“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.”
“Can you see where he is?”
“No, it’s too dark.”
“And the mirror room, what else is there?”
“Just the mirrors, and the gold. It’s a band, around the room. And there’s a black table with a big stereo, and a TV. He’s touching the VCR there, but he doesn’t watch the way he does in the dark room. This is the room where he waits.” Her eyes drifted, then focused on Jasper’s face.
“There’s nothing else?”
She shook her head. They looked at each other, motionless.
“What does it mean?” I asked.
Neither of them answered for a moment, then Jasper looked at me.
“It means the tracker’s plans have changed. He’s made a decision that will lead him to the mirror room, and the dark room.”
“But we don’t know where those rooms are?”
“No.”
“But we do know that he won’t be in the mountains north of Washington, being hunted. He’ll elude them.” Alice’s voice was bleak.
“Should we call?” I asked. They traded a serious look, undecided.
And the phone rang.
Alice was across the room before I could lift my head to look at it.
She pushed a button and held the phone to her ear, but she didn’t speak first.
“Carlisle,” she breathed. She didn’t seem surprised or relieved, the way I felt.
“Yes,” she said, glancing at me. She listened for a long moment.
“I just saw him.” She described again the vision she’d seen. “Whatever made him get on that plane . . . it was leading him to those rooms.” She paused. “Yes,” Alice said into the phone, and then she spoke to me. “Bella?”
She held the phone out toward me. I ran to it.
“Hello?” I breathed.
“Bella,” Edward said.
“Oh, Edward! I was so worried.”
“Bella,” he sighed in frustration, “I told you not to worry about anything but yourself.” It was so unbelievably good to hear his voice. I felt the hovering cloud of despair lighten and drift back as he spoke.
“Where are you?”
“We’re outside of Vancouver. Bella, I’m sorry — we lost him. He seems suspicious of us — he’s careful to stay just far enough away that I can’t hear what he’s thinking. But he’s gone now — it looks like he got on a plane. We think he’s heading back to Forks to start over.” I could hear Alice filling in Jasper behind me, her quick words blurring together into a humming noise.
“I know. Alice saw that he got away.”
“You don’t have to worry, though. He won’t find anything to lead him to you. You just have to stay there and wait till we find him again.”
“I’ll be fine. Is Esme with Charlie?”
“Yes — the female has been in town. She went to the house, but while Charlie was at work. She hasn’t gone near him, so don’t be afraid. He’s safe with Esme and Rosalie watching.”
“What is she doing?”
“Probably trying to pick up the trail. She’s been all through the town during the night. Rosalie traced her through the airport, all the roads around town, the school . . . she’s digging, Bella, but there’s nothing to find.”
“And you’re sure Charlie’s safe?”
“Yes, Esme won’t let him out of her sight. And we’ll be there soon. If the tracker gets anywhere near Forks, we’ll have him.”
“I miss you,” I whispered.
“I know, Bella. Believe me, I know. It’s like you’ve taken half my self away with you.”
“Come and get it, then,” I challenged.
“Soon, as soon as I possibly can. I will make you safe first.” His voice was hard.
“I love you,” I reminded him.
“Could you believe that, despite everything I’ve put you through, I love you, too?”
“Yes, I can, actually.”
“I’ll come for you soon.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
As soon as the phone went dead, the cloud of depression began to creep over me again.
I turned to give the phone back to Alice and found her and Jasper bent over the table, where Alice was sketching on a piece of hotel stationery. I leaned on the back of the couch, looking over her shoulder.
She drew a room: long, rectangular, with a thinner, square section at the back. The wooden planks that made up the floor stretched lengthwise across the room. Down the walls were lines denoting the breaks in the mirrors. And then, wrapping around the walls, waist high, a long band. The band Alice said was gold.
“It’s a ballet studio,” I said, suddenly recognizing the familiar shapes.
They looked at me, surprised.
“Do you know this room?” Jasper’s voice sounded calm, but there was an undercurrent of something I couldn’t identify. Alice bent her head to her work, her hand flying across the page now, the shape of an emergency exit taking shape against the back wall, the stereo and TV on a low table by the front right corner.
“It looks like a place I used to go for dance lessons — when I was eight or nine. It was shaped just the same.” I touched the page where the square section jutted out, narrowing the back part of the room. “That’s where the bathrooms were — the doors were through the other dance floor. But the stereo was here” — I pointed to the left corner — “it was older, and there wasn’t a TV. There was a window in the waiting room — you would see the room from this perspective if you looked through it.”
Alice and Jasper were staring at me.
“Are you sure it’s the same room?” Jasper asked, still calm.
“No, not at all — I suppose most dance studios would look the same — the mirrors, the bar.” I traced my finger along the ballet bar set against the mirrors. “It’s just the shape that looked familiar.
” I touched the door, set in exactly the same place as the one I remembered.
“Would you have any reason to go there now?” Alice asked, breaking my reverie.
“No, I haven’t been there in almost ten years. I was a terrible dancer — they always put me in the back for recitals,” I admitted.
“So there’s no way it could be connected with you?” Alice asked intently.
“No, I don’t even think the same person owns it. I’m sure it’s just another dance studio, somewhere.”
“Where was the studio you went to?” Jasper asked in a casual voice.
“It was just around the corner from my mom’s house. I used to walk there after school . . . ,” I said, my voice trailing off. I didn’t miss the look they exchanged.
“Here in Phoenix, then?” His voice was still casual.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Fifty-eighth Street and Cactus.”
We all sat in silence, staring at the drawing.
“Alice, is that phone safe?”
“Yes,” she reassured me. “The number would just trace back to Washington.”
“Then I can use it to call my mom.”
“I thought she was in Florida.”
“She is — but she’s coming home soon, and she can’t come back to that house while . . .” My voice trembled. I was thinking about something Edward had said, about the red-haired female at Charlie’s house, at the school, where my records would be.
“How will you reach her?”
“They don’t have a permanent number except at the house — she’s supposed to check her messages regularly.”
“Jasper?” Alice asked.
He thought about it. “I don’t think there’s any way it could hurt — be sure you don’t say where you are, of course.”
I reached eagerly for the phone and dialed the familiar number. It rang four times, and then I heard my mom’s breezy voice telling me to leave a message.
“Mom,” I said after the beep, “it’s me. Listen, I need you to do something. It’s important. As soon as you get this message, call me at this number.” Alice was already at my side, writing the number for me on the bottom of her picture. I read it carefully, twice. “Please don’t go anywhere until you talk to me. Don’t worry, I’m okay, but I have to talk to you right away, no matter how late you get this call, all right? I love you, Mom. Bye.” I closed my eyes and prayed with all my might that no unforeseen change of plans would bring her home before she got my message.
I settled into the sofa, nibbling on a plate of leftover fruit, anticipating a long evening. I thought about calling Charlie, but I wasn’t sure if I should be home by now or not. I concentrated on the news, watching out for stories about Florida, or about spring training — strikes or hurricanes or terrorist attacks — anything that might send them home early.
Immortality must grant endless patience. Neither Jasper nor Alice seemed to feel the need to do anything at all. For a while, Alice sketched the vague outline of the dark room from her vision, as much as she could see in the light from the TV. But when she was done, she simply sat, looking at the blank walls with her timeless eyes. Jasper, too, seemed to have no urge to pace, or peek through the curtains, or run screaming out the door, the way I did.
I must have fallen asleep on the couch, waiting for the phone to ring again. The touch of Alice’s cold hands woke me briefly as she carried me to the bed, but I was unconscious again before my head hit the pillow.
21. PHONE CALL
I COULD FEEL IT WAS TOO EARLY AGAIN WHEN I WOKE, and I knew I was getting the schedule of my days and nights slowly reversed. I lay in my bed and listened to the quiet voices of Alice and Jasper in the other room. That they were loud enough for me to hear at all was strange. I rolled till my feet touched the floor and then staggered to the living room.
The clock on the TV said it was just after two in the morning. Alice and Jasper were sitting together on the sofa, Alice sketching again while Jasper looked over her shoulder. They didn’t look up when I entered, too engrossed in Alice’s work.
I crept to Jasper’s side to peek.
“Did she see something more?” I asked him quietly.
“Yes. Something’s brought him back to the room with the VCR, but it’s light now.”
I watched as Alice drew a square room with dark beams across its low ceiling. The walls were paneled in wood, a little too dark, out of date. The floor had a dark carpet with a pattern in it. There was a large window against the south wall, and an opening through the west wall led to the living room. One side of that entrance was stone — a large tan stone fireplace that was open to both rooms. The focus of the room from this perspective, the TV and VCR, balanced on a too-small wooden stand, were in the southwest corner of the room. An aged sectional sofa curved around in front of the TV, a round coffee table in front of it.
“The phone goes there,” I whispered, pointing.
Two pairs of eternal eyes stared at me.
“That’s my mother’s house.”
Alice was already off the couch, phone in hand, dialing. I stared at the precise rendering of my mother’s family room. Uncharacteristically, Jasper slid closer to me. He lightly touched his hand to my shoulder, and the physical contact seemed to make his calming influence stronger. The panic stayed dull, unfocused.
Alice’s lips were trembling with the speed of her words, the low buzzing impossible to decipher. I couldn’t concentrate.
“Bella,” Alice said. I looked at her numbly.
“Bella, Edward is coming to get you. He and Emmett and Carlisle are going to take you somewhere, to hide you for a while.”
“Edward is coming?” The words were like a life vest, holding my head above the flood.
“Yes, he’s catching the first flight out of Seattle. We’ll meet him at the airport, and you’ll leave with him.”
“But, my mother . . . he came here for my mother, Alice!” Despite Jasper, the hysteria bubbled up in my voice.
“Jasper and I will stay till she’s safe.”
“I can’t win, Alice. You can’t guard everyone I know forever. Don’t you see what he’s doing? He’s not tracking me at all. He’ll find someone, he’ll hurt someone I love. . . . Alice, I can’t —”
“We’ll catch him, Bella,” she assured me.
“And what if you get hurt, Alice? Do you think that’s okay with me? Do you think it’s only my human family he can hurt me with?”
Alice looked meaningfully at Jasper. A deep, heavy fog of lethargy washed over me, and my eyes closed without my permission. My mind struggled against the fog, realizing what was happening. I forced my eyes open and stood up, stepping away from Jasper’s hand.
“I don’t want to go back to sleep,” I snapped.
I walked to my room and shut the door, slammed it really, so I could be free to go to pieces privately. This time Alice didn’t follow me. For three and a half hours I stared at the wall, curled in a ball, rocking. My mind went around in circles, trying to come up with some way out of this nightmare. There was no escape, no reprieve. I could see only one possible end looming darkly in my future. The only question was how many other people would be hurt before I reached it.
The only solace, the only hope I had left, was knowing that I would see Edward soon. Maybe, if I could just see his face again, I would also be able to see the solution that eluded me now.
When the phone rang, I returned to the front room, a little ashamed of my behavior. I hoped I hadn’t offended either of them, that they would know how grateful I was for the sacrifices they were making on my account.
Alice was talking as rapidly as ever, but what caught my attention was that, for the first time, Jasper was not in the room. I looked at the clock — it was five-thirty in the morning.
“They’re just boarding their plane,” Alice told me. “They’ll land at nine-forty-five.” Just a few more hours to keep breathing till he was here.
“Where’s Jasper?”
“He went to check out
.”
“You aren’t staying here?”
“No, we’re relocating closer to your mother’s house.”
My stomach twisted uneasily at her words.
But the phone rang again, distracting me. She looked surprised, but I was already walking forward, reaching hopefully for the phone.
“Hello?” Alice asked. “No, she’s right here.” She held the phone out to me. Your mother, she mouthed.
“Hello?”
“Bella? Bella?” It was my mother’s voice, in a familiar tone I had heard a thousand times in my childhood, anytime I’d gotten too close to the edge of the sidewalk or strayed out of her sight in a crowded place. It was the sound of panic.
I sighed. I’d been expecting this, though I’d tried to make my message as unalarming as possible without lessening the urgency of it.
“Calm down, Mom,” I said in my most soothing voice, walking slowly away from Alice. I wasn’t sure if I could lie as convincingly with her eyes on me. “Everything is fine, okay? Just give me a minute and I’ll explain everything, I promise.”
I paused, surprised that she hadn’t interrupted me yet.
“Mom?”
“Be very careful not to say anything until I tell you to.” The voice I heard now was as unfamiliar as it was unexpected. It was a man’s tenor voice, a very pleasant, generic voice — the kind of voice that you heard in the background of luxury car commercials. He spoke very quickly.
“Now, I don’t need to hurt your mother, so please do exactly as I say, and she’ll be fine.” He paused for a minute while I listened in mute horror. “That’s very good,” he congratulated. “Now repeat after me, and do try to sound natural. Please say, ‘No, Mom, stay where you are.’”
“No, Mom, stay where you are.” My voice was barely more than a whisper.
“I can see this is going to be difficult.” The voice was amused, still light and friendly. “Why don’t you walk into another room now so your face doesn’t ruin everything? There’s no reason for your mother to suffer. As you’re walking, please say, ‘Mom, please listen to me.’ Say it now.”
“Mom, please listen to me,” my voice pleaded. I walked very slowly to the bedroom, feeling Alice’s worried stare on my back. I shut the door behind me, trying to think clearly through the terror that gripped my brain.
The Twilight Saga Collection Page 33