Twilight Tenth Anniversary Edition

by Stephenie Meyer

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He smiled wistfully and released all of me but one hand. He led me a few feet through the tall, wet ferns and draping moss, around a massive hemlock tree, and we were there, on the edge of an enormous open field in the lap of the Olympic peaks. It was twice the size of any baseball stadium.

  I could see the others all there; Esme, Emmett, and Rosalie, sitting on a bare outcropping of rock, were the closest to us, maybe a hundred yards away. Much farther out I could see Jasper and Alice, at least a quarter of a mile apart, appearing to throw something back and forth, but I never saw any ball. It looked like Carlisle was marking bases, but could they really be that far apart?

  When we came into view, the three on the rocks rose. Esme started toward us. Emmett followed after a long look at Rosalie’s back; Rosalie had risen gracefully and strode off toward the field without a glance in our direction. My stomach quivered uneasily in response.

  “Was that you we heard, Edward?” Esme asked as she approached.

  “It sounded like a bear choking,” Emmett clarified.

  I smiled hesitantly at Esme. “That was him.”

  “Bella was being unintentionally funny,” Edward explained, quickly settling the score.

  Alice had left her position and was running, or dancing, toward us. She hurtled to a fluid stop at our feet. “It’s time,” she announced.

  As soon as she spoke, a deep rumble of thunder shook the forest beyond us, and then crashed westward toward town.

  “Eerie, isn’t it?” Emmett said with easy familiarity, winking at me.

  “Let’s go.” Alice reached for Emmett’s hand and they darted toward the oversized field; she ran like a gazelle. He was nearly as graceful and just as fast—yet Emmett could never be compared to a gazelle.

  “Are you ready for some ball?” Edward asked, his eyes eager, bright.

  I tried to sound appropriately enthusiastic. “Go team!”

  He snickered and, after mussing my hair, bounded off after the other two. His run was more aggressive, a cheetah rather than a gazelle, and he quickly overtook them. The grace and power took my breath away.

  “Shall we go down?” Esme asked in her soft, melodic voice, and I realized I was staring openmouthed after him. I quickly reassembled my expression and nodded. Esme kept a few feet between us, and I wondered if she was still being careful not to frighten me. She matched her stride to mine without seeming impatient at the pace.

  “You don’t play with them?” I asked shyly.

  “No, I prefer to referee—I like keeping them honest,” she explained.

  “Do they like to cheat, then?”

  “Oh yes—you should hear the arguments they get into! Actually, I hope you don’t, you would think they were raised by a pack of wolves.”

  “You sound like my mom,” I laughed, surprised.

  She laughed, too. “Well, I do think of them as my children in most ways. I never could get over my mothering instincts—did Edward tell you I had lost a child?”

  “No,” I murmured, stunned, scrambling to understand what lifetime she was remembering.

  “Yes, my first and only baby. He died just a few days after he was born, the poor tiny thing,” she sighed. “It broke my heart—that’s why I jumped off the cliff, you know,” she added matter-of-factly.

  “Edward just said you f-fell,” I stammered.

  “Always the gentleman.” She smiled. “Edward was the first of my new sons. I’ve always thought of him that way, even though he’s older than I, in one way at least.” She smiled at me warmly. “That’s why I’m so happy that he’s found you, dear.” The endearment sounded very natural on her lips. “He’s been the odd man out for far too long; it’s hurt me to see him alone.”

  “You don’t mind, then?” I asked, hesitant again. “That I’m… all wrong for him?”

  “No.” She was thoughtful. “You’re what he wants. It will work out, somehow,” she said, though her forehead creased with worry. Another peal of thunder began.

  Esme stopped then; apparently, we’d reached the edge of the field. It looked as if they had formed teams. Edward was far out in left field, Carlisle stood between the first and second bases, and Alice held the ball, positioned on the spot that must be the pitcher’s mound.

  Emmett was swinging an aluminum bat; it whistled almost untraceably through the air. I waited for him to approach home plate, but then I realized, as he took his stance, that he was already there—farther from the pitcher’s mound than I would have thought possible. Jasper stood several feet behind him, catching for the other team. Of course, none of them had gloves.

  “All right,” Esme called in a clear voice, which I knew even Edward would hear, as far out as he was. “Batter up.”

  Alice stood straight, deceptively motionless. Her style seemed to be stealth rather than an intimidating windup. She held the ball in both hands at her waist, and then, like the strike of a cobra, her right hand flicked out and the ball smacked into Jasper’s hand.

  “Was that a strike?” I whispered to Esme.

  “If they don’t hit it, it’s a strike,” she told me.

  Jasper hurled the ball back to Alice’s waiting hand. She permitted herself a brief grin. And then her hand spun out again.

  This time the bat somehow made it around in time to smash into the invisible ball. The crack of impact was shattering, thunderous; it echoed off the mountains—I immediately understood the necessity of the thunderstorm.

  The ball shot like a meteor above the field, flying deep into the surrounding forest.

  “Home run,” I murmured.

  “Wait,” Esme cautioned, listening intently, one hand raised. Emmett was a blur around the bases, Carlisle shadowing him. I realized Edward was missing.

  “Out!” Esme cried in a clear voice. I stared in disbelief as Edward sprang from the fringe of the trees, ball in his upraised hand, his wide grin visible even to me.

  “Emmett hits the hardest,” Esme explained, “but Edward runs the fastest.”

  The inning continued before my incredulous eyes. It was impossible to keep up with the speed at which the ball flew, the rate at which their bodies raced around the field.

  I learned the other reason they waited for a thunderstorm to play when Jasper, trying to avoid Edward’s infallible fielding, hit a ground ball toward Carlisle. Carlisle ran into the ball, and then raced Jasper to first base. When they collided, the sound was like the crash of two massive falling boulders. I jumped up in concern, but they were somehow unscathed.

  “Safe,” Esme called in a calm voice.

  Emmett’s team was up by one—Rosalie managed to flit around the bases after tagging up on one of Emmett’s long flies—when Edward caught the third out. He sprinted to my side, sparkling with excitement.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “One thing’s for sure, I’ll never be able to sit through dull old Major League Baseball again.”

  “And it sounds like you did so much of that before,” he laughed.

  “I am a little disappointed,” I teased.

  “Why?” he asked, puzzled.

  “Well, it would be nice if I could find just one thing you didn’t do better than everyone else on the planet.”

  He flashed his special crooked smile, leaving me breathless.

  “I’m up,” he said, heading for the plate.

  He played intelligently, keeping the ball low, out of the reach of Rosalie’s always-ready hand in the outfield, gaining two bases like lightning before Emmett could get the ball back in play. Carlisle knocked one so far out of the field—with a boom that hurt my ears—that he and Edward both made it in. Alice slapped them dainty high fives.

  The score constantly changed as the game continued, and they razzed each other like any street ballplayers as they took turns with the lead. Occasionally Esme would call them to order. The thunder rumbled on, but we stayed dry, as Alice had predicted.

  Carlisle was up to bat, Edward catching,
when Alice suddenly gasped. My eyes were on Edward, as usual, and I saw his head snap up to look at her. Their eyes met and something flowed between them in an instant. He was at my side before the others could ask Alice what was wrong.

  “Alice?” Esme’s voice was tense.

  “I didn’t see—I couldn’t tell,” she whispered.

  All the others were gathered by this time.

  “What is it, Alice?” Carlisle asked with the calm voice of authority.

  “They were traveling much quicker than I thought. I can see I had the perspective wrong before,” she murmured.

  Jasper leaned over her, his posture protective. “What changed?” he asked.

  “They heard us playing, and it changed their path,” she said, contrite, as if she felt responsible for whatever had frightened her.

  Seven pairs of quick eyes flashed to my face and away.

  “How soon?” Carlisle said, turning toward Edward.

  A look of intense concentration crossed his face.

  “Less than five minutes. They’re running—they want to play.” He scowled.

  “Can you make it?” Carlisle asked him, his eyes flicking toward me again.

  “No, not carrying—” He cut short. “Besides, the last thing we need is for them to catch the scent and start hunting.”

  “How many?” Emmett asked Alice.

  “Three,” she answered tersely.

  “Three!” he scoffed. “Let them come.” The steel bands of muscle flexed along his massive arms.

  For a split second that seemed much longer than it really was, Carlisle deliberated. Only Emmett seemed unperturbed; the rest stared at Carlisle’s face with anxious eyes.

  “Let’s just continue the game,” Carlisle finally decided. His voice was cool and level. “Alice said they were simply curious.”

  All this was said in a flurry of words that lasted only a few seconds. I had listened carefully and caught most of it, though I couldn’t hear what Esme now asked Edward with a silent vibration of her lips. I only saw the slight shake of his head and the look of relief on her face.

  “You catch, Esme,” he said. “I’ll call it now.” And he planted himself in front of me.

  The others returned to the field, warily sweeping the dark forest with their sharp eyes. Alice and Esme seemed to orient themselves around where I stood.

  “Take your hair down,” Edward said in a low, even voice.

  I obediently slid the rubber band out of my hair and shook it out around me.

  I stated the obvious. “The others are coming now.”

  “Yes, stay very still, keep quiet, and don’t move from my side, please.” He hid the stress in his voice well, but I could hear it. He pulled my long hair forward, around my face.

  “That won’t help,” Alice said softly. “I could smell her across the field.”

  “I know.” A hint of frustration colored his tone.

  Carlisle stood at the plate, and the others joined the game halfheartedly.

  “What did Esme ask you?” I whispered.

  He hesitated for a second before he answered. “Whether they were thirsty,” he muttered unwillingly.

  The seconds ticked by; the game progressed with apathy now. No one dared to hit harder than a bunt, and Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper hovered in the infield. Now and again, despite the fear that numbed my brain, I was aware of Rosalie’s eyes on me. They were expressionless, but something about the way she held her mouth made me think she was angry.

  Edward paid no attention to the game at all, eyes and mind ranging the forest.

  “I’m sorry, Bella,” he muttered fiercely. “It was stupid, irresponsible, to expose you like this. I’m so sorry.”

  I heard his breath stop, and his eyes zeroed in on right field. He took a half step, angling himself between me and what was coming.

  Carlisle, Emmett, and the others turned in the same direction, hearing sounds of passage much too faint for my ears.

  18. THE HUNT

  THEY EMERGED ONE BY ONE FROM THE FOREST EDGE, RANGING A DOZEN meters apart. The first male into the clearing fell back immediately, allowing the other male to take the front, orienting himself around the tall, dark-haired man in a manner that clearly displayed who led the pack. The third was a woman; from this distance, all I could see of her was that her hair was a startling shade of red.

  They closed ranks before they continued cautiously toward Edward’s family, exhibiting the natural respect of a troop of predators as it encounters a larger, unfamiliar group of its own kind.

  As they approached, I could see how different they were from the Cullens. Their walk was catlike, a gait that seemed constantly on the edge of shifting into a crouch. They dressed in the ordinary gear of backpackers: jeans and casual button-down shirts in heavy, weatherproof fabrics. The clothes were frayed, though, with wear, and they were barefoot. Both men had cropped hair, but the woman’s brilliant orange hair was filled with leaves and debris from the woods.

  Their sharp eyes carefully took in the more polished, urbane stance of Carlisle, who, flanked by Emmett and Jasper, stepped guardedly forward to meet them. Without any seeming communication between them, they each straightened into a more casual, erect bearing.

  The man in front was easily the most beautiful, his skin olive-toned beneath the typical pallor, his hair a glossy black. He was of a medium build, hard-muscled, of course, but nothing next to Emmett’s brawn. He smiled an easy smile, exposing a flash of gleaming white teeth.

  The woman was wilder, her eyes shifting restlessly between the men facing her, and the loose grouping around me, her chaotic hair quivering in the slight breeze. Her posture was distinctly feline. The second male hovered unobtrusively behind them, slighter than the leader, his light brown hair and regular features both nondescript. His eyes, though completely still, somehow seemed the most vigilant.

  Their eyes were different, too. Not the gold or black I had come to expect, but a deep burgundy color that was disturbing and sinister.

  The dark-haired man, still smiling, stepped toward Carlisle.

  “We thought we heard a game,” he said in a relaxed voice with the slightest of French accents. “I’m Laurent, these are Victoria and James.” He gestured to the vampires beside him.

  “I’m Carlisle. This is my family, Emmett and Jasper, Rosalie, Esme and Alice, Edward and Bella.” He pointed us out in groups, deliberately not calling attention to individuals. I felt a shock when he said my name.

  “Do you have room for a few more players?” Laurent asked sociably.

  Carlisle matched Laurent’s friendly tone. “Actually, we were just finishing up. But we’d certainly be interested another time. Are you planning to stay in the area for long?”

  “We’re headed north, in fact, but we were curious to see who was in the neighborhood. We haven’t run into any company in a long time.”

  “No, this region is usually empty except for us and the occasional visitor, like yourselves.”

  The tense atmosphere had slowly subsided into a casual conversation; I guessed that Jasper was using his peculiar gift to control the situation.

  “What’s your hunting range?” Laurent casually inquired.

  Carlisle ignored the assumption behind the inquiry. “The Olympic Range here, up and down the Coast Ranges on occasion. We keep a permanent residence nearby. There’s another permanent settlement like ours up near Denali.”

  Laurent rocked back on his heels slightly.

  “Permanent? How do you manage that?” There was honest curiosity in his voice.

  “Why don’t you come back to our home with us and we can talk comfortably?” Carlisle invited. “It’s a rather long story.”

  James and Victoria exchanged a surprised look at the mention of the word “home,” but Laurent controlled his expression better.

  “That sounds very interesting, and welcome.” His smile was genial. “We’ve been on the hunt all the way down from Ontario, and we haven’t had the chance to clean up
in a while.” His eyes moved appreciatively over Carlisle’s refined appearance.

  “Please don’t take offense, but we’d appreciate it if you’d refrain from hunting in this immediate area. We have to stay inconspicuous, you understand,” Carlisle explained.

  “Of course.” Laurent nodded. “We certainly won’t encroach on your territory. We just ate outside of Seattle, anyway,” he laughed. A shiver ran up my spine.

  “We’ll show you the way if you’d like to run with us—Emmett and Alice, you can go with Edward and Bella to get the Jeep,” he casually added.

  Three things seemed to happen simultaneously while Carlisle was speaking. My hair ruffled with the light breeze, Edward stiffened, and the second male, James, suddenly whipped his head around, scrutinizing me, his nostrils flaring.

  A swift rigidity fell on all of them as James lurched one step forward into a crouch. Edward bared his teeth, crouching in defense, a feral snarl ripping from his throat. It was nothing like the playful sounds I’d heard from him this morning; it was the single most menacing thing I had ever heard, and chills ran from the crown of my head to the back of my heels.

  “What’s this?” Laurent exclaimed in open surprise. Neither James nor Edward relaxed their aggressive poses. James feinted slightly to the side, and Edward shifted in response.

  “She’s with us.” Carlisle’s firm rebuff was directed toward James. Laurent seemed to catch my scent less powerfully than James, but awareness now dawned on his face.

  “You brought a snack?” he asked, his expression incredulous as he took an involuntary step forward.

  Edward snarled even more ferociously, harshly, his lip curling high above his glistening, bared teeth. Laurent stepped back again.

  “I said she’s with us,” Carlisle corrected in a hard voice.

  “But she’s human,” Laurent protested. The words were not at all aggressive, merely astounded.

  “Yes.” Emmett was very much in evidence at Carlisle’s side, his eyes on James. James slowly straightened out of his crouch, but his eyes never left me, his nostrils still wide. Edward stayed tensed like a lion in front of me.

  When Laurent spoke, his tone was soothing—trying to defuse the sudden hostility. “It appears we have a lot to learn about each other.”