My eyes, in particular, were much too frightening right now. How long before my selfcontrol and my eye color were ready for Charlie?
“What’s the matter, Bella?” Jasper asked quietly, reading my growing tension. “No one is angry with you”—a low snarl from the riverside contradicted him, but he ignored it —“or even surprised, really. Well, I suppose we
are
surprised. Surprised that you were able to snap out of it so quickly. You did well. Better than anyone expects of you.”
While he was speaking, the room became very calm. Seth’s breathing slipped into a low snore. I felt more peaceful, but I didn’t forget my anxieties.
“I was thinking about Charlie, actually.”
Out front, the bickering cut off.
“Ah,” Jasper murmured.
“We really have to leave, don’t we?” I asked. “For a while, at the very least. Pretend we’re in Atlanta or something.”
I could feel Edward’s gaze locked on my face, but I looked at Jasper. He was the one who answered me in a grave tone.
“Yes. It’s the only way to protect your father.”
I brooded for a moment. “I’m going to miss him so much. I’ll miss everyone here.”
Jacob,
I thought, despite myself. Though that yearning was both vanished and defined —and I was vastly relieved that it was—he was still my friend. Someone who knew the real me and accepted her. Even as a monster.
I thought about what Jacob had said, pleading with me before I’d attacked him.
You said we belonged in each other’s lives, right? That we were family. You said that was how you and I were supposed to be. So… now we are. It’s what you wanted.
But it didn’t feel like how I’d wanted it. Not exactly. I remembered further back, to the fuzzy, weak memories of my human life. Back to the very hardest part to remember— the time without Edward, a time so dark I’d tried to bury it in my head. I couldn’t get the words exactly right; I only remembered wishing that Jacob were my brother so that we could love each other without any confusion or pain. Family. But I’d never factored a daughter into the equation.
I remembered a little later—one of the many times that I’d told Jacob goodbye— wondering aloud who he would end up with, who would make his life right after what I’d done to it. I had said something about how whoever she was, she wouldn’t be good enough for him.
I snorted, and Edward raised one eyebrow questioningly. I just shook my head at him.
But as much as I might miss my friend, I knew there was a bigger problem. Had Sam or Jared or Quil ever gone a whole day without seeing the objects of their fixations, Emily, Kim, and Claire?
Could
they? What would the separation from Renesmee do to Jacob? Would it cause him pain?
There was still enough petty ire in my system to make me glad, not for his pain, but for the idea of having Renesmee away from him. How was I supposed to deal with having her belong to Jacob when she only barely seemed to belong to me?
The sound of movement on the front porch interrupted my thoughts. I heard them get up, and then they were through the door. At exactly the same time, Carlisle came down the stairs with his hands full of odd things—a measuring tape, a scale. Jasper darted to my side. As if there was some signal I’d missed, even Leah sat down outside and stared through the window with an expression like she was expecting something that was both familiar and also totally uninteresting.
“Must be six,” Edward said.
“So?” I asked, my eyes locked on Rosalie, Jacob, and Renesmee. They stood in the doorway, Renesmee in Rosalie’s arms. Rose looked wary. Jacob looked troubled. Renesmee looked beautiful and impatient.
“Time to measure Ness—er, Renesmee,” Carlisle explained.
“Oh. You do this every day?”
“Four times a day,” Carlisle corrected absently as he motioned the others toward the couch. I thought I saw Renesmee sigh.
“Four times? Every day?
Why?”
“She’s still growing quickly,” Edward murmured to me, his voice quiet and strained. He squeezed my hand, and his other arm wrapped securely around my waist, almost as if he needed the support.
I couldn’t take my eyes off Renesmee to check his expression.
She looked perfect, absolutely healthy. Her skin glowed like backlit alabaster; the color in her cheeks was rose petals against it. There couldn’t be anything wrong with such radiant beauty. Surely there could be nothing more dangerous in her life than her mother. Could there?
The difference between the child I’d given birth to and the one I’d met again an hour ago would have been obvious to anyone. The difference between Renesmee an hour ago and Renesmee now was subtler. Human eyes never would have detected it. But it was there.
Her body was slightly longer. Just a little bit slimmer. Her face wasn’t quite as round; it was more oval by one minute degree. Her ringlets hung a sixteenth of an inch lower down her shoulders. She stretched out helpfully in Rosalie’s arms while Carlisle ran the tape measure down the length of her and then used it to circle her head. He took no notes; perfect recall.
I was aware that Jacob’s arms were crossed as tightly over his chest as Edward’s arms were locked around me. His heavy brows were mashed together into one line over his deep-set eyes.
She had matured from a single cell to a normal-sized baby in the course of a few weeks. She looked well on her way to being a toddler just days after her birth. If this rate of growth held…
My vampire mind had no trouble with the math.
“What do we do?” I whispered, horrified.
Edward’s arms tightened. He understood exactly what I was asking. “I don’t know.”
“It’s slowing,” Jacob muttered through his teeth.
“We’ll need several more days of measurements to track the trend, Jacob. I can’t make any promises.”
“Yesterday she grew two inches. Today it’s less.”
“By a thirty-second of an inch, if my measurements are perfect,” Carlisle said quietly.
“
Be
perfect, Doc,” Jacob said, making the words almost threatening. Rosalie stiffened.
“You know I’ll do my best,” Carlisle assured him.
Jacob sighed. “Guess that’s all I can ask.”
I felt irritated again, like Jacob was stealing my lines—and delivering them all wrong.
Renesmee seemed irritated, too. She started to squirm and then reached her hand imperiously toward Rosalie. Rosalie leaned forward so that Renesmee could touch her face. After a second, Rose sighed.
“What does she want?” Jacob demanded, taking my line again. “Bella, of course,” Rosalie told him, and her words made my insides feel a little warmer. Then she looked at me. “How are you?”
“Worried,” I admitted, and Edward squeezed me.
“We all are. But that’s not what I meant.”
“I’m in control,” I promised. Thirstiness was way down the list right now. Besides, Renesmee smelled good in a very non-food way.
Jacob bit his lip but made no move to stop Rosalie as she offered Renesmee to me. Jasper and Edward hovered but allowed it. I could see how tense Rose was, and I wondered how the room felt to Jasper right now. Or was he focusing so hard on me that he couldn’t feel the others?
Renesmee reached for me as I reached for her, a blinding smile lighting her face. She fit so easily in my arms, like they’d been shaped just for her. Immediately, she put her hot little hand against my cheek.
Though I was prepared, it still made me gasp to see the memory like a vision in my head. So bright and colorful but also completely transparent.
She was remembering me charging Jacob across the front lawn, remembering Seth leaping between us. She’d seen and heard it all with perfect clarity. It didn’t look like
me
, this graceful predator leaping at her prey like an arrow arcing from a bow. It had to be someone else. That made me feel a very small bit less guilty as Jacob stood there defenselessly with his hands raised in front of him. His hands did not tremble.
Edward chuckled, watching Renesmee’s thoughts with me. And then we both winced as we heard the crack of Seth’s bones.
Renesmee smiled her brilliant smile, and her memory eyes did not leave Jacob through all the following mess. I tasted a new flavor to the memory—not exactly protective, more possessive—as she watched Jacob. I got the distinct impression that she was
glad
Seth had put himself in front of my spring. She didn’t want Jacob hurt. He was
hers
.
“Oh, wonderful,” I groaned. “Perfect.”
“It’s just because he tastes better than the rest of us,” Edward assured me, voice stiff with his own annoyance.
“I told you she likes me, too,” Jacob teased from across the room, his eyes on Renesmee. His joking was halfhearted; the tense angle of his eyebrows had not relaxed.
Renesmee patted my face impatiently, demanding my attention. Another memory: Rosalie pulling a brush gently through each of her curls. It felt nice.
Carlisle and his tape measure, knowing she had to stretch and be still. It was not interesting to her.
“It looks like she’s going to give you a rundown of everything you missed,” Edward commented in my ear.
My nose wrinkled as she dumped the next one on me. The smell coming from a strange metal cup—hard enough not to be bitten through easily—sent a flash burn through my throat. Ouch.
And then Renesmee was out of my arms, which were pinned behind my back. I didn’t struggle with Jasper; I just looked at Edward’s frightened face.
“What did I do?”
Edward looked at Jasper behind me, and then at me again.
“But she was remembering being thirsty,” Edward muttered, his forehead pressing into lines. “She was remembering the taste of human blood.”
Jasper’s arms pulled mine tighter together. Part of my head noted that this wasn’t particularly uncomfortable, let alone painful, as it would have been to a human. It was just annoying. I was sure I could break his hold, but I didn’t fight it.
“Yes,” I agreed. “And?”
Edward frowned at me for a second more, and then his expression loosened. He laughed once. “And nothing at all, it seems. The overreaction is mine this time. Jazz, let her go.”
The binding hands disappeared. I reached out for Renesmee as soon as I was free. Edward handed her to me without hesitation.
“I can’t understand,” Jasper said. “I can’t bear this.”
I watched in surprise as Jasper strode out the back door. Leah moved to give him a wide margin of space as he paced to the river and then launched himself over it in one bound.
Renesmee touched my neck, repeating the scene of departure right back, like an instant replay. I could feel the question in her thought, an echo of mine.
I was already over the shock of her odd little gift. It seemed an entirely natural part of her, almost to be expected. Maybe now that I was part of the supernatural myself, I would never be a skeptic again.
But what was wrong with Jasper?
“He’ll be back,” Edward said, whether to me or Renesmee, I wasn’t sure. “He just needs a moment alone to readjust his perspective on life.” There was a grin threatening at the corners of his mouth.
Another human memory—Edward telling me that Jasper would feel better about himself if I “had a hard time adjusting” to being a vampire. This was in the context of a discussion about how many people I would kill my first newborn year. “Is he mad at me?” I asked quietly.
Edward’s eyes widened. “No. Why would he be?”
“What’s the matter with him, then?”
“He’s upset with himself, not you, Bella. He’s worrying about… self-fulfilling prophecy, I suppose you could say.”
“How so?” Carlisle asked before I could.
“He’s wondering if the newborn madness is really as difficult as we’ve always thought, or if, with the right focus and attitude, anyone could do as well as Bella. Even now— perhaps he only has such difficulty because he believes it’s natural and unavoidable. Maybe if he expected more of himself, he would rise to those expectations. You’re making him question a lot of deep-rooted assumptions, Bella.”
“But that’s unfair,” Carlisle said. “Everyone is different; everyone has their own challenges. Perhaps what Bella is doing goes beyond the natural. Maybe this is her gift, so to speak.”
I froze with surprise. Renesmee felt the change, and touched me. She remembered the last second of time and wondered why.
“That’s an interesting theory, and quite plausible,” Edward said.
For a tiny space, I was disappointed. What? No magic visions, no formidable offensive abilities like, oh, shooting lightning bolts from my eyes or something? Nothing helpful or cool at all?
And then I realized what that might mean, if my “superpower” was no more than exceptional self-control.
For one thing, at least I had a gift. It could have been nothing.
But, much more than that, if Edward was right, then I could skip right over the part I’d feared the very most.
What if I didn’t have to be a newborn? Not in the crazed killing-machine sense, anyway. What if I could fit right in with the Cullens from my first day? What if we didn’t have to hide out somewhere remote for a year while I “grew up”? What if, like Carlisle, I never killed a single person? What if I could be a good vampire right away?
I could see Charlie.
I sighed as soon as reality filtered through hope. I couldn’t see Charlie right away. The eyes, the voice, the perfected face. What could I possibly say to him; how could I even begin? I was furtively glad that I had some excuses for putting things off for a while; as much as I wanted to find some way to keep Charlie in my life, I was terrified of that first meeting. Seeing his eyes pop as he took in my new face, my new skin. Knowing that he was frightened. Wondering what dark explanation would form in his head.
I was chicken enough to wait for a year while my eyes cooled. And here I’d thought I would be so fearless when I was indestructible.
“Have you ever seen an equivalent to self-control as a talent?” Edward asked Carlisle. “Do you really think that’s a gift, or just a product of all her preparation?”
Carlisle shrugged. “It’s slightly similar to what Siobhan has always been able to do, though she wouldn’t call it a gift.”
“Siobhan, your friend in that Irish coven?” Rosalie asked. “I wasn’t aware that she did anything special. I thought it was Maggie who was talented in that bunch.”
“Yes, Siobhan thinks the same. But she has this way of deciding her goals and then almost…
willing
them into reality. She considers it good planning, but I’ve always wondered if it was something more. When she included Maggie, for instance. Liam was very territorial, but Siobhan wanted it to work out, and so it did.”