Breaking Dawn - Meyer Stephenie (читать книги онлайн регистрации .txt) 📗

“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.”