Twilight Tenth Anniversary Edition

by Stephenie Meyer

  The sky suddenly darkened further, and, as I looked over my shoulder to glare at the offending cloud, I realized with a shock that two men were walking quietly twenty feet behind me.

  They were from the same group I’d passed at the corner, though neither was the dark one who’d spoken to me. I turned my head forward at once, quickening my pace. A chill that had nothing to do with the weather made me shiver again. My purse was on a shoulder strap and I had it slung across my body, the way you were supposed to wear it so it wouldn’t get snatched. I knew exactly where my pepper spray was—still in my duffel bag under the bed, never unpacked. I didn’t have much money with me, just a twenty and some ones, and I thought about “accidentally” dropping my bag and walking away. But a small, frightened voice in the back of my mind warned me that they might be something worse than thieves.

  I listened intently to their quiet footsteps, which were much too quiet when compared to the boisterous noise they’d been making earlier, and it didn’t sound like they were speeding up, or getting any closer to me. Breathe, I had to remind myself. You don’t know they’re following you. I continued to walk as quickly as I could without actually running, focusing on the right-hand turn that was only a few yards away from me now. I could hear them, staying as far back as they’d been before. A blue car turned onto the street from the south and drove quickly past me. I thought of jumping out in front of it, but I hesitated, inhibited, unsure that I was really being pursued, and then it was too late.

  I reached the corner, but a swift glance revealed that it was only a blind drive to the back of another building. I was half-turned in anticipation; I had to hurriedly correct and dash across the narrow drive, back to the sidewalk. The street ended at the next corner, where there was a stop sign. I concentrated on the faint footsteps behind me, deciding whether or not to run. They sounded farther back, though, and I knew they could outrun me in any case. I was sure to trip and go sprawling if I tried to go any faster. The footfalls were definitely farther back. I risked a quick glance over my shoulder, and they were maybe forty feet back now, I saw with relief. But they were both staring at me.

  It seemed to take forever for me to get to the corner. I kept my pace steady, the men behind me falling ever so slightly farther behind with every step. Maybe they realized they had scared me and were sorry. I saw two cars going north pass the intersection I was heading for, and I exhaled in relief. There would be more people around once I got off this deserted street. I skipped around the corner with a grateful sigh.

  And skidded to a stop.

  The street was lined on both sides by blank, doorless, windowless walls. I could see in the distance, two intersections down, streetlamps, cars, and more pedestrians, but they were all too far away. Because lounging against the western building, midway down the street, were the other two men from the group, both watching with excited smiles as I froze dead on the sidewalk. I realized then that I wasn’t being followed.

  I was being herded.

  I paused for only a second, but it felt like a very long time. I turned then and darted to the other side of the road. I had a sinking feeling that it was a wasted attempt. The footsteps behind me were louder now.

  “There you are!” The booming voice of the stocky, dark-haired man shattered the intense quiet and made me jump. In the gathering darkness, it seemed like he was looking past me.

  “Yeah,” a voice called loudly from behind me, making me jump again as I tried to hurry down the street. “We just took a little detour.”

  My steps had to slow now. I was closing the distance between myself and the lounging pair too quickly. I had a good loud scream, and I sucked in air, preparing to use it, but my throat was so dry I wasn’t sure how much volume I could manage. With a quick movement I slipped my purse over my head, gripping the strap with one hand, ready to surrender it or use it as weapon as need demanded.

  The thickset man shrugged away from the wall as I warily came to a stop, and walked slowly into the street.

  “Stay away from me,” I warned in a voice that was supposed to sound strong and fearless. But I was right about the dry throat—no volume.

  “Don’t be like that, sugar,” he called, and the raucous laughter started again behind me.

  I braced myself, feet apart, trying to remember through my panic what little self-defense I knew. Heel of the hand thrust upward, hopefully breaking the nose or shoving it into the brain. Finger through the eye socket—try to hook around and pop the eye out. And the standard knee to the groin, of course. That same pessimistic voice in my mind spoke up then, reminding me that I probably wouldn’t have a chance against one of them, and there were four. Shut up! I commanded the voice before terror could incapacitate me. I wasn’t going out without taking someone with me. I tried to swallow so I could build up a decent scream.

  Headlights suddenly flew around the corner, the car almost hitting the stocky one, forcing him to jump back toward the sidewalk. I dove into the road—this car was going to stop, or have to hit me. But the silver car unexpectedly fishtailed around, skidding to a stop with the passenger door open just a few feet from me.

  “Get in,” a furious voice commanded.

  It was amazing how instantaneously the choking fear vanished, amazing how suddenly the feeling of security washed over me—even before I was off the street—as soon as I heard his voice. I jumped into the seat, slamming the door shut behind me.

  It was dark in the car, no light had come on with the opening of the door, and I could barely see his face in the glow from the dashboard. The tires squealed as he spun around to face north, accelerating too quickly, swerving toward the stunned men on the street. I caught a glimpse of them diving for the sidewalk as we straightened out and sped toward the harbor.

  “Put on your seat belt,” he commanded, and I realized I was clutching the seat with both hands. I quickly obeyed; the snap as the belt connected was loud in the darkness. He took a sharp left, racing forward, blowing through several stop signs without a pause.

  But I felt utterly safe and, for the moment, totally unconcerned about where we were going. I stared at his face in profound relief, relief that went beyond my sudden deliverance. I studied his flawless features in the limited light, waiting for my breath to return to normal, until it occurred to me that his expression was murderously angry.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, surprised at how hoarse my voice sounded.

  “No,” he said curtly, and his tone was livid.

  I sat in silence, watching his face while his blazing eyes stared straight ahead, until the car came to a sudden stop. I glanced around, but it was too dark to see anything beside the vague outline of dark trees crowding the roadside. We weren’t in town anymore.

  “Bella?” he asked, his voice tight, controlled.

  “Yes?” My voice was still rough. I tried to clear my throat quietly.

  “Are you all right?” He still didn’t look at me, but the fury was plain on his face.

  “Yes,” I croaked softly.

  “Distract me, please,” he ordered.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  He exhaled sharply.

  “Just prattle about something unimportant until I calm down,” he clarified, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

  “Um.” I wracked my brain for something trivial. “I’m going to run over Tyler Crowley tomorrow before school?”

  He was still squeezing his eyes closed, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

  “Why?”

  “He’s telling everyone that he’s taking me to prom—either he’s insane or he’s still trying to make up for almost killing me last… well, you remember it, and he thinks prom is somehow the correct way to do this. So I figure if I endanger his life, then we’re even, and he can’t keep trying to make amends. I don’t need enemies and maybe Lauren would back off if he left me alone. I might have to total his Sentra, though. If he doesn’t have a ride he can’t take anyone to pro
m…,” I babbled on.

  “I heard about that.” He sounded a bit more composed.

  “You did?” I asked in disbelief, my previous irritation flaring. “If he’s paralyzed from the neck down, he can’t go to the prom, either,” I muttered, refining my plan.

  Edward sighed, and finally opened his eyes.

  “Better?”

  “Not really.”

  I waited, but he didn’t speak again. He leaned his head back against the seat, staring at the ceiling of the car. His face was rigid.

  “What’s wrong?” My voice came out in a whisper.

  “Sometimes I have a problem with my temper, Bella.” He was whispering, too, and as he stared out the window, his eyes narrowed into slits. “But it wouldn’t be helpful for me to turn around and hunt down those…” He didn’t finish his sentence, looking away, struggling for a moment to control his anger again. “At least,” he continued, “that’s what I’m trying to convince myself.”

  “Oh.” The word seemed inadequate, but I couldn’t think of a better response.

  We sat in silence again. I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was past six-thirty.

  “Jessica and Angela will be worried,” I murmured. “I was supposed to meet them.”

  He started the engine without another word, turning around smoothly and speeding back toward town. We were under the streetlights in no time at all, still going too fast, weaving with ease through the cars slowly cruising the boardwalk. He parallel-parked against the curb in a space I would have thought much too small for the Volvo, but he slid in effortlessly in one try. I looked out the window to see the lights of La Bella Italia, and Jess and Angela just leaving, pacing anxiously away from us.

  “How did you know where…?” I began, but then I just shook my head. I heard the door open and turned to see him getting out.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “I’m taking you to dinner.” He smiled slightly, but his eyes were hard. He stepped out of the car and slammed the door. I fumbled with my seat belt, and then hurried to get out of the car as well. He was waiting for me on the sidewalk.

  He spoke before I could. “Go stop Jessica and Angela before I have to track them down, too. I don’t think I could restrain myself if I ran into your other friends again.”

  I shivered at the threat in his voice.

  “Jess! Angela!” I yelled after them, waving when they turned. They rushed back to me, the pronounced relief on both their faces simultaneously changing to surprise as they saw who I was standing next to. They hesitated a few feet from us.

  “Where have you been?” Jessica’s voice was suspicious.

  “I got lost,” I admitted sheepishly. “And then I ran into Edward.” I gestured toward him.

  “Would it be all right if I joined you?” he asked in his silken, irresistible voice. I could see from their staggered expressions that he had never unleashed his talents on them before.

  “Er… sure,” Jessica breathed.

  “Um, actually, Bella, we already ate while we were waiting—sorry,” Angela confessed.

  “That’s fine—I’m not hungry.” I shrugged.

  “I think you should eat something.” Edward’s voice was low, but full of authority. He looked up at Jessica and spoke slightly louder. “Do you mind if I drive Bella home tonight? That way you won’t have to wait while she eats.”

  “Uh, no problem, I guess…” She bit her lip, trying to figure out from my expression whether that was what I wanted. I winked at her. I wanted nothing more than to be alone with my perpetual savior. There were so many questions that I couldn’t bombard him with till we were by ourselves.

  “Okay.” Angela was quicker than Jessica. “See you tomorrow, Bella… Edward.” She grabbed Jessica’s hand and pulled her toward the car, which I could see a little ways away, parked across First Street. As they got in, Jess turned and waved, her face eager with curiosity. I waved back, waiting for them to drive away before I turned to face him.

  “Honestly, I’m not hungry,” I insisted, looking up to scrutinize his face. His expression was unreadable.

  “Humor me.”

  He walked to the door of the restaurant and held it open with an obstinate expression. Obviously, there would be no further discussion. I walked past him into the restaurant with a resigned sigh.

  The restaurant wasn’t crowded—it was the off-season in Port Angeles. The host was female, and I understood the look in her eyes as she assessed Edward. She welcomed him a little more warmly than necessary. I was surprised by how much that bothered me. She was several inches taller than I was, and unnaturally blond.

  “A table for two?” His voice was alluring, whether he was aiming for that or not. I saw her eyes flicker to me and then away, satisfied by my obvious ordinariness, and by the cautious, no-contact space Edward kept between us. She led us to a table big enough for four in the center of the most crowded area of the dining floor.

  I was about to sit, but Edward shook his head at me.

  “Perhaps something more private?” he insisted quietly to the host. I wasn’t sure, but it looked like he smoothly handed her a tip. I’d never seen anyone refuse a table except in old movies.

  “Sure.” She sounded as surprised as I was. She turned and led us around a partition to a small ring of booths—all of them empty. “How’s this?”

  “Perfect.” He flashed his gleaming smile, dazing her momentarily.

  “Um”—she shook her head, blinking—“your server will be right out.” She walked away unsteadily.

  “You really shouldn’t do that to people,” I criticized. “It’s hardly fair.”

  “Do what?”

  “Dazzle them like that—she’s probably hyperventilating in the kitchen right now.”

  He seemed confused.

  “Oh, come on,” I said dubiously. “You have to know the effect you have on people.”

  He tilted his head to one side, and his eyes were curious. “I dazzle people?”

  “You haven’t noticed? Do you think everybody gets their way so easily?”

  He ignored my questions. “Do I dazzle you?”

  “Frequently,” I admitted.

  And then our server arrived, her face expectant. The hostess had definitely dished behind the scenes, and this new girl didn’t look disappointed. She flipped a strand of short black hair behind one ear and smiled with unnecessary warmth.

  “Hello. My name is Amber, and I’ll be your server tonight. What can I get you to drink?” I didn’t miss that she was speaking only to him.

  He looked at me.

  “I’ll have a Coke.” It sounded like a question.

  “Two Cokes,” he said.

  “I’ll be right back with that,” she assured him with another unnecessary smile. But he didn’t see it. He was watching me.

  “What?” I asked when she left.

  His eyes stayed fixed on my face. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine,” I replied, surprised by his intensity.

  “You don’t feel dizzy, sick, cold…?”

  “Should I?”

  He chuckled at my puzzled tone.

  “Well, I’m actually waiting for you to go into shock.” His face twisted up into that perfect crooked smile.

  “I don’t think that will happen,” I said after I could breathe again. “I’ve always been very good at repressing unpleasant things.”

  “Just the same, I’ll feel better when you have some sugar and food in you.”

  Right on cue, the waitress appeared with our drinks and a basket of breadsticks. She stood with her back to me as she placed them on the table.

  “Are you ready to order?” she asked Edward.

  “Bella?” he asked. She turned unwillingly toward me.

  I picked the first thing I saw on the menu. “Um… I’ll have the mushroom ravioli.”

  “And you?” She turned back to him with a smile.

  “Nothing for me,” he said. Of course not.
/>
  “Let me know if you change your mind.” The coy smile was still in place, but he wasn’t looking at her, and she left dissatisfied.

  “Drink,” he ordered.

  I sipped at my soda obediently, and then drank more deeply, surprised by how thirsty I was. I realized I had finished the whole thing when he pushed his glass toward me.

  “Thanks,” I muttered, still thirsty. The cold from the icy soda was radiating through my chest, and I shivered.

  “Are you cold?”

  “It’s just the Coke,” I explained, shivering again.

  “Don’t you have a jacket?” His voice was disapproving.

  “Yes.” I looked at the empty bench next to me. “Oh—I left it in Jessica’s car,” I realized.

  Edward was shrugging out of his jacket. I suddenly realized that I had never once noticed what he was wearing—not just tonight, but ever. I just couldn’t seem to look away from his face. I made myself look now, focusing. He was removing a light beige leather jacket now; underneath he wore an ivory turtleneck sweater. It fit him snugly, emphasizing how muscular his chest was.

  He handed me the jacket, interrupting my ogling.

  “Thanks,” I said again, sliding my arms into his jacket. It was cold—the way my jacket felt when I first picked it up in the morning, hanging in the drafty hallway. I shivered again. It smelled amazing. I inhaled, trying to identify the delicious scent. It didn’t smell like cologne. The sleeves were much too long; I shoved them back so I could free my hands.

  “That color blue looks lovely with your skin,” he said, watching me. I was surprised; I looked down, flushing, of course.

  He pushed the bread basket toward me.

  “Really, I’m not going into shock,” I protested.

  “You should be—a normal person would be. You don’t even look shaken.” He seemed unsettled. He stared into my eyes, and I saw how light his eyes were, lighter than I’d ever seen them, golden butterscotch.

  “I feel very safe with you,” I confessed, mesmerized into telling the truth again.

  That displeased him; his alabaster brow furrowed. He shook his head, frowning.

  “This is more complicated than I’d planned,” he murmured to himself.