The Twilight Saga Complete Collection

by Stephenie Meyer

I stared without breathing across the long room, into the dark eyes of the hunter, and he looked pleasantly back at me. Surely it was a good way to die, in the place of someone else, someone I loved. Noble, even. That ought to count for something.

Forks High School had a frightening total of only three hundred and fifty-seven—now fifty-eight—students;

I didn’t relate well to people my age. Maybe the truth was that I didn’t relate well to people, period.

“Hey, Edward, I’m really sorry—” Tyler began. Edward lifted a hand to stop him. “No blood, no foul,” he said, flashing his brilliant teeth.

Then a doctor walked around the corner, and my mouth fell open. He was young, he was blond… and he was handsomer than any movie star I’d ever seen.

“You’re not going to let it go, are you?” “No.” “In that case… I hope you enjoy disappointment.”

Loving how spot on the movies are to this book so far...for the most part at least.

That was the first night I dreamed of Edward Cullen.

no one else was as aware of Edward as I always was. No one else watched him the way I did. How pitiful.

“It’s better if we’re not friends,” he explained. “Trust me.”

“It’s too bad you didn’t figure that out earlier,” I hissed through my teeth. “You could have saved yourself all this regret.” “Regret?” The word, and my tone, obviously caught him off guard. “Regret for what?” “For not just letting that stupid van squish me.”

“I decided as long as I was going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly.”

“What if I’m not a superhero? What if I’m the bad guy?”

“I smelled the blood,” I said, wrinkling my nose. Lee wasn’t sick from watching other people, like me. “People can’t smell blood,” he contradicted. “Well, I can—that’s what makes me sick. It smells like rust… and salt.” He was staring at me with an unfathomable expression. “What?” I asked. “It’s nothing.”

“The Cullens don’t come here,”

“The Cullens? Oh, they’re not supposed to come onto the reservation.”

“Oops. I’m not supposed to say anything about that.” “Oh, I won’t tell anyone, I’m just curious.”

“Do you know any of our old stories, about where we came from—the Quileutes, I mean?” he began. “Not really,” I admitted.

supposedly, the ancient Quileutes tied their canoes to the tops of the tallest trees on the mountain to survive like Noah and the ark.”

“Another legend claims that we descended from wolves—and that the wolves are our brothers still. It’s against tribal law to kill them.

“Then there are the stories about the cold ones.” His voice dropped a little lower. “The cold ones?” I ask...

“Yes. There are stories of the cold ones as old as the wolf legends, and some much more recent. According to legend, my own great-grandfather knew some of them. He was the one w...

“He was a tribal elder, like my father. 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.”

cold ones are traditionally our enemies. But this pack that came to our territory during my great-grandfather’s time was different. They didn’t hunt the way others of their kind did—they weren’t supposed to be dangerous to the tribe. So my great-grandfather made a truce with them. If they would promise to stay off our lands, we wouldn’t expose them to the pale-faces.”

“There’s always a risk for humans to be around the cold ones, even if they’re civilized like this clan was. You never know when they might get too hungry to resist.”

“They claimed that they didn’t hunt humans.

Are they like the cold ones your great-grandfather met?” “No.” He paused dramatically. “They are the same ones.”

“There are more of them now, a new female and a new male, but the rest are the same. In my great-grandfather’s time they already knew of the leader, Carlisle. He’d been here and gone before your people had even arrived.”

“And what are they?” I finally asked. “What are the cold ones?” He smiled darkly. “Blood drinkers,”

“Your people call them ...

I forced myself to focus on the two most vital questions I had to answer, but I did so unwillingly. First, I had to decide if it was possible that what Jacob had said about the Cullens could be true.

I listed again in my head the things I’d observed myself: the impossible speed and strength, the eye color shifting from black to gold and back again, the inhuman beauty, the pale, frigid skin. And more—small things that registered slowly—how they never seemed to eat, the disturbing grace with which they moved. And the way he sometimes spoke, with unfamiliar cadences and phrases that better fit the style of a turn-of-the-century novel than that of a twenty-first-century classroom. He had skipped class the day we’d done blood typing. He hadn’t said no to the beach trip till he heard where we were going. He seemed to know what everyone around him was thinking… except me. He had told me he was the villain, dangerous.…

After a few minutes, I suddenly realized I’d drawn five pairs of dark eyes staring out of the page at me. I scrubbed them out with the eraser.

“Well, except for Tyler,” Angela amended quietly. “Excuse me?” I gasped. “What did you say?” “Tyler told everyone he’s taking you to prom,”

Haha yeah right!!!

“That’s why Lauren doesn’t like you,”

Ahh that makes sense now

“Do I dazzle you?” “Frequently,”

“Did you ever think that maybe my number was up the first time, with the van, and that you’ve been interfering with fate?” I speculated, distracting myself. “That wasn’t the first time,” he said, and his voice was hard to hear. I stared at him in amazement, but he was looking down. “Your number was up the first time I met you.”

“Why do you think you can’t hear me?” I asked curiously. He looked at me, his eyes enigmatic. “I don’t know,” he murmured. “The only guess I have is that maybe your mind doesn’t work the same way the rest of theirs do. Like your thoughts are on the AM frequency and I’m only getting FM.” He grinned at me, suddenly amused. “My mind doesn’t work right? I’m a freak?”

“I hear voices in my mind and you’re worried that you’re the freak,”

“How old are you?” “Seventeen,” he answered promptly. “And how long have you been seventeen?” His lips twitched as he stared at the road. “A while,” he admitted at last.

“Don’t laugh—but how can you come out during the daytime?” He laughed anyway. “Myth.” “Burned by the sun?” “Myth.” “Sleeping in coffins?” “Myth.”

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.

“Hadn’t you noticed? I’m breaking all the rules now.”

“So you like him, then?” She wasn’t about to give up. “Yes,” I said curtly. “I mean, do you really like him?” she urged. “Yes,” I said again, blushing.

“Do you truly believe that you care more for me than I do for you?”

“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,”

My face reddened because, until very recently, my favorite gemstone was garnet. It was impossible, while staring back into his topaz eyes, not to remember the reason for the switch.

“It’s twilight,”

Suddenly Rosalie, his blond and breathtaking sister, turned to look at me. No, not to look—to glare, with dark, cold eyes. I wanted to look away, but her gaze held me until Edward broke off mid-sentence and made an angry noise under his breath. It was almost a hiss.

“I’m sorry about that. She’s just worried. You see… it’s dangerous for more than just me if, after spending so much time with you so publicly…”