I took the pills he handed me without arguing—I knew I would lose the argument And my arm really was starting to bother me.
My lullaby continued, soft and lovely, in the background.
'It's late,' Edward noted. He scooped me up off the bed with one arm, and pulled the cover back with the other. He put me down with my head on my pillow and tucked the quilt around me. He lay down next to me—on top of the blanket so I wouldn't get chilled—and put his arm over me.
I leaned my head against his shoulder and sighed happily.
'Thanks again,' I whispered.
'You're welcome.'
It was quiet for a long moment as I listened to my lullaby drift to a close. Another song began. I recognized Esme's favorite.
'What are you thinking about?'' I wondered in a whisper.
He hesitated for a second before he told me. 'I was thinking about right and wrong, actually.'
I felt a chill tingle along my spine.
'Remember how I decided that I wanted you to
'Yes,' he agreed, wary.
'Well, I was thinking, since it's still my birthday, that I'd like you to kiss me again.'
'You're greedy tonight.'
'Yes, I am—but please, don't do anything you don't want to do,' I added, piqued.
He laughed, and then sighed. 'Heaven forbid that I should do anything I don't want to do,' he said in a strangely desperate tone as he put his hand under my chin and pulled my face up to his.
The kiss began much the same as usual—Edward was as careful as ever, and my heart began to overreact like it always did. And then something seemed to change. Suddenly his lips became much more urgent, his free hand twisted into my hair and held my face securely to his. And, though my hands tangled in his hair, too, and though I was clearly beginning to cross his cautious lines, for once he didn't stop me. His body was cold through the thin quilt, but I crushed myself against him eagerly.
When he stopped it was abrupt; he pushed me away with gentle, firm hands.
I collapsed back onto my pillow, gasping, my head spinning. Something tugged at my memory, elusive, on the edges.
'Sorry,' he said, and he was breathless, too. 'That was out of line.'
'
He frowned at me in the darkness. 'Try to sleep. Bella.'
'No, I want you to kiss me again.'
'You're overestimating my self-control.'
'Which is tempting you more, my blood or my body?' I challenged.
'It's a tie.' He grinned briefly in spite of himself, and then was serious again. 'Now. why don't you stop pushing your luck and go to sleep?'
'Fine,' I agreed, snuggling closer to him. I really did feel exhausted. It had been a long day in so many ways, yet I felt no sense of relief at its end. Almost as if something worse was coming tomorrow. It was a silly premonition—what could be worse than today?' Just the shock catching up with me, no doubt.
Trying to be sneaky about it, I pressed my injured arm against his shoulder, so his cool skin would sooth the burning. It felt better at once.
I was halfway asleep, maybe more, when I realized what his kiss had reminded me of: last spring, when he'd had to leave me to throw James off my trail, Edward had kissed me goodbye, not knowing when—or if—we would see each other again. This kiss had the same almost painful edge for some reason I couldn't imagine. I shuddered into unconsciousness, as if I were already having a nightmare.
3 THE END
I FELT ABSOLUTELY HIDEOUS IN THE MORNING. I HADN'T slept well; my arm burned and my head ached. It didn't help my outlook that Edward's face was smooth and remote as he kissed my forehead quickly and ducked out my window. I was afraid of the time I'd spent unconscious, afraid that he might have been thinking about right and wrong again while he watched me sleep. The anxiety seemed to ratchet up the intensity of the pounding in my head.
Edward was waiting for me at school, as usual, but his face was still wrong. There was something buried in his eyes that I couldn't be sure of—and it scared me. I didn't want to bring up last night, but I wasn't sure if avoiding the subject would be worse.
He opened my door for me.
'How do you feel?'
'Perfect,' I lied, cringing as the sound of the slamming door echoed in my head.
We walked in silence, he shortening his stride to match mine. There were so many questions I wanted to ask, but most of those questions would have to wait, because chey were for Alice: How was Jasper this morning? What had they said when I was gone? What had Rosalie said? And most importantly, what could she see happening now in her strange, imperfect visions of the future? Could she guess what Edward was thinking, why he was so gloomy? Was there a foundation for the tenuous, instinctive fears that I couldn't seem to shake?
The morning passed slowly. I was impatient to see Alice, though I wouldn't be able to really talk to her with Edward there. Edward remained aloof. Occasionally he would ask about my arm, and I would lie.
Alice usually beat us to lunch; she didn't have to keep pace with a sloth like me. But she wasn't at the table, waiting with a tray of food she wouldn't eat.
Edward didn't say anything about her absence. I wondered to myself if her class was running late—until I saw Conner and Ben, who were in her fourth hour French class.
'Where's Alice?' I asked Edward anxiously.
He looked at the granola bar he was slowly pulverizing between his fingertips while he answered. 'She's with Jasper.'
'Is he okay?'
'He's gone away for a while.'
'What? Where?'
Edward shrugged. 'Nowhere in particular.'
'And Alice, too,' I said with quiet desperation. Of course, if Jasper needed her, she would go.
'Yes. She'll be gone for a while. She was trying to convince him to go to Denali.'
Denali was where the one other band of unique vampires—good ones like the Cullens—lived. Tanya and her family. I'd heard of them now and again. Edward had run to them last winter when my arrival had made Forks difficult for him. Laurent, the most civilized member of James's little coven, had gone there rather than siding with James against the Cullens. It made sense for Alice to encourage Jasper to go there.
I swallowed, trying to dislodge the sudden lump in my throat. The guilt made my head bow and my shoulders slump. I'd run them out of their home, just like Rosalie and Emmett. I was a plague.
'Is your arm bothering you?' he asked solicitously.
'Who cares about my stupid arm?' I muttered in disgust.
He didn't answer, and I put my head down on the table.
By the end of the day, the silence was becoming ridiculous. I didn't want to be the one to break it, but apparently that was my only choice if I ever wanted him to talk to me again.
'You'll come over later tonight?' I asked as he walked me—silently—to my truck. He always came over.
'Later?'
It pleased me that he seemed surprised. 'I have to work. I had to trade with Mrs. Newton to get yesterday off.'
'Oh,' he murmured.
