Without looking, I knew that Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper had all turned to stare at Alice. She shrugged. She couldn’t see what had passed, only what was coming.
She looked ahead for me now. We both processed what she saw in her head, and we were both surprised.
“You’re leaving?” she whispered.
The others stared at me now.
“Am I?” I snarled through my teeth.
She saw it then, as my resolve wavered and another choice spun my future in a darker direction.
“Oh.”
Bella Swan, dead. My eyes, glowing crimson with fresh blood. The search that would follow. The careful time we would wait before it was safe for us to pull out of Forks and start again…
“Oh,” she said again. The picture grew more specific. I saw the inside of Chief Swan’s house for the first time, saw Bella in a small kitchen with yellow cupboards, her back to me as I stalked her from the shadows, let the scent pull me toward her.…
“Stop!” I groaned, not able to bear more.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
The monster rejoiced.
And the vision in her head shifted again. An empty highway at night, the trees beside it coated in snow, flashing by at almost two hundred miles per hour.
“I’ll miss you,” she said. “No matter how short a time you’re gone.”
Emmett and Rosalie exchanged an apprehensive glance.
We were almost to the turnoff onto the long drive that led to our home.
“Drop us here,” Alice instructed. “You should tell Carlisle yourself.”
I nodded, and the car squealed to a sudden stop.
Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper got out in silence; they would make Alice explain when I was gone. Alice touched my shoulder.
“You will do the right thing,” she murmured. Not a vision this time—an order. “She’s Charlie Swan’s only family. It would kill him, too.”
“Yes,” I said, agreeing only with the last part.
She slid out to join the others, her eyebrows pulling together in anxiety. They melted into the woods, out of sight before I could turn the car around.
I knew the visions in Alice’s head would be flashing from dark to bright like a strobe light as I sped back to Forks doing ninety. I wasn’t sure where I was going. To say goodbye to my father? Or to embrace the monster inside me? The road flew away beneath my tires.
2. OPEN BOOK
I LEANED BACK AGAINST THE SOFT SNOWBANK, LETTING THE DRY POWDER reshape itself around my weight. My skin had cooled to match the air around me, and the tiny pieces of ice felt like velvet under my skin.
The sky above me was clear, brilliant with stars, glowing blue in some places, yellow in others. The stars created majestic, swirling shapes against the black backdrop of the empty universe—an awesome sight. Exquisitely beautiful. Or rather, it should have been exquisite. Would have been, if I’d been able to really see it.
It wasn’t getting any better. Six days had passed, six days I’d hidden here in the empty Denali wilderness, but I was no closer to freedom than I had been since the first moment I’d caught her scent.
When I stared up at the jeweled sky, it was as if there were an obstruction between my eyes and its beauty. The obstruction was a face, just an unremarkable human face, but I couldn’t quite seem to banish it from my mind.
I heard the approaching thoughts before I heard the footsteps that accompanied them. The sound of movement was only a faint whisper against the powder.
I was not surprised that Tanya had followed me here. I knew she’d been mulling over this coming conversation for the last few days, putting it off until she was sure of exactly what she wanted to say.
She sprang into sight about sixty yards away, leaping onto the tip of an outcropping of black rock and balancing there on the balls of her bare feet.
Tanya’s skin was silver in the starlight, and her long blond curls shone pale, almost pink with their strawberry tint. Her amber eyes glinted as she spied me, half-buried in the snow, and her full lips stretched slowly into a smile.
Exquisite. If I’d really been able to see her. I sighed.
She hadn’t dressed for human eyes; she wore only a thin cotton camisole and a pair of shorts. Crouching down on a promontory of stone, she touched the rock with her fingertips, and her body coiled.
Cannonball, she thought.
She launched herself into the air. Her shape became a dark, twisting shadow as she spun gracefully between the stars and me. She curled herself into a ball just as she struck the piled snowbank beside me.
A blizzard of snow flew up around me. The stars went black and I was buried deep in the feathery ice crystals.
I sighed again, breathing in the ice, but didn’t move to unearth myself. The blackness under the snow neither hurt nor improved the view. I still saw the same face.
“Edward?”
Then snow was flying again as Tanya swiftly disinterred me. She brushed the powder from my skin, not quite meeting my gaze.
“Sorry,” she murmured. “It was a joke.”
“I know. It was funny.”
Her mouth twisted down.
“Irina and Kate said I should leave you alone. They think I’m annoying you.”
“Not at all,” I assured her. “On the contrary, I’m the one who’s being rude—abominably rude. I’m very sorry.”
You’re going home, aren’t you? she thought.
“I haven’t… entirely… decided that yet.”
But you’re not staying here. Her thought was wistful now.
“No. It doesn’t seem to be… helping.”
Her lips pushed out into a pout. “That’s my fault, isn’t it?”
“Of course not.” She hadn’t made anything easier, for certain, but the face that haunted me was the only true impediment.
Don’t be a gentleman.
I smiled.
I make you uncomfortable, she accused.
“No.”
She raised one eyebrow, her expression so disbelieving that I had to laugh. One short laugh, followed by another sigh.
“All right,” I admitted. “A little bit.”
She sighed, too, and put her chin in her hands.
“You’re a thousand times lovelier than the stars, Tanya. Of course, you’re already well aware of that. Don’t let my stubbornness undermine your confidence.” I chuckled at the unlikeliness of that.
“I’m not used to rejection,” she grumbled, her lower lip pushing out into an attractive pout.
“Certainly not,” I agreed, trying with little success to block out her thoughts as she fleetingly sifted through memories of her thousands of successful conquests. Mostly, Tanya preferred human men—they were much more populous for one thing, with the added advantage of being soft and warm. And always eager, definitely.
“Succubus,” I teased, hoping to interrupt the images flickering in her head.
She grinned, flashing her teeth. “The original.”
Unlike Carlisle, Tanya and her sisters had discovered their consciences slowly. In the end, it was their fondness for human men that turned them against the slaughter. Now the men they loved… lived.
“When you showed up here,” Tanya said slowly, “I thought that…”
I’d known what she’d thought. And I should have guessed that she would feel that way. But I’d not been at my best for analytical thinking in that moment.