New Moon (Twilight, #2)

by Stephenie Meyer

I slammed into him so hard that the force would have hurled me to the ground if his arms hadn’t caught me and held me up. It knocked my breath out of me and snapped my head back. His dark eyes opened slowly as the clock tolled again. He looked down at me with quiet surprise. “Amazing,” he said, his exquisite voice full of wonder, slightly amused. “Carlisle was right.” “Edward,” I tried to gasp, but my voice had no sound. “You’ve got to get back into the shadows. You have to move!” He seemed bemused. His hand brushed softly against my cheek. He didn’t appear to notice that I was trying to force him back. I could have been pushing against the alley walls for all the progress I was making. The clock tolled, but he didn’t react. It was very strange, for I knew we were both in mortal danger. Still, in that instant, I felt well. Whole. I could feel my heart racing in my chest, the blood pulsing hot and fast through my veins again. My lungs filled deep with the sweet scent that came off his skin. It was like there had never been any hole in my chest. I was perfect—not healed, but as if there had been no wound in the first place. “I can’t believe how quick it was. I didn’t feel a thing—they’re very good,” he mused, closing his eyes again and pressing his lips against my hair. His voice was like honey and velvet. “Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty,” he murmured, and I recognized the line spoken by Romeo in the tomb. The clock boo...