Twilight Tenth Anniversary Edition

by Stephenie Meyer

  “Would you mind, very much, if I left a little letter of my own for your Edward?”

  He took a step back and touched a palm-sized digital video camera balanced carefully on top of the stereo. A small red light indicated that it was already running. He adjusted it a few times, widened the frame. I stared at him in horror.

  “I’m sorry, but I just don’t think he’ll be able to resist hunting me after he watches this. And I wouldn’t want him to miss anything. It was all for him, of course. You’re simply a human, who unfortunately was in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and indisputably running with the wrong crowd, I might add.”

  He stepped toward me, smiling. “Before we begin…”

  I felt a curl of nausea in the pit of my stomach as he spoke. This was something I had not anticipated.

  “I would just like to rub it in, just a little bit. The answer was there all along, and I was so afraid Edward would see that and ruin my fun. It happened once, oh, ages ago. The one and only time my prey escaped me.

  “You see, the vampire who was so stupidly fond of this little victim made the choice that your Edward was too weak to make. When the old one knew I was after his little friend, he stole her from the asylum where he worked—I never will understand the obsession some vampires seem to form with you humans—and as soon as he freed her he made her safe. She didn’t even seem to notice the pain, poor little creature. She’d been stuck in that black hole of a cell for so long. A hundred years earlier and she would have been burned at the stake for her visions. In the nineteen-twenties it was the asylum and the shock treatments. When she opened her eyes, strong with her fresh youth, it was like she’d never seen the sun before. The old vampire made her a strong new vampire, and there was no reason for me to touch her then.” He sighed. “I destroyed the old one in vengeance.”

  “Alice,” I breathed, astonished.

  “Yes, your little friend. I was surprised to see her in the clearing. So I guess her coven ought to be able to derive some comfort from this experience. I get you, but they get her. The one victim who escaped me, quite an honor, actually.

  “And she did smell so delicious. I still regret that I never got to taste… She smelled even better than you do. Sorry—I don’t mean to be offensive. You have a very nice smell. Floral, somehow…”

  He took another step toward me, till he was just inches away. He lifted a lock of my hair and sniffed at it delicately. Then he gently patted the strand back into place, and I felt his cool fingertips against my throat. He reached up to stroke my cheek once quickly with his thumb, his face curious. I wanted so badly to run, but I was frozen. I couldn’t even flinch away.

  “No,” he murmured to himself as he dropped his hand, “I don’t understand.” He sighed. “Well, I suppose we should get on with it. And then I can call your friends and tell them where to find you, and my little message.”

  I was definitely sick now. There was pain coming, I could see it in his eyes. It wouldn’t be enough for him to win, to feed and go. There would be no quick end like I’d been counting on. My knees began to shake, and I was afraid I was going to fall.

  He stepped back, and began to circle, casually, as if he were trying to get a better view of a statue in a museum. His face was still open and friendly as he decided where to start.

  Then he slumped forward, into a crouch I recognized, and his pleasant smile slowly widened, grew, till it wasn’t a smile at all but a contortion of teeth, exposed and glistening.

  I couldn’t help myself—I tried to run. As useless as I knew it would be, as weak as my knees already were, panic took over and I bolted for the emergency door.

  He was in front of me in a flash. I didn’t see if he used his hand or his foot, it was too fast. A crushing blow struck my chest—I felt myself flying backward, and then heard the crunch as my head bashed into the mirrors. The glass buckled, some of the pieces shattering and splintering on the floor beside me.

  I was too stunned to feel the pain. I couldn’t breathe yet.

  He walked toward me slowly.

  “That’s a very nice effect,” he said, examining the mess of glass, his voice friendly again. “I thought this room would be visually dramatic for my little film. That’s why I picked this place to meet you. It’s perfect, isn’t it?”

  I ignored him, scrambling on my hands and knees, crawling toward the other door.

  He was over me at once, his foot stepping down hard on my leg. I heard the sickening snap before I felt it. But then I did feel it, and I couldn’t hold back my scream of agony. I twisted up to reach for my leg, and he was standing over me, smiling.

  “Would you like to rethink your last request?” he asked pleasantly. His toe nudged my broken leg and I heard a piercing scream. With a shock, I realized it was mine.

  “Wouldn’t you rather have Edward try to find me?” he prompted.

  “No!” I croaked. “No, Edward, don’t—” And then something smashed into my face, throwing me back into the broken mirrors.

  Over the pain of my leg, I felt the sharp rip across my scalp where the glass cut into it. And then the warm wetness began to spread through my hair with alarming speed. I could feel it soaking the shoulder of my shirt, hear it dripping on the wood below. The smell of it twisted my stomach.

  Through the nausea and dizziness I saw something that gave me a sudden, final shred of hope. His eyes, merely intent before, now burned with an uncontrollable need. The blood—spreading crimson across my white shirt, pooling rapidly on the floor—was driving him mad with thirst. No matter his original intentions, he couldn’t draw this out much longer.

  Let it be quick now, was all I could hope as the flow of blood from my head sucked my consciousness away with it. My eyes were closing.

  I heard, as if from underwater, the final growl of the hunter. I could see, through the long tunnels my eyes had become, his dark shape coming toward me. With my last effort, my hand instinctively raised to protect my face. My eyes closed, and I drifted.

  23. THE ANGEL

  AS I DRIFTED, I DREAMED.

  Where I floated, under the dark water, I heard the happiest sound my mind could conjure up—as beautiful, as uplifting, as it was ghastly. It was another snarl; a deeper, wilder roar that rang with fury.

  I was brought back, almost to the surface, by a sharp pain slashing my upraised hand, but I couldn’t find my way back far enough to open my eyes.

  And then I knew I was dead.

  Because, through the heavy water, I heard the sound of an angel calling my name, calling me to the only heaven I wanted.

  “Oh no, Bella, no!” the angel’s voice cried in horror.

  Behind that longed-for sound was another noise—an awful tumult that my mind shied away from. A vicious bass growling, a shocking snapping sound, and a high keening, suddenly breaking off…

  I tried to concentrate on the angel’s voice instead.

  “Bella, please! Bella, listen to me, please, please, Bella, please!” he begged.

  Yes, I wanted to say. Anything. But I couldn’t find my lips.

  “Carlisle!” the angel called, agony in his perfect voice. “Bella, Bella, no, oh please, no, no!” And the angel was sobbing tearless, broken sobs.

  The angel shouldn’t weep, it was wrong. I tried to find him, to tell him everything was fine, but the water was so deep, it was pressing on me, and I couldn’t breathe.

  There was a point of pressure against my head. It hurt. Then, as that pain broke through the darkness to me, other pains came, stronger pains. I cried out, gasping, breaking through the dark pool.

  “Bella!” the angel cried.

  “She’s lost some blood, but the head wound isn’t deep,” a calm voice informed me. “Watch out for her leg, it’s broken.”

  A howl of rage strangled on the angel’s lips.

  I felt a sharp stab in my side. This couldn’t be heaven, could it? There was too much pain for that.

  “Some ribs, too, I think,” the methodical voice continued.


  But the sharp pains were fading. There was a new pain, a scalding pain in my hand that was overshadowing everything else.

  Someone was burning me.

  “Edward.” I tried to tell him, but my voice was so heavy and slow. I couldn’t understand myself.

  “Bella, you’re going to be fine. Can you hear me, Bella? I love you.”

  “Edward,” I tried again. My voice was a little clearer.

  “Yes, I’m here.”

  “It hurts,” I whimpered.

  “I know, Bella, I know”—and then, away from me, anguished—“can’t you do anything?”

  “My bag, please.… Hold your breath, Alice, it will help,” Carlisle promised.

  “Alice?” I groaned.

  “She’s here, she knew where to find you.”

  “My hand hurts,” I tried to tell him.

  “I know, Bella. Carlisle will give you something, it will stop.”

  “My hand is burning!” I screamed, finally breaking through the last of the darkness, my eyes fluttering open. I couldn’t see his face, something dark and warm was clouding my eyes. Why couldn’t they see the fire and put it out?

  His voice was frightened. “Bella?”

  “The fire! Someone stop the fire!” I screamed as it burned me.

  “Carlisle! Her hand!”

  “He bit her.” Carlisle’s voice was no longer calm, it was appalled.

  I heard Edward catch his breath in horror.

  “Edward, you have to do it.” It was Alice’s voice, close by my head. Cool fingers brushed at the wetness in my eyes.

  “No!” he bellowed.

  “Alice,” I moaned.

  “There may be a chance,” Carlisle said.

  “What?” Edward begged.

  “See if you can suck the venom back out. The wound is fairly clean.” As Carlisle spoke, I could feel more pressure on my head, something poking and pulling at my scalp. The pain of it was lost in the pain of the fire.

  “Will that work?” Alice’s voice was strained.

  “I don’t know,” Carlisle said. “But we have to hurry.”

  “Carlisle, I…” Edward hesitated. “I don’t know if I can do that.” There was agony in his beautiful voice again.

  “It’s your decision, Edward, either way. I can’t help you. I have to get this bleeding stopped here if you’re going to be taking blood from her hand.”

  I writhed in the grip of the fiery torture, the movement making the pain in my leg flare sickeningly.

  “Edward!” I screamed. I realized my eyes were closed again. I opened them, desperate to find his face. And I found him. Finally, I could see his perfect face, staring at me, twisted into a mask of indecision and pain.

  “Alice, get me something to brace her leg!” Carlisle was bent over me, working on my head. “Edward, you must do it now, or it will be too late.”

  Edward’s face was drawn. I watched his eyes as the doubt was suddenly replaced with a blazing determination. His jaw tightened. I felt his cool, strong fingers on my burning hand, locking it in place. Then his head bent over it, and his cold lips pressed against my skin.

  At first the pain was worse. I screamed and thrashed against the cool hands that held me back. I heard Alice’s voice, trying to calm me. Something heavy held my leg to the floor, and Carlisle had my head locked in the vise of his stone arms.

  Then, slowly, my writhing calmed as my hand grew more and more numb. The fire was dulling, focusing into an ever-smaller point.

  I felt my consciousness slipping as the pain subsided. I was afraid to fall into the black waters again, afraid I would lose him in the darkness.

  “Edward,” I tried to say, but I couldn’t hear my voice. They could hear me.

  “He’s right here, Bella.”

  “Stay, Edward, stay with me.…”

  “I will.” His voice was strained, but somehow triumphant.

  I sighed contentedly. The fire was gone, the other pains dulled by a sleepiness seeping through my body.

  “Is it all out?” Carlisle asked from somewhere far away.

  “Her blood tastes clean,” Edward said quietly. “I can taste the morphine.”

  “Bella?” Carlisle called to me.

  I tried to answer. “Mmmmm?”

  “Is the fire gone?”

  “Yes,” I sighed. “Thank you, Edward.”

  “I love you,” he answered.

  “I know,” I breathed, so tired.

  I heard my favorite sound in the world: Edward’s quiet laugh, weak with relief.

  “Bella?” Carlisle asked again.

  I frowned; I wanted to sleep. “What?”

  “Where is your mother?”

  “In Florida,” I sighed. “He tricked me, Edward. He watched our videos.” The outrage in my voice was pitifully frail.

  But that reminded me.

  “Alice.” I tried to open my eyes. “Alice, the video—he knew you, Alice, he knew where you came from.” I meant to speak urgently, but my voice was feeble. “I smell gasoline,” I added, surprised through the haze in my brain.

  “It’s time to move her,” Carlisle said.

  “No, I want to sleep,” I complained.

  “You can sleep, sweetheart, I’ll carry you,” Edward soothed me.

  And I was in his arms, cradled against his chest—floating, all the pain gone.

  “Sleep now, Bella” were the last words I heard.

  24. AN IMPASSE

  MY EYES OPENED TO A BRIGHT, WHITE LIGHT. I WAS IN AN UNFAMILIAR room, a white room. The wall beside me was covered in long vertical blinds; over my head, the glaring lights blinded me. I was propped up on a hard, uneven bed—a bed with rails. The pillows were flat and lumpy. There was an annoying beeping sound somewhere close by. I hoped that meant I was still alive. Death shouldn’t be this uncomfortable.

  My hands were all twisted up with clear tubes, and something was taped across my face, under my nose. I lifted my hand to rip it off.

  “No, you don’t.” And cool fingers caught my hand.

  “Edward?” I turned my head slightly, and his exquisite face was just inches from mine, his chin resting on the edge of my pillow. I realized again that I was alive, this time with gratitude and elation. “Oh, Edward, I’m so sorry!”

  “Shhhh,” he shushed me. “Everything’s all right now.”

  “What happened?” I couldn’t remember clearly, and my mind rebelled against me as I tried to recall.

  “I was almost too late. I could have been too late,” he whispered, his voice tormented.

  “I was so stupid, Edward. I thought he had my mom.”

  “He tricked us all.”

  “I need to call Charlie and my mom,” I realized through the haze.

  “Alice called them. Renée is here—well, here in the hospital. She’s getting something to eat right now.”

  “She’s here?” I tried to sit up, but the spinning in my head accelerated, and his hand pushed me gently down onto the pillows.

  “She’ll be back soon,” he promised. “And you need to stay still.”

  “But what did you tell her?” I panicked. I had no interest in being soothed. My mom was here and I was recovering from a vampire attack. “Why did you tell her I’m here?”

  “You fell down two flights of stairs and through a window.” He paused. “You have to admit, it could happen.”

  I sighed, and it hurt. I stared down at my body under the sheet, the huge lump that was my leg.

  “How bad am I?” I asked.

  “You have a broken leg, four broken ribs, some cracks in your skull, bruises covering every inch of your skin, and you’ve lost a lot of blood. They gave you a few transfusions. I didn’t like it—it made you smell all wrong for a while.”

  “That must have been a nice change for you.”

  “No, I like how you smell.”

  “How did you do it?” I asked quietly. He knew what I meant at once.

  “I’m not sure.” He looked away from
my wondering eyes, lifting my gauze-wrapped hand from the bed and holding it gently in his, careful not to disrupt the wire connecting me to one of the monitors.

  I waited patiently for the rest.

  He sighed without returning my gaze. “It was impossible… to stop,” he whispered. “Impossible. But I did.” He looked up finally, with half a smile. “I must love you.”

  “Don’t I taste as good as I smell?” I smiled in response. That hurt my face.

  “Even better—better than I’d imagined.”

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized.

  He raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Of all the things to apologize for.”

  “What should I apologize for?”

  “For very nearly taking yourself away from me forever.”

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized again.

  “I know why you did it.” His voice was comforting. “It was still irrational, of course. You should have waited for me, you should have told me.”

  “You wouldn’t have let me go.”

  “No,” he agreed in a grim tone, “I wouldn’t.”

  Some very unpleasant memories were beginning to come back to me. I shuddered, and then winced.

  He was instantly anxious. “Bella, what’s wrong?”

  “What happened to James?”

  “After I pulled him off you, Emmett and Jasper took care of him.” There was a fierce note of regret in his voice.

  This confused me. “I didn’t see Emmett and Jasper there.”

  “They had to leave the room… there was a lot of blood.”

  “But you stayed.”

  “Yes, I stayed.”

  “And Alice, and Carlisle…,” I said in wonder.

  “They love you, too, you know.”

  A flash of painful images from the last time I’d seen Alice reminded me of something. “Did Alice see the tape?” I asked anxiously.

  “Yes.” A new sound darkened his voice, a tone of sheer hatred.

  “She was always in the dark, that’s why she didn’t remember.”

  “I know. She understands now.” His voice was even, but his face was black with fury.