More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Jacob sauntered over to take her place by my side. He looked fourteen, maybe fifteen,
oh thats crazy
“Then there are the stories about the cold ones.” His voice dropped a little lower. “The cold ones?” I asked, not faking my intrigue now.
You see, the cold ones are the natural enemies of the wolf—well, not the wolf, really, but the wolves that turn into men, like our ancestors. You would call them werewolves.” “Werewolves have enemies?” “Only one.”
“So how does it fit in with the Cullens? Are they like the cold ones your great-grandfather met?” “No.” He paused dramatically. “They are the same ones.”
“I dazzle people?” “You haven’t noticed? Do you think everybody gets their way so easily?”
“Do I dazzle you?” “Frequently,” I admitted.
“Let’s say, hypothetically of course, that… someone… could know what people are thinking, read minds, you know—with a few exceptions.” “Just one exception,” he corrected, “hypothetically.”
You are a magnet for trouble. If there is anything dangerous within a ten-mile radius, it will invariably find you.” “And you put yourself into that category?” I guessed. His face turned cold, expressionless. “Unequivocally.”
“I could have let you go with Jessica and Angela, but I was afraid if you left me alone, I would go looking for them,” he admitted in a whisper.
“Tricked him how?” he asked. “I tried to flirt—it worked better than I thought it would.” Disbelief colored my tone as I remembered. “I’d like to have seen that.” He chuckled darkly. “And you accused me of dazzling people—poor Jacob Black.”
“How old are you?” “Seventeen,” he answered promptly. “And how long have you been seventeen?”
“Don’t laugh—but how can you come out during the daytime?” He laughed anyway. “Myth.” “Burned by the sun?” “Myth.” “Sleeping in coffins?”
“You haven’t asked me the most important question yet.” His voice was hard now, and when he looked at me again his eyes were cold. I blinked, still dazed. “Which one is that?” “You aren’t concerned about my diet?” he asked sarcastically.
“We’re usually very good at what we do. Sometimes we make mistakes. Me, for example, allowing myself to be alone with you.” “This is a mistake?” I heard the sadness in my voice,
sulky child. “I’m serious,” he growled. “So am I. I told you, it doesn’t matter what you are. It’s too late.” His voice whipped out, low and harsh. “Never say that.”
“You were going to fight them?” This upset him. “Didn’t you think about running?” “I fall down a lot when I run,” I admitted. “What about screaming for help?” “I was getting to that part.”
About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a vampire. Second, there was part of him—and I didn’t know how potent that part might be—that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.
It was a colossal tribute to his face that it kept my eyes away from his body.
but I pulled the jacket onto my lap, pushing my arms through the too-long sleeves, curious to see if the scent could possibly be as good as I remembered. It was better.
You take everything so coolly—it’s unnatural. It makes me wonder what you’re really thinking.” “I always tell you what I’m really thinking.” “You edit,” he accused. “Not very much.” “Enough to drive me insane.” “You don’t want to hear it,”
“I suppose you could say yes to the first… if you don’t mind—it’s easier than any other explanation.” “I don’t mind,” I said in a faint voice.
SCREAMINGGGGGGGG
How very inconvenient his little talent could be—when it wasn’t saving my life.
“I can’t explain it right… but he’s even more unbelievable behind the face.” The vampire who wanted to be good—who ran around saving people’s lives so he wouldn’t be a monster…
She’d had enough with the single syllable answers. “How much do you like him?” “Too much,” I whispered back. “More than he likes me. But I don’t see how I can help that.” I sighed, one blush blending into the next.
But outside the door to our Spanish class, leaning against the wall—looking more like a Greek god than anyone had a right to—Edward was waiting for me.
“Something you said to Jessica… well, it bothers me.” He refused to be distracted. His voice was husky, and he glanced up from under his lashes with troubled eyes. “I’m not surprised you heard something you didn’t like. You know what they say about eavesdroppers,” I reminded him.
“I warned you I would be listening.” “And I warned you that you didn’t want to know everything I was thinking.” “You did,”
“Do you truly believe that you care more for me than I do for you?” he murmured, leaning closer to me as he spoke, his dark golden eyes piercing.
“You’re doing it again,” I muttered. His eyes opened wide with surprise. “What?” “Dazzling me,” I admitted, trying to concentrate as I looked back at him.
“Trust me just this once—you are the opposite of ordinary.”
If I had to, I supposed I could purposefully put myself in danger to keep him close.…
“Of all the things about me that could frighten you, you worry about my driving.”
“As it happens, I don’t mind being alone with you.” “I know,” he sighed,
“You should tell Charlie, though.” “Why in the world would I do that?” His eyes were suddenly fierce. “To give me some small incentive to bring you back.”
“Are you like a bear, too?” I asked in a low voice. “More like the lion, or so they tell me,” he said lightly. “Perhaps our preferences are indicative.”
He grinned back, his eyes somehow managing to smolder, even in the dark. I looked away before I could start hyperventilating. It was absolutely ridiculous that I should feel dizzy.
The overpowering craving to touch him also refused to fade, and I crushed my fists safely against my ribs until my fingers were aching with the effort.
“I don’t like it,” he muttered anyway. “You don’t have to,” I snapped. “He looks at you like… like you’re something to eat,”
“What?” I demanded. His eyes slid back to mine, still tight. “Newton’s getting on my nerves.” “You weren’t listening again?” I was horror-struck.
“Will you forgive me if I apologize?” “Maybe… if you mean it. And if you promise not to do it again,” I insisted. His eyes were suddenly shrewd. “How about if I mean it, and I agree to let you drive Saturday?”
“Tomorrow it’s my turn.” “Your turn to what?” He smiled wider, flashing his gleaming teeth. “Ask the questions.”
When I heard the cruiser pull away, I could only wait a few seconds before I had to peek out of my window. The silver car was already there, waiting in Charlie’s spot on the driveway.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I confessed, automatically swinging my hair around my shoulder to provide some measure of cover. “Neither could I,” he teased
“So what did you do last night?” I asked. He chuckled. “Not a chance. It’s my day to ask questions.”
“Sure. Brown is warm. I miss brown. Everything that’s supposed to be brown—tree trunks, rocks, dirt—is all covered up with squashy green stuff here,” I complained.
“You’re right,” he decided, serious again. “Brown is warm.” He reached over, swiftly, but somehow still hesitantly, to sweep my hair back behind my shoulder.
Such as the time he asked my favorite gemstone, and I blurted out topaz before thinking.
It was impossible, while staring back into his topaz eyes, not to remember the reason for the switch.
“How late is it?”
“It’s twilight,”
