And they were gone.
We stood there, the others looking away from me as the tears streaked noiselessly down my face.
The silent moment dragged on, and then Esme's phone vibrated in her hand. It flashed to her ear.
"Now," she said. Rosalie stalked out the front door without another glance in my direction, but Esme touched my cheek as she passed.
"Be safe." Her whisper lingered behind them as they slipped out the door. I heard my truck start thunderously, and then fade away.
Jasper and Alice waited. Alice's phone seemed to be at her ear before it buzzed.
"Edward says the woman is on Esme's trail. I'll get the car." She vanished into the shadows the way Edward had gone.
Jasper and I looked at each other. He stood across the length of the entryway from me… being careful.
"You're wrong, you know," he said quietly.
"What?" I gasped.
"I can feel what you're feeling now — and you are worth it."
"I'm not," I mumbled. "If anything happens to them, it will be for nothing."
"You're wrong," he repeated, smiling kindly at me.
I heard nothing, but then Alice stepped through the front door and came toward me with her arms held out.
"May I?" she asked.
"You're the first one to ask permission." I smiled wryly.
She lifted me in her slender arms as easily as Emmett had, shielding me protectively, and then we flew out the door, leaving the lights bright behind us.
20. Impatience
When I woke up I was confused. My thoughts were hazy, still twisted up in dreams and nightmares; it took me longer than it should have to realize where I was.
This room was too bland to belong anywhere but in a hotel. The bedside lamps, bolted to the tables, were a dead giveaway, as were the long drapes made from the same fabric as the bedspread, and the generic watercolor prints on the walls.
I tried to remember how I got here, but nothing came at first.
I did remember the sleek black car, the glass in the windows darker than that on a limousine. The engine was almost silent, though we'd raced across the black freeways at more than twice the legal speed.
And I remembered Alice sitting with me on the dark leather backseat. Somehow, during the long night, my head had ended up against her granite neck. My closeness didn't seem to bother her at all, and her cool, hard skin was oddly comforting to me. The front of her thin cotton shirt was cold, damp with the tears that streamed from my eyes until, red and sore, they ran dry.
Sleep had evaded me; my aching eyes strained open even though the night finally ended and dawn broke over a low peak somewhere in California. The gray light, streaking across the cloudless sky, stung my eyes. But I couldn't close them; when I did, the images that flashed all too vividly, like still slides behind my lids, were unbearable.
Charlie's broken expression — Edward's brutal snarl, teeth bared — Rosalie's resentful glare — the keen-eyed scrutiny of the tracker — the dead look in Edward's eyes after he kissed me the last time… I couldn't stand to see them. So I fought against my weariness and the sun rose higher.
I was still awake when we came through a shallow mountain pass and the sun, behind us now, reflected off the tiled rooftops of the Valley of the Sun. I didn't have enough emotion left to be surprised that we'd made a three-day journey in one. I stared blankly at the wide, flat expanse laid out in front of me. Phoenix — the palm trees, the scrubby creosote, the haphazard lines of the intersecting freeways, the green swaths of golf courses and turquoise splotches of swimming pools, all submerged in a thin smog and embraced by the short, rocky ridges that weren't really big enough to be called mountains.
The shadows of the palm trees slanted across the freeway — defined, sharper than I remembered, paler than they should be. Nothing could hide in these shadows. The bright, open freeway seemed benign enough. But I felt no relief, no sense of homecoming.
"Which way to the airport, Bella?" Jasper had asked, and I flinched, though his voice was quite soft and unalarming. It was the first sound, besides the purr of the car, to break the long night's silence.
"Stay on the I-ten," I'd answered automatically. "We'll pass right by it."
My brain had worked slowly through the fog of sleep deprivation.
"Are we flying somewhere?" I'd asked Alice.
"No, but it's better to be close, just in case."
I remembered beginning the loop around Sky Harbor International… but not ending it.
I suppose that must have been when I'd fallen asleep.
Though, now that I'd chased the memories down, I did have a vague impression of leaving the car — the sun was just falling behind the horizon — my arm draped over Alice's shoulder and her arm firm around my waist, dragging me along as I stumbled through the warm, dry shadows.
I had no memory of this room.
I looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. The red numbers claimed it was three o'clock, but they gave no indication if it was night or day. No edge of light escaped the thick curtains, but the room was bright with the light from the lamps.
I rose stiffly and staggered to the window, pulling back the drapes.
It was dark outside. Three in the morning, then. My room looked out on a deserted section of the freeway and the new long-term parking garage for the airport. It was slightly comforting to be able to pinpoint time and place.
I looked down at myself. I was still wearing Esme's clothes, and they didn't fit very well at all. I looked around the room, glad when I discovered my duffel bag on top of the low dresser.
I was on my way to find new clothes when a light tap on the door made me jump.
"Can I come in?" Alice asked.
I took a deep breath. "Sure."
She walked in, and looked me over cautiously. "You look like you could sleep longer,"
she said.
I just shook my head.
She drifted silently to the curtains and closed them securely before turning back to me.
"We'll need to stay inside," she told me.
"Okay." My voice was hoarse; it cracked.
"Thirsty?" she asked.
I shrugged. "I'm okay. How about you?"
"Nothing unmanageable." She smiled. "I ordered some food for you, it's in the front room. Edward reminded me that you have to eat a lot more frequently than we do."
I was instantly more alert. "He called?"
"No," she said, and watched as my face fell. "It was before we left."
She took my hand carefully and led me through the door into the living room of the hotel suite. I could hear a low buzz of voices coming from the TV. Jasper sat motionlessly at the desk in the corner, his eyes watching the news with no glimmer of interest.
I sat on the floor next to the coffee table, where a tray of food waited, and began picking at it without noticing what I was eating.
Alice perched on the arm of the sofa and stared blankly at the TV like Jasper.
I ate slowly, watching her, turning now and then to glance quickly at Jasper. It began to dawn on me that they were too still. They never looked away from the screen, though commercials were playing now. I pushed the tray away, my stomach abruptly uneasy.
Alice looked down at me.
"What's wrong, Alice?" I asked.
"Nothing's wrong." Her eyes were wide, honest… and I didn't trust them.