It's okay. We're okay,I thought toward the bump.
Edward turned me around, pulling me into his arms. I rested my head on his shoulder. My hands, instinctively, folded over my stomach.
I heard a little gasp and I looked up.
The woman was still there, hesitating in the doorway with her hands half-outstretched as if she had been looking for some way to help. Her eyes were locked on my hands, popping wide with shock. Her mouth hung open.
Then Edward gasped, too, and he suddenly turned to face the woman, pushing me slightly behind his body. His arm wrapped across my torso, like he was holding me back.
Suddenly, Kaure was shouting at him - loudly, furiously, her unintelligible words flying across the room like knives. She raised her tiny fist in the air and took two steps forward, shaking it at him. Despite her ferocity, it was easy to see the terror in her eyes.
Edward stepped toward her, too, and I clutched at his arm, frightened for the woman. But when he interrupted her tirade, his voice took me by surprise, especially considering how sharp he'd been with her when she wasn't screeching at him. It was low now; it was pleading. Not only that, but the sound was different, more guttural, the cadence off. I didn't think he was speaking Portuguese anymore.
For a moment, the woman stared at him in wonder, and then her eyes narrowed as she barked out a long question in the same alien tongue.
I watched as his face grew sad and serious, and he nodded once. She took a quick step back and crossed herself.
He reached out to her, gesturing toward me and then resting his hand against my cheek. She replied angrily again, waving her hands accusingly toward him, and then gestured to him. When she finished, he pleaded again with the same low, urgent voice.
Her expression changed - she stared at him with doubt plain on her face as he spoke, her eyes repeatedly flashing to my confused face. He stopped speaking, and she seemed to be deliberating something. She looked back and forth between the two of us, and then, unconsciously it seemed, took a step forward.
She made a motion with her hands, miming a shape like a balloon jutting out from her stomach. I started
- did her legends of the predatory blood-drinker include this? Could she possibly know something about what was growing inside me?
She walked a few steps forward deliberately this time and asked a few brief questions, which he responded to tensely. Then he became the questioner - one quick query. She hesitated and then slowly shook her head. When he spoke again, his voice was so agonized that I looked up at him in shock. His face was drawn with pain.
In answer, she walked slowly forward until she was close enough to lay her small hand on top of mine, over my stomach. She spoke one word in Portuguese.
"Morte,"she sighed quietly. Then she turned, her shoulders bent as if the conversation had aged her, and left the room.
I knew enough Spanish for that one.
Edward was frozen again, staring after her with the tortured expression fixed on his face. A few moments later, I heard a boat's engine putter to life and then fade into the distance.
Edward did not move until I started for the bathroom. Then his hand caught my shoulder.
"Where are you going?" His voice was a whisper of pain.
"To brush my teeth again."
"Don't worry about what she said. It's nothing but legends, old lies for the sake of entertainment."
"I didn't understand anything," I told him, though it wasn't entirely true. As if I could discount something because it was a legend. My life was circled by legend on every side. They were all true.
"I packed your toothbrush. I'll get it for you."
He walked ahead of me to the bedroom.
"Are we leaving soon?" I called after him.
"As soon as you're done."
He waited for my toothbrush to repack it, pacing silently around the bedroom. I handed it to him when I was finished.
"I'll get the bags into the boat."
"Edward - "
He turned back. "Yes?"
I hesitated, trying to think of some way to get a few seconds alone. "Could you... pack some of the food? You know, in case I get hungry again."
"Of course," he said, his eyes suddenly soft. "Don't worry about anything. We'll get to Carlisle in just a
few hours, really. This will all be over soon."
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
He turned and left the room, one big suitcase in each hand.
I whirled and scooped up the phone he'd left on the counter. It was very unlike him to forget things - to forget that Gustavo was coming, to leave his phone lying here. He was so stressed he was barely himself.
I flipped it open and scrolled through the preprogrammed numbers. I was glad he had the sound turned off, afraid that he would catch me. Would he be at the boat now? Or back already? Would he hear me from the kitchen if I whispered?
I found the number I wanted, one I had never called before in my life. I pressed the "send" button and crossed my fingers.
"Hello?" the voice like golden wind chimes answered.
"Rosalie?" I whispered. "It's Bella. Please. You have to help me."
BOOK TWO: JACOB
8. WAITING FOR THE DAMN FIGHT TO START ALREADY
"Jeez, Paul, don't you freaking have a home of your own?"
Paul, lounging across my whole couch, watching some stupid baseball game on my crappy TV, just grinned at me and then - real slow - he lifted one Dorito from the bag in his lap and wedged it into his mouth in one piece.
"You betterVe brought those with you."
Crunch. "Nope," he said while chewing. "Your sister said to go ahead and help myself to anything I wanted."
I tried to make my voice sound like I wasn't about to punch him. "Is Rachel here now?"