按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
and terrible qualities of both。 — Rev。 Montague Summers
If there is in this world a wellattested account； it is that of the
vampires。 Nothing is lacking： official reports； affidavits of wellknown
people； of surgeons； of priests； of magistrates； the judicial proof is
most plete。 And with all that； who is there who believes in vampires？
— Rousseau
The rest of the site was an alphabetized listing of all the different
myths of vampires held throughout the world。 The first I clicked on； the
Danag； was a Filipino vampire supposedly responsible for planting taro on
the islands long ago。 The myth continued that the Danag worked with
humans for many years； but the partnership ended one day when a woman cut
her finger and a Danag sucked her wound； enjoying the taste so much that
it drained her body pletely of blood。
I read carefully through the descriptions； looking for anything that
sounded familiar； let alone plausible。 It seemed that most vampire myths
centered around beautiful women as demons and children as victims； they
also seemed like constructs created to explain away the high mortality
rates for young children； and to give men an excuse for infidelity。 Many
of the stories involved bodiless spirits and warnings against improper
burials。 There wasn't much that sounded like the movies I'd seen； and
only a very few； like the Hebrew Estrie and the Polish Upier； who were
even preoccupied with drinking blood。
Only three entries really caught my attention： the Romanian Varacolaci； a
powerful undead being who could appear as a beautiful； paleskinned
human； the Slovak Nelapsi； a creature so strong and fast it could
massacre an entire village in the single hour after midnight； and one
other； the Stregoni benefici。
About this last there was only one brief sentence。
Stregoni benefici： An Italian vampire； said to be on the side of
goodness； and a mortal enemy of all evil vampires。
It was a relief； that one small entry； the one myth among hundreds that
claimed the existence of good vampires。
Overall； though； there was little that coincided with Jacob's stories or
my own observations。 I'd made a little catalogue in my mind as I'd read
and carefully pared it with each myth。 Speed； strength； beauty； pale
skin； eyes that shift color； and then Jacob's criteria： blood drinkers；
enemies of the werewolf； coldskinned； and immortal。 There were very few
myths that matched even one factor。
And then another problem； one that I'd remembered from the small number
of scary movies that I'd seen and was backed up by today's reading —
vampires couldn't e out in the daytime； the sun would burn them to a
cinder。 They slept in coffins all day and came out only at night。
Aggravated； I snapped off the puter's main power switch； not waiting
to shut things down properly。 Through my irritation； I felt overwhelming
embarrassment。 It was all so stupid。 I was sitting in my room；
researching vampires。 What was wrong with me？ I decided that most of the
blame belonged on the doorstep of the town of Forks — and the entire
sodden Olympic Peninsula； for that matter。
I had to get out of the house； but there was nowhere I wanted to go that
didn't involve a threeday drive。 I pulled on my boots anyway； unclear
where I was headed； and went downstairs。 I shrugged into my raincoat
without checking the weather and stomped out the door。
It was overcast； but not raining yet。 I ignored my truck and started east
on foot； angling across Charlie's yard toward the everencroaching
forest。 It didn't take long till I was deep enough for the house and the
road to be invisible； for the only sound to be the squish of the damp
earth under my feet and the sudden cries of the jays。
There was a thin ribbon of a trail that led through the forest here； or I
wouldn't risk wandering on my own like this。 My sense of direction was
hopeless； I could get lost in much less helpful surroundings。 The trail
wound deeper and deeper into the forest； mostly east as far as I could
tell。 It snaked around the Sitka spruces and the hemlocks； the yews and
the maples。 I only vaguely knew the names of the trees around me； and all
I knew was due to Charlie pointing them out to me from the cruiser window
in earlier days。 There were many I didn't know； and others I couldn't be
sure about because they were so covered in green parasites。
I followed the trail as long as my anger at myself pushed me forward。 As
that started to ebb； I slowed。 A few drops of moisture trickled down from
the canopy above me； but I couldn't be certain if it was beginning to
rain or if it was simply pools left over from yesterday； held high in the
leaves above me； slowly dripping their way back to the earth。 A recently
fallen tree — I knew it was recent because it wasn't entirely carpeted in
moss — rested against the trunk of one of her sisters； creating a
sheltered little bench just a few safe feet off the trail。 I stepped over
the ferns and sat carefully； making sure my jacket was between the damp
seat and my clothes wherever they touched； and leaned my hooded head back
against the living tree。
This was the wrong place to have e。 I should have known； but where
else was there to go？ The forest was deep green and far too much like the
scene in last night's dream to allow for peace of mind。 Now that there
was no longer the sound of my soggy footsteps； the silence was piercing。
The birds were quiet； too； the drops increasing in frequency； so it must
be raining above。 The ferns stood higher than my head； now that I was
seated； and I knew someone could walk by on the path； three feet away；
and not see me。
Here in the trees it was much easier to believe the absurdities that
embarrassed me indoors。 Nothing had changed in this forest for thousands
of years； and all the myths and legends of a hundred different lands
seemed much more likely in this green haze than they had in my clearcut
bedroom。
I forced myself to focus on the two most vital questions I had to answer；
but I did so unwillingly。
First； I had to decide if it was possible that what Jacob had said about
the Cullens could be true。
Immediately my mind responded with a resounding negative。 It was silly
and morbid to entertain such ridiculous notions。 But what； then？ I asked
myself。 There was no rational explanation for how I was alive at this
moment。 I listed again in my head the things I'd observed myself： the
impossible speed and strength； the eye color shifting from black to gold
and back again； the inhuman beauty； the pale； frigid skin。 And more —
small things that registered slowly — how they never seemed to eat； the
disturbing grace with which they moved。 And the way be
sometimes spoke； with unfamiliar cadences and phrases that better fit the
style of a turnofthecentury novel than that of a twentyfirstcentury
classroom。 He had skipped class the day we'd done blood typing。 He hadn't
said no to the beach trip till he heard where we were going。 He seemed to
know what everyone around him was thinking… except me。 He had told me he
was the villain； dangerous…
Could the Cullens be vampires？
Well； they were something。 Something outside the possibility of rational
justification was taking place in front of my incredulous eyes。 Whether
it be Jacob's cold ones or my own superhero theory； Edward Cullen was
not… human。 He was something more。
So then — maybe。 That would have to be my answer for now。
And then the most important question of all。 What was I going to do if it
was true？
If Edward was a vampire — I could hardly make myself think the words —
then what should I do？ Involving someone else was definitely out。 I
couldn't even believe myself； anyone I told would have me mitted。
Only two options seemed practical。 The first was to take his advice： to
be smart； to avoid him as much as possible。 To cancel our plans； to go
back to ignoring him as far as I was able。 To pretend there was an
imperably thick glass wall between us in the one class where we were
forced together。 To tell him to leave me al