The Dark Side of the Moon

30. Impasse

My eyes opened to a bright, white light. I was in an unfamiliar room, a white room. The wall beside me was covered in long vertical blinds; over my head, the glaring lights blinded me. I was propped up on a hard, uneven bed — a bed with rails. The pillows were flat and lumpy. There was an annoying beeping sound somewhere close by. I hoped that meant I was still alive. Death shouldn't be this uncomfortable.

My hands were all twisted up with clear tubes, and something was taped across my face, under my nose.

I lifted my hand to rip it off.

"No, you don't." And cool fingers caught my hand.

"Edward?" I turned my head slightly, and his exquisite face was just inches from mine, his chin resting on the edge of my pillow. I realized again that I was alive, this time with gratitude and elation. "Oh, Edward, I'm so sorry!"

"Shhhh," he shushed me. "Everything's all right now."

"What happened?" I couldn't remember clearly, and my mind rebelled against me as I tried to recall.

"I was almost too late. I could have been too late," he whispered, his voice tormented.

"I was so stupid, Edward. I thought I could protect you."

"He tricked us all."

It was quiet for a moment, and I felt I had to come clean.

"It was all of them, to different degrees...Jessica was bullying me violently, and Phil comes once a year, acting like a second Charlie...but it was always him who caused the worst." I couldn't meet his eyes as I said it, and my head was too foggy to elaborate further.

"I didn't think you were making it all up...by the time we found you it was obvious that the excuses you gave were half-truths," he paused, upset but still calm. "I'm not mad, Bella. I understand."

I sighed, the movement causing me to wince and groan at the pain. His hands fluttered all over, trying to find a safe place to hold me, settling for holding my hand again. We sat for a moment then, both taking in the other as we stared into each others eyes. I could see he was sincere in this, and I knew he could see there was nothing to hide in mine at last as he gave a gentle nod.

"You knew where to find me," I realized through the haze.

"Alice saw...she couldn't see you until moments before we came. That stupid mutt..."

"She couldn't see me?" I tried to sit up, but the spinning in my head accelerated, and his hand pushed me gently down onto the pillows.

"She never stopped trying," he promised. "But the Blacks...They're not what you think."

"And you're not going to elaborate on that?"

He sighed, rubbing his forhead in exasperation.

"I could smell them as soon as I entered the house...Bella, we aren't always the most dangerous creatures out there. Jacob—the Quilettes—are descended from wolves." He watched me carefully as he said this.

"Like...werewolves?" I asked carefully, keeping my voice even. "So the legends are right? Does Jacob know?"

"No, he's not transformed yet...As far as I could tell, he still thinks of them as legends, despite the blood running through his veins," he paused. "We think that his presence at your house blocked Alice's visions from coming through, but I can tell he had no idea you were anywhere around."

I paused, remembering something as if from a dream...an angel—Edward—and my father, lots of blood....

"What happened?" I panicked. I had no interest in being soothed. I pushed aside the thought of the gossip that would definitely come from this. "What does the town think happened?"