CNN broke the story first.
I was glad it hit the news before I had to leave for school, anxious to hear how thehumans would phrase the account, and what amount of attention it would garner.
Luckily, it was a heavy news day. There was an earthquake in South America and apolitical kidnapping in the Middle East. So it ended up only earning a few seconds,
a fewsentences, and one grainy picture.
“Alonzo Calderas Wallace, suspected serial rapist and murderer wanted in thestates of Texas and Oklahoma, was apprehended last night in Portland, Oregon thanks
toan anonymous tip. Wallace was found unconscious in an alley early this morning, just afew yards from a police station. Officials are unable to tell us at this time
whether he willbe extradited to Houston or Oklahoma City to stand trial.”
The picture was unclear, a mug shot, and he’d had a thick beard at the time of thephotograph. Even if Bella saw it, she would probably not recognize him. I hoped
shewouldn’t; it would make her afraid needlessly.
“The coverage here in town will be light. It’s too far away to be considered oflocal interest,” Alice told me. “It was a good call to have Carlisle take him out
of state.”
I nodded. Bella didn’t watch much TV regardless, and I’d never seen her fatherwatching anything besides sports channels.
I’d done what I could. This monster no longer hunted, and I was not a murderer.
Not recently, anyway. I’d been right to trust Carlisle, as much as I still wished themonster had not gotten off quite so easily. I caught myself hoping he would be
extraditedto Texas, where the death penalty was so popular…No. That didn’t matter. I would put this behind me, and concentrate on what wasmost important.
I’d left Bella’s room less than an hour ago. I was already aching to see her again.
“Alice, do you mind—”
She cut me off. “Rosalie will drive. She’ll act pissed, but you know she’ll enjoythe excuse to show off her car.” Alice trilled a laugh.
I grinned at her. “See you at school.”
Alice sighed, and my grin became a grimace.
I know, I know, she thought. Not yet. I’ll wait until you’re ready for Bella toknow me. You should know, though, this isn’t just me being selfish. Bella’s going
to likeme, too.
I didn’t answer her as I hurried out the door. That was a different way of viewingthe situation. Would Bella want to know Alice? To have a vampire for a
girlfriend?
Knowing Bella…that idea probably wouldn’t bother her in the slightest.
I frowned to myself. What Bella wanted and what was best for Bella were twovery separate things.
I started to feel uneasy as I parked my car in Bella’s driveway. The human adagesaid that things looked different in the morning—that things changed when you
slept onthem. Would I look different to Bella in the weak light of a foggy day? More sinister orless sinister than I had in the blackness of night? Had the truth sunk
in while she slept?
Would she finally be afraid?
Her dreams had been peaceful, though, last night. When she’d spoken my name,time and time again, she’d smiled. More than once she’d murmured a plea for me to
stay.
Would that mean nothing today?
I waited nervously, listening to the sounds of her inside the house—the fast,stumbling footsteps on the stairs, the sharp rip of a foil wrapper, the contents of
therefrigerator crashing against each other when the door slammed. It sounded like she wasin a hurry. Anxious to get to school? The thought made me smile, hopeful
again.
I looked at the clock. I supposed that—taking in account the velocity her decrepittruck must limit her to—she was running a little late.
Bella rushed out of the house, her book bag sliding off her shoulder, her haircoiled into a messy twist that was already coming apart on the nape of her neck.
Thethick green sweater she wore was not enough to keep her thin shoulders from hunchingagainst the cold fog.
The long sweater was too big for her, unflattering. It masked her slender figure,turning all her delicate curves and soft lines into a shapeless jumble. I
appreciated thisalmost as much as I wished that she had worn something more like the soft blue blouse she’d worn last night…the fabric had clung to her skin in such
an appealing way, cut lowenough to reveal the mesmerizing way her collar bones curled away from the hollowbeneath her throat. The blue had flowed like water along the
subtle shape of her body…It was better—essential—that I kept my thoughts far, far away from that shape, soI was grateful to the unbecoming sweater she wore. I couldn
’t afford to make mistakes,and it would be a monumental mistake to dwell on the strange hungers that thoughts ofher lips…her skin…her body…were shaking loose inside
of me. Hungers that hadevaded me for a hundred years. But I could not allow myself to think of touching her,because that was impossible.
I would break her.
Bella turned away from the door, in such a hurry that she nearly ran right by mycar without noticing it.
Then she skidded to a stop, her knees locking like a startled colt’s. Her bag slidfurther down her arm, and her eyes flew wide as they focused on the car.
I got out, taking no care to move at human speed, and opened the passenger doorfor her. I would not try to deceive her anymore—when we were alone, at least, I
wouldbe myself.
She looked up at me, startled again as I seemingly materialized out of the fog.
And then the surprise in her eyes changed to something else, and I was no longer afraid—or hopeful—that her feelings for me had changed in the course of the
night. Warmth,wonder, fascination, all swimming in the melted chocolate of her eyes.
“Do you want to ride with me today?” I asked. Unlike dinner last night, I wouldlet her choose. From now on, it must always be her choice.
“Yes, thank you,” she murmured, climbing into my car without hesitation.
Would it ever cease to thrill me, that I was the one she was saying yes to? Idoubted it.
I flashed around the car, eager to join her. She showed no sign of being shockedby my sudden reappearance.
The happiness I felt when she sat beside me this way had no precedent. As muchas I enjoyed the love and companionship of my family, despite the various
entertainmentsand distractions the world had to offer, I had never been happy like this. Even knowing that it was wrong, that this couldn’t possibly end well, could
not keep the smile from myface for long.
My jacket was folded over the headrest of her seat. I saw her eyeing it.
“I brought the jacket for you,” I told her. This was my excuse, had I needed toprovide one, for showing up uninvited this morning. It was cold. She had no jacket.
Surely this was an acceptable form of chivalry. “I didn’t want you to get sick orsomething.”
“I’m not quite that delicate,” she said, staring at my chest rather than my face, asif she were hesitant to meet my eyes. But she put the coat on before I had to
resort tocommanding or coaxing.
“Aren’t you?” I muttered to myself.
She stared out at the road as I accelerated toward the school. I could only standthe silence for a few seconds. I had to know what her thoughts were this morning.
Somuch had changed between us since the last time the sun was up.
“What, no twenty questions today?” I asked, keeping it light again.
She smiled, seeming glad that I’d broached the subject. “Do my questions botheryou?”
“Not as much as your reactions do,” I told her honestly, smiling in response to hersmile.
Her mouth turned down. “Do I react badly?”
“No, that’s the problem. You take everything so coolly—it’s unnatural.” Not onescream so far. How could that be? “It makes me wonder what you’re really
thinking.”
Of course, everything she did or didn’t do made me wonder that.
“I always tell you what I’m really thinking.”
“You edit.”
Her teeth pressed into her lip again. She didn’t seem to notice when she didthis—it was an unconscious response to tension. “Not very much.”
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