My phone burned a hole in my pocket for the rest of the week while I anxiously waited for it to ring. I tried to carry on with life as normal, but I was quickly slipping into my old depressive habits.
The first few days after meeting with the vampire, I had been able to keep busy. There was so much to do: internationally mail my letters, set up meetings with potential landlords, clean out my room, donate things I no longer needed. I could almost hear the clock constantly ticking, counting down until my last moments.
My experience with James had been so quick. There was practically no time to plan anything aside from a single letter to Edward. Not making any decisions had actually been key to escaping Alice's visions. Now I was drowning in preparation, trying to consider every one and every thing I had to take care of in my absence.
Ayanna's letter still sat tucked away in my desk drawer. It would be the single item that I left behind when I moved out, waiting for her on my stripped mattress after I was already long gone. The hardest part of this week had been planning how to methodically break her heart. With Charlie it had been easy. He wore his lingering wound on his sleeve: my mother leaving him and taking me with her. All I had to do was reaffirm his worst fear—that he wasn't worth staying for. Ayanna would be much harder to convince.
She was effortlessly confident in herself. She knew her worth and didn't accept anything less than what she deserved. But she also loved just as fiercely, and likely wouldn't let me go without a fight. I had to play my part perfectly or she would see directly through my façade. I hated trying to design a plan that would stun her enough that I could get away and keep her at a safe distance.
Which was why I still didn't know how I would pull it off.
I put off the inevitable by focusing on step one: finding a new apartment that I could afford.
I sat by myself on the Tube, missing the solitude of my beloved truck. Friday's commuters were packed tight around me in the late-afternoon rush to beat the evening traffic. The heat from so many bodies packed together was enough that I removed my coat for the near hour-long commute to Peckham.
I had plans to meet a man who posted an ad to sublet his apartment for a reasonable price. It would come furnished, leaving me with one less obstacle to overcome. The commute would certainly be a drawback, but I reminded myself that it would only be twice a week at most. The route involved traveling five miles in the Tube and crossing the River Thames. But I could find somewhere else to study—if I even bothered to continue—and at least I wouldn't risk passing Ayanna's route. She would be traveling in the opposite direction, meaning I would only have to avoid running into her directly on campus. After combing through apartment listings all week, it was the only prospect that was worth visiting. I pushed the creeping sense that it was too good to be true from my mind.
My body swayed as the Tube crawled to a stop at the next station. Passengers filed out of the car, and I double checked my location against the map displayed across the wall. From my seat, I could see the time on the station's clock. 4:36. I had just twenty four minutes to find the apartment if I wanted to be on time for my tour. I needed to make a good first impression if I hoped to get this opportunity, and being late would surely not make for a great start.
I leaned my head back against the glass window and closed my eyes. Tension was spreading across my forehead and I tried to push down the anxiety crawling its way out of the pit of my stomach. I meant to move up my monthly appointment with my therapist, but it had slipped my mind with everything else going on this week.
I felt movement next to me as a new passenger sat beside me, having to squeeze in tighter than the last. Instead of stifling warmth, there was a cool sensation against the side of my thigh. It was almost like...
I sat up straight, snapping my eyes open and clutching my arms around myself.
And there he was, beautiful as ever and sitting next to me like it was the most mundane part of his day.
"I can see how you're a magnet for vampires now. What was that little display? Your neck might as well've been a flashing billboard," he said a silky voice.
"Harry," I said, glancing around the car at the other humans. He sat there in a pair of jeans and a graphic t-shirt, but he was far from casual. No one seemed to notice the man sitting across from them with red eyes. They were all tending to their children, reading the newspaper, or chatting amongst themselves. Even if he didn't look like a monster, he was undeniably attractive. Why weren't they at least looking at him for that?
"Please at least try to not get yourself killed," he replied at a normal volume and no one even looked our way. "I don't want to have to babysit you on top of everything else."
His words rattled around my insides, carving out little pieces of me every time they scraped my edges. Edward had requested a similar sentiment that led me to be an adrenaline junkie for months, almost getting myself killed more than once. It had taken me a year to settle back into my careful wits, but every now and then I still itched to take my motorcycle for a joyride across the backroads of the Pacific Northwest.
"Sorry. I didn't know vampires were avid Tube commuters," I said without lowering my voice or censoring my words. He didn't seem to mind my declaration.
"Oh, you'd be surprised. It's easy to snatch a distracted human waiting a little too close to the tunnel." He smiles, as if remembering a fond memory. "And the predictability of when the next train arrives... the maintenance tunnels for a quick get away. It's almost too easy, if I'm being honest."
My stomach churned in disgust. I would never get used to the sickening advantage that vampires had over humans. We were nothing but livestock to them.
"Much easier than going out hunting for a mountain lion," he continued.
I turned away from him, simultaneously wishing that someone would notice my cry for help and that I would continue to be invisible. I wanted nothing more than for a kind woman to say there you are, I thought I'd never find you. Let's go, we're going to be late, as she hurried me away from this man who sat too close to me and had a sinister expression across his face.
"I thought you wanted to contact me over the phone? You said it was easier," I questioned.
"I'm old fashioned, Bella," he reminded me as if it explained everything. Instead I just wondered how old he really was. "I prefer speaking in person. And when I heard that you were planning on meeting some man across town after dark, I had to cancel some very important plans to escort you safely to and from."
"How did yo—"
"Now, I'd like for you to explain what's so important about this meeting that I had to inconvenience myself on such short notice," he said with a hint of annoyance in his tone.
"I'm looking for an apartment."
This surprised him. "In Peckham?"
"Yes."
"That's quite a ways from your university. Why would you move that far?"
"It's cheaper." I shifted in my seat, nervous under his constant scrutiny.
"Is that before or after all the Tube fares?"
"Peckham Rye Station," the automated voice announced from above us, allowing me to avoid his questions.
I stood, pulling my coat back on as I hurried towards the exit. Harry had no problem keeping up with my pace. He stood directly behind me on the rising escalators, making us the same height for the brief ride. I glanced over my shoulders and found myself staring directly into his bloody gaze.
From this distance, I could count his individual eye lashes if I wanted to. And the worst part was that I did want to—look into his eyes for hours on end...
"Don't trip," he whispered, and his spell over me was broken.
His warning came too late, we had reached the top while I was distracted and I almost face planted from forgetting to step off my moving stair. I steadied myself and walked confidently to the exit, despite having no idea where I was going when I got outside. I had printed the directions off and they sat folded inside my coat pocket, but I was too embarrassed to pull them out in front of Harry.
We emerged from the underground station and I took in my surroundings. It was much different than my neighborhood in Bloomsbury. There were street vendors on each side of the street, people walking quickly in every direction, and music blasting from the corner. I was overwhelmed with the onslaught of sensory input and I stood grounded in place.
"Move it!" someone exclaimed from behind me.
I jumped out of the way, no longer blocking the underground stairs.
"Keep with the flow of traffic," Harry chided.
I turned away from him and started walking—hopefully in the right direction. I pulled the directions out of my pocket and quickly scanned the page, trying not to let him see.
Rye Lane for half a mile, left on Scylla, all the way to the end of the road.
Harry snatched the papers out of my hands. "What is this?"
"Directions." I reached for them, and he unsurprisingly dodged my advances. He held the papers just out of reach, like I was a child. It took only a moment for him to scan the page and then crinkle them into a tight ball.
"You can't walk around a city with your nose in a map. You're asking to be robbed—or worse." He tossed the papers in the closest trash bin and started walking in the opposite direction.
"Well how am I supposed to get there now?" I called after him.
"You weren't getting there on your own. Follow me."
I had to jog to catch back up with him.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked.
"I told you already, I need you alive."
"For what?" This was the question I had been asking myself all week. What was so important about me that this vampire found value in my seemingly insignificant human life?
He didn't respond to that, and I didn't know what else to do other than to continue following him.
"It's a fifteen minute walk, unless you'd rather we run?" Harry laughed at his own joke.
I followed him in silence, taking note of the street signs we passed, in case he decided to abandon me. The number of people on the street gradually decreased as we got closer to the apartment. I tried to take note of the local necessities, like a grocery store or a public park, but only saw convenience stores and run down laundry mats.
"We're here," Harry finally declared.
I looked at the building and frowned. It didn't look like the picture on the advertisement at all. The trees had been cut down and the building's exterior had taken more wear and tear. How old was the picture he used?
I feigned confidence and walked to the correct apartment number. I checked my phone for the time before knocking, thankful when I saw that I had managed to arrive five minutes early—even if it was thanks to Harry.
"Who is it?" A man's voice called from the inside.
"Um, Bella. Bella Swan. I'm here to tour the apartment." I glanced back at Harry and he rolled his eyes.
"Go ahead and give him your social security number while you're at it."
The door swung open, revealing a sweaty middle aged man who smelled like he'd already been acquainted with a liquor bottle for several hours today. He was red in the face and out of breath. He only looked at me briefly before glancing over my shoulder, eyeing Harry with a wary expression.
"Come in," the man directed, and I crossed the threshold into the apartment. He shut the door behind us.
I would certainly be getting what I paid for. I could hear the neighbors banging around pots and pans in their kitchen like they were cooking in this apartment with me. The chill in the air led me to believe that there was either no heating unit or it didn't work.
The three of us stood in the cramped living room, breathing in an odor that I believed was the man's accumulated sweat soaking into the couch fabric. He pointed out the bedroom and bathroom, which was behind a room divider, since this was only a studio apartment.
"The deposit is half the amount of rent. First and last month's rent are due up front. No pets. Additional tenants are another hundred pounds per month. Utilities aren't included. I'm having the WiFi shut off before I leave, so you'll need to set up your own if you need that." He gestured to the furniture. "I'm leaving my furniture here, so feel free to use that. I'm thinking I'll be gone for six months at the most, so you'd have to be out by the end of May. It's your responsibility to hire a cleaner before I return."
I stood there, dumbfounded at what this man thought his apartment was worth.
Harry let out a low whistle behind me. "What. A. Deal! Bella, you really better jump on this one before someone else does."
This was for Ayanna's safety. I needed to be keep my distance from her to keep Harry away. I would sit at a cafe all day until I had to sleep. It would just be a place to stay overnight, I tried to tell myself. Just a place to sleep.
"I'll take it."
"What?" Harry exclaimed, laughing incredulously. "Honestly, what are you thinking? This place is a dump."
I looked at the man, fearful that Harry's insult would cause him to kick us out and end the deal, but he didn't seem to care. He just nodded. "I'll get the paperwork," he said before disappearing into the "bedroom."
"I'm thinking that I need a place to live that doesn't put anyone else's life at risk. You may need me alive, but you don't need my friends alive and I won't forget that."
Harry stared at me, his mouth agape. I didn't like the sight of his gleaning canine teeth. All traces of humor had been wiped clean from his face. "You think I'm going to kill your roommate, so you willing walk unarmed into a trap?"
"What?" It was my turn to be shocked now, and I tried not to raise my voice too much.
"Just a second! The paperwork is right here," the man called from the other side of the room.
I turned back to Harry. "I did not walk into a trap. I'm keeping my best friend safe." I instantly regretted admitting how much Ayanna meant to me out loud.
"Didn't walk into a trap? That man is currently arming himself to knock you unconscious," Harry explained, and my blood ran cold.
"Wha—He wouldn't do that with you here? You've got that big scary dog vibe about you."
From the bedroom, I heard the man turning up the volume on a radio.
"That man can't even see me! He thinks he's alone with you in this apartment," Harry shouted.
"What!" I was shrieking now, not caring if the man heard me or not. I turned towards the door but the man was already advancing from the other side of the room with a mallet raised above his head. He ran towards me and I dashed out of his trajectory, putting me further away from the exit.
Harry just stood there, watching it all unfold.
The man pivoted and turned back towards me. I wanted to scream but all the air had been sucked from every last alveoli. "Harry!" was all I managed to yelp before the man charged at me again. A loose cord got stuck on my leg and I yanked down an old television off a shoddy dresser as I fled from the man again.
"Keep it down!" The neighbor scolded from the other side of the wall, apparently unfazed by the ongoing disturbance.
Harry sighed. "This is really disappointing, Bella."
I picked up whatever I could find in the room—an old shoe, a remote, an empty glass—and threw them at the man. He narrowly missed the glass and it shattered against the wall.
"You bitch," he spat. "Don't make me do this the hard way."
Harry still stood there with his hands in his jean pockets. He didn't even have a hair out of place, while I was gasping for breath and fighting for my life.
"I thought you needed me alive," I screamed at him. The man was in front of me, blocking the only exit. I scanned the room for another exit—the window, anything—but I feared getting any further from the front door was a sure death sentence.
"Some of my clients don't care if you're alive or not," the man replied with a sickening smile.
I had no choice but to make a dash for the door. It was my only chance at survival. I readied my stance, reaching for one of the many empty beer bottles strewn across the room. I smashed it against the wall and held out the remaining shards as my only defense.
I faked left and then went right, and was surprised when the man actually fell for it. I made it halfway across the room when I felt his dirty hand wrap around my bicep and pull me backwards. I turned and used the last of my strength to shove the broken glass into his shoulder as hard as I could.
The man cried out in pain and stumbled backwards, dropping the mallet and grasping his injured shoulder. I fell to the ground and my make shift weapon shattered completely. Pushing off with my feet, I crawled backwards across the grimy floor. My back hit the door and I tried to stand, but everything moved with a delay like I was dreaming. I couldn't get my legs to support my body weight and the man was already refocusing on finishing me off. He held pressure to his wound with one hand and picked up the mallet with the other.
I watched in horror as the blood from his wound spilled faster and faster as he moved, seeping through his shirt and dripping on the ground. The smell of iron filled the air. He grasped the mallet with both hands now, one covered in blood that affected his grasp, and raised it above his head.
I hoped that it would be quick—that physics would be on my side as he knocked me unconscious; that I would be dead before I had a chance to feel the pain.
The man stepped forward, bringing the mallet down with all his strength. I refused to cower away from him and I stared him directly in the eyes until my final moment.
Everything that happened next occurred in slow motion. I saw Harry's figure step into the man's path and he caught the mallet with an underhand motion, just before it connected with my skull.
"That's enough," Harry growled. His voice was deeper than usual and slightly gravely.
From venom. It had to be the venom that would be flowing in excess into his mouth as he inhaled the rusty scent of the man's fresh blood.
The man screamed in horror, looking up and seeing Harry for what seemed like the first time. "Wha—Who the fuck are you?" he yelled.
"Bella, please don't move," Harry instructed in a gentler voice, without taking his eyes off the man.
In a flash, Harry had the man by the neck and dragged him behind the bedroom divider. I could see his silhouette as he towered over his prey, and between one moment and the next, he had latched onto the man's throat. There were brief attempts to scream, but it just came out as a gargled breath. In a matter of seconds, the apartment was silent.
I held my breath. If Harry was in hunting mode, would he turn on me next?
Another beat of silence, and Harry walked back into the main room. He pushed his curls back across his head with one hand and wiped a rivulet of blood dripping down his chin with the other. He sucked his thumb into his mouth, leaving him without a physical trace of what just occurred.
He remained across the room from me, but there was no doubt he could hear my heart pounding out of my chest. I waited for him to finally strike me down.
"Well, it was a shit apartment anyways," he said, shrugging his shoulders like it was the natural conclusion.
He crossed the room and outstretched his hand to me, I could still see the moisture from his mouth on it. I looked from it back to his face.
"We should probably leave the scene of the crime," he reminded me.
I didn't know what to say to him. He didn't appear to be interested in drinking my blood, but I avoided touching him and managed to stand up on my own. I steadied myself, still unsure if I would pass out.
I reached for the door knob.
"Ah! I'll get that," he said before unlocking and opening the front door. "No fingerprints and what not."
I just stared at him. Had the front door been locked that entire time?
"Are you always this pale?" Harry questioned, now more concerned with my condition.
"I think I need to eat."
This was the shock that Edward had been anticipating in Port Angeles. I now understood why he had been so careful with my condition. My hands were still shaking after I doused my face with ice cold water in the bathroom. We sat tucked inside a booth at the back of the first restaurant we passed on the street. I moved like a zombie through the motions and Harry only intervened when necessary—like when I almost walked into oncoming traffic.
He sat across from me, looking through the menu and commenting on the specials of the day. "I think I'd enjoy the lasagna. What about you darling?"
He was really playing up this whole "date" charade.
The waiter approached our table. "What can I get you two to drink?"
"Soda, please," I said, flatly. I couldn't even bring myself to look him in the eyes. He would probably see the fear in my eyes and assume that Harry was holding me here against my will, anyways. The place would be swarming with police in no time—either coming to save me or to arrest me.
"Two pops, please," Harry corrected in a pleasant tone. He went to get our drinks and Harry turned his attention back to me. "How are you feeling?"
I glared at him. "You were going to let him kill me," I said in a hushed voice.
"No, I wasn't." He shook his head. "And I didn't? You're alive, aren't you?"
"It doesn't feel like it." I rubbed my hands against my arms, desperate for some sort of reassurance that I was still solid.
"Well, your heart sure is beating. That's a good sign."
I remembered the man's blood spilling in tune with his heartbeat and restrained myself from gagging.
"Why did you let it go that far?" I demanded.
Harry laid down his menu. "Why are you blaming me? You're the one who planned to go there on your own."
"And you're the one who followed me there to 'protect' me."
"Consider it a test—that you failed, by the way. Miserably."
The waiter returned with our drinks and took out his notepad to take our order. He turned to me first.
"I'll have the cheese ravioli. Alfredo sauce, please." It was simple. Dependable. And didn't contain anything that remotely looked like blood.
He turned to Harry. "And for you?"
"Oh, I'm not hungry. I just ate." He smiled and handed his menu back to him. "Thank you, though."
"You're vile," I said as soon as the waiter walked out of ear shot.
"Why is that?"
I glanced around the sparsely populated room. "You just killed a man and you're acting like nothing happened!"
"Bella! Keep your voice down!" He scolded, but he was laughing. "He was going to kill you. I've already made it abundantly clear that I need you alive."
I knew it was unlikely that he would answer my question from earlier, so I tried a different approach. "Invisibility."
"What?" Harry sounded confused.
"That's your gift, isn't it? Invisibility."
He laughed again. I was getting sick of him constantly laughing at me. "Why do you think that?"
"Well, no one has run screaming from seeing your red eyes. And apparently that man couldn't see you until you wanted him to. That's how you move about in public so easily. You're turning invisible."
He slow clapped into a building applause before cheering loudly. He stood up on his side of the booth seat and yelled across the restaurant. "Bella Swan is a genius, everyone!"
"Hush! Harry! Get down," I pleaded, but he kept shouting.
I looked around the room, terrified to find everyone staring at the scene he was creating. But instead I found that not a single person was looking our way.
"I'm fairly sure that, in the cartoons at least, invisible people can still be heard." Harry sat back down. "And why do you think that you can see me?"
"You want me to see you?" I tried, but was unsure of my answer.
"Quite the opposite. You seeing me when I didn't want you to is exactly what got you into this mess," he clarified.
I thought for a moment on this new information. "And what about the waiter? You're letting him see you, so why isn't he asking questions about your eyes?"
"You're still missing the point, Bella. Think a little harder."
He had no idea just how hard I had thought about absolutely everything involving his existence.
"I don't know. It feels like you think I'm some sort of vampire expert, but I'm really not."
"Oh, I know you're not an expert. I just think you're smart enough to put two and two together," he urged.
"Okay."
I thought back to that first night in the pub, only a week ago but more like a lifetime. It wasn't surprising that no one else had seen him—who else in our group was watching strangers from across the bar. And we were alone in the park. I didn't understand why no one had at least looked at him on the Tube, but they surely would have noticed me talking to myself if he was just invisible.
But each occasion had one thing in common.
"Why are you giving me headaches? I thought you were just annoying, but these are more like migraines and chest pain."
"That's what I want to find out. But I have a theory I've been testing." He smiled. "You're on the right track now."
"You're not just turning invisible. You're doing some sort of... spell?"
"I'm a vampire, not a witch."
"I don't know, okay!" I had the familiar irritability from my blood sugar plummeting after the adrenaline rush, so I reached for my soda and gulped it down. At least I had some gained some useful knowledge from my Edward induced mental breakdown.
"Fine, I'll explain it to you like you're a child." He acted like he was annoyed, but I had the sense that he enjoyed boasting about himself. "It's... compulsion."
Our waiter returned with my ravioli and sat it down in front of me.
"You're joking," I said.
"I'm sorry?" The waiter questioned. "Is everything alright?"
I looked up at his confused face. "Oh, I'm sorry. Everything is perfect. Thank you so much."
"Actually, I think the lady would prefer that you give her all of the cash you've made tonight," Harry interrupted.
The poor man pulled out his book without question and laid a spread of cash across the table.
"No!" I screeched, pushing the money back towards him. "He's lying!"
"She's just humble. Really, make sure that she keeps your money."
The man took the money and started shoving it inside my coat pocket. He wasn't harsh or hurtful, but his movements were assured and he didn't hesitate to do as he was told. When I tried to stop him from putting the money in my coat, he started shoving it into the collar of my shirt.
"Harry! Make him stop!"
"Okay, okay. Fine, I think she gets the point. You can stop now." The man immediately stopped and started putting his cash back into his book. I quickly pulled the remaining bills from my shirt to give back to him. "Now just forget about this—oh! And bring the lady your best dessert."
The waiter walked away as if nothing had happened.
"What the hell was that?" I yelled.
"Compulsion."
"Please, explain."
"This is like... textbook vampire. Haven't you read any of the lore?"
"Yes, I—" I dropped my head into my hands. "That was just a lot, okay? I've never seen anything like that before."
I knew the Cullens had been gifted. I understood that Edward could read minds and Alice could see the future. But none of that equated to witnessing someone act against their own free will at a simple command.
"It's a bit cooler than just invisibility, wouldn't you say?" I glared at him, but he continued. "I mean if I was just invisible, then people wouldn't get to enjoy my charming good looks. Instead, I just compel them not to notice me or to conveniently look the other way."
"Or to think your eyes are brown instead of red?"
He tilted his head slightly. "Do you think I had brown eyes?"
I hadn't thought about it before now, who he was as a human.
Different subject. "What have you compelled me to do?"
"That's just the thing... nothing." He glanced at the rapidly cooling ravioli placed in front of me. "Eat and I'll tell you. I don't have the patience for a lengthy sit down meal like I used to. I want to get out of here as soon as we can, but you deserve to know some of the truth."
I shoveled the pasta into my mouth.
"Last week I'm going about business as usual. I have to meet some scum in a local pub. They feel safer having our meetings in public. Which means that I have to compel an entire pub to look the other way—not that it's difficult. I'm used to it by now, becoming 'invisible'—as you call it—is as easy as breathing. You understand the irony here."
"But you didn't say anything out loud that night in the pub," I interrupted.
"I don't have to. Humans are easy. I can compel them to do anything I want. It's a little bit harder to do on strong vampires, but not impossible." He paused. "So imagine my surprise when I get this feeling like I'm being watched. And I look up to see your reflection just staring at me—I mean really, Bella. It's quite rude to stare."
I blushed, horrified that I had been caught in my admiration so easily.
"At first I thought, maybe she's just looking in my general direction, that she doesn't actually see me. But then we made eye contact, and there was no doubt that you had noticed me—especially after you took off running." He shook his head, causing his brown curls to distract me from the gravity of his words. "Predator-prey response at it's finest. Running was your worst option. I had no choice but to follow you then."
I knew he would, which was what I had wanted. I would always lead him away from my loved ones.
"Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it saved Bella Swan. I had to know why my compulsion didn't work on you. Luckily for you, I had just hunted earlier that night. I doubt I'd have cared much for further questions on an empty stomach."
With that, I pushed my half-eaten plate of ravioli away from me.
"I tried to compel you again in the park, and was surprised to discover that it caused you such pain. I looked into your background—which was easy, thanks to you leaving your unlocked phone on the bench like a gift with a bow on top. And needing to follow you directly to your door step just to make sure you lived through the night."
"I'm not that fragile, you know," I defended myself.
"You were essentially a zombie."
He wasn't wrong, but I got myself back home in one piece. "So why do you care if you can't compel me? Is this some sort of attempt to get inside my head? I can tell you from experience, it won't work. I'm messed up."
Harry sat up straight. "Messed up? What makes you think that?"
I sighed and looked away, too embarrass to look him in the eyes. "I just... my brain just doesn't work right, I guess. I have a hard time socializing... I struggle with anxiety. I've always been this way, but it got worse after..."
He didn't let me finish the thought. "Listen, anxiety is hard. Yeah, I'm not disputing that. But I don't think my inability to compel you or Edwin's inability to read your thoughts is something wrong with you."
"Edward," I corrected.
He rolled his eyes again. "I have the opposite theory. I think this is one of your strengths."
"What's that supposed to mean? What sort of advantage am I supposed to have over a vampire? You could snap my neck without having to compel me."
He leaned across the table, and I instinctively leaned back to distance myself from him. "Maybe while you're a human. But I think..." He paused, carefully judging my reaction before continuing. "I think that if you were transformed into one of us, your natural gift would be a shield." He let the words sink in. "A very powerful shield."
I understood the words he said in their sequential order, but none of them made sense logically. "What's a shield?"
"It's a defensive ability. I've only been able to find information on one other similar vampire, but they were not nearly as powerful as you would be."
I felt the world stop spinning. "As I... would be?"
"Yes. If you were to become a vampire," he stated, like it was obvious.
"That's not an option." His intentions were beginning to make themselves painfully clear to me.
I could see all the gears in his mind crank to a halting stop. "What?"
"I will not become a vampire."
Panic crossed his face as he tried to reformulate how to proceed. "Of course you can. I'll do it myself."
"I don't want to be a vampire—no matter who does it." He sat in stunned silence, so I continued. "And I know that as a newborn, I would be much stronger than you. So don't think you can just go against my wishes because you're stronger than me—for now. You wouldn't want a very powerful newborn holding a grudge against you, would you?"
If Harry's skin could have gotten any paler, it would have by now. "I thought you wanted Edward to change you?"
"I did—when I was young and dumb. I didn't know what I was asking for. But you're dead, Harry. You're always going to be stuck like this; stuck as a monster who gets cheap thrills from overpowering those who are unfortunate enough to be weaker than you. I don't want to be like you—ever. I want to live my life, and if that's cut short then it won't be at my own hands."
Harry was oscillating between shock and anger as he processed this revelation. "Don't think this absolves you from my plan." The plan that I still had zero insight on. "You're still more useful to me —even as a weak human—than you realize. So, instead of having the advantage of immortality on your side, you'll be sent into a real monster's den. All alone. And you'll just have to hope that your shield is as strong as possible while you're limited to being a human."
All of his charm had melted away, accenting his fierce determination to get what he wants—to whatever's end.
"Why are you doing this to me? What are you after that you think you need me for?"
He broke our heated exchange by turning away, and only a sliver of the tension between us relented. "I have to. You're a means to an end."
I knew it all along, but it still hurt to hear him admit it in such plain language. "I don't understand."
"I wish you didn't have to. Look—stop trying to move out. If you help me, I'll leave your roommate in one piece." He stood up, clearly eager to end this conversation. "Can I trust you to make it home safe?"
I glared at him, and he returned a scowl filled with just as much hatred.
"I think I can manage."
He nodded and walked at a normal speed out of the restaurant, although it seemed like he wanted to run as fast as he could.
I sat there alone, feeling cold and empty with his abrupt absence.
The waiter brought out a small bag and cleared my dirty dishes. "Thank you for dining with us."
He didn't seem to remember that he was forced to shove his rent money at me against his will just a few minutes ago. He probably wouldn't have be so kind to me right now if he did. But I glanced in the bag and discovered a single piece of pie. So he was still under Harry's compulsion.
"Thank you," I said, unsure of what else to say to the man.
I got up to leave and noticed a woman seated at a nearby table do a double take in my direction—as if she had only just now noticed that someone had been sitting in this booth and was startled by my sudden presence.