"Really?" I was intrigued, rather than frightened, as I perhaps should have been.
He could tell. I vaguely realized that we were headed up the next flight of stairs, but I wasn't paying much attention to my surroundings.
"That doesn't repulse you?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I guess... it sounds reasonable."
He barked a laugh, more loudly than before. We were at the top of the stairs now, in another paneled hallway.
"From the time of my new birth," he murmured, "I had the advantage of knowing what everyone around me was thinking, both human and non-human alike. That's why it took me ten years to defy Carlisle - I could read his perfect sincerity, understand exactly why he lived the way he did.
"It took me only a few years to return to Carlisle and recommit to his vision. I thought I would be exempt from the... depression... that accompanies a conscience. Because I knew the thoughts of my prey, I could pass over the innocent and pursue only the evil. If I followed a murderer down a dark alley where he stalked a young girl - if I saved her, then surely I wasn't so terrible."
I shivered, imagining only too clearly what he described - the alley at night, the frightened girl, the dark man behind her. And Edward, Edward as he hunted, terrible and glorious as a young god, unstoppable. Would she have been grateful, that girl, or more frightened than before?
"But as time went on, I began to see the monster in my eyes. I couldn't escape the debt of so much human life taken, no matter how justified. And I went back to Carlisle and Esme. They welcomed me back like the prodigal. It was more than I deserved."
We'd come to a stop in front of the last door in the hall.
"My room," he informed me, opening it and pulling me through.
His room faced south, with a wall-sized window like the great room below. The whole back side of the house must be glass. His view looked down on the winding Sol Duc River, across the untouched forest to the Olympic Mountain range. The mountains were much closer than I would have believed.
The western wall was completely covered with shelf after shelf of CDs. His room was better stocked than a music store. In the corner was a sophisticated-looking sound system, the kind I was afraid to touch because I'd be sure to break something. There was no bed, only a wide and inviting black leather sofa. The floor was covered with a thick golden
carpet, and the walls were hung with heavy fabric in a slightly darker shade.
"Good acoustics?" I guessed.
He chuckled and nodded.
He picked up a remote and turned the stereo on. It was quiet, but the soft jazz number sounded like the band was in the room with us. I went to look at his mind-boggling music collection.
"How do you have these organized?" I asked, unable to find any rhyme or reason to the titles.
He wasn't paying attention.
"Ummm, by year, and then by personal preference within that frame," he said absently.
I turned, and he was looking at me with a peculiar expression in his eyes.
"What?"
"I was prepared to feel... relieved. Having you know about everything, not needing to keep secrets from you. But I didn't expect to feel more than that. I like it. It makes me... happy." He shrugged, smiling slightly.
"I'm glad," I said, smiling back. I'd worried that he might regret telling me these things. It was good to know that wasn't the case.
But then, as his eyes dissected my expression, his smile faded and his forehead creased.
"You're still waiting for the running and the screaming, aren't you?" I guessed.
A faint smile touched his lips, and he nodded.
"I hate to burst your bubble, but you're really not as scary as you think you are. I don't find you scary at all, actually," I lied casually.
He stopped, raising his eyebrows in blatant disbelief. Then he flashed a wide, wicked smile.
"You really shouldn't have said that," he chuckled.
He growled, a low sound in the back of his throat; his lips curled back over his perfect teeth. His body shifted suddenly, half-crouched, tensed like a lion about to pounce.
I backed away from him, glaring.
"You wouldn't."
I didn't see him leap at me - it was much too fast. I only found myself suddenly airborne, and then we crashed onto the sofa, knocking it into the wall. All the while, his arms formed an iron cage of protection around me - I was barely jostled. But I still was gasping as I tried to right myself.
He wasn't having that. He curled me into a ball against his chest, holding me more securely than iron chains. I glared at him in alarm, but he seemed well in control, his jaw relaxed as he grinned, his eyes bright only with humor.
"You were saying?" he growled playfully.
"That you are a very, very terrifying monster," I said, my sarcasm marred a bit by my breathless voice.
"Much better," he approved.
"Um." I struggled. "Can I get up now?"
He just laughed.
"Can we come in?" a soft voice sounded from the hall.
I struggled to free myself, but Edward merely readjusted me so that I was somewhat more conventionally seated on his lap. I could see it was Alice, then, and Jasper behind her in the doorway. My cheeks burned, but Edward seemed at ease.
"Go ahead." Edward was still chuckling quietly.
Alice seemed to find nothing unusual in our embrace; she walked - almost danced, her movements were so graceful - to the center of the room, where she folded herself sinuously onto the floor. Jasper, however, paused at the door, his expression a trifle shocked. He stared at Edward's face, and I wondered if he was tasting the atmosphere with his unusual sensitivity.
"It sounded like you were having Bella for lunch, and we came to see if you would share," Alice announced.
I stiffened for an instant, until I realized Edward was grinning - whether at her comment or my response, I couldn't tell.
"Sorry, I don't believe I have enough to spare," he replied, his arms holding me recklessly close.
"Actually," Jasper said, smiling despite himself as he walked into the room, "Alice says there's going to be a real storm tonight, and Emmett wants to play ball. Are you game?"
The words were all common enough, but the context confused me. I gathered that Alice was a bit more reliable than the weatherman, though.
Edward's eyes lit up, but he hesitated.