What if I could stop that from happening ever again? What if I could protect him? Protect Renesmee? What if there was even the faintest glimmer of a possibility that I could shield them, too?
"You have to teach me what to do!" I insisted, unthinkingly grabbing Kate's arm. "You have to show me how!"
Kate winced at my grip. "Maybe - if you stop trying to crush my radius."
"Oops! Sorry!"
"You're shielding, all right," Kate said. "That move should have about shocked your arm off. You didn't feel
anything just now?"
"That wasn't really necessary, Kate. She didn't mean any harm," Edward muttered under his breath. Neither of us paid attention to him.
"No, I didn't feel anything. Were you doing your electric current thing?"
"I was. Hmm. I've never met anyone who couldn't feel it, immortal or otherwise."
"You said you project it? On your skin?"
Kate nodded. "It used to be just in my palms. Kind of like Aro."
"Or Renesmee," Edward interjected.
"But after a lot of practice, I can radiate the current all over my body. It's a good defense. Anyone who tries to touch me drops like a human that's been Tasered. It only downs him for a second, but that's long enough."
I was only half-listening to Kate, my thoughts racing around the idea that I might be able to protect my little family if I could just learn fast enough. I wished fervently that I might be good at this projecting thing, too, like I was somehow mysteriously good at all the other aspects of being a vampire. My human life had not prepared me for things that came naturally, and I couldn't make myself trust this aptitude to last.
It felt like I had never wanted anything so badly before this; to be able to protect what I loved.
Because I was so preoccupied, I didn't notice the silent exchange going on between Edward and Eleazar until it became a spoken conversation.
"Can you think of even one exception, though?" Edward asked.
I looked over to make sense of his comment and realized that everyone else was already staring at the two men. They were leaning toward each other intently, Edward's expression tight with suspicion, Eleazar's unhappy and reluctant.
"I don't want to think of them that way," Eleazar said through his teeth. I was surprised at the sudden change in the atmosphere.
"If you're right - ," Eleazar began again.
Edward cut him off. "The thought was yours, not mine."
"If I'm right... I can't even grasp what that would mean. It would change everything about the world we've created. It would change the meaning of my life. What I have been a part of."
"Your intentions were always the best, Eleazar."
"Would that even matter? What have I done? How many lives ..."
Tanya put her hand on Eleazar's shoulder in a comforting gesture. "What did we miss, my friend? I want to know so that I can argue with these thoughts. You've never done anything worth castigating yourself this way."
"Oh, haven't I?" Eleazar muttered. Then he shrugged out from under her hand and began his pacing again, faster even than before.
Tanya watched him for half a second and then focused on Edward. "Explain."
Edward nodded, his tense eyes following Eleazar as he spoke. "He was trying to understand why so many of
the Volturi would come to punish us. It's not the way they do things. Certainly, we are the biggest mature coven they've dealt with, but in the past other covens have joined to protect themselves, and they never presented much of a challenge despite their numbers. We are more closely bonded, and that's a factor, but not a huge one.
"He was remembering other times that covens have been punished, for one thing or the other, and a pattern occurred to him. It was a pattern that the rest of the guard would never have noticed, since Eleazar was the one passing the pertinent intelligence privately to Aro. A pattern that only repeated every other century or so."
"What was this pattern?" Carmen asked, watching Eleazar as Edward was.
"Aro does not often personally attend a punishing expedition," Edward said. "But in the past, when Aro wanted something in particular, it was never long before evidence turned up proving that this coven or that coven had committed some unpardonable crime. The ancients would decide to go along to watch the guard administer justice. And then, once the coven was all but destroyed, Aro would grant a pardon to one member whose thoughts, he would claim, were particularly repentant. Always, it