The Girl Who Was Taken (Renesme Cullens Twin Sister)

Sixty-Six

We kissed for a very long time. He laced his fingers through my hair, and stumbled off his seat, pressing me against the bar. His lips were hungry for mine, after being apart for so long. He wanted me more than anything else. And I was eager to give myself to him in that moment. I hung my arms around his shoulders and had one leg hooked around his hip. And I'm sure we would have kissed all night long, for days or weeks or decades, we would have gone further and lost ourselves in each other if we were alone.

But Jane and Renesme stumbled out of the bathroom, drunk as sailors, leaning on each other. Jane was switching back and forth from Italian to English as she spoke, and sometimes throwing in completely different languages that even I didn't understand, which was saying something because the Volturi had made sure to make me fluent in all the commonly used languages around the world.

"Oh lord," she said, and mumbled something I didn't understand, before going back to Italian. "This is no time to be making babies." Then she switched back to English, "and in front of your own sister. You have no decency! No shame!"

"Stormy!" Renesme called, "You can't just make out with other people." They walked toward us, and Jane flopped up on the counter, hanging her head over the other side, looking for more alcohol. She came up with another bottle that was shaped intricately and had a long neck.

Demetri was still kissing me, but I broke the kiss to say, "Please. You were literally just making out with a complete stranger." Demetri kissed me down my neck, just his lips, not his teeth. Although part of me wanted that adrenaline rush back, at the feeling of his teeth slicing through my skin, and my head would go dizzy as warm blood spilled out, and I'd never really know if I was safe.

Jane pushed herself up, sitting on the countertop. She bumped into the glass that she had poured for Renesme, "Oh, here." She pushed it toward Renesme, who was leaning on a barstool, barely holding herself up. It sat on the counter, and she didn't acknowledge it. She kept her eyes narrowed at me in accusation.

"It's different," Renesme said. "I'm not in a relationship. You are."

I had to bite my lip to stop myself from moaning as Demetri sucked on a sensitive spot on my collarbone. I curled my fingers around the back of his shirt collar and pulled it, so he'd let up. "I mean, we never really talked about being in a relationship."

"Don't make excuses," Renesme slurred, "You're cheating."

Demetri finally pulled away, though he still held me close as he looked at Renesme. "They really did raise you to police everyone's morals. Have you ever stopped to wonder that the way you were raised isn't the only way to think? That there are other ways of living, and concepts of life and love and culture?" It was always strange to see him talking in English with the choppiness of the words, more clunky and slow.

She bristled at him, scrunching up on her barstool. "Of course," she said. "But the vegetarianism is the best solution for humans and vampires to live in peace."

"Carlisle's concept of vegetarianism is ridiculous. Calling it Vegetarianism is absurd. The very definition of that word denotes that of a person who does not eat meat or animals. Drinking their blood counts."

"We're not the only ones, we have cousins. The Denali coven—"

"The succubus," he said.

"They don't do that anymore."

"You're assuming," he said. Renesme rolled her eyes, and pulled herself up on her chair more, so that she could lean on the counter. He continued talking, "Your grandfather though, he's barely three and a half centuries old. But he was born in London, and has this idea in his head that he has a moral superiority, and needs to save everyone from themselves."