Chapter 10

I was a predator. She was my prey. There was nothing else in the whole worldbut that truth.

　　There was no room full of witnesses—they were already collateral damage in myhead. The mystery of her thoughts was forgotten. Her thoughts meant nothing, for shewould not go on thinking them much longer.

　　I was a vampire, and she had the sweetest blood I’d smelled in eighty years.

　　I hadn’t imagined such a scent could exist. If I’d known it did, I would have gonesearching for it long ago. I would have combed the planet for her. I could imagine thetaste…Thirst burned through my throat like fire. My mouth was baked and desiccated.

　　The fresh flow of venom did nothing to dispel that sensation. My stomach twisted withthe hunger that was an echo of the thirst. My muscles coiled to spring.

　　Not a full second had passed. She was still taking the same step that had put herdownwind from me.

　　As her foot touched the ground, her eyes slid toward me, a movement she clearlymeant to be stealthy. Her glance met mine, and I saw myself reflected in the wide mirrorof her eyes.

　　The shock of the face I saw there saved her life for a few thorny moments.

　　She didn’t make it easier. When she processed the expression on my face, bloodflooded her cheeks again, turning her skin the most delicious color I’d ever seen. Thescent was a thick haze in my brain. I could barely think through it. My thoughts raged,resisting control, incoherent.

　　She walked more quickly now, as if she understood the need to escape. Her hastemade her clumsy—she tripped and stumbled forward, almost falling into the girl seated infront of me. Vulnerable, weak. Even more than usual for a human.

　　I tried to focus on the face I’d seen in her eyes, a face I recognized with revulsion.

　　The face of the monster in me—the face I’d beaten back with decades of effort anduncompromising discipline. How easily it sprang to the surface now!

　　The scent swirled around me again, scattering my thoughts and nearly propellingme out of my seat.

　　No.

　　 My hand gripped under the edge of the table as I tried to hold myself in my chair.

　　The wood was not up to the task. My hand crushed through the strut and came away witha palmful of splintered pulp, leaving the shape of my fingers carved into the remainingwood.

　　Destroy evidence. That was a fundamental rule. I quickly pulverized the edges ofthe shape with my fingertips, leaving nothing but a ragged hole and a pile of shavings onthe floor, which I scattered with my foot.

　　Destroy evidence. Collateral damage….

　　I knew what had to happen now. The girl would have to come sit beside me, andI would have to kill her.

　　The innocent bystanders in this classroom, eighteen other children and one man,could not be allowed to leave this room, having seen what they would soon see.

　　I flinched at the thought of what I must do. Even at my very worst, I had nevercommitted this kind of atrocity. I had never killed innocents, not in over eight decades.

　　And now I planned to slaughter twenty of them at once.

　　The face of the monster in the mirror mocked me.

　　Even as part of me shuddered away from the monster, another part was planningit.

　　If I killed the girl first, I would have only fifteen or twenty seconds with herbefore the humans in the room would react. Maybe a little bit longer, if at first they didnot realize what I was doing. She would not have time to scream or feel pain; I wouldnot kill her cruelly. That much I could give this stranger with her horribly desirableblood.

　　But then I would have to stop them from escaping. I wouldn’t have to worryabout the windows, too high up and small to provide an escape for anyone. Just thedoor—block that and they were trapped.

　　It would be slower and more difficult, trying to take them all down when theywere panicked and scrambling, moving in chaos. Not impossible, but there would bemuch more noise. Time for lots of screaming. Someone would hear…and I’d be forcedto kill even more innocents in this black hour.

　　And her blood would cool, while I murdered the others.

　　 The scent punished me, closing my throat with dry aching…So the witnesses first then.

　　I mapped it out in my head. I was in the middle of the room, the furthest row inthe back. I would take my right side first. I could snap four or five of their necks persecond, I estimated. It would not be noisy. The right side would be the lucky side; theywould not see me coming. Moving around the front and back up the left side, it wouldtake me, at most, five seconds to end every life in this room.

　　Long enough for Bella Swan to see, briefly, what was coming for her. Longenough for her to feel fear. Long enough, maybe, if shock didn’t freeze her in place, forher to work up a scream. One soft scream that would not bring anyone running.

　　I took a deep breath, and the scent was a fire that raced through my dry veins,burning out from my chest to consume every better impulse that I was capable of.

　　She was just turning now. In a few seconds, she would sit down inches awayfrom me.

　　The monster in my head smiled in anticipation.

　　Someone slammed shut a folder on my left. I didn’t look up to see which of thedoomed humans it was. But the motion sent a wave of ordinary, unscented air waftingacross my face.

　　For one short second, I was able to think clearly. In that precious second, I sawtwo faces in my head, side by side.

　　One was mine, or rather had been: the red-eyed monster that had killed so manypeople that I’d stop counting their numbers. Rationalized, justified murders. A killer ofkillers, a killer of other, less powerful monsters. It was a god complex, I acknowledgedthat—deciding who deserved a death sentence. It was a compromise with myself. I hadfed on human blood, but only by the loosest definition. My victims were, in their variousdark pastimes, barely more human than I was.

　　The other face was Carlisle’s.

　　There was no resemblance between the two faces. They were bright day andblackest night.

　　There was no reason for there to be a resemblance. Carlisle was not my father inthe basic biological sense. We shared no common features. The similarity in our coloring was a product of what we were; every vampire had the same ice pale skin. Thesimilarity in the color of our eyes was another matter—a reflection of a mutual choice.

　　And yet, though there was no basis for a resemblance, I’d imagined that my facehad begun to reflect his, to an extent, in the last seventy-odd years that I had embracedhis choice and followed in his steps. My features had not changed, but it seemed to melike some of his wisdom had marked my expression, that a little of his compassion couldbe traced in the shape of my mouth, and hints of his patience were evident on my brow.

　　All those tiny improvements were lost in the face of the monster. In a fewmoments, there would be nothing left in me that would reflect the years I’d spent with mycreator, my mentor, my father in all the ways that counted. My eyes would glow red as adevil’s; all likeness would be lost forever.

　　In my head, Carlisle’s kind eyes did not judge me. I knew that he would forgiveme for this horrible act that I would do. Because he loved me. Because he thought I wasbetter than I was. And he would still love me, even as I now proved him wrong.

　　Bella Swan sat down in the chair next to me, her movements stiff and awkward—with fear?—and the scent of her blood bloomed in an inexorable cloud around me.

　　I would prove my father wrong about me. The misery of this fact hurt almost asmuch as the fire in my throat.

　　I leaned away from her in revulsion—revolted by the monster aching to take her.

　　Why did she have to come here? Why did she have to exist? Why did she haveto ruin the little peace I had in this non-life of mine? Why had this aggravating humanever been born? She would ruin me.

　　I turned my face away from her, as a sudden fierce, unreasoning hatred washedthrough me.

　　Who was this creature? Why me, why now? Why did I have to lose everythingjust because she happened to choose this unlikely town to appear in?

　　Why had she come here!

　　I didn’t want to be the monster! I didn’t want to kill this room full of harmlesschildren! I didn’t want to lose everything I’d gained in a lifetime of sacrifice and denial!

　　I wouldn’t. She couldn’t make me.

　　 The scent was the problem, the hideously appealing scent of her blood. If therewas only some way to resist…if only another gust of fresh air could clear my head.

　　Bella Swan shook out her long, thick, mahogany hair in my direction.

　　Was she insane? It was as if she were encouraging the monster! Taunting him.

　　There was no friendly breeze to blow the smell away from me now. All wouldsoon be lost.

　　No, there was no helpful breeze. But I didn’t have to breathe.

　　I stopped the flow of air through my lungs; the relief was instantaneous, butincomplete. I still had the memory of the scent in my head, the taste of it on the back ofmy tongue. I wouldn’t be able to resist even that for long. But perhaps I could resist foran hour. One hour. Just enough time to get out of this room full of victims, victims thatmaybe didn’t have to be victims. If I could resist for one short hour.

　　It was an uncomfortable feeling, not breathing. My body did not need oxygen,but it went against my instincts. I relied on scent more than my other senses in times ofstress. It led the way in the hunt, it was the first warning in case of danger. I did notoften came across something as dangerous as I was, but self-preservation was just asstrong in my kind as it was in the average human.

　　Uncomfortable, but manageable. More bearable than smelling her and notsinking my teeth through that fine, thin, see-through skin to the hot, wet, pulsing—An hour! Just one hour. I must not think of the scent, the taste.

　　The silent girl kept her hair between us, leaning forward so that it spilled acrossher folder. I couldn’t see her face, to try to read the emotions in her clear, deep eyes.

　　Was this why she’d let her tresses fan out between us? To hide those eyes from me? Outof fear? Shyness? To keep her secrets from me?

　　My former irritation at being stymied by her soundless thoughts was weak andpale in comparison to the need—and the hate—that possessed me now. For I hated thisfrail woman-child beside me, hated her with all the fervor with which I clung to myformer self, my love of my family, my dreams of being something better than what Iwas… Hating her, hating how she made me feel—it helped a little. Yes, the irritation I’dfelt before was weak, but it, too, helped a little. I clung to any emotion that distracted mefrom imagining what she would taste like… Hate and irritation. Impatience. Would the hour never pass?

　　And when the hour ended… Then she would walk out of this room. And I woulddo what?

　　I could introduce myself. Hello, my name is Edward Cullen. May I walk you toyour next class?

　　She would say yes. It would be the polite thing to do. Even already fearing me,as I suspected she did, she would follow convention and walk beside me. It should beeasy enough to lead her in the wrong direction. A spur of the forest reached out like afinger to touch the back corner of the parking lot. I could tell her I’d forgotten a book inmy car…Would anyone notice that I was the last person she’d been seen with? It wasraining, as usual; two dark raincoats heading the wrong direction wouldn’t pique toomuch interest, or give me away.

　　Except that I was not the only student who was aware of her today—though noone was as blisteringly aware as I was. Mike Newton, in particular, was conscious ofevery shift in her weight as she fidgeted in her chair—she was uncomfortable so close tome, just as anyone would be, just as I’d expected before her scent had destroyed allcharitable concern. Mike Newton would notice if she left the classroom with me.

　　If I could last an hour, could I last two?

　　I flinched at the pain of the burning.

　　She would go home to an empty house. Police Chief Swan worked a full day. Iknew his house, as I knew every house in the tiny town. His home was nestled right upagainst thick woods, with no close neighbors. Even if she had time to scream, which shewould not, there would be no one to hear.

　　That would be the responsible way to deal with this. I’d gone seven decadeswithout human blood. If I held my breath, I could last two hours. And when I had heralone, there would be no chance of anyone else getting hurt. And no reason to rushthrough the experience, the monster in my head agreed.

　　It was sophistry to think that by saving the nineteen humans in this room witheffort and patience, I would be less a monster when I killed this innocent girl.

　　 Though I hated her, I knew my hatred was unjust. I knew that what I really hatedwas myself. And I would hate us both so much more when she was dead.

　　I made it through the hour in this way—imagining the best ways to kill her. Itried to avoid imagining the actual act. That might be too much for me; I might lose thisbattle and end up killing everyone in sight. So I planned strategy, and nothing more. Itcarried me through the hour.

　　Once, toward the very end, she peeked up at me through the fluid wall of her hair.

　　I could feel the unjustified hatred burning out of me as I met her gaze—see the reflectionof it in her frightened eyes. Blood painted her cheek before she could hide in her hairagain, and I was nearly undone.

　　But the bell rang. Saved by the bell—how cliché. We were both saved. She,saved from death. I, saved for just a short time from being the nightmarish creature Ifeared and loathed.

　　I couldn’t walk as slowly as I should as I darted from the room. If anyone hadbeen looking at me, they might have suspected that there was something not right aboutthe way I moved. No one was paying attention to me. All human thoughts still swirledaround the girl who was condemned to die in little more than an hour’s time.

　　I hid in my car.

　　I didn’t like to think of myself having to hide. How cowardly that sounded. Butit was unquestionably the case now.

　　I didn’t have enough discipline left to be around humans now. Focusing so muchof my efforts on not killing one of them left me no resources to resist the others. What awaste that would be. If I were to give in to the monster, I might as well make it worth thedefeat.

　　I played a CD of music that usually calmed me, but it did little for me now. No,what helped most now was the cool, wet, clean air that drifted with the light rain throughmy open windows. Though I could remember the scent of Bella Swan’s blood withperfect clarity, inhaling the clean air was like washing out the inside of my body from itsinfection.

　　I was sane again. I could think again. And I could fight again. I could fightagainst what I didn’t want to be.

　　 I didn’t have to go to her home. I didn’t have to kill her. Obviously, I was arational, thinking creature, and I had a choice. There was always a choice.

　　It hadn’t felt that way in the classroom…but I was away from her now. Perhaps,if I avoided her very, very carefully, there was no need for my life to change. I hadthings ordered the way I liked them now. Why should I let some aggravating anddelicious nobody ruin that?

　　I didn’t have to disappoint my father. I didn’t have to cause my mother stress,worry…pain. Yes, it would hurt my adopted mother, too. And Esme was so gentle, sotender and soft. Causing someone like Esme pain was truly inexcusable.

　　How ironic that I’d wanted to protect this human girl from the paltry, toothlessthreat of Jessica Stanley’s snide thoughts. I was the last person who would ever stand asa protector for Isabella Swan. She would never need protection from anything more thanshe needed it from me.

　　Where was Alice, I suddenly wondered? Hadn’t she seen me killing the Swangirl in a multitude of ways? Why hadn’t she come to help—to stop me or help me cleanup the evidence, whichever? Was she so absorbed with watching for trouble with Jasperthat she’d missed this much more horrific possibility? Was I stronger than I thought?

　　Would I really not have done anything to the girl?

　　No. I knew that wasn’t true. Alice must be concentrating on Jasper very hard.

　　I searched in the direction I knew she would be, in the small building used forEnglish classes. It did not take me long to locate her familiar ‘voice.’ And I was right.

　　Her every thought was turned to Jasper, watching his small choices with minute scrutiny.

　　I wished I could ask her advice, but at the same time, I was glad she didn’t knowwhat I was capable of. That she was unaware of the massacre I had considered in the lasthour.

　　I felt a new burn through my body—the burn of shame. I didn’t want any of themto know.

　　If I could avoid Bella Swan, if I could manage not to kill her—even as I thoughtthat, the monster writhed and gnashed his teeth in frustration—then no one would have toknow. If I could keep away from her scent… There was no reason why I shouldn’t try, at least. Make a good choice. Try to bewhat Carlisle thought I was.

　　The last hour of school was almost over. I decided to put my new plan into actionat once. Better than sitting here in the parking lot where she might pass me and ruin myattempt. Again, I felt the unjust hatred for the girl. I hated that she had this unconsciouspower over me. That she could make me be something I reviled.

　　I walked swiftly—a little too swiftly, but there were no witnesses—across the tinycampus to the office. There was no reason for Bella Swan to cross paths with me. Shewould be avoided like the plague she was.

　　The office was empty except for the secretary, the one I wanted to see.

　　She didn’t notice my silent entrance.

　　“Mrs. Cope?”

　　The woman with the unnaturally red hair looked up and her eyes widened. Italways caught them off guard, the little markers they didn’t understand, no matter howmany times they’d seen one of us before.

　　“Oh,” she gasped, a little flustered. She smoothed her shirt. Silly, she thought toherself. He’s almost young enough to be my son. Too young to think of that way…“Hello, Edward. What can I do for you?” Her eyelashes fluttered behind her thickglasses.

　　Uncomfortable. But I knew how to be charming when I wanted to be. It waseasy, since I was able to know instantly how any tone or gesture was taken.

　　I leaned forward, meeting her gaze as if I were staring deeply into her depthless,small brown eyes. Her thoughts were already in a flutter. This should be simple.

　　“I was wondering if you could help me with my schedule,” I said in the soft voiceI reserved for not scaring humans.

　　I heard the tempo of her heart increase.

　　“Of course, Edward. How can I help?” Too young, too young, she chanted toherself. Wrong, of course. I was older than her grandfather. But according to mydriver’s license, she was right.

　　“I was wondering if I could move from my biology class to a senior level science?

　　Physics, perhaps?”

　　 “It there a problem with Mr. Banner, Edward?”

　　“Not at all, it’s just that I’ve already studied this material…”

　　“In that accelerated school you all went to in Alaska, right.” Her thin lips pursedas she considered this. They should all be in college. I’ve heard the teachers complain.

　　Perfect four point ohs, never a hesitation with a response, never a wrong answer on atest—like they’ve found some way to cheat in every subject. Mr. Varner would ratherbelieve that anyone was cheating than think a student was smarter than him… I’ll bettheir mother tutors them… “Actually, Edward, physics is pretty much full right now.

　　Mr. Banner hates to have more than twenty-five students in a class—”

　　“I wouldn’t be any trouble.”

　　Of course not. Not a perfect Cullen. “I know that, Edward. But there just aren’tenough seats as it is…”

　　“Could I drop the class, then? I could use the period for independent study.”

　　“Drop biology?” He mouth fell open. That’s crazy. How hard is it to sit througha subject you already know? There must be a problem with Mr. Banner. I wonder if Ishould talk to Bob about it? “You won’t have enough credits to graduate.”

　　“I’ll catch up next year.”

　　“Maybe you should talk to your parents about that.”

　　The door opened behind me, but who ever it was did not think of me, so I ignoredthe arrival and concentrated on Mrs. Cope. I leaned slightly closer, and held my eyes alittle wider. This would work better if they were gold instead of black. The blacknessfrightened people, as it should.

　　“Please, Mrs. Cope?” I made my voice as smooth and compelling as it could be—and it could be considerably compelling. “Isn’t there some other section I could switchto? I’m sure there has to be an open slot somewhere? Sixth hour biology can’t be theonly option…”

　　I smiled at her, careful not to flash my teeth so widely that it would scare her,letting the expression soften my face.

　　Her heart drummed faster. Too young, she reminded herself frantically. “Well,maybe I could talk to Bob—I mean Mr. Banner. I could see if—”

　　 A second was all it took to change everything: the atmosphere in the room, mymission here, the reason I leaned toward the red-haired woman… What had been for onepurpose before was now for another.

　　A second was all it took for Samantha Wells to open the door and place a signedtardy slip in the basket by the door, and hurry out again, in a rush to be away from school.

　　A second was all it took for the sudden gust of wind through the open door to crash intome. A second was all it took for me to realize why that first person through the door hadnot interrupted me with her thoughts.

　　I turned, though I did not need to make sure. I turned slowly, fighting to controlthe muscles that rebelled against me.

　　Bella Swan stood with her back pressed to the wall beside the door, a piece ofpaper clutched in her hands. Her eyes were even wider than usual as she took in myferocious, inhuman glare.

　　The smell of her blood saturated every particle of air in the tiny, hot room. Mythroat burst into flames.

　　The monster glared back at me from the mirror of her eyes again, a mask of evil.

　　My hand hesitated in the air above the counter. I would not have to look back inorder to reach across it and slam Mrs. Cope’s head into her desk with enough force to killher. Two lives, rather than twenty. A trade.

　　The monster waited anxiously, hungrily, for me to do it.

　　But there was always a choice—there had to be.

　　I cut off the motion of my lungs, and fixed Carlisle’s face in front of my eyes. Iturned back to face Mrs. Cope, and heard her internal surprise at the change in myexpression. She shrank away from me, but her fear did not form into coherent words.

　　Using all the control I’d mastered in my decades of self-denial, I made my voiceeven and smooth. There was just enough air left in my lungs to speak once more, rushingthrough the words.

　　“Nevermind, then. I can see that it’s impossible. Thank you so much for yourhelp.”

　　I spun and launched myself from the room, trying not to feel the warm-bloodedheat of the girl’s body as I passed within inches of it.

　　 I didn’t stop until I was in my car, moving too fast the entire way there. Most ofthe humans had cleared out already, so there weren’t a lot of witnesses. I heard asophomore, D.J. Garrett, notice, and then disregard…Where did Cullen come from—it was like he just came out of thin air… There Igo, with the imagination again. Mom always says…When I slid into my Volvo, the others were already there. I tried to control mybreathing, but I was gasping at the fresh air like I’d been suffocated.

　　“Edward?” Alice asked, alarm in her voice.

　　I just shook my head at her.

　　“What the hell happened to you?” Emmett demanded, distracted, for the moment,from the fact that Jasper was not in the mood for his rematch.

　　Instead of answering, I threw the car into reverse. I had to get out of this lotbefore Bella Swan could follow me here, too. My own person demon, haunting me… Iswung the car around and accelerated. I hit forty before I was on the road. On the road, Ihit seventy before I made the corner.

　　Without looking, I knew that Emmett, Rosalie and Jasper had all turned to stare atAlice. She shrugged. She couldn’t see what had passed, only what was coming.

　　She looked ahead for me now. We both processed what she saw in her head, andwe were both surprised.

　　“You’re leaving?” she whispered.

　　The others stared at me now.

　　“Am I?” I hissed through my teeth.

　　She saw it then, as my resolve wavered and another choice spun my future in adarker direction.

　　“Oh.”

　　Bella Swan, dead. My eyes, glowing crimson with fresh blood. The search thatwould follow. The careful time we would wait before it was safe for us to pull out andstart again…“Oh,” she said again. The picture grew more specific. I saw the inside of ChiefSwan’s house for the first time, saw Bella in a small kitchen with the yellow cupboards,her back to me as I stalked her from the shadows…let the scent pull me toward her… “Stop!” I groaned, not able to bear more.

　　“Sorry,” she whispered, her eyes wide.

　　The monster rejoiced.

　　And the vision in her head shifted again. An empty highway at night, the treesbeside it coated in snow, flashing by at almost two hundred miles per hour.

　　“I’ll miss you,” she said. “No matter how short a time you’re gone.”

　　Emmett and Rosalie exchanged an apprehensive glance.

　　We were almost to the turn off onto the long drive that led to our home.

　　“Drop us here,” Alice instructed. “You should tell Carlisle yourself.”

　　I nodded, and the car squealed to a sudden stop.

　　Emmett, Rosalie and Jasper got out in silence; they would make Alice explainwhen I was gone. Alice touched my shoulder.

　　“You will do the right thing,” she murmured. Not a vision this time—an order.

　　“She’s Charlie Swan’s only family. It would kill him, too.”

　　“Yes,” I said, agreeing only with the last part.

　　She slid out to join the others, her eyebrows pulling together in anxiety. Theymelted into woods, out of sight before I could turn the car around.

　　I accelerated back toward town, and I knew the visions in Alice’s head would beflashing from dark to bright like a strobe light. As I sped back to Forks doing ninety, Iwasn’t sure where I was going. To say goodbye to my father? Or to embrace themonster inside me? The road flew away beneath my tires.