"And Esme?"
"I think she must be back in Forks. She won't call if there's any chance the female will overhear. I expect they're all just being very careful."
"Do you think they're safe, really?"
"Bella, how many times do we have to tell you that there's no danger to us?"
"Would you tell me the truth, though?"
"Yes. I will always tell you the truth." Her voice was earnest.
I deliberated for a moment, and decided she meant it.
"Tell me then . . . how do you become a vampire?"
My question caught her off guard. She was quiet. I rolled over to look at her, and her expression seemed ambivalent.
"Edward doesn't want me to tell you that," she said firmly, but I sensed she didn't agree.
"That's not fair. I think I have a right to know."
"I know."
I looked at her, waiting.
She sighed. "He'll be extremely angry."
"It's none of his business. This is between you and me. Alice, as a friend, I'm begging you." And we were friends now, somehow-as she must have known we would be all along.
She looked at me with her splendid, wise eyes . . . choosing.
"I'll tell you the mechanics of it," she said finally, "but I don't remember it myself, and I've never done it or seen it done, so keep in mind that I can only tell you the theory."
I waited.
"As predators, we have a glut of weapons in our physical arsenal-much, much more than really necessary. The strength, the speed, the acute senses, not to mention those of us like Edward, Jasper, and I, who have extra senses as well. And then, like a carnivorous flower, we are physically attractive to our prey."
I was very still, remembering how pointedly Edward had demonstrated the same concept for me in the meadow.
She smiled a wide, ominous smile. "We have another fairly superfluous weapon. We're also venomous," she said, her teeth glistening. "The venom doesn't kill-it's merely incapacitating. It works slowly, spreading through the bloodstream, so that, once bitten, our prey is in too much physical pain to escape us. Mostly superfluous, as I said. If we're that close, the prey doesn't escape. Of course, there are always exceptions. Carlisle, for example."
"So . . . if the venom is left to spread . . ." I murmured.
"It takes a few days for the transformation to be complete, depending on how much venom is in the bloodstream, how close the venom enters to the heart. As long as the heart keeps beating, the poison spreads, healing, changing the body as it moves through it. Eventually the heart stops, and the conversion is finished. But all that time, every minute of it, a victim would be wishing for death."
I shivered.
"It's not pleasant, you see."
"Edward said that it was very hard to do . . . I don't quite understand," I said.
"We're also like sharks in a way. Once we taste the blood, or even smell it for that matter, it becomes very hard to keep from feeding. Sometimes impossible. So you see, to actually bite someone, to taste the blood, it would begin the frenzy. It's difficult on both sides-the bloodlust on the one hand, the awful pain on the other."
"Why do you think you don't remember?"
"I don't know. For everyone else, the pain of transformation is the sharpest memory they have of their human life. I remember nothing of being human." Her voice was wistful.
We lay silently, wrapped in our individual meditations.
The seconds ticked by, and I had almost forgotten her presence, I was so enveloped in my thoughts.
Then, without any warning, Alice leaped from the bed, landing lightly on her feet. My head jerked up as I stared at her, startled.
"Something's changed." Her voice was urgent, and she wasn't talking to me anymore.
She reached the door at the same time Jasper did. He had obviously heard our conversation and her sudden exclamation. He put his hands on her shoulders and guided her back to the bed, sitting her on the edge.
"What do you see?" he asked intently, staring into her eyes. Her eyes were focused on something very far away. I sat close to her, leaning in to catch her low, quick voice.
"I see a room. It's long, and there are mirrors everywhere. The floor is wooden. He's in the room, and he's waiting. There's gold . . . a gold stripe across the mirrors."
"Where is the room?"
"I don't know. Something is missing-another decision hasn't been made yet."
"How much time?"
"It's soon. He'll be in the mirror room today, or maybe tomorrow. It all depends. He's waiting for something. And he's in the dark now."
Jasper's voice was calm, methodical, as he questioned her in a practiced way. "What is he doing?"
"He's watching TV . . . no, he's running a VCR, in the dark, in another place."