Twilight 3 - Eclipse | Page 8

I could put off visits with excuses about travel expenses or study loads
or illnesses, Jacob would know the truth.
For a moment, the idea of Jacob’s certain revulsion overshadowed every other pain.
“Bella,” Edward murmured, his face twisting when he read the distress in mine. “There’s no hurry. I
won’t let anyone hurt you. You can take all the time you need.”
“I want to hurry,” I whispered, smiling weakly, trying to make a joke of it. “I want to be a monster, too.”
His teeth clenched; he spoke through them. “You have no idea what you’re saying.” Abruptly, he flung
the damp newspaper onto the table in between us. His finger stabbed the headline on the front page:
DEATH TOLL ON THE RISE, POLICE FEAR GANG ACTIVITY
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Monsters are not a joke, Bella.”
I stared at the headline again, and then up to his hard expression. “A . . . avampire is doing this?” I
whispered.
He smiled without humor. His voice was low and cold. “You’d be surprised, Bella, at how often my
kind are the source behind the horrors in your human news. It’s easy to recognize, when you know what
to look for. The information here indicates a newborn vampire is loose in Seattle. Bloodthirsty, wild, out
of control. The way we all were.”
I let my gaze drop to the paper again, avoiding his eyes.
“We’ve been monitoring the situation for a few weeks. All the signs are there — the unlikely
disappearances, always in the night, the poorly disposed-of corpses, the lack of other evidence. . . . Yes,
someone brand-new. And no one seems to be taking responsibility for the neophyte. . . .” He took a
deep breath. “Well, it’s not our problem. We wouldn’t even pay attention to the situation if wasn’t going
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on so close to home. Like I said, this happens all the time. The existence of monsters results in monstrous
consequences.”
I tried not to see the names on the page, but they jumped out from the rest of the print like they were in
bold. The five people whose lives were over, whose families were mourning now. It was different from
considering murder in the abstract, reading those names. Maureen Gardiner, Geoffrey Campbell, Grace
Razi, Michelle O’Connell, Ronald Albrook. People who’d had parents and children and friends and pets
and jobs and hopes and plans and memories and futures. . . .
“It won’t be the same for me,” I whispered, half to myself. “You won’t let me be like that. We’ll live in
Antarctica.”
Edward snorted, breaking the tension. “Penguins. Lovely.”
I laughed a shaky laugh and knocked the paper off the table so I wouldn’t have to see those names; it hit
the linoleum with a thud. Of course Edward would consider the hunting possibilities. He and his
“vegetarian” family — all committed to protecting human life — preferred the flavor of large predators
for satisfying their dietary needs. “Alaska, then, as planned. Only somewhere much more remote than
Juneau — somewhere with grizzlies galore.”
“Better,” he allowed. “There are polar bears, too. Very fierce. And the wolves get quite large.”
My mouth fell open and my breath blew out in a sharp gust.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. Before I could recover, the confusion vanished and his whole body seemed
to harden. “Oh. Never mind the wolves, then, if the idea is offensive to you.” His voice was stiff, formal,
his shoulders rigid.
“He was my best friend, Edward,” I muttered. It stung to use the past tense. “Of course the idea offends
me.”
“Please forgive my thoughtlessness,” he said, still very formal. “I shouldn’t have suggested that.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I stared at my hands, clenched into a double fist on the table.
We were both silent for a moment, and then his cool finger was under my chin, coaxing my face up. His
expression was much softer now.
“Sorry. Really.”
“I know. I know it’s not the same thing. I shouldn’t have reacted that way. It’s just that . . . well, I was
already thinking about Jacob before you came over.” I hesitated. His tawny eyes seemed to get a little bit
darker whenever I said Jacob’s name. My voice turned pleading in response. “Charlie says Jake is
having a hard time. He’s hurting right now, and . . . it’s my fault.”
“You’ve done nothing wrong, Bella.”
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 —”
His face changed while I spoke, turning hard again, statue-like.
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“You know it’s out of the question for you to be around a werewolf unprotected, Bella. And it would
break the treaty if any of us cross over onto