The Twilight Saga Collection part 2(27)

“And you didn’t even stay up to watch me swallow a cow.” He laughed. “No, I’m glad you liked it. It was . . . nice for me. Having you there.”

There was a movement in the dark distance — something pale ghosting against the black trees. Pacing?

“Yeah, he’s not so patient, is he?” Jacob said, noticing my distraction. “Go ahead. But come back soon, okay?”

“Sure, Jake,” I promised, cracking the car door open. Cold air washed across my legs and made me shiver.

“Sleep tight, Bells. Don’t worry about anything — I’ll be watching out for you tonight.”

I paused, one foot on the ground. “No, Jake. Get some rest, I’ll be fine.”

“Sure, sure,” he said, but he sounded more patronizing than agreeing.

“’Night, Jake. Thanks.”

“’Night, Bella,” he whispered as I hurried into the darkness.

Edward caught me at the boundary line.

“Bella,” he said, relief strong in his voice; his arms wound tightly around me.

“Hi. Sorry I’m so late. I fell asleep and —”

“I know. Jacob explained.” He started toward the car, and I staggered woodenly at his side. “Are you tired? I could carry you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Let’s get you home and in bed. Did you have a nice time?”

“Yeah — it was amazing, Edward. I wish you could have come. I can’t even explain it. Jake’s dad told us the old legends and it was like . . . like magic.”

“You’ll have to tell me about it. After you’ve slept.”

“I won’t get it right,” I said, and then I yawned hugely.

Edward chuckled. He opened my door for me, lifted me in, and buckled my seat belt around me.

Bright lights flashed on and swept across us. I waved toward Jacob’s headlights, but I didn’t know if he saw the gesture.


That night — after I’d gotten past Charlie, who didn’t give me as much trouble as I’d expected because Jacob had called him, too — instead of collapsing in bed right away, I leaned out the open window while I waited for Edward to come back. The night was surprisingly cold, almost wintry. I hadn’t noticed it at all on the windy cliffs; I imagined that had less to do with the fire than it did with sitting next to Jacob.

Icy droplets spattered against my face as the rain began to fall.

It was too dark to see much besides the black triangles of the spruces leaning and shaking with the wind. But I strained my eyes anyway, searching for other shapes in the storm. A pale silhouette, moving like a ghost through the black . . . or maybe the shadowy outline of an enormous wolf. . . . My eyes were too weak.

Then there was a movement in the night, right beside me. Edward slid through my open window, his hands colder than the rain.

“Is Jacob out there?” I asked, shivering as Edward pulled me into the circle of his arm.

“Yes . . . somewhere. And Esme’s on her way home.”

I sighed. “It’s so cold and wet. This is silly.” I shivered again.

He chuckled. “It’s only cold to you, Bella.”

It was cold in my dream that night, too, maybe because I slept in Edward’s arms. But I dreamt I was outside in the storm, the wind whipping my hair in my face and blinding my eyes. I stood on the rocky crescent of First Beach, trying to understand the quickly moving shapes I could only dimly see in the darkness at the shore’s edge. At first, there was nothing but a flash of white and black, darting toward each other and dancing away. And then, as if the moon had suddenly broken from the clouds, I could see everything.

Rosalie, her hair swinging wet and golden down to the back of her knees, was lunging at an enormous wolf — its muzzle shot through with silver — that I instinctively recognized as Billy Black.

I broke into a run, but found myself moving in the frustrating slow motion of dreamers. I tried to scream to them, to tell them to stop, but my voice was stolen by the wind, and I could make no sound. I waved my arms, hoping to catch their attention. Something flashed in my hand, and I noticed for the first time that my right hand wasn’t empty.

I held a long, sharp blade, ancient and silver, crusted in dried, blackened blood.

I cringed away from the knife, and my eyes snapped open to the quiet darkness of my bedroom. The first thing I realized was that I was not alone, and I turned to bury my face in Edward’s chest, knowing the sweet scent of his skin would chase the nightmare away more effectively than anything else.

“Did I wake you?” he whispered. There was the sound of paper, the ruffling of pages, and a faint thump as something light fell to the wooden floor.