Breaking Dawn

Carlisle shifted, twisting to look expectantly at the door. Edward was through the door first, with Rosalie right on his heels. His face was, like his voice, no longer dead. He seemed intensely focused. Rosalie looked suspicious.

Edward shut the door behind her.

“Carlisle,” he murmured.

“What is it, Edward?”

“Perhaps we’ve been going about this the wrong way. I was listening to you and Jacob just now, and when you were speaking of what the… fetus wants, Jacob had an interesting thought.”

Me? What had I thought? Besides my obvious hatred for the thing? At least I wasn’t alone in that. I could tell that Edward had a difficult time using a term as mild as fetus.

“We haven’t actually addressed that angle,” Edward went on. “We’ve been trying to get Bella what she needs. And her body is accepting it about as well as one of ours would. Perhaps we should address the needs of the… fetus first. Maybe if we can satisfy it, we’ll be able to help her more effectively.”

“I’m not following you, Edward,” Carlisle said.

“Think about it, Carlisle. If that creature is more vampire than human, can’t you guess what it craves—what it’s not getting? Jacob did.”

I did? I ran through the conversation, trying to remember what thoughts I’d kept to myself. I remembered at the same time that Carlisle understood.

“Oh,” he said in a surprised tone. “You think it is… thirsty?”

Rosalie hissed under her breath. She wasn’t suspicious anymore. Her revoltingly perfect face was all lit up, her eyes wide with excitement. “Of course,” she muttered. “Carlisle, we have all that type O negative laid aside for Bella. It’s a good idea,” she added, not looking at me.

“Hmm.” Carlisle put his hand to his chin, lost in thought. “I wonder… And then, what would be the best way to administer. . . .”

Rosalie shook her head. “We don’t have time to be creative. I’d say we should start with the traditional way.”

“Wait a minute,” I whispered. “Just hold on. Are you—are you talking about making Bella drink blood?”

“It was your idea, dog,” Rosalie said, scowling at me without ever quite looking at me.

I ignored her and watched Carlisle. That same ghost of hope that had been in Edward’s face was now in the doctor’s eyes. He pursed his lips, speculating.

“That’s just . . .” I couldn’t find the right word.

“Monstrous?” Edward suggested. “Repulsive?”

“Pretty much.”

“But what if it helps her?” he whispered.

I shook my head angrily. “What are you gonna do, shove a tube down her throat?”

“I plan to ask her what she thinks. I just wanted to run it past Carlisle first.”

Rosalie nodded. “If you tell her it might help the baby, she’ll be willing to do anything. Even if we do have to feed them through a tube.”

I realized then—when I heard how her voice got all loveydovey as she said the word baby—that Blondie would be in line with anything that helped the little life-sucking monster. Was that what was going on, the mystery factor that was bonding the two of them? Was Rosalie after the kid?

From the corner of my eye, I saw Edward nod once, absently, not looking in my direction. But I knew he was answering my questions.

Huh. I wouldn’t have thought the ice-cold Barbie would have a maternal side. So much for protecting Bella—Rosalie’d probably jam the tube down Bella’s throat herself.

Edward’s mouth mashed into a hard line, and I knew I was right again.

“Well, we don’t have time to sit around discussing this,” Rosalie said impatiently. “What do you think, Carlisle? Can we try?”

Carlisle took a deep breath, and then he was on his feet. “We’ll ask Bella.”

Blondie smiled smugly—sure that, if it was up to Bella, she would get her way.

I dragged myself up from the stairs and followed after them as they disappeared into the house. I wasn’t sure why. Just morbid curiosity, maybe. It was like a horror movie. Monsters and blood all over the place.

Maybe I just couldn’t resist another hit of my dwindling drug supply.

Bella lay flat on the hospital bed, her belly a mountain under the sheet. She looked like wax—colorless and sort of see-through. You’d think she was already dead, except for the tiny movement of her chest, her shallow breathing. And then her eyes, following the four of us with exhausted suspicion.

The others were at her side already, flitting across the room with sudden darting motions. It was creepy to watch. I ambled along at a slow walk.

“What’s going on?” Bella demanded in a scratchy whisper. Her waxy hand twitched up—like she was trying to protect her balloon-shaped stomach.

“Jacob had an idea that might help you,” Carlisle said. I wished he would leave me out of it. I hadn’t suggested anything. Give the credit to her bloodsucking husband, where it belonged. “It won’t be… pleasant, but—”

“But it will help the baby,” Rosalie interrupted eagerly. “We’ve thought of a better way to feed him. Maybe.”