For the second time tonight, I confessed to an intended murder. At least this one was defensible.
She was quiet as I struggled to control myself. I listened to her heartbeat. The rhythm was irregular, but
it slowed as the time passed until it was steady again. Her breathing, too, was low and even.
I was too close to the edge. I needed to get her home before...
Would I kill him, then? Would I become a murderer again when she trusted me? Was there any way to
stop myself?
She'd promised to tell me her latest theory when we were alone. Did I want to hear it? I was anxious for
it, but would the reward for my curiosity be worse than not knowing?
At any rate, she must have had enough truth for one night. I looked at her again, and her face was paler
than before, but composed.
"Are you ready to go home?" I asked.
"I'm ready to leave," she said, choosing her words carefully, as if a simple 'yes' did not fully express what
she wanted to say.
Frustrating.
The waitress returned. She'd heard Bella's last statement as she'd dithered on the other side of the
partition, wondering what more she could offer me. I wanted to roll my eyes at some of the offerings
she'd had in mind.
"How are we doing?" she asked me.
"We're ready for the check, thank you," I told her, my eyes on Bella.
The waitress's breathing spiked and she was momentarily-to use Bella's phrasing-dazzled by my voice.
In a sudden moment of perception, hearing the way my voice sounded in this inconsequential human's
head, I realized why I seemed to be attracting so much admiration tonight-unmarred by the usual fear.
It was because of Bella. Trying so hard to be safe for her, to be less frightening, to be human, I truly had
lost my edge. The other humans saw only beauty now, with my innate horror so carefully under control.
I looked up at the waitress, waiting for her to recover herself. It was sort of humorous, now that I
understood the reason.
"Sure," she stuttered. "Here you go."
She handed me the folder with the bill, thinking of the card she'd slid in behind the receipt. A card with
her name and telephone number on it. Yes, it was rather funny.
I had money ready again. I gave the folder back at once, so she wouldn't waste any time waiting for a
call that would never come.
"No change," I told her, hoping the size of the tip would assuage her disappointment. I stood, and Bella
quickly followed suit. I wanted to offer her my hand, but I thought that might be pushing my luck a little
too far for one night. I thanked the waitress, my eyes never leaving Bella's face. Bella seemed to be
finding something amusing, too.
We walked out; I walked as close beside her as I dared. Close enough that the warmth coming off her
body was like a physical touch against the left side of my body.
As I held the door for her, she sighed quietly, and I wondered what regret made her sad. I stared into
her eyes, about to ask, when she suddenly looked at the ground, seeming embarrassed. It made me
more curious, even as it made me reluctant to ask. The silence between us continued while I opened her
door for her and then got into the car.
I turned the heater on-the warmer weather had come to an abrupt end; the cold car must be
uncomfortable for her. She huddled in my jacket, a small smile on her lips.
I waited, postponing conversation until the lights of the boardwalk faded. It made me feel more alone
with her.
Was that the right thing? Now that I was focused only on her, the car seemed very small. Her scent
swirled through it with the current of the heater, building and strengthening. It grew into its own force,
like another entity in the car. A presence that demanded recognition.
It had that; I burned. The burning was acceptable, though. It seemed strangely appropriate to me. I had
been given so much tonight-more than I'd expected. And here she was, still willingly at my side. I owed
something in return for that. A sacrifice. A burnt offering.
Now if I could just keep it to that; just burn, and nothing more. But the venom filled my mouth, and my
muscles tensed in anticipation, as if I were hunting...
I had to keep such thoughts from my mind. And I knew what would distract me.
"Now," I said to her, fear of her response taking the edge off the burn. "It's your turn."
9. Theory
"Can I ask just one more?" she entreated instead of answering my demand.
I was on edge, anxious for the worst. And yet, how tempting it was to prolong this moment. To have
Bella with me, willingly, for just a few seconds longer. I sighed at the dilemma, and then said, "One."
"Well...," she hesitated for a moment, as if deciding which question to voice. "You said you knew I hadn't
gone into the bookstore, and that I had gone south. I was just wondering how you know that."
I glared out the windshield. Here was another question that revealed nothing on her part, and too much