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暮光之城2：新月|New Moon

第二章：缝针|Chapter 2 Stitches

属类： 双语小说 【分类】魔幻小说 -[作者: 斯蒂芬妮-梅耶] 阅读：[8629]
《暮光之城》是美国作家斯蒂芬妮·梅尔 （Stephenie Meyer）写的系列小说，包括《暮色》、《新月》、《月食》、《破晓》以及番外《布里·坦纳第二次短暂生命》、《暮色重生》和《午夜阳光》。《暮光之城》系列以伊莎贝拉·斯旺和爱德华·卡伦一对苦命鸳鸯的情感纠葛为主线，融合了吸血鬼传说、狼人故事、校园生活、恐怖悬念、喜剧冒险等各种元素，而凄美动人的爱情则是全书“最强烈的情绪”。
《 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 》
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罗莎莉女神般的脸庞带着沾沾自喜的古怪表情，她走到贾斯帕面前――小心翼翼地与他的牙齿保持一定的距离――帮助埃美特把他拖出埃斯梅为他们打开的门，埃斯梅一直用手捂着自己的嘴巴和鼻子。

1
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他摇了摇头："伤口中的玻璃太多了。"他伸出手，从白色的桌布底部撕下一条细长的带子，把它绑在我肘部上方的胳膊上，形成一个止血带。血的味道令我眩晕，耳朵嗡嗡作响。"贝拉，"卡莱尔轻声说道，"你要我送你去医院呢，还是要我在这里处理伤口呢？"

2
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"在这儿，求你了。"我低声说道。要是他送我去医院的话，就没办法不让查理知道这件事情了。

3
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"我去拿你的包。"爱丽丝说道。

4
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"我们一块儿把她带到厨房的餐桌那儿去吧。"卡莱尔对爱德华说道。

5
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爱德华毫不费力地把我背了起来，卡莱尔则在一旁牢牢地按住我的胳膊。

6
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"你还好吗，贝拉？"卡莱尔问道。

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"我很好。"我的声音相当地坚定，这让我感到很放心。

8
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爱德华的脸像石头一样。

9
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爱丽丝也在那儿，卡莱尔的黑色工具包已经放在桌子上了，一张小巧明亮的小桌灯镶嵌在墙壁上。爱德华轻轻地扶着我坐在椅子上，卡莱尔拖过另一张椅子，立即开始工作了爱德华站在我身旁，仍然保持着保护的姿态，他还是没在呼吸。

10
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"还是走吧，爱德华。"我叹了叹气。

11
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"我能应付。"他坚持道，但是他的下巴僵硬；眼睛里浮现出与强烈的渴望作斗争的痛苦神情，这种痛苦来得比其他人更强烈，更糟糕。

12
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"你别逞强，"我说道，"卡莱尔没有你的帮助也能把我的伤口处理好。出去呼吸一下新鲜空气吧。"

13
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卡莱尔往我的胳膊上擦了种令人刺痛的东西，我胳膊一缩。

14
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"我要留在这儿。"他说道。

15
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"你为什么要如此自我虐待呢？"我喃喃自语道。

16
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卡莱尔决定充当和事老了："爱德华，在贾斯帕过于自责之前，你不妨过去看看他，我确信他现在正在生自己的气呢，我怀疑现在除了你之外，他听不进别人的话。"

17
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"对啊，"我迫不及待地表示同意，"去看看贾斯帕。"

18
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"你不妨做些有意义的事情。"爱丽丝补充道。

19
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当我们联合起来反对他的时候，爱德华的眼睛眯了起来，但是，最后他马上点了点头，旋即小跑着从厨房的后门出去了。我确定从我划伤手指头的那一刻起他就没有吸过一口气。

20
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一阵麻木、疲惫的感觉在我的胳膊上蔓延开来。尽管这消除了刺痛的感觉，却让我想起那道深深的伤疤，我端详着卡莱尔的脸，使自己不要注意他用手正在做的事情。他低着头专心地处理我胳膊上的伤口，头发在明亮的灯光下闪闪发光。我能感觉到激动的情绪隐隐约约地在我心中升起，但我下定决心不要让平时恶心的感觉战胜我的理智。现在没有疼痛了，只有我努力忽略的轻柔的牵引感。我没道理像个孩子似的感到难受。

21
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要是爱丽丝没出现在我的视线中，我根本不会注意到她也放弃了，偷偷地跑出了房间。她嘴角带着些许歉意的笑容消失在厨房门口。

22
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"好吧，每个人都这样，"我叹了叹气，"我会清扫房屋，至少要这样。"

23
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"这不是你的错，"卡莱尔轻声地安慰我说，"这种事情会发生在每个人身上。"

24
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"会，"我重复道，"但是这种事情老是发生在我身上。"

25
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他又笑了起来。

26
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他从容自若的反应与其他人的反应形成了惊人的强烈反差，我在他脸上找不到丝毫的焦虑。他的手敏捷自如、游刃有余地活动着。除了我们轻轻的呼吸声之外，房间里唯一的声音就是小小的玻璃碎片一片一片地落在桌子上时发出来的轻轻的"叮铃，叮铃"声。

27
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"你是如何做到现在这样的？"我询问道，"甚至连爱丽丝和埃斯梅……"我的声音逐渐变小，好奇地摇着头。尽管其他人已经放弃了吸血鬼的传统食谱，其彻底程度和卡莱尔一样，但是卡莱尔是唯一能够忍受我的血液味道而不需承受抵抗强烈诱惑之苦的人。显然，这比他表现出来的要难得多。

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"很多年，很多年操练的结果，"他告诉我，"我几乎闻不到这种味道了。"

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"要是你从医院里长时间的休假，你认为会更难做到吗？要是周围没有任何血腥味？"

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"或许吧，"他耸了耸肩，但是他的手还是很稳定，"我从来没觉得需要延长假期。"他冲着我露出一个灿烂的微笑，"我太喜欢我的工作了。"

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叮铃，，叮铃，叮铃。我惊讶地发现居然有那么多的玻璃碎片刺进了我的胳膊。我有种偷偷地看一眼桌上堆起来的玻璃碎片的冲动，只是想看看到底有多大一堆，但是我知道这个想法对我抵抗呕吐的策略没多少帮助。

32
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"你到底喜欢做什么事情呢？"我好奇地问道。他一定经历了多年的挣扎和自我否定才做到轻松地承受住这种诱惑――而这些对我而言都没有意义。此外，我想让他一直说话；这样的谈话会使我的注意力从反胃上移开。

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他回答我的时候，黝黑的眼眸流露出镇定自若，深思熟虑的神情来："呃，我最喜欢做的事情就是当我的……提高了的能力使我挽救他人，不然的话，他们就会丧命。多亏了我能做的事情，有些人的生活因为我的存在而变得更好，了解到这一点是很开心的事。很多时候，甚至连嗅觉也是一种有用的诊断工具。"他向一侧扬起嘴角，露出半个笑容。

34
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他随意寻找着，以确保所有的玻璃碎片都被清理干净了，而我则仔细地思考着他说的话。接着他在他的工具包里到处翻找新工具，我努力不去注意针和线。

35
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"你非常努力地弥补那些与你无关的过错，"当一种新的牵引感在我皮肤的边缘升起的时候，我间接地解释道，"我的意思是，并不是你自己想要成为这样的。你并没有自己选择这种生活，然而你却要如此努力地克制自己。"

36
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"我不知道我在弥补什么，"他继续说道，语气中夹杂着些许不认同，"就像生活中的一切一样，只是我不得得确定该如何应对生活赠予我的一切。"

37
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"这听起来太容易了。"

38
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他再次检查了我的胳膊："好了，"他边说边剪断一根线，"全好了。"他把一种糖浆色的液体涂在创伤面上，形成一个超大的Q型图形。这种味道很奇怪，令我的头一阵眩晕。糖浆一样的东西在我的皮肤上留下一层颜色。

39
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"尽管，在刚开始时，"此时，卡莱尔又抽出一条长长的绷带牢固地绑在伤口上，然后紧紧地绑在我的皮肤上。我强调道："那么，你为什么会想要选择一条不同的道路而不选择更容易的生活方式呢？"

40
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他噘起嘴巴，暗自微笑着说："难道爱德华没有告诉你这个故事吗？"

41
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"他告诉过我，但是我努力想了解你当时是怎么想的……"

42
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他的脸色顿时又严肃起来，我想知道他的思绪是否回到了和我想的一样的地方。我想知道在当时那种情况下我会怎么想――但我拒绝想如果――如果我是他的话。

43
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"你知道我父亲是位牧师，"他一边打趣一边仔细地清理桌面，用湿纱布把上面的东西都擦下去，接着又这样做了一遍。酒精发出刺鼻的味道，"他的世界观相当严厉，在我还没有发生改变之前，我就开始质疑了。"卡莱尔把所有的脏纱布和玻璃银器倒进空的水晶碗里。我不明白他在做什么，甚至当他擦亮火柴的时候我还是没弄明白。接着他把火柴扔到被酒精浸湿的纤维上，突如其来的火焰吓了我一跳。

44
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"对不起，"他道歉道，"这些东西理应这样处理……因此我并没有认同我父亲所信奉的那个教派，但是，自从我出生到现在四百年来，我从来都不曾看到过任何东西使我怀疑上帝是否以这种或那种形式存在。就连镜中的映像也没让我怀疑过。"

45
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我假装检查我胳膊上的包扎以掩饰我对我们谈话往这个方向发展而感到的惊讶之情。在所有我想过的事情中，宗教是我万万没有想到的。在我自己的生活中，信仰是相当匮乏的，查理把自己当成路德派，因为他的父母是路德派教徒，但是星期天他会手中拿着钓鱼竿在河畔表示对神的崇拜。蕾妮也时不时地做礼拜，但是就像她对网球、陶瓷、瑜伽和法语的短暂爱好一样，在我还不知道她最新的爱好时她已经继续往前走了。

46
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"我确信这一切从一个吸血鬼嘴里说出来听起来有些奇怪，"他咧嘴笑道，明白他们不经意地使用那个词语总会让我感到惊讶，"但是我希望这种生活仍然有一些意义，即使是对我们而言。这个目标很遥远，我承认，"他继续随意地说道，"就人们所认为的，我们无论怎样都注定永受灵魂的惩罚，但是我希望，或许有些傻，我们能通过努力获得一定程度的认同。"

47
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"我认为那并不傻，"我低声说道，我无法想象任何人，包括神在内，不会对卡莱尔难以忘怀。此外，我能感激的唯一的天堂就应该包括爱德华在内，"我认为其他人也不会这么想。"

48
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"实际上，你才是第一个认同我的观点的人。"

49
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"其他人不这么想吗？"我惊讶地问道，脑子里只想到一个人。

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卡莱尔又猜到我的想法："爱德华在一定程度上认同我的想法。我们都认为上帝和天堂是存在的……地狱也是存在的。但是他认为我们没有来生。"卡莱尔的声音非常温柔；他透过水槽上方的大窗户凝视着窗外黑漆漆的一片，说道，"你瞧，他认为我们失去了灵魂。"

51
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我立马想到今天下午爱德华说过的话：除非你想要死――或者，不管我们做什么，都会造成这样的后果。电灯泡在我的额头上摇曳。

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"这才是真正的问题，对不对？"我猜测道，"那就是为什么他总是为难我的原因。"

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卡莱尔慢条斯理地说道："我看着我的……儿子，他的优点，他的善良，他身上散发出来的光彩――这一切都点燃了那种希望，那种信仰，比以前更加强烈。怎么能没有更多人像爱德华这样呢？"

54
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我点点头，表现出强烈的认同。

55
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"要是和他一样相信……"他深不可测的眼睛俯视着我，说道，"要是你和他一样相信，你会带走他的灵魂吗？"

56
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他对这个问题的措辞令我无法回答。如果它是在我问是否愿意为了爱德华冒着失去灵魂的危险，答案是不言自明的。但是我能拿爱德华的灵魂冒险吗？我不高兴地噘起嘴巴，那不是平等交换。

57
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"你明白了这个问题。"

58
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我摇了摇头，意识到我紧绷着下巴。

59
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卡莱尔叹了叹气。

60
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"这是我的选择。"我坚持道。

61
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"这也是他的选择，"他一明白我正要争论的时候就举起手来，说道，"无论他是否为发生那样的事情对你负有责任。"

62
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"他并不是唯一有能力做到的人。"我若有所思地盯着卡莱尔。

63
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他大笑起来，突然心情愉悦起来。"噢，别那样！你要和他一起解决这个问题。"就在那时，他又叹气了，"那是我永远也无法确定的问题。我想，在其他诸多方面，我已经尽我所能做到我能做到的了，但是使其他人也受到这种命运的谴责是合理的吗？我不能确定。"

64
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我没有回答。我想象着如果卡莱尔拒绝改变他孤独的存在的诱惑，我的生活会是什么样的呢……我不禁颤栗起来。

65
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"是爱德华的母亲让我下定决心的。"卡莱尔的声音低得如同窃窃私语一样，他没有注意到自己凝视着黑漆漆的窗外。

66
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"他的母亲？"无论何时我问起爱德华的父母，他只是说他们在很久以前就去世了，他对他们的记忆很模糊。我意识到尽管他们的接触很短暂，卡莱尔对他们的记忆会相当清晰。

67
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"是的，她的名字叫伊丽莎白，伊丽莎白?梅森。他的父亲老爱德华进了医院就再也没有苏醒过来。他在第一波流感中去世了，但是伊丽莎白直到临终前都还很警觉。爱德华非常像她―她的头发上也有一种同样奇怪的金色阴影，眼睛的颜色也是同样的绿色。""他的眼睛是绿色的？"我咕哝道，在脑海中想象着。

68
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"是的……"卡莱尔黄褐色的眼睛看起来似乎离我有一百年那么遥远。"对儿子的担忧一直困扰着伊丽莎白，她冒着危及自己生存机会的危险在病床上照顾着他。我期望他会先她而去，他比他母亲的情况糟糕多了。当死神降临在她身上的时候，一切来得都非常快。就在日落之后，我赶到医院去替换工作了一整天的医生。那时候，要故作姿态是相当困难的――有那么多事情要做，我没有必要休息。当那么多人都奄奄一息时，我是多么讨厌回到自己的家里，躲在黑暗中，假装睡觉啊！"

69
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"我首先过去检查伊丽莎白和她儿子。我逐渐动了感情――想到人性的脆弱，这样做总是很危险的。我立即意识到她的病情恶化了，高烧已经失去控制，她的身体太脆弱而不能再与病魔作斗争了。"

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"不过，她从小床上抬头紧盯着我，看起来一点儿也不虚弱。"

71
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""救救他！""她用她的喉咙仅能发出的沙哑声音请求我。

72
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""我会尽我所能的，"我握着她的手答应她。她高烧得太厉害，或许她自己也没法弄清楚我的手是多么冰冷，其程度又是多么地不自然。对她而言，所有触碰到她皮肤的东西都是冰凉的。"

73
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""你一定要……"她坚持要求我，她用力地紧紧抓住我的手，力量大得让我不禁想她是否能够渡过这一劫。"你一定要做你能做到的一切。其他人不能做到的，就是你必须为我的爱德华做的事情。""

74
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"这令我感到恐惧，她用洞察一切的眼神看着我，有一瞬间，我确信她知道了我的秘密。接着高烧打垮了她，她再也没有恢复知觉。在她提出要求后不到一小时，她就去世了。"

75
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"我花了几十年的时间考虑为自己创造一个同伴的念头，只是能够真正了解我的另一个生物，而不是我得假装成的样子，但是我从来没为自己这样做找到充分的理由――对别人做加诸在我身上的事情。"

76
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"爱德华就躺在那里，奄奄一息，显然他只能活几个小时了。他的母亲躺在他的身旁，但她的脸庞不知何故并不平静，甚至在死后也没有露出平静的表情。"

77
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卡莱尔又目睹了一切，他的记忆在历经百年之后还是那么清晰明了，好不模糊。我也能清楚地看到一切，当他娓娓道来时――弥漫在医院里的绝望气氛，压倒一切的死亡气息。爱德华因为高烧生命危在旦夕，随着钟摆上一分一秒地流逝，他的生命也在消逝……我再次颤栗了，用力地把这幅画面挤出脑海。

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"伊丽莎白的话在我的脑海中回荡，她怎么能猜到我能做到的事情呢？有人真的会希望她的儿子变成那样吗？"

79
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"我看着爱德华，他病得还是那样重，但是他仍然很美丽。他的脸上有种纯洁、美好的东西。我希望我自己的儿子能拥有他那样的脸庞。""在犹豫多年之后，我只不过按照自己一时的冲动做了这件事情。我首先把他的母亲推到太平间，接着我回到他身边。没有人注意到他仍一息尚存，医院里没有足够的人手，足够的眼睛了解病人们的些许需要。太平间里空空如也――至少，没有生命的气息。我从后门把他偷了出去，抱着他跨过屋顶跑回家。""我不确定该做什么，最后我重新创造了我得到的伤口，那是许多年前在伦敦发生的事情。后来，我为此感到很糟糕，那比需要承受的痛苦与纠缠更难受。"

80
-

"不过，我没感到抱歉，我从来没有因为挽救爱德华而感到后悔。"他摇了摇头，思绪回到了现在。卡莱尔对我微笑着说道："我想我应该送你回家了。"

81
-

"我来吧。"爱德华说道。他穿过光线朦胧的餐厅慢慢地向他走来，他的脸庞很光洁，却难以捉摸，但是他的眼神有些不对劲儿――流露出他正努力掩饰的某种神情。我感到一丝不安，心紧缩了一下。

82
-

"卡莱尔会送我回家。"我说道。低头看着我的衬衣；淡蓝色的棉布被血浸透，上面也布满血迹，右肩处挂满一层厚厚的粉红色糖霜。

83
-

"我很好，"爱德华的声音没有任何感情，"不管怎样，你需要换一换衣服，你这样子会令查理心脏病发作的。我会让爱丽丝给你找件衣服换上的。"他又大步流星地从厨房门走出去了。

84
-

我焦急地看着卡莱尔："他非常难过。"

85
-

"是啊，"卡莱尔也认为如此，"今晚发生的事情正是他最害怕的。你因为我们的身份而遭遇危险，险些丧命。"

86
-

"那不是他的错。"

87
-

"那也不是你的错。"

88
-

我把目光从他那睿智迷人的眼睛上移开，没法认同他的看法。

89
-

卡莱尔伸出手，搀扶着我从桌边站了起来，我跟着他走出厨房来到客厅。埃斯梅已经回来了；她正在擦我摔倒的地方――用漂白剂彻底地除去气味。

90
-

"埃斯梅，让我来做吧。"我能感到我的脸又红了。

91
-

"我已经做好了，"她仰望着我笑道，"你感觉怎么样？"

92
-

"我很好，"我宽慰她道，"卡莱尔比我见过的任何医生缝得都要快。"

93
-

他们俩都轻声地笑了起来。

94
-

爱丽丝和爱德华从后门进来了，爱丽丝匆忙地向我跑来，但是爱德华却望而却步，他的脸深不可测。

95
-

"来吧，"爱丽丝说道，"我来给你弄一件不那么恐怖的衣服换上。"

96
-

她给我找到一件埃斯梅的衬衣，衣服的颜色接近我身上穿的那件。查理不会注意到的，我确信。我身上不再溅满血滴的时候，胳膊上长长的白色绷带看起来就没那么严重了。查理从不会因为看到我身上有绷带而感到惊讶不已。

97
-

"爱丽丝。"当她朝门口走去的时候，我轻声喊道。

98
-

"有事吗？"她也压低音量，歪着头好奇地看着我。

99
-

"事情有多严重？"我不确定我的耳语是否是枉费心机。尽管我们在楼上，关着门，或许他还是能听见我说的话。

100
-

她满脸凝重："我还不确定。"

101
-

"贾斯帕怎么样啦？"

102
-

她叹气道："他为自己感到非常难过，这一切对他来说具有更大的挑战性，他很讨厌感到脆弱。"

103
-

"不是他的错。你告诉他我不生他的气，一点儿也不，好吗？"

104
-

"当然啦。"

105
-

爱德华站在前门口等我，当我来到最后一级楼梯时，他一句话也没说就把门打开了。

106
-

"带上你的东西！"当我疲惫地朝爱德华走过去时，爱丽丝在我身后叫道。她从地上拾起两个包裹，一个半开着，另一个是我的照相机，落在钢琴下面了，她把它们塞到我没受伤的那只手上。"你打开它们以后，晚些时候再谢谢我吧。"

107
-

埃斯梅和卡莱尔轻轻地说了声晚安。我能觉察到他们偷偷地瞥了眼他们不露声色的儿子，他和我差不多。

108
-

来到屋外是种解脱；我匆忙地走过灯笼和玫瑰，现在它们不受欢迎地提醒着我。爱德华默默地跟随着我的步伐，他为我打开了乘客座的门，我没吱声儿毫无怨言地爬上车。

109
-

仪表板上是一根红色的丝带，系在新的立体声音响上。我把它拉了下来，扔到地面上，当爱德华从另一边上车的时候，我把丝带踢到了我的座椅下面。他没有看我，也没有看音响。我们俩人都没有发动车，"轰隆隆"一声引擎发动了，突如其来的声音让弥漫在车里的沉默更加紧张了。他飞快地开过漆黑一片、蜿蜒崎岖的车道。

110
-

沉默令我快要发疯了。

111
-

"说点什么吧。"当他转弯开上高速公路的时候，我祈求道。

112
-

"你想要我说什么？"他冷漠地问道。

113
-

我在他的冷漠面前畏缩了："告诉我你原谅我了。"

114
-

这句话使他的脸上闪过片刻的生机――一阵愤怒："原谅你？为什么？"

115
-

"要是我更小心的话，什么事都不会发生。"

116
-

"贝拉，你不小心被纸弄破了手指――那根本不该接受死刑的惩罚。"

117
-

"还是我的错。"

118
-

我的话打开了他防守的闸门。

119
-

"你的错？要是你在迈克?牛顿家弄伤了手指，杰西卡、安吉拉和你其他正常的朋友们在一起的话，可能发生最糟糕的事情会是什么呢？可能他们没法给你找到绷带？要是你摔倒了，自己不小心跌倒在一堆玻璃盘子上面――而不是某个人把你推到那里去的话――就算那样，最糟糕的情况又会是什么呢？当他们开车送你去急诊室时你的血会流在椅子上？当医生们为你缝合伤口时，迈克?牛顿会握着你的手――而那时他也不会一直在那儿与要杀死你的冲动相搏斗。别想把这些都往你自己身上揽，贝拉。这只会让我更讨厌自己。"

120
-

"迈克?牛顿怎么会出现在我们的谈话中？"我质问道。

121
-

"迈克?牛顿出现在我们的谈话中是因为你跟迈克?牛顿在一起不知道要健康多少倍。"他咆哮道。

122
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"我宁愿死也不要和迈克?牛顿在一起，"我争辩道，"除了你，我宁愿死也不要和其他人在一起。"

123
-

"别感情用事，求你了。"

124
-

"好吧，那么，请你别犯傻了。"

125
-

他没有回答，满眼怒火地望着挡风玻璃，脸色铁青。

126
-

我绞尽脑汁地想挽救今晚的一切，当我们在我家门口停下来的时候，我仍然没有想出什么办法。

127
-

他熄掉火，但是双手仍然紧紧地抓住方向盘。

128
-

"你今晚会留下来吗？"我问道。

129
-

"我要回家。"

130
-

我最不想发生的事情就是他沉浸在懊恼自责之中。

131
-

"就算为了我的生日，好吗？"我央求着他。

132
-

"你不能两样都要――要么你让人家忽略你的生日，要么你别那么做。两者只能取其一。"他的声音很严厉，但是没有先前那么严肃了。我默默地吸了口气，感到一阵欣慰。

133
-

"好吧，我决定了，我不想你忽略我的生日。我们楼上见。"

134
-

我跳了出来，伸手回去拿我的包裹，他皱起了眉头。

135
-

"你没必要拿那些东西。"

136
-

"我想要。"我想都没想就这样回答道，接着我想他是否心理正叛逆着呢。

137
-

"不，你别拿，卡莱尔和埃斯梅为你的生日花了钱。"

138
-

"我会记得的。"我笨拙地把礼物夹在我没受伤的那只胳膊下面，在身后把门关上了。他下了车，不一会儿就来到我身边了。

139
-

"至少让我拿着吧，"他把东西拿过去，说道，"我会来你房间的。"

140
-

我笑着说："谢谢。"

141
-

"生日快乐。"他叹息道，倾身用他的嘴巴吻住我的唇。

142
-

当他停下来的时候，我踮起脚尖使这个吻持续得更久一点儿。他脸上带着我最喜欢的不老实的笑容，接着消失在黑暗中。

143
-

比赛还在继续；我从前门一走进来就听见扬声器的声音在喧闹的人群中蔓延开来。

144
-

"是贝尔吗？"查理叫道。

145
-

"嗨，老爸。"我来到屋角的时候说道，把手贴进身旁。轻微的挤压引起灼热的疼痛，我皱了皱鼻子，麻醉药显然正在失去药效。

146
-

"玩得开心吗？"查理懒洋洋地躺在沙发上，双脚放在扶手上。他棕色的卷发被压平在一侧。

147
-

"爱丽丝有些过头了，有鲜花，蛋糕还有礼物――所有的东西都齐了。"

148
-

"他们送给你什么呢？"

149
-

"给我的卡车买了个立体音响。"还有许多不知道的礼物。

150
-

"喔！"

151
-

"是啊，"我也觉得是这样，"好了，我得去睡觉了。"

152
-

"你的胳膊怎么啦？"

153
-

我脸刷地一下红了，默默地诅咒道："我摔倒了，没什么大碍。"

154
-

"贝拉。"他摇了摇头，叹了口气说道。

155
-

"晚安，爸爸。"

156
-

我匆忙地跑到浴室，在那里我放着一套睡衣，专门为这样的晚上准备的。我扭动身子脱掉衣服，穿上配套的宽大上衣和棉质睡裤，我得换掉我平时睡觉时穿的多孔长裤，害怕翻身会拉动缝合线。我用一只手洗脸，刷牙，接着快速地跑进了我的卧室。

157
-

他坐在我的床中央，随意地把玩着两个银色盒子中的一个。

158
-

"嗨。"他跟我打了个招呼，声音很忧伤，情绪也很低落。

159
-

我爬上床，把他手中的礼物推到一边，爬到他的大腿上。

160
-

"嗨，"我依偎在他石头般坚硬的胸膛上，"我现在能打开礼物了吗？"

161
-

"你从哪里来的热情呢？"他问道。

162
-

"你让我感到好奇。"

163
-

我捡起那个长长的扁方盒，一定是卡莱尔和埃斯梅送的。

164
-

"让我来开吧。"他建议道，他从我手中接过礼物，熟练地撕开了银色的包装纸，接着把长方形的白色盒子递回到我手中。

165
-

"你确定我能打开盖子吗？"我咕哝道，但是他没理我。

166
-

盒子里面是一张长长的厚纸片，上面布满了精致的印记。我花了好一会儿功夫才领会到这个信息的精髓。

167
-

"我们要去杰克逊维尔吗？"我兴奋不已，尽管只是我一厢情愿。这是机票的凭单，给我和爱德华的。

168
-

"他们是这么想的。"

169
-

"难以置信，蕾妮要高兴地跳起来了！不过，你不介意吧，是吗？那里阳光明媚，你一天到晚都要待在室内。"

170
-

"我想我能应付，"他说道，然后又皱起眉头，"如果我知道你能对礼物作出如此得体的反应，我就会让你在卡莱尔和埃斯梅面前打开它。我以为你会抱怨的。"

171
-

"好吧，当然这太过意不去了，但是我能和你一起去！"

172
-

他轻轻地笑了起来："现在我倒希望自己花钱给你买礼物了，我没意识到你也能做到理智行事。"

173
-

我把机票放在一边，伸手去拿他的礼物，我的好奇心又被重新点燃了。他从我手中拿过盒子，像打开前一个一样为我打开包装。

174
-

他递给我一张光亮的珠宝CD盒，里面有一张空白的银色CD。

175
-

"这是什么？"我满脸疑惑地问道。

176
-

他什么也没说，拿出CD，环抱住我把CD放进桌子边上的CD机里。他按了一下播放键，我们静静地等待着。接着音乐响起了。

177
-

我聆听着，一言不发，两只眼睛睁得大大的。我知道他在等待我的反应，但是我不能言语。眼泪夺眶而出，在眼泪再次流出来之前我用手擦掉泪水。

178
-

"你的胳膊疼吗？"他焦急地问道。

179
-

"不疼，不是我胳膊的原因，它太美了，爱德华，这是你给我的最好的礼物。真难以置信！"我闭上嘴巴，静静地聆听着。

180
-

那是他的音乐，他自己创作的。CD上的第一支曲子是我的摇篮曲。

181
-

"我想你不会允许我买台钢琴给你的，不然的话我可以在这里给你弹。"他解释道。

182
-

"你说对了。"

183
-

"你的胳膊感觉如何？"

184
-

"还好。"实际上，它已经在绷带下面发出灼痛起来了。我想要冰块。我本来可以用他的手的，但是那样就会出卖我。

185
-

"我去给你拿点儿泰诺。"

186
-

"我什么也不要。"我争辩道，但是他把我轻轻地推下他的膝盖，朝门口走去。

187
-

"查理。"我嘘声道。查理并不是很清楚爱德华经常在这里过夜。实际上，要是这件事情被他发现的话，他会心脏病发作的。但是我并不为欺骗他而感到内疚。这件事和他不要我做的那些事情不一样。爱德华和他的规定……

188
-

"他不会注意到我的。"爱德华消失在门边时轻轻地答应道……他很快回来了，在门碰到门框之前一把抓住了它。他从浴室里拿来一只杯子，一只手里握着一瓶药丸。我什么话都没说就服下了他递给我的药――我知道我说不过他；而我的胳膊真的开始让我难受起来了。

189
-

我的摇篮曲仍在独自继续，它是那么轻柔，那么动人。

190
-

"很晚了。"爱德华说道，他用一只胳膊把我从床上抱起，用另一只手掀开床罩，接着把我的头放在枕头上，把我身边的被子掖好，然后在我身旁躺下来――他躺在毯子上，这样我就不会感到颤栗了――但却把胳膊放在我身上。

191
-

我把头靠在他的肩膀上，开心地叹着气。

192
-

"再次感谢你。"我对他耳语道。

193
-

"不客气。"

194
-

我聆听着我的摇篮曲直到它慢慢地结束，这是一段相当长的时间。另一支曲子又响了起来，我听出来这是埃斯梅最喜欢的曲子。

195
-

"你在想什么？"我轻声地问道。

196
-

他迟疑了一下，告诉我："实际上，我在想对与错。"

197
-

一阵冰冷的感觉穿透我的脊椎。

198
-

"还记得我是如何要你不要忽略我的生日的吗？"我迅速地问道，希望我试图转移他的注意力的动机不是那么明显。

199
-

"记得。"他答应道，声音疲惫。

200
-

"那么，我在想，既然现在还是我的生日，那么我想你再吻吻我。"

201
-

"今晚你很贪婪。"

202
-

"是的，我是很贪婪――但是，求你别做你不想做的事情。"我生气地补充道。

203
-

他大笑起来，接着叹息道："要是我做了我不想做的事情，上天会惩罚我的。"他说的时候声音里夹杂着一种奇怪的绝望语调，同时，他用手托起我的下巴，使我的脸贴近他的脸。这个吻和以前一样开始――爱德华和以前一样小心翼翼，我的心也像以往一样过度反应起来。接着好像有什么发生了改变。突然他的嘴唇变得更加急切起来，他空着的手揉搓着我的头发，紧紧地把我脸贴近他的脸。尽管我的手也伸进了他的头发，尽管我明目张胆地开始跨越他设定的警戒线，这一次他却没有制止我。他的身体透过这层薄被子还是那么冰冷，但是我迫不及待地向他靠拢。

204
-

他突然停了下来；用手轻轻地、坚定地把我推开。

205
-

我倒在枕头上，喘着气，头一阵眩晕。某种捉摸不清的东西用力地牵引着我的记忆，令我紧张不已。

206
-

"对不起，"他说道，他也气喘吁吁地，"那出界了。"

207
-

"我不介意。"我喘着气。

208
-

他在黑暗中皱着眉头，说道："努力睡觉，贝拉。"

209
-

"不要，我要你再吻我。"

210
-

"你太高估我的自制力了。"

211
-

"哪个对你更有诱惑，我的血还是我的身体？"我挑衅地问道。

212
-

"那是紧密相连的，"不管他自己如何，他短促地笑了笑，然后脸色又严肃起来，"现在，为什么不停止冒险，睡觉呢？"

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"好吧。"我只得同意，和他依偎得更近了。我真的感到精疲力竭了。从许多方面而言，今天看来都是漫长的一天，然而我感到这事情还没完，也没有感觉到丝毫的宽慰，好像明天会有更糟糕的事情发生一样。这只不过是个愚蠢的恶兆――还有什么比今天更糟糕的呢？我只不过是被吓坏了，这是毫无疑问的。我努力地不让他察觉，把受伤的胳膊靠着他的肩膀，这样他冰冷的皮肤就会缓解这种灼烧的痛楚，果然，我一下子就感觉好多了。

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我在半梦半醒之间，或许睡得更熟一些的时候，意识到他的吻使我想起的东西：去年春天，当他离开我想把詹姆斯从我身边引开时，爱德华吻了我向我道别，那时我们不知道何时――或者是否――我们还会再见面。这个吻由于某种我无法想象的原因几乎带来同样的痛苦。我吓得失去意识，仿佛我已经置身梦魇一般。

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CARLISLE WAS NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO STAYED calm. Centuries of experience in theemergency room were evident in his quiet, authoritative voice.

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"Emmett, Rose, get Jasper outside."Unsmiling for once, Emmett nodded. "Come on, Jasper."Jasper struggled against Emmett’s unbreakable grasp, twisting around, reaching toward his brother withhis bared teeth, his eyes still past reason.

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Edward’s face was whiter than bone as he wheeled to crouch over me, taking a clearly defensiveposition. A low warning growl slid from between his clenched teeth. I could tell that he wasn’t breathing.

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Rosalie, her divine face strangely smug, stepped in front of Jasper—keeping a careful distance from histeeth—and helped Emmett wrestle him through the glass door that Esme held open, one hand pressedover her mouth and nose.

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Esme’s heart-shaped face was ashamed. "I’m so sorry, Bella," she cried as she followed the others intothe yard.

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"Let me by, Edward," Carlisle murmured.

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A second passed, and then Edward nodded slowly and relaxed his stance.

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Carlisle knelt beside me, leaning close to examine my arm. I could feel the shock frozen on my face, andI tried to compose it.

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"Here, Carlisle," Alice said, handing him a towel.

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He shook his head. "Too much glass in the wound." He reached over and ripped a long, thin scrap fromthe bottom of the white tablecloth. He twisted it around my arm above the elbow to form a tourniquet.

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The smell of the blood was making me dizzy. My ears rang.

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"Bella," Carlisle said softly. "Do you want me to drive you to the hospital, or would you like me to takecare of it here?""Here, please," I whispered. If he took me to the hospital, there would be no way to keep this fromCharlie.

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"I’ll get your bag," Alice said.

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"Let’s take her to the kitchen table," Carlisle said to Edward.

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Edward lifted me effortlessly, while Carlisle kept the pressure steady on my arm.

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"How are you doing, Bella?" Carlisle asked.

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"I’m fine." My voice was reasonably steady, which pleased me.

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Edward’s face was like stone.

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Alice was there. Carlisle’s black bag was already on the table, a small but brilliant desk light plugged intothe wall. Edward sat me gently into a chair, and Carlisle pulled up another. He went to work at once.

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Edward stood over me, still protective, still not breathing.

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"Just go, Edward," I sighed.

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"I can handle it," he insisted. But his jaw was rigid; his eyes burned with the intensity of the thirst hefought, so much worse for him than it was for the others.

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"You don’t need to be a hero," I said. "Carlisle can fix me up without your help. Get some fresh air."I winced as Carlisle did something to my arm that stung.

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"I’ll stay," he said.

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"Why are you so masochistic?" I mumbled.

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Carlisle decided to intercede. "Edward, you may as well go find Jasper before he gets too far. I’m surehe’s upset with himself, and I doubt he’ll listen to anyone but you right now.""Yes," I eagerly agreed. "Go find Jasper.""You might as well do something useful," Alice added.

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Edward’s eyes narrowed as we ganged up on him, but, finally, he nodded once and sprinted smoothlythrough the kitchen’s back door. I was sure he hadn’t taken a breath since I’d sliced my finger.

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A numb, dead feeling was spreading through my arm.

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Though it erased the sting, it reminded me of the gash, and I watched Carlisle’s face carefully to distractme from what his hands were doing. His hair gleamed gold in the bright light as he bent over my arm. Icould feel the faint stirrings of unease in the pit of my stomach, but I was determined not to let my usualsqueamishness get the best of me. There was no pain now, just a gentle tugging sensation that I tried toignore. No reason to get sick like a baby.

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If she hadn’t been in my line of sight, I wouldn’t have noticed Alice give up and steal out of the room.

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With a tiny, apologetic smile on her lips, she disappeared through the kitchen doorway.

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"Well, that’s everyone," I sighed. "I can clear a room, at least.""It’s not your fault," Carlisle comforted me with a chuckle. "It could happen to anyone.""Could" I repeated. "But it usually just happens to me." He laughed again.

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His relaxed calm was only more amazing set in direct contrast with everyone else’s reaction. I couldn’tfind any trace of anxiety in his face. He worked with quick, sure movements. The only sound besides ourquiet breathing was the soft plink, plink as the tiny fragments of glass dropped one by one to the table.

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"How can you do this?" I demanded. "Even Alice and Esme…" I trailed off, shaking my head in wonder.

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Though the rest of them had given up the traditional diet of vampires just as absolutely as Carlisle had, hewas the only one who could bear the smell of my blood without suffering from the intense temptation.

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Clearly, this was much more difficult than he made it seem.

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"Years and years of practice," he told me. "I barely notice the scent anymore.""Do you think it would be harder if you took a vacation from the hospital for a long time. And weren’taround any blood?""Maybe." He shrugged his shoulders, but his hands remained steady. "I’ve never felt the need for anextended holiday." He flashed a brilliant smile in my direction. "I enjoy my work too much."plink, plink, plink. I was surprised at how much glass there seemed to be in my arm. I was tempted toglance at the growing pile, just to check the size, but I knew that idea would not be helpful to myno-vomiting strategy.

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"What is it that you enjoy?" I wondered. It didn’t make sense to me—the years of struggle and self-denialhe must have spent to get to the point where he could endure this so easily. Besides, I wanted to keephim talking; the conversation kept my mind off the queasy feeling in my stomach.

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His dark eyes were calm and thoughtful as he answered. "Hmm. What I enjoy the very most is whenmy… enhanced abilities let me save someone who would otherwise have been lost. It’s pleasant knowingthat, thanks to what I can do, some people’s lives are better because I exist. Even the sense of smell is auseful diagnostic tool at times." One side of his mouth pulled up in half a smile.

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I mulled that over while he poked around, making sure all the glass splinters were gone. Then herummaged in his bag for new tools, and I tried not to picture a needle and thread.

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"You try very hard to make up for something that was never your fault," I suggested while a new kind oftugging started at the edges of my skin. "What I mean is, it’s not like you asked for this. You didn’tchoose this kind of life, and yet you have to work so hard to be good.""I don’t know that I’m making up for anything," he disagreed lightly. "Like everything in life, I just had todecide what to do with what I was given.""That makes it sound too easy."He examined my arm again. "There," he said, snipping a thread. "All done." He wiped an oversizedQ-tip, dripping with some syrup-colored liquid, thoroughly across the operation site. The smell wasstrange; it made my head spin. The syrup stained my skin.

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"In the beginning, though," I pressed while he taped another long piece of gauze securely in place, sealingit to my skin. "Why did you even think to try a different way than the obvious one?"His lips turned up in a private smile. "Hasn’t Edward told you this story?""Yes. But I’m trying to understand what you were thinking…" His face was suddenly serious again, and I wondered if his thoughts had gone to the same place that minehad. Wondering what I would be thinking when—I refused to think if—it was me.

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"You know my father was a clergyman," he mused as he cleaned the table carefully, rubbing everythingdown with wet gauze, and then doing it again. The smell of alcohol burned in my nose. "He had a ratherharsh view of the world, which I was already beginning to question before the time that I changed."Carlisle put all the dirty gauze and the glass slivers into an empty crystal bowl. I didn’t understand what hewas doing, even when he lit the match. Then he threw it onto the alcohol-soaked fibers, and the suddenblaze made me jump.

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"Sorry," he apologized. "That ought to do it… So I didn’t agree with my father’s particular brand of faith.

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But never, in the nearly four hundred years now since I was born, have I ever seen anything to make medoubt whether God exists in some form or the other. Not even the reflection in the mirror."I pretended to examine the dressing on my arm to hide my surprise at the direction our conversation hadtaken. Religion was the last thing I expected, all things considered. My own life was fairly devoid ofbelief. Charlie considered himself a Lutheran, because that’s what his parents had been, but Sundays heworshipped by the river with a fishing pole in his hand. Renee tried out a church now and then, but, muchlike her brief affairs with tennis, pottery, yoga, and French classes, she moved on by the time I wasaware of her newest fad.

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"I’m sure all this sounds a little bizarre, coming from a vampire." He grinned, knowing how their casualuse of that word never failed to shock me. "But I’m hoping that there is still a point to this life, even for us.

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It’s a long shot, I’ll admit," he continued in an offhand voice. "By all accounts, we’re damned regardless.

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But I hope, maybe foolishly, that we’ll get some measure of credit for trying.""I don’t think that’s foolish," I mumbled. I couldn’t imagine anyone, deity included, who wouldn’t beimpressed by Carlisle. Besides, the only kind of heaven I could appreciate would have to includeEdward. "And I don’t think anyone else would, either.""Actually, you’re the very first one to agree with me.""The rest of them don’t feel the same?" I asked, surprised, thinking of only one person in particular.

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Carlisle guessed the direction of my thoughts again. "Edward’s with me up to a point. God and heavenexist… and so does hell. But he doesn’t believe there is an afterlife for our kind." Carlisle’s voice wasvery soft; he stared out the big window over the sink, into the darkness. "You see, he thinks we’ve lostour souls."I immediately thought of Edward’s words this afternoon: unless you want to die—or whatever it isthat we do. The lightbulb flicked on over my head.

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"That’s the real problem, isn’t it?" I guessed. "That’s why he’s being so difficult about me."Carlisle spoke slowly. "I look at my… son. His strength, his goodness, the brightness that shines out ofhim—and it only fuels that hope, that faith, more than ever. How could there not be more for one such asEdward?"I nodded in fervent agreement.

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"But if I believed as he does…" He looked down at me with unfathomable eyes. "If you believed as hedid. Could you take away his soul?"The way he phrased the question thwarted my answer.

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If he’d asked me whether I would risk my soul for Edward, the reply would be obvious. But would I riskEdward’s soul? I pursed my lips unhappily. That wasn’t a fair exchange.

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"You see the problem."I shook my head, aware of the stubborn set of my chin.

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Carlisle sighed.

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"It’s my choice," I insisted.

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"It’s his, too." He held up his hand when he could see that I was about to argue. "Whether he isresponsible for doing that to you.""He’s not the only one able to do it." I eyed Carlisle speculatively.

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He laughed, abruptly lightening the mood. "Oh, no! You’re going to have to work this out with him."Butthen he sighed. "That’s the one part I can never be sure of. I think, in most other ways, that I’ve done thebest I could with what I had to work with. But was it right to doom the others to this life? I can’t decide."I didn’t answer. I imagined what my life would be like if Carlisle had resisted the temptation to change hislonely existence… and shuddered.

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"It was Edward’s mother who made up my mind." Carlisle’s voice was almost a whisper. He staredunseeingly out the black windows.

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"His mother?" Whenever I’d asked Edward about his parents, he would merely say that they had diedlong ago, and his memories were vague. I realized Carlisle’s memory of them, despite the brevity of theircontact, would be perfectly clear.

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"Yes. Her name was Elizabeth. Elizabeth Masen. His father, Edward Senior, never regainedconsciousness in the hospital. He died in the first wave of the influenza. But Elizabeth was alert untilalmost the very end. Edward looks a great deal like her—she had that same strange bronze shade to herhair, and her eyes were exactly the same color green.""His eyes were green?" I murmured, trying to picture it.

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"Yes…" Carlisle’s ocher eyes were a hundred years away now. "Elizabeth worried obsessively over herson. She hurt her own chances of survival trying to nurse him from her sickbed. I expected that he wouldgo first, he was so much worse off than she was. When the end came for her, it was very quick. It wasjust after sunset, and I’d arrived to relieve the doctors who’d been working all day. That was a hard timeto pretend—there was so much work to be done, and I had no need of rest. How I hated to go back tomy house, to hide in the dark and pretend to sleep while so many were dying.

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"I went to check Elizabeth and her son first. I’d grown attached—always a dangerous thing to doconsidering the fragile nature of humans. I could see at once that she’d taken a bad turn. The fever wasraging out of control, and her body was too weak to fight anymore.

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"She didn’t look weak, though, when she glared up at me from her cot.

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"Save him!’ she commanded me in the hoarse voice that was all her throat could manage.

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"I’ll do everything in my power,’ I promised her, taking her hand. The fever was so high, she probablycouldn’t even tell how unnaturally cold mine felt. Everything felt cold to her skin.

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"You must," she insisted, clutching at my hand with enough strength that I wondered if she wouldn’t pullthrough the crisis after all. Her eyes were hard, like stones, like emeralds. ’You must do everything inyour power. What others cannot do, that is what you must do for my Edward.""It frightened me. She looked it me with those piercing eyes, and, for one instant, I felt certain that sheknew my secret. Then the fever overwhelmed her, and she never regained consciousness. She diedwithin an hour of making her demand.

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"I’d spent decades considering the idea of creating a companion for myself. Just one other creature whocould really know me, rather than what I pretended to be. But I could never justify it to myself—doingwhat had been done to me.

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"There Edward lay, dying. It was clear that he had only hours left. Beside him, his mother, her facesomehow not yet peaceful, not even in death."Carlisle saw it all again, his memory unblurred by the intervening century. I could see it clearly, too, as hespoke—the despair of the hospital, the overwhelming atmosphere of death. Edward burning with fever,his life slipping away with each tick of the clock… I shuddered again, and forced the picture from mymind.

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"Elizabeth’s words echoed in my head. How could she guess what I could do? Could anyone really wantthat for her son?

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"I looked at Edward. Sick as he was, he was still beautiful. There was something pure and good abouthis face. The kind of face I would have wanted my son to have.

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"After all those years of indecision, I simply acted on a whim. I wheeled his mother to the morgue first,and then I came back for him. No one noticed that he was still breathing. There weren’t enough hands,enough eyes, to keep track of half of what the patients needed. The morgue was empty—of the living, atleast. I stole him out the back door, and carried him across the rooftops back to my home.

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"I wasn’t sure what had to be done. I settled for recreating the wounds I’d received myself, so manycenturies earlier in London. I felt bad about that later. It was more painful and lingering than necessary.

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"I wasn’t sorry, though. I’ve never been sorry that I saved Edward." He shook his head, coming back tothe present. He smiled at me. "I suppose I should take you home now.""I’ll do that," Edward said. He came through the shadowy dining room, walking slowly for him. His facewas smooth, unreadable, but there was something wrong with his eyes—something he was trying veryhard to hide. I felt a spasm of unease in my stomach.

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"Carlisle can take me," I said. I looked down at my shirt; the light blue cotton was soaked and spottedwith my blood. My right shoulder was covered in thick pink frosting.

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"I’m fine." Edward’s voice was unemotional. "You’ll need to change anyway. You’d give Charlie a heartattack the way you look. I’ll have Alice get you something." He strode out the kitchen door again.

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I looked at Carlisle anxiously. "He’s very upset.""Yes," Carlisle agreed. "Tonight is exactly the kind of thing that he fears the most. You being put indanger, because of what we are.""It’s not his fault." "It’s not yours, either."I looked away from his wise, beautiful eyes. I couldn’t agree with that.

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Carlisle offered me his hand and helped me up from the table. I followed him out into the main room.

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Esme had come back; she was mopping the floor where I’d fallen—with straight bleach from the smell ofit.

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"Esme, let me do that." I could feel that my face was bright red again.

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"I’m already done." She smiled up at me. "How do you feel?""I’m fine," I assured her. "Carlisle sews faster than any other doctor I’ve had."They both chuckled.

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Alice and Edward came in the back doors. Alice hurried to my side, but Edward hung back, his faceindecipherable.

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"C’mon," Alice said. "I’ll get you something less macabre to wear."She found me a shirt of Esme’s that was close to the same color mine had been. Charlie wouldn’t notice,I was sure. The long white bandage on my arm didn’t look nearly as serious when I was no longerspattered in gore. Charlie was never surprised to see me bandaged.

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"Alice," I whispered as she headed back to the door.

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"Yes?" She kept her voice low, too, and looked at me curiously, her head cocked to the side.

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"How bad is it?" I couldn’t be sure if my whispering was a wasted effort. Even though we were upstairs,with the door closed, perhaps he could hear me.

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Her face tensed. "I’m not sure yet.""How’s Jasper?"She sighed. "He’s very unhappy with himself. It’s all so much more of challenge for him, and he hatesfeeling weak.""It’s not his fault. You’ll tell him that I’m not mad at him, not at all, won’t you?""Of course."Edward was waiting for me by the front door. As I got to the bottom of the staircase, he held it openwithout a word.

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"Take your things!" Alice cried as I walked warily toward Edward. She scooped up the two packages,one half-opened, and my camera from under the piano, and pressed them into my good arm. "You canthank me later, when you’ve opened them."Esme and Carlisle both said a quiet goodnight. I could see them stealing quick glances at their impassiveson, much like I was.

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It was a relief to be outside; I hurried past the lanterns and the roses, now unwelcome reminders.

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Edward kept pace with me silently. He opened the passenget side for me, and I climbed in without complaint.

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On the dashboard was a big red ribbon, stuck to the new stereo. I pulled it off, throwing it to the floor.

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As Edward slid into the other side, I kicked the ribbon under my seat.

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He didn’t look at me or the stereo. Neither of us switched it on, and the silence was somehow intensifiedby the sudden thunder of the engine. He drove too fast down the dark, serpentine lane.

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The silence was making me insane.

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"Say something," I finally begged as he turned onto the freeway.

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"What do you want me to say?" he asked in a detached voice.

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I cringed at his remoteness. ’Tell me you forgive me."That brought a flicker of life to his face—a flicker of anger. "Forgive you? For what?""If I’d been more careful, nothing would have happened.""Bella, you gave yourself a paper cut—that hardly deserves the death penalty.""It’s still my fault."My words opened up the floodgate.

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"Your fault? If you’d cut yourself at Mike Newton’s house, with Jessica there and Angela and your othernormal friends, the worst that could possibly have happened would be what? Maybe they couldn’t findyou a bandage? If you’d tripped and knocked over a pile of glass plates on your own—without someonethrowing you into them—even then, what’s the worst? You’d get blood on the seats when they droveyou to the emergency room? Mike Newton could have held your hand while they stitched you up—andhe wouldn’t be righting the urge to kill you the whole time he was there. Don’t try to take any of this onyourself, Bella. It will only make me more disgusted with myself.""How the hell did Mike Newton end up in this conversation?" I demanded.

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"Mike Newton ended up in this conversation because Mike Newton would be a hell of a lot healthier foryou to be with," he growled.

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"I’d rather die than be with Mike Newton," I protested. "I’d rather die than be with anyone but you.""Don’t be melodramatic, please.""Well then, don’t you be ridiculous."He didn’t answer. He glared through the windshield, his expression black.

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I racked my brain for some way to salvage the evening. When we pulled up in front of my house, I stillhadn’t come up with anything.

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He killed the engine, but his hands stayed clenched around the steering wheel.

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"Will you stay tonight?" I asked.

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"I should go home." The last thing I wanted was for him to go wallow in remorse.

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"For my birthday," I pressed.

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"You can’t have it both ways—either you want people to ignore your birthday or you don’t. One or theother."His voice was stern, but not .is serious as before. I breathed a silent sigh of relief.

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"Okay. I’ve decided that I don’t want you to ignore my birthday. I’ll see you upstairs."I hopped out, reaching back in for my packages. He frowned.

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"You don’t have to take those.""I want them," I responded automatically, and then wondered if he was using reverse psychology.

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"No, you don’t. Carlisle and Esme spent money on you.""I’ll live." I tucked the presents awkwardly under my good arm and slammed the door behind me. Hewas out of the truck and by my side in less than a second.

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"Let me carry them, at least." he said as he took them away. "I’ll be in your room."I smiled. "Thanks.""Happy birthday," he sighed, and leaned down to touch his lips to mine.

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I reached up on my toes to make the kiss last longer when he pulled away. He smiled my favoritecrooked smile, and then he disappeared into the darkness.

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The game was still on; as soon as I walked through the front door I could hear the announcer ramblingover the babble of the crowd.

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"Bell?" Charlie called.

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"Hey, Dad," I said as I came around the corner. I held my arm close to my side. The slight pressureburned, and I wrinkled my nose. The anesthetic was apparently losing its effectiveness.

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"How was it?" Charlie lounged across the sofa with his bare feet propped up on the arm. What was leftof his curly brown hair was crushed flat on one side.

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"Alice went overboard. Flowers, cake, candles, presents—the whole bit.""What did they get you?""A stereo for my truck." And various unknowns.

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"Wow.""Yeah," I agreed. "Well, I’m calling it a night.""I’ll see you in the morning."I waved. "See ya." "What happened to your arm?"I flushed and cursed silently. "I tripped. It’s nothing.""Bella," he sighed, shaking his head.

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"Goodnight, Dad."I hurried up to the bathroom, where I kept my pajamas for just such nights as these. I shrugged into thematching tank top and cotton pants that I’d gotten to replace the holey sweats I used to wear to bed,wincing as the movement pulled at the stitches. I washed my face one-handed, brushed my teeth, andthen skipped to my room.

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He was sitting in the center of my bed, toying idly with one of the silver boxes.

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"Hi," he said. His voice was sad. He was wallowing.

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I went to the bed, pushed the presents out of his hands, and climbed into his lap.

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"Hi." I snuggled into his stone chest. "Can I open my presents now?""Where did the enthusiasm come from?" he wondered.

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"You made me curious."I picked up the long flat rectangle that must have been from Carlisle and Esme.

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"Allow me," he suggested. He took the gift from my hand and tore the silver paper off with one fluidmovement. He handed the rectangular white box back to me.

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"Are you sure I can handle lifting the lid?" I muttered, but he ignored me.

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Inside the box was a long thick piece of paper with an overwhelming amount of fine print. It took me aminute to get the gist of the information.

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"We’re going to Jacksonville?" And I was excited, in spite of myself. It was a voucher for plane tickets,for both me and Edward.

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"That’s the idea.""I can’t believe it. Renee is going to flip! You don’t mind, though, do you? It’s sunny, you’ll have to stayinside all day.""I think I can handle it," he said, and then frowned. "If I’d had any idea that you could respond to a giftthis appropriately, I would have made you open it in front of Carlisle and Esme. I thought you’dcomplain.""Well, of course it’s too much. But I get to take you with me!"He chuckled. "Now I wish I’d spent money on your present. I didn’t realize that you were capable ofbeing reasonable."I set the tickets aside and reached for his present, my curiosity rekindled. He took it from me andunwrapped it like the first one.

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He handed back a clear CD jewel case, with a blank silver CD inside.

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"What is it?" I asked, perplexed.

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He didn’t say anything; he took the CD and reached around me to put it in the CD player on the bedsidetable. He hit play, and we waited in silence. Then the music began.

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I listened, speechless and wide-eyed. I knew he was waiting for my reaction, but I couldn’t talk. Tearswelled up, and I reached up to wipe them away before they could spill over.

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"Does your arm hurt?" he asked anxiously.

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"No, it’s not my arm. It’s beautiful, Edward. You couldn’t have given me anything I would love more. Ican’t believe it." I shut up, so I could listen.

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It was his music, his compositions. The first piece on the CD was my lullaby.

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"I didn’t think you would let me get a piano so I could play for you here," he explained.

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"You’re right.""How does your arm feel?""Just fine." Actually, it was starting to blaze under the bandage. I wanted ice. I would have settled for hishand, but that would have given me away.

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"I’ll get you some Tylenol.""I don’t need anything," I protested, but he slid me off his lap and headed for the door.

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"Charlie," I hissed. Charlie wasn’t exactly aware that Edward frequently stayed over. In fact, he wouldhave a stroke if that fact were brought to his attention. But I didn’t feel too guilty for deceiving him Itwasn’t as if we were up to anything he wouldn’t want me to be up to. Edward and his rules…"He won’t catch me," Edward promised as he disappeared silently out the door . . and returned, catchingthe door before it had swung back to touch the frame. He had the glass from the bathroom and the bottleof pills in one hand.

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I took the pills he handed me without arguing—I knew I would lose the argument And my arm really wasstarting to bother me.

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My lullaby continued, soft and lovely, in the background.

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"It’s late," Edward noted. He scooped me up off the bed with one arm, and pulled the cover back withthe other. He put me down with my head on my pillow and tucked the quilt around me. He lay down nextto me—on top of the blanket so I wouldn’t get chilled—and put his arm over me.

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I leaned my head against his shoulder and sighed happily.

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"Thanks again," I whispered.

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"You’re welcome."It was quiet for a long moment as I listened to my lullaby drift to a close. Another song began. Irecognized Esme’s favorite.

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"What are you thinking about?’" I wondered in a whisper.

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He hesitated for a second before he told me. "I was thinking about right and wrong, actually."I felt a chill tingle along my spine.

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"Remember how I decided that I wanted you to not ignore my birthday?" I asked quickly, hoping itwasn’t too clear that I was trying to distract him.

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"Yes," he agreed, wary.

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"Well, I was thinking, since it’s still my birthday, that I’d like you to kiss me again.""You’re greedy tonight.""Yes, I am—but please, don’t do anything you don’t want to do," I added, piqued.

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He laughed, and then sighed. "Heaven forbid that I should do anything I don’t want to do," he said in astrangely desperate tone as he put his hand under my chin and pulled my face up to his.

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The kiss began much the same as usual—Edward was as careful as ever, and my heart began tooverreact like it always did. And then something seemed to change. Suddenly his lips became much moreurgent, his free hand twisted into my hair and held my face securely to his. And, though my hands tangledin his hair, too, and though I was clearly beginning to cross his cautious lines, for once he didn’t stop me.

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His body was cold through the thin quilt, but I crushed myself against him eagerly.

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When he stopped it was abrupt; he pushed me away with gentle, firm hands.

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I collapsed back onto my pillow, gasping, my head spinning. Something tugged at my memory, elusive,on the edges.

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"Sorry," he said, and he was breathless, too. "That was out of line.""I don’t mind," I panted.

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He frowned at me in the darkness. "Try to sleep. Bella.""No, I want you to kiss me again.""You’re overestimating my self-control.""Which is tempting you more, my blood or my body?" I challenged.

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"It’s a tie." He grinned briefly in spite of himself, and then was serious again. "Now. why don’t you stoppushing your luck and go to sleep?""Fine," I agreed, snuggling closer to him. I really did feel exhausted. It had been a long day in so manyways, yet I felt no sense of relief at its end. Almost as if something worse was coming tomorrow. It was asilly premonition—what could be worse than today?’ Just the shock catching up with me, no doubt.

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Trying to be sneaky about it, I pressed my injured arm against his shoulder, so his cool skin would sooththe burning. It felt better at once.

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I was halfway asleep, maybe more, when I realized what his kiss had reminded me of: last spring, whenhe’d had to leave me to throw James off my trail, Edward had kissed me goodbye, not knowingwhen—or if—we would see each other again. This kiss had the same almost painful edge for somereason I couldn’t imagine. I shuddered into unconsciousness, as if I were already having a nightmare.

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