me being grounded?”
- •I leveled a dark look at him. “There’s no competition.”
- •I pointed to the thick envelope on the counter. “I just got my acceptance to the University of Alaska!”
- •I took a deep breath. “I need to make it better, Edward. I owe him that. And it’s one of Charlie’s conditions, anyway —”
- •I ignored the ribbing, my attention caught by his assumption — was he serious? “But I didn’t bring them back. Don’t you know?”
- •It didn’t take long to determine where my restlessness stemmed from.
- •In my head, I went through the conversation again. . . .
- •I wiped my hand dramatically across my forehead, and then pretended to wring my hair out.
- •I sighed. Of course Charlie was waiting to pounce.
- •I turned slowly to face him. His expression was perfectly smooth — impossible to read.
- •I frowned in confusion. “What don’t I know? Edward?”
- •I was vividly conscious of Edward, his arms still wrapped protectively around me, motionless as a stone. I shot a look at his face — it was calm, patient.
- •I did try. And surprisingly, there were other things almost as stressful to dwell on besides my status on the endangered species list. . . .
- •I stopped with one arm in my vest. I knew that look.
- •I clutched the papers in both hands as I stared at the picture beneath the caption. A lump rose in my throat.
- •I tried to compose my face so that he would go on. My nails were digging into my palms with the stress of the story, even though I knew it had turned out fine.
- •I shuddered; of course she would be back. Would Edward really tell me next time? I wasn’t sure. I’d have to keep an eye on Alice, to look for the signs that the pattern was about to repeat. . . .
- •It was disconcerting the way he said this, like it would be a good thing to have no vampires in Forks. My heart thumped unevenly at the emptiness of the picture he painted.
- •I growled unimpressively.
- •I glanced up and down his mammoth frame, trying to be unbiased. “Not exactly, I guess.”
- •I took a deep breath. “Sorry. Age is a touchy subject for me. That hit a nerve.”
- •I gasped. “Emily is Leah’s cousin?”
- •I frowned. “Did Jared tell you that? He shouldn’t have.”
- •I followed Angela up the stairs to her room. She kicked toys out of the way as she went. The house was unusually quiet.
- •I shrugged.
- •I gasped and his eyes opened. They were as cold and hard as night.
- •I frowned suspiciously. “Or . . . Is this something else altogether? Some vampires-and-werewolves-are-always-enemies nonsense? Is this just a testosterone-fueled —”
- •It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but it looked like her bone white face got paler.
- •I shook my head.
- •I trudged off to English. Without Edward, the day was guaranteed to be unbearable. I sulked through my first class, well aware that my attitude wasn’t helping anything.
- •I nodded cautiously.
- •I stared at his face, waiting for his eyes to open.
- •I stopped breathing. This wasn’t the kind of thing he usually allowed. Despite his cold hands, I felt suddenly warm. His lips moved in the hollow at the base of my throat.
- •I smiled. “Didn’t you find any mountain lions?”
- •I shuddered.
- •I cringed at my father’s name.
- •I winced, and Esme rubbed my shoulder.
- •I handed the phone to Edward; I hoped he could read the warning in my eyes.
- •I took it slowly, feeling confused.
- •I pulled away from him and ran to put the knife in the sink before I doused it with bleach.
- •I shuddered again. “What can we do?”
- •I stared at him blankly. “I do?”
- •I took the red helmet, weighing it in my hands. “I’ll look stupid.”
- •I didn’t mention it out loud, but the biggest difference between the two circumstances was that Renйe and Charlie had been on better terms.
- •I tucked the helmet under my arm and threw the jacket across the seat.
- •11. Legends
- •It was easier being with my Quileute friends than I’d expected.
- •I shrank a little closer to Jacob’s side. I saw the corner of his mouth twitch with humor, and his arm tightened around me.
- •I paused, one foot on the ground. “No, Jake. Get some rest, I’ll be fine.”
- •I sighed and let my eyes close in contentment, resting there in his hands.
- •I’d sobered up by then, so I nodded and struggled to keep the frown off my face.
- •I shuddered. “No.”
- •I shuddered.
- •I didn’t realize Alice had come to stand behind me again.
- •I looked only at her as I answered. My voice was just slightly louder than a whisper. “I could help.”
- •I felt my face slip into a pout. He laughed at my expression as he extricated himself from my arms and legs. He leaned against the counter next to me and put one arm lightly around my shoulders.
- •I watched his face carefully for any change in expression. His eyes tightened the tiniest bit.
- •I shook my head. “You’re impossible.”
- •I jerked away from him.
- •I held up my injured hand.
- •I heard Charlie heave himself off of the sofa. Jacob got to the hall first, and much more quietly, but Charlie was not far behind him. Jacob’s expression was alert and eager.
- •I wasn’t listening.
- •I stared down blankly at my hands. My left hand rested lightly on the dark brace I rarely thought about. My broken knuckle didn’t hurt much anymore.
- •I stared, still frozen in horror, at Alice’s new expression. Her face was alive with exultation, all the despair wiped clean from her perfect features.
- •18. Instruction
- •I stared at Edward, my eyes stretched wide. “They’re coming as wolves?”
- •I squinted toward the forest, seeing nothing.
- •I watched with anxious eyes as he waved Alice forward.
- •I watched Alice more carefully now.
- •I grimaced, trying to ignore her.
- •I reached my hand out, my fingers trembling slightly, and touched the red-brown fur on the side of his face.
- •Inspiration came swiftly. “Angela and Ben,” I decided at once. “At least that will get them out of town.”
- •I stared at Edward as he explained, my forehead creasing. He patted my arm.
- •I swayed on my feet. Edward put his arm around my waist, pulling me closer and supporting my weight.
- •If this was the only reaction to Jacob’s gift, I would take it gladly. “Whatever makes you happy.”
- •I tried to smile back at Jacob, swallowing against the lump in my throat. I didn’t seem to get it right.
- •It was after dark when we reached the house. In spite of that, the meadow was bright in the light shining from every window.
- •I began to feel cautiously optimistic. Perhaps getting what I wanted would not be as difficult as I’d expected it to be.
- •I shook my head against his chest, grimacing. “You’re just trying to distract me. Let’s get back to the subject.”
- •I twisted my head to kiss the palm of his hand.
- •I glared. “That’s not what I meant. I already know how strong you are. You didn’t have to break the furniture.”
- •I was wrong.
- •I shook my head, and laughed glumly. “You make me feel like a villain in a melodrama — twirling my mustache while I try to steal some poor girl’s virtue.”
- •I glared at him through narrowed eyes.
- •I rolled my eyes. “Very mature, Edward.”
- •I looked at Edward, and he was smiling; whatever was bugging Alice amused him.
- •I turned to Alice, worried now, but she didn’t look at me. Her bad mood hadn’t passed yet.
- •I grimaced in horror as she grabbed my left hand and then dropped it just as quickly.
- •I watched him carefully as he cleaned the gash, looking for some sign of distress. He continued to breathe evenly in and out, the same small smile on his lips.
- •I rolled my eyes. “Same old, same old.”
- •I took a slow breath before I spoke. “No. I’m pretty sure it’s because you can’t talk.”
- •22. Fire and ice
- •I stared at him in outrage. No wonder Edward was reacting this way.
- •I was too far gone to ask them to stop talking about me like I wasn’t there. The conversation had taken on a dreamlike quality to me, and I wasn’t sure I was really awake.
- •It took Jacob a minute. “Oh. Ugh. The third wife. Okay, I see your point.”
- •It was quiet again, and the tent held still for a few minutes. The wind seemed to have decided that it wasn’t going to flatten us after all, and was giving up the fight.
- •I winced, wondering what might have come out of my mouth in my sleep. The possibilities were horrifying.
- •I elbowed Edward in the ribs — probably giving myself a bruise.
- •I stretched my neck up, straining to reach my lips to the edge of his jaw. I couldn’t see into his eyes. He was staring up at the ceiling of the tent.
- •It would be no more than I deserved if I somehow lost them both.
- •It was a moment before I could speak, and still the only answer I could give him was, “Please.”
- •It stunned me when Edward chuckled reluctantly.
- •I raised my head slowly to meet his patient gaze. His expression was soft; his eyes were full of understanding rather than the revulsion I deserved to see.
- •I closed my eyes and shook my head in agony. The sharp nylon fibers of the tent floor scraped against my skin.
- •It would be quick — she had no time for games here — but it would be thorough. Something that it would be impossible to recover from. Something that even vampire venom could not repair.
- •Victoria jerked her chin toward Edward, wordlessly ordering the boy forward.
- •Victoria’s gaze zeroed in on the gap between us. It would take her less than a second to kill me — she only needed the tiniest margin of opportunity.
- •Victoria kicked something aside with a flick of her bare foot — the missile that had crippled her attack. It rolled toward me, and I realized what it was.
- •Victoria did not even flinch to the sound of her name. Her eyes did not flicker once toward her partner.
- •I nodded, trying to hide the sudden terror — how much more could I handle before I collapsed? “No reason to be afraid. Got it.”
- •I already had my story memorized and corroborated. “I don’t care. I want to be there when Jacob wakes up.”
- •I took a deep breath to steady myself. Jacob had begun healing too quickly, and some of his bones had set wrong. He’d been out cold for the process, but it was still hard to think about.
- •I turned back to the fridge so that he couldn’t see my face.
- •I bent down to get a frying pan out of the cupboard, and hid there an extra second or two.
- •I winced, but Charlie was so caught up in his story that he didn’t notice.
- •I bit my lip. I was never going to get through this. Why didn’t anyone ever try to kill me when I wanted to die?
- •It took me a minute to even understand. He babbled on, looking more and more awkward, until I got what he was saying. Then I hurried to reassure him.
- •I winced and nodded. “I’m so sorry.”
- •I touched his face, laying my hand against his cheek. He exhaled at my touch and closed his eyes. It was very quiet. For a minute I could hear the beating of his heart, slow and even.
- •I knew what he meant. “After.”
- •I managed to convey, after several attempts, that it wasn’t going to get any better anytime soon. I needed to get past Charlie before it got late enough for him to call Billy.
- •I smiled just a bit at his correction, and then I sighed. “We are going to go see Alice.”
- •I shook my head.
- •I repeated for him the conversation I had with Charlie last night before I’d gone to see Jacob.
- •It would be wrong to strike back. I knew that. I was biting my tongue. But she’d be sorry if she didn’t walk away. Now.
I pulled away from him and ran to put the knife in the sink before I doused it with bleach.
“I didn’t stab him,” I explained as I worked. “He forgot he had a knife in his hand.”
Edward chuckled. “That’s not nearly as fun as the way I imagined it.”
“Be nice.”
He took a big envelope from his jacket pocket and tossed it on the counter. “I got your mail.”
“Anything good?”
“I think so.”
My eyes narrowed suspiciously at his tone. I went to investigate.
He’d folded the legal-sized envelope in half. I smoothed it open, surprised at the weight of the expensive paper, and read the return address.
“Dartmouth? Is this a joke?”
“I’m sure it’s an acceptance. It looks exactly like mine.”
“Good grief, Edward — what did you do?”
“I sent in your application, that’s all.”
“I may not be Dartmouth material, but I’m not stupid enough to believe that.”
“Dartmouth seems to think that you’re Dartmouth material.”
I took a deep breath and counted slowly to ten. “That’s very generous of them,” I finally said. “However, accepted or not, there is still the minor matter of tuition. I can’t afford it, and I’m not letting you throw away enough money to buy yourself another sports car just so that I can pretend to go to Dartmouth next year.”
“I don’t need another sports car. And you don’t have to pretend anything,” he murmured. “One year of college wouldn’t kill you. Maybe you’d even like it. Just think about it, Bella. Imagine how excited Charlie and Renйe would be. . . .”
His velvet voice painted the picture in my head before I could block it. Of course Charlie would explode with pride — no one in the town of Forks would be able to escape the fallout from his excitement. And Renйe would be hysterical with joy at my triumph — though she’d swear she wasn’t at all surprised. . . .
I tried to shake the image out of my head. “Edward. I’m worried about living through graduation, let alone this summer or next fall.”
His arms wrapped around me again. “No one is going to hurt you. You have all the time in the world.”
I sighed. “I’m mailing the contents of my bank account to Alaska tomorrow. It’s all the alibi I need. It’s far enough away that Charlie won’t expect a visit until Christmas at the earliest. And I’m sure I’ll think of some excuse by then. You know,” I teased halfheartedly, “this whole secrecy and deception thing is kind of a pain.”
Edward’s expression hardened. “It gets easier. After a few decades, everyone you know is dead. Problem solved.”
I flinched.
“Sorry, that was harsh.”
I stared down at the big white envelope, not seeing it. “But still true.”
“If I get this resolved, whatever it is we’re dealing with, will you please consider waiting?”
“Nope.”
“Always so stubborn.”
“Yep.”
The washing machine thumped and stuttered to a halt.
“Stupid piece of junk,” I muttered as I pulled away from him. I moved the one small towel that had unbalanced the otherwise empty machine, and started it again.
“This reminds me,” I said. “Could you ask Alice what she did with my stuff when she cleaned my room? I can’t find it anywhere.”
He looked at me with confused eyes. “Alice cleaned your room?”
“Yeah, I guess that’s what she was doing. When she came to get my pajamas and pillow and stuff to hold me hostage.” I glowered at him briefly. “She picked up everything that was lying around, my shirts, my socks, and I don’t know where she put them.”
Edward continued to look confused for one short moment, and then, abruptly, he was rigid.
“When did you notice your things were missing?”
“When I got back from the fake slumber party. Why?”
“I don’t think Alice took anything. Not your clothes, or your pillow. The things that were taken, these were things you’d worn . . . and touched . . . and slept on?”
“Yes. What is it, Edward?”
His expression was strained. “Things with your scent.”
“Oh!”
We stared into each others eyes for a long moment.
“My visitor,” I muttered.
“He was gathering traces . . . evidence. To prove that he’d found you?”
“Why?” I whispered.
“I don’t know. But, Bella, I swear I will find out. I will.”
“I know you will,” I said, laying my head against his chest. Leaning there, I felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.
He pulled out his phone and glanced at the number. “Just the person I need to talk to,” he murmured, and then he flipped it open. “Carlisle, I —” He broke off and listened, his face taut with concentration for a few minutes. “I’ll check it out. Listen . . .”
He explained about my missing things, but from the side I was hearing, it sounded like Carlisle had no insights for us.
“Maybe I’ll go . . . ,” Edward said, trailing off as his eyes drifted toward me. “Maybe not. Don’t let Emmett go alone, you know how he gets. At least ask Alice keep an eye on things. We’ll figure this out later.”
He snapped the phone shut. “Where’s the paper?” he asked me.
“Um, I’m not sure. Why?”
“I need to see something. Did Charlie already throw it out?”
“Maybe. . . .”
Edward disappeared.
He was back in half a second, new diamonds in his hair, a wet newspaper in his hands. He spread it out on the table, his eyes scanning quickly across the headlines. He leaned in, intent on something he was reading, one finger tracing passages that interested him most.
“Carlisle’s right . . . yes . . . very sloppy. Young and crazed? Or a death wish?” he muttered to himself.
I went to peek over his shoulder.
The headline of the Seattle Times read: “Murder Epidemic Continues — Police Have No New Leads.”
It was almost the same story Charlie had been complaining about a few weeks ago — the big-city violence that was pushing Seattle up the national murder hot-spot list. It wasn’t exactly the same story, though. The numbers were a lot higher.
“It’s getting worse,” I murmured.
He frowned. “Altogether out of control. This can’t be the work of just one newborn vampire. What’s going on? It’s as if they’ve never heard of the Volturi. Which is possible, I guess. No one has explained the rules to them . . . so who is creating them, then?”
“The Volturi?” I repeated, shuddering.
“This is exactly the kind of thing they routinely wipe out — immortals who threaten to expose us. They just cleaned up a mess like this a few years ago in Atlanta, and it hadn’t gotten nearly this bad. They will intervene soon, very soon, unless we can find some way to calm the situation. I’d really rather they didn’t come to Seattle just now. As long as they’re this close . . . they might decide to check on you.”