reality of that little stranger slipped further away.
"Renesmee," I agreed, rueful, and I whipped back up onto my feet, pulling him with me.
22. PROMISED
Thinking of Renesmee brought her to that center-stage place in my strange, new, and roomy but distractible mind. So many questions.
"Tell me about her," i insisted as he took my hand. Being linked barely slowed us.
"She's like nothing else in the world," he told me, and the sound of an almost religious devotion was there again in his voice.
I felt a sharp pang of jealousy over this stranger. He knew her and I did not. It wasn't fair.
"How much is she like you? How much like me? Or like I was, anyway."
"It seems a fairly even divide."
"She was warm-blooded," I remembered.
"Yes. She has a heartbeat, though it runs a little bit faster than a human's. Her temperature is a little bit hotter than usual, too. She sleeps."
"Really?"
"Quite well for a newborn. The only parents in the world who don't need sleep, and our child already sleeps through the night." He chuckled.
I liked the way he said our child. The words made her more real.
"She has exactly your color eyes - so that didn't get lost, after all." He smiled at me. "They're so beautiful."
"And the vampire parts?" I asked.
"Her skin seems about as impenetrable as ours. Not that anyone would dream of testing that."
I blinked at him, a little shocked.
"Of course no one would," he assured me again. "Her diet... well, she prefers to drink blood. Carlisle continues to try to persuade her to drink some baby formula, too, but she doesn't have much patience with it. Can't say that I
blame her - nasty-smelling stuff, even for human food."
I gaped openly at him now. He made it sound like they were having conversations. "Persuade her?"
"She's intelligent, shockingly so, and progressing at an immense pace. Though she doesn't speak - yet - she communicates quite effectively."
"Doesn't. Speak. Yet"
He slowed our pace further, letting me absorb this.
"What do you mean, she communicates effectively?" I demanded.
"I think it will be easier for you to... see for yourself. It's rather difficult to describe."
I considered that. I knew there was a lot that I needed to see for myself before it would be real. I wasn't sure how much more I was ready for, so I changed the subject.
"Why is Jacob still here?" I asked. "How can he stand it? Why should he?" My ringing voice trembled a little. "Why should he have to suffer more?"
"Jacob isn't suffering," he said in a strange new tone. "Though I might be willing to change his condition," Edward added through his teeth.
"Edward!" I hissed, yanking him to a stop (and feeling a little thrill of smugness that I was able to do it). "How can you say that? Jacob has given up everything to protect us! What I've put him through - !" I cringed at the dim memory of shame and guilt. It seemed odd now that I had needed him so much then. That sense of absence without him near had vanished; it must have been a human weakness.
"You'll see exactly how I can say that," Edward muttered. "I promised him that I would let him explain, but I doubt you'll see it much differently than I do. Of course, I'm often wrong about your thoughts, aren't I?" He pursed his lips and eyed me.
"Explain what?"
Edward shook his head. "I promised. Though I don't know if I really owe him anything at all anymore. . . ." His teeth ground together.
"Edward, I don't understand." Frustration and indignation took over my head.
He stroked my cheek and then smiled gently when my face smoothed out in response, desire momentarily overruling annoyance. "It's harder than you make it look, I know. I remember."
"I don't like feeling confused."
"I know. And so let's get you home, so that you can see it all for yourself." His eyes ran over the remains of my dress as he spoke of going home, and he frowned. "Hmm." After a half second of thought, he unbuttoned his white shirt and held it out for me to put my arms through.
"That bad?"
He grinned.
I slipped my arms into his sleeves and then buttoned it swiftly over my ragged bodice. Of course, that left him without a shirt, and it was impossible not to find that distracting.
'Til race you," I said, and then cautioned, "no throwing the game this time!"
He dropped my hand and grinned. "On your mark ..."