EVERYTHING WAS READY.
I was packed for my two-day visit with "Alice," and my bag waited for me on the passenger seat of my truck. I'd given the concert tickets to Angela, Ben, and Mike. Mike was going to take Jessica, which was exactly as I'd hoped. Billy had borrowed Old Quil Ateara's boat and invited Charlie down for some open sea fishing before the afternoon game started. Collin and Brady, the two youngest werewolves, were staying behind to protect La Push - though they were just children, both of them only thirteen. Still, Charlie would be safer than anyone left in Forks.
I had done all that I could do. I tried to accept that, and put the things that were outside of my control out of my head, for tonight at least. One way or another, this would all be over in forty-eight hours. The thought was almost comforting.
Edward had requested that I relax, and I was going to do my best.
"For this one night, could we try to forget everything besides just you and me?" he'd pleaded, unleashing the full force of his eyes on me. "It seems like I can never get enough time like that. I need to be with you. Just you."
That was not a hard request to agree to, though I knew that forgetting my fears would be much easier said than done. Other matters were on my mind now, knowing that we had this night to be alone, and that would help.
There were some things that had changed.
For instance, I was ready.
I was ready to join his family and his world. The fear and guilt and anguish I was feeling now had taught me that much. I'd had a chance to concentrate on this - as I'd gazed at the moon through the clouds and rested against a werewolf - and I knew I would not panic again. The next time something came at us, I would be ready. An asset, not a liability. He would never have to make the choice between me and his family again. We would be partners, like Alice and Jasper. Next time, I would do my part.
I would wait for the sword to be removed from over my head, so that Edward would be satisfied. But it wasn't necessary. I was ready.
There was only one missing piece.
One piece, because there were some things that had not changed, and that included the desperate way I loved him. I'd had plenty of time to think through the ramifications of Jasper and Emmett's bet - to figure out the things I was willing to lose with my humanity, and the part that I was not willing to give up. I knew which human experience I was going to insist on before I became inhuman.
So we had some things to work out tonight. After everything I'd seen in the past two years, I didn't believe in the word impossible anymore. It was going to take more than that to stop me now.
Okay, well, honestly, it was probably going to be much more complicated than that. But I was going to try.
As decided as I was, I wasn't surprised that I still felt nervous as I drove down the long path to his house - I didn't know how to do what I was trying to do, and that guaranteed me some serious jitters. He sat in the passenger seat, fighting a smile at my slow pace. I was surprised that he hadn't insisted on taking the wheel, but tonight he seemed content to go at my speed.
It was after dark when we reached the house. In spite of that, the meadow was bright in the light shining from every window.
As soon as I cut the engine he was at my door, opening it for me. He lifted me from the cab with one arm, slinging my bag out of the truck bed and over his shoulder with the other. His lips found mine as I heard him kick the truck's door shut behind me.
Without breaking the kiss, he swung me up so that I was cradled in his arms and carried me into the house.
Was the front door already open? I didn't know. We were inside, though, and I was dizzy. I had to remind myself to breathe.
This kissing did not frighten me. It wasn't like before when I could feel the fear and panic leaking through his control. His lips were not anxious, but enthusiastic now - he seemed as thrilled as I was that we had tonight to concentrate on being together. He continued to kiss me for several minutes, standing there in the entry; he seemed less guarded than usual, his mouth cold and urgent on mine.
I began to feel cautiously optimistic. Perhaps getting what I wanted would not be as difficult as I'd expected it to be.
No, of course it was going to be just exactly that difficult.
With a low chuckle, he pulled me away, holding me at arm's length.
"Welcome home," he said, his eyes liquid and warm.
"That sounds nice," I said, breathless.
He set me gently on my feet. I wrapped both my arms around him, refusing to allow any space between us.
"I have something for you," he said, his tone conversational.
"Oh?"
"Your hand-me-down, remember? You said that was allowable."
"Oh, that's right. I guess I did say that."
He chuckled at my reluctance.
"It's up in my room. Shall I go get it?"
His bedroom? "Sure," I agreed, feeling quite devious as I wound my fingers through his. "Let's go."
He must have been eager to give me my non-present, because human velocity was not fast enough for him. He scooped me up again and nearly flew up the stairs to his room. He set me down at the door, and darted into his closet.
He was back before I'd taken a step, but I ignored him and went to the huge gold bed, plopping down on the edge and then sliding to the center. I curled up in a ball, my arms wrapped around my knees.
"Okay," I grumbled. Now that I was where I wanted to be, I could afford a little reluctance. "Let me have it."
Edward laughed.
He climbed onto the bed to sit next to me, and my heart thumped unevenly. Hopefully he would write that off as some reaction to him giving me presents.
"A hand-me-down," he reminded me sternly. He pulled my left wrist away from my leg, and touched the silver bracelet for just a moment. Then he gave me my arm back.
I examined it cautiously. On the opposite side of the chain from the wolf, there now hung a brilliant heart- shaped crystal. It was cut in a million facets, so that even in the subdued light shining from the lamp, it sparkled. I inhaled in a low gasp.
"It was my mother's." He shrugged deprecatingly. "I inherited quite a few baubles like this. I've given some to Esme and Alice both. So, clearly, this is not a big deal in any way."
I smiled ruefully at his assurance.
"But I thought it was a good representation," he continued. "It's hard and cold." He laughed. "And it throws rainbows in the sunlight."
"You forgot the most important similarity," I murmured. "It's beautiful."
"My heart is just as silent," he mused. "And it, too, is yours."
I twisted my wrist so the heart would glimmer. "Thank you. For both."
"No, thank you. It's a relief to have you accept a gift so easily. Good practice for you, too." He grinned, flashing his teeth.
I leaned into him, ducking my head under his arm and cuddling into his side. It probably felt similar to snuggling with Michelangelo's David, except that this perfect marble creature wrapped his arms around me to pull me closer.
It seemed like a good place to start.
"Can we discuss something? I'd appreciate it if you could begin by being open-minded."
He hesitated for a moment. "I'll give it my best effort," he agreed, cautious now.
"I'm not breaking any rules here," I promised. "This is strictly about you and me." I cleared my throat. "So . . . I was impressed by how well we were able to compromise the other night. I was thinking I would like to apply the same principle to a different situation." I wondered why I was being so formal. Must be the nerves.
"What would you like to negotiate?" he asked, a smile in his voice.
I struggled, trying to find exactly the right words to open with.
"Listen to your heart fly," he murmured. "It's fluttering like a hummingbird's wings. Are you all right?"
"I'm great."
"Please go on then," he encouraged.
"Well, I guess, first, I wanted to talk to you about that whole ridiculous marriage condition thing."
"It's only ridiculous to you. What about it?"
"I was wondering . . . is that open to negotiation?"
Edward frowned, serious now. "I've already made the largest concession by far and away - I've agreed to take your life away against my better judgment. And that ought to entitle me to a few compromises on your part."
"No." I shook my head, focusing on keeping my face composed. "That part's a done deal. We're not discussing my . . . renovations right now. I want to hammer out some other details."
He looked at me suspiciously. "Which details do you mean exactly?"
I hesitated. "Let's clarify your prerequisites first."
"You know what I want."
"Matrimony." I made it sound like a dirty word.
"Yes." He smiled a wide smile. "To start with."
The shock spoiled my carefully composed expression. "There's more?"
"Well," he said, and his face was calculating. "If you're my wife, then what's mine is yours . . . like tuition money. So there would be no problem with Dartmouth."
"Anything else? While you're already being absurd?"
"I wouldn't mind some time."
"No. No time. That's a deal breaker right there."
He sighed longingly. "Just a year or two?"
I shook my head, my lips set in a stubborn frown. "Move along to the next one."
"That's it. Unless you'd like to talk cars . . ."
He grinned widely when I grimaced, then took my hand and began playing with my fingers.
"I didn't realize there was anything else you wanted besides being transformed into a monster yourself. I'm extremely curious." His voice was low and soft. The slight edge would have been hard to detect if I hadn't known it so well.
I paused, staring at his hand on mine. I still didn't know how to begin. I felt his eyes watching me and I was afraid to look up. The blood began to burn in my face.
His cool fingers brushed my cheek. "You're blushing?" he asked in surprise. I kept my eyes down.
"Please, Bella, the suspense is painful."
I bit my lip.
"Bella." His tone reproached me now, reminded me that it was hard for him when I kept my thoughts to myself.
"Well, I'm a little worried . . . about after," I admitted, finally looking at him.
I felt his body tense, but his voice was gentle and velvet. "What has you worried?"
"All of you just seem so convinced that the only thing I'm going to be interested in, afterward, is slaughtering everyone in town," I confessed, while he winced at my choice of words. "And I'm afraid I'll be so preoccupied with the mayhem that I won't be me anymore . . . and that I won't . . . I won't want you the same way I do now."
"Bella, that part doesn't last forever," he assured me.
He was missing the point.
"Edward," I said, nervous, staring at a freckle on my wrist. "There's something that I want to do before I'm not human anymore."
He waited for me to continue. I didn't. My face was all hot.
"Whatever you want," he encouraged, anxious and completely clueless.
"Do you promise?" I muttered, knowing my attempt to trap him with his words was not going to work, but unable to resist.
"Yes," he said. I looked up to see that his eyes were earnest and confused. "Tell me what you want, and you can have it."
I couldn't believe how awkward and idiotic I felt. I was too innocent - which was, of course, central to the discussion. I didn't have the faintest idea how to be seductive. I would just have to settle for flushed and self-conscious.
"You," I mumbled almost incoherently.
"I'm yours." He smiled, still oblivious, trying to hold my gaze as I looked away again.
I took a deep breath and shifted forward so that I was kneeling on the bed. Then I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.
He kissed me back, bewildered but willing. His lips were gentle against mine, and I could tell his mind was elsewhere - trying to figure out what was on my mind. I decided he needed a hint.
My hands were slightly shaky as I unlocked my arms from around his neck. My fingers slid down his neck to the collar of his shirt. The trembling didn't help as I tried to hurry to undo the buttons before he stopped me. His lips froze, and I could almost hear the click in his head as he put together my words and my actions.
He pushed me away at once, his face heavily disapproving.
"Be reasonable, Bella."
"You promised - whatever I wanted," I reminded him without hope.
"We're not having this discussion." He glared at me while he refastened the two buttons I'd managed to open.
My teeth clamped together.
"I say we are," I growled. I moved my hands to my blouse and yanked open the top button.
He grabbed my wrists and pinned them to my sides.
"I say we're not," he said flatly.
We glowered at each other.
"You wanted to know," I pointed out.
"I thought it would be something faintly realistic."
"So you can ask for any stupid, ridiculous thing you want - like getting married - but I'm not allowed to even discuss what I -"
While I was ranting, he pulled my hands together to restrain them in just one of his, and put his other hand over my mouth.
"No." His face was hard.
I took a deep breath to steady myself. And, as the anger began to fade, I felt something else.
It took me a minute to recognize why I was staring down again, the blush returning - why my stomach felt uneasy, why there was too much moisture in my eyes, why I suddenly wanted to run from the room.
Rejection washed through me, instinctive and strong.
I knew it was irrational. He'd been very clear on other occasions that my safety was the only factor. Yet I'd never made myself quite so vulnerable before. I scowled at the golden comforter that matched his eyes and tried to banish the reflex reaction that told me I was unwanted and unwantable.
Edward sighed. The hand over my mouth moved under my chin, and he pulled my face up until I had to look at him.
"What now?"
"Nothing," I mumbled.
He scrutinized my face for long moment while I tried unsuccessfully to twist away from his gaze. His brow furrowed, and his expression became horrified.
"Did I hurt your feelings?" he asked, shocked.
"No," I lied.
So quickly that I wasn't even sure how it happened, I was in his arms, my face cradled between his shoulder and his hand, while his thumb stroked reassuringly against my cheek.
"You know why I have to say no," he murmured. "You know that I want you, too."
"Do you?" I whispered, my voice full of doubt.
"Of course I do, you silly, beautiful, oversensitive girl." He laughed once, and then his voice was bleak. "Doesn't everyone? I feel like there's a line behind me, jockeying for position, waiting for me to make a big enough mistake. . . . You're too desirable for your own good."
"Who's being silly now?" I doubted if awkward, self-conscious, and inept added up to desirable in anyone's book.
"Do I have to send a petition around to get you to believe? Shall I tell you whose names would be on the top of the list? You know a few of them, but some might surprise you."
I shook my head against his chest, grimacing. "You're just trying to distract me. Let's get back to the subject."
He sighed.
"Tell me if I have anything wrong." I tried to sound detached. "Your demands are marriage" - I couldn't say the word without making a face - "paying my tuition, more time, and you wouldn't mind if myvehicle went a little faster." I raised my eyebrows. "Did I get everything? That's a hefty list."
"Only the first is a demand." He seemed to be having a hard time keeping a straight face. "The others are merely requests."
"And my lone, solitary little demand is -"
"Demand?" he interrupted, suddenly serious again.
"Yes, demand."
His eyes narrowed.
"Getting married is a stretch for me. I'm not giving in unless I get something in return."
He leaned down to whisper in my ear. "No," he murmured silkily. "It's not possible now. Later, when you're less breakable. Be patient, Bella."
I tried to keep my voice firm and reasonable. "But that's the problem. It won't be the same when I'm less breakable. I won't be the same! I don't know who I'll be then."
"You'll still be Bella," he promised.
I frowned. "If I'm so far gone that I'd want to kill Charlie - that I'd drink Jacob's blood or Angela's if I got the chance - how can that be true?"
"It will pass. And I doubt you'll want to drink the dog's blood." He pretended to shudder at the thought. "Even as a newborn, you'll have better taste than that."
I ignored his attempt to sidetrack me. "But that will always be what I want most, won't it?" I challenged. "Blood, blood, and more blood!"
"The fact that you are still alive is proof that that is not true," he pointed out.
"Over eighty years later," I reminded him. "What I meant was physically, though. Intellectually, I know I'll be able to be myself . . . after a while. But just purely physically - I will always be thirsty, more than anything else."
He didn't answer.
"So I will be different," I concluded unopposed. "Because right now, physically, there's nothing I want more than you. More than food or water or oxygen. Intellectually, I have my priorities in a slightly more sensible order. But physically . . ."
I twisted my head to kiss the palm of his hand.
He took a deep breath. I was surprised that it sounded a little unsteady.
"Bella, I could kill you," he whispered.
"I don't think you could."
Edward's eyes tightened. He lifted his hand from my face and reached quickly behind himself for something I couldn't see. There was a muffled snapping sound, and the bed quivered beneath us.
Something dark was in his hand; he held it up for my curious examination. It was a metal flower, one of the roses that adorned the wrought iron posts and canopy of his bed frame. His hand closed for a brief second, his fingers contracting gently, and then it opened again.
Without a word, he offered me the crushed, uneven lump of black metal. It was a cast of the inside of his hand, like a piece of play dough squeezed in a child's fist. A half-second passed, and the shape crumbled into black sand in his palm.
I glared. "That's not what I meant. I already know how strong you are. You didn't have to break the furniture."
"What did you mean then?" he asked in a dark voice, tossing the handful of iron sand to the corner of the room; it hit the wall with a sound like rain.
His eyes were intent on my face as I struggled to explain.