The Twilight Saga Collection part 2(288)

Edward squeezed my shoulders sympathetically, and Jacob shot an apologetic glance at me across the room.

I tried to collect myself and ignore the pain and longing of the thirst. Charlie was waiting for my answer.

“Jacob was telling you the truth.”

“That makes one of you,” Charlie growled.

I hoped Charlie could see past the changes in my new face to read the remorse there.

Under my hair, Renesmee sniffed as Charlie’s scent registered with her, too. I tightened my grip on her.

Charlie saw my anxious glance down and followed it. “Oh,” he said, and all the anger fell off his face, leaving only shock behind. “This is her. The orphan Jacob said you’re adopting.”

“My niece,” Edward lied smoothly. He must have decided that the resemblance between Renesmee and him was too pronounced to be ignored. Best to claim they were related from the beginning.

“I thought you’d lost your family,” Charlie said, accusation returning to his voice.

“I lost my parents. My older brother was adopted, like me. I never saw him after that. But the courts located me when he and his wife died in a car accident, leaving their only child without any other family.”

Edward was so good at this. His voice was even, with just the right amount of innocence. I needed practice so that I could do that.

Renesmee peeked out from under my hair, sniffing again. She glanced shyly at Charlie from under her long lashes, then hid again.

“She’s… she’s, well, she’s a beauty.”

“Yes,” Edward agreed.

“Kind of a big responsibility, though. You two are just getting started.”

“What else could we do?” Edward brushed his fingers lightly over her cheek. I saw him touch her lips for just a moment—a reminder. “Would you have refused her?”

“Hmph. Well.” He shook his head absently. “Jake says you call her Nessie?”

“No, we don’t,” I said, my voice too sharp and piercing. “Her name is Renesmee.”

Charlie refocused on me. “How do you feel about this? Maybe Carlisle and Esme could—”

“She’s mine,” I interrupted. “I want her.”

Charlie frowned. “You gonna make me a grandpa so young?”

Edward smiled. “Carlisle is a grandfather, too.”

Charlie shot an incredulous glance at Carlisle, still standing by the front door; he looked like Zeus’s younger, better-looking brother.

Charlie snorted and then laughed. “I guess that does sort of make me feel better.” His eyes strayed back to Renesmee. “She sure is something to look at.” His warm breath blew lightly across the space between us.

Renesmee leaned toward the smell, shaking off my hair and looking him full in the face for the first time. Charlie gasped.

I knew what he was seeing. My eyes—his eyes—copied exactly into her perfect face.

Charlie started hyperventilating. His lips trembled, and I could read the numbers he mouthed. He was counting backward, trying to fit nine months into one. Trying to put it together but not able to force the evidence right in front of him to make any sense.

Jacob got up and came over to pat Charlie on the back. He leaned in to whisper something in Charlie’s ear; only Charlie didn’t know we could all hear.

“Need to know, Charlie. It’s okay. I promise.”

Charlie swallowed and nodded. And then his eyes blazed as he took a step closer to Edward with his fists tightly clenched.

“I don’t want to know everything, but I’m done with the lies!”

“I’m sorry,” Edward said calmly, “but you need to know the public story more than you need to know the truth. If you’re going to be part of this secret, the public story is the one that counts. It’s to protect Bella and Renesmee as well as the rest of us. Can you go along with the lies for them?”

The room was full of statues. I crossed my ankles.

Charlie huffed once and then turned his glare on me. “You might’ve given me some warning, kid.”

“Would it really have made this any easier?”

He frowned, and then he knelt on the floor in front of me. I could see the movement of the blood in his neck under his skin. I could feel the warm vibration of it.

So could Renesmee. She smiled and reached one pink palm out to him. I held her back. She pushed her other hand against my neck, thirst, curiosity, and Charlie’s face in her thoughts. There was a subtle edge to the message that made me think that she’d understood Edward’s words perfectly; she acknowledged thirst, but overrode it in the same thought.

“Whoa,” Charlie gasped, his eyes on her perfect teeth. “How old is she?”