I took an unnecessary breath to settle myself.
How different this kissing was! I read his expression as I compared the indistinct human memories to this clear, intense feeling. He looked… a little smug.
“You’ve been holding out on me,” I accused in my singing voice, my eyes narrowing a tiny bit.
He laughed, radiant with relief that it was all over—the fear, the pain, the uncertainties, the waiting, all of it behind us now. “It was sort of necessary at the time,” he reminded me. “Now it’s your turn to not break me.” He laughed again.
I frowned as I considered that, and then Edward was not the only one laughing.
Carlisle stepped around Emmett and walked toward me swiftly; his eyes were only slightly wary, but Jasper shadowed his footsteps. I’d never seen Carlisle’s face before either, not really. I had an odd urge to blink—like I was staring at the sun.
“How do you feel, Bella?” Carlisle asked.
I considered that for a sixty-fourth of a second.
“Overwhelmed. There’s so much. . . .” I trailed off, listening to the bell-tone of my voice again.
“Yes, it can be quite confusing.”
I nodded one fast, jerky bob. “But I feel like me. Sort of. I didn’t expect that.”
Edward’s arms squeezed lightly around my waist. “I told you so,” he whispered.
“You are quite controlled,” Carlisle mused. “More so than I expected, even with the time you had to prepare yourself mentally for this.”
I thought about the wild mood swings, the difficulty concentrating, and whispered, “I’m not sure about that.”
He nodded seriously, and then his jeweled eyes glittered with interest. “It seems like we did something right with the morphine this time. Tell me, what do you remember of the transformation process?”
I hesitated, intensely aware of Edward’s breath brushing against my cheek, sending whispers of electricity through my skin.
“Everything was… very dim before. I remember the baby couldn’t breathe. . . .”
I looked at Edward, momentarily frightened by the memory.
“Renesmee is healthy and well,” he promised, a gleam I’d never seen before in his eyes. He said her name with an understated fervor. A reverence. The way devout people talked about their gods. “What do you remember after that?”
I focused on my poker face. I’d never been much of a liar. “It’s hard to remember. It was so dark before. And then… I opened my eyes and I could see everything.”
“Amazing,” Carlisle breathed, his eyes alight.
Chagrin washed through me, and I waited for the heat to burn in my cheeks and give me away. And then I remembered that I would never blush again. Maybe that would protect Edward from the truth.
I’d have to find a way to tip off Carlisle, though. Someday. If he ever needed to create another vampire. That possibility seemed very unlikely, which made me feel better about lying.
“I want you to think—to tell me everything you remember,” Carlisle pressed excitedly, and I couldn’t help the grimace that flashed across my face. I didn’t want to have to keep lying, because I might slip up. And I didn’t want to think about the burning. Unlike the human memories, that part was perfectly clear and I found I could remember it with far too much precision.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Bella,” Carlisle apologized immediately. “Of course your thirst must be very uncomfortable. This conversation can wait.”
Until he’d mentioned it, the thirst actually wasn’t unmanageable. There was so much room in my head. A separate part of my brain was keeping tabs on the burn in my throat, almost like a reflex. The way my old brain had handled breathing and blinking.
But Carlisle’s assumption brought the burn to the forefront of my mind. Suddenly, the dry ache was all I could think about, and the more I thought about it, the more it hurt. My hand flew up to cup my throat, like I could smother the flames from the outside. The skin of my neck was strange beneath my fingers. So smooth it was somehow soft, though it was hard as stone, too.
Edward dropped his arms and took my other hand, tugging gently. “Let’s hunt, Bella.”
My eyes opened wider and the pain of the thirst receded, shock taking its place.
Me? Hunt? With Edward? But… how? I didn’t know what to do.
He read the alarm in my expression and smiled encouragingly. “It’s quite easy, love. Instinctual. Don’t worry, I’ll show you.” When I didn’t move, he grinned his crooked smile and raised his eyebrows. “I was under the impression that you’d always wanted to see me hunt.”
I laughed in a short burst of humor (part of me listened in wonder to the pealing bell sound) as his words reminded me of cloudy human conversations. And then I took a whole second to run quickly through those first days with Edward—the true beginning of my life—in my head so that I would never forget them. I did not expect that it would be so uncomfortable to remember. Like trying to squint through muddy water. I knew from Rosalie’s experience that if I thought of my human memories enough, I would not lose them over time. I did not want to forget one minute I’d spent with Edward, even now, when eternity stretched in front of us. I would have to make sure those human memories were cemented into my infallible vampire mind.