He hesitated for a second before he answered. "Whether they were thirsty," he muttered unwillingly.
The seconds ticked by; the game progressed with apathy now. No one dared to hit harder than a bunt, and Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper hovered in the infield. Now and again, despite the fear that numbed my brain, I was aware of Rosalie's eyes on me. They were expressionless, but something about the way she held her mouth made me think she was angry.
Edward paid no attention to the game at all, eyes and mind ranging the forest.
"I'm sorry, Bella," he muttered fiercely. "It was stupid, irresponsible, to expose you like this. I'm so sorry."
I heard his breath stop, and his eyes zeroed in on right field. He took a half step, angling himself between me and what was coming.
Carlisle, Emmett, and the others turned in the same direction, hearing sounds of passage much too faint for my ears.
18. THE HUNT
18. THE HUNT
They emerged one by one from the forest edge, ranging a dozen meters apart. The first male into the clearing fell back immediately, allowing the other male to take the front, orienting himself around the tall, dark-haired man in a manner that clearly displayed who led the pack. The third was a woman; from this distance, all I could see of her was that her hair was a startling shade of red.
They closed ranks before they continued cautiously toward Edward's
family, exhibiting the natural respect of a troop of predators as it encounters a larger, unfamiliar group of its own kind.
As they approached, I could see how different they were from the Cullens. Their walk was catlike, a gait that seemed constantly on the edge of shifting into a crouch. They dressed in the ordinary gear of backpackers: jeans and casual button-down shirts in heavy, weatherproof fabrics. The clothes were frayed, though, with wear, and they were barefoot. Both men had cropped hair, but the woman's brilliant orange hair was filled with leaves and debris from the woods.
Their sharp eyes carefully took in the more polished, urbane stance of Carlisle, who, flanked by Emmett and Jasper, stepped guardedly forward to meet them. Without any seeming communication between them, they each straightened into a more casual, erect bearing.
The man in front was easily the most beautiful, his skin olive-toned beneath the typical pallor, his hair a glossy black. He was of a medium build, hard-muscled, of course, but nothing next to Emmett's brawn. He smiled an easy smile, exposing a flash of gleaming white teeth.
The woman was wilder, her eyes shifting restlessly between the men facing her, and the loose grouping around me, her chaotic hair quivering in the slight breeze. Her posture was distinctly feline. The second male hovered unobtrusively behind them, slighter than the leader, his light brown hair and regular features both nondescript. His eyes, though completely still, somehow seemed the most vigilant.
Their eyes were different, too. Not the gold or black I had come to expect, but a deep burgundy color that was disturbing and sinister.
The dark-haired man, still smiling, stepped toward Carlisle.
"We thought we heard a game," he said in a relaxed voice with the slightest of French accents. "I'm Laurent, these are Victoria and James." He gestured to the vampires beside him.
"I'm Carlisle. This is my family, Emmett and Jasper, Rosalie, Esme and Alice, Edward and Bella." He pointed us out in groups, deliberately not calling attention to individuals. I felt a shock when he said my name.
"Do you have room for a few more players?" Laurent asked sociably.
Carlisle matched Laurent's friendly tone. "Actually, we were just finishing up. But we'd certainly be interested another time. Are you planning to stay in the area for long?"
"We're headed north, in fact, but we were curious to see who was in the neighborhood. We haven't run into any company in a long time."
"No, this region is usually empty except for us and the occasional visitor, like yourselves."
The tense atmosphere had slowly subsided into a casual conversation; I guessed that Jasper was using his peculiar gift to control the situation.
"What's your hunting range?" Laurent casually inquired.
Carlisle ignored the assumption behind the inquiry. "The Olympic Range here, up and down the Coast Ranges on occasion. We keep a permanent residence nearby. There's another permanent settlement like ours up near Denali."
Laurent rocked back on his heels slightly.
"Permanent? How do you manage that?" There was honest curiosity in his voice.
"Why don't you come back to our home with us and we can talk comfortably?" Carlisle invited. "It's a rather long story."
James and Victoria exchanged a surprised look at the mention of the word
"home," but Laurent controlled his expression better.