meant something different. So I got Jacob alone and I tricked it out of him."
Her head dropped even lower as she admitted this, and her expression looked...guilty. I looked away
from her and laughed out loud. She felt guilty? What could she possibly have done to deserve censure of
any kind?
"Tricked him how?" I asked.
"I tried to flirt -it worked better than I thought it would," she explained, and her voice turned
incredulous at the memory of that success.
I could just imagine-considering the attraction she seemed to have for all things male, totally
unconscious on her part-how overwhelming she would be when she tried to be attractive. I was
suddenly full of pity for the unsuspecting boy she'd unleashed such a potent force on.
"I'd like to have seen that," I said, and then I laughed again with the black humor.
I wished I could have heard the boy's reaction, witnessed the devastation for myself.
"And you accused me of dazzling people-poor Jacob Black."
I wasn't as angry with the source of my exposure as I would have expected to feel. He didn't know
better. And how could I expect anyone to deny this girl what she wanted? No, I only felt sympathy for
the damage she would have done to his peace of mind.
I felt her blush heat the air between us. I glanced at her, and she was staring out her window. She didn't
speak again.
"What did you do then?" I prompted. Time to get back to the horror story.
"I did some research on the internet."
Ever practical. "And did that convince you?"
"No," she said. "Nothing fit. Most of it was kind of silly. And then-" She broke off again, and I heard her
teeth lock together.
"What?" I demanded. What had she found? What had made sense of the nightmare for her?#p#分页标题#e#
There was a short paused, and then she whispered, "I decided it didn't matter."
Shock froze my thoughts for a half-second, and then it all fit together. Why she'd sent her friends away
tonight rather than escape with them. Why she had gotten into my car with me again instead of
running, screaming for the police...
Her reactions were always wrong-always completely wrong. She pulled danger toward herself. She
invited it.
"It didn't matter ?" I said through my teeth, anger filling me. How was I supposed to protect someone
so...so...so determined to be unprotected?
"No," she said in a low voice that was inexplicably tender. "It doesn't matter to me what you are."
She was impossible.
"You don't care if I'm a monster? If I'm not human?"
"No."
I started to wonder if she was entirely stable.
I supposed that I could arrange for her to receive the best care available... Carlisle would have the
connections to find her the most skilled doctors, the most talented therapists. Perhaps something could
be done to fix whatever it was that was wrong with her, what ever it was that made her content to sit
beside a vampire with her heart beating calmly and steadily. I would watch over the facility, naturally,
and visit as often as I was allowed...
"You're angry," she sighed. "I shouldn't have said anything." As if her hiding these disturbing tendencies
would help either of us.
"No. I'd rather know what you're thinking-even if what you're thinking is insane."
"So I'm wrong again?" she asked, a bit belligerent now.
"That's not what I was referring to!" My teeth clenched together again. "'It doesn't matter'!" I repeated
in a scathing tone.
She gasped. "I'm right?"
"Does it matter ?" I countered.
She took a deep breath. I waited angrily for her answer.
"Not really," she said, her voice composed again. "But I am curious."
Not really. It didn't really matter. She didn't care. She knew I was inhuman, a monster, and this didn't
really matter to her.
Aside from my worries about her sanity, I began to feel a swelling of hope. I tried to quash it. "What are
you curious about?" I asked her. There were no secrets left, only minor details.
"How old are you?" she asked.
My answer was automatic and ingrained. "Seventeen."
"And how long have you been seventeen?"
I tried not to smile at the patronizing tone. "A while," I admitted.
"Okay," she said, abruptly enthusiastic. She smiled up at me. When I stared back, anxious again about
her mental health, she smiled wider. I grimaced.
"Don't laugh," she warned. "But how can you come out during the daytime?"
I laughed despite her request. Her research had not netted her anything unusual, it seemed. "Myth," I
told her.
"Burned by the sun?"
"Myth."
"Sleeping in coffins?"
"Myth." Sleep had not been a part of my life for so long-not until these last few nights, as I'd watched