Page 58 of Life and Death: Twilight Reimagined (The Twilight Saga)

This time the bat somehow made it around in time to smash into the invisible ball. The crack of impact was shattering, thunderous; it echoed off the mountainside—I immediately understood the need for the storm.

I was barely able to follow the ball, shooting like a meteor above the field, flying deep into the surrounding forest.

“Home run,” I muttered.

“Wait,” Earnest said. He was listening intently, one hand raised. Eleanor was a blur around the bases, Carine shadowing her. I realized Edythe was missing.

“Out!” Earnest cried. I stared in disbelief as Edythe sprang from the fringe of the trees, ball in her upraised hand, her wide grin visible even to me.

“Eleanor hits the hardest,” Earnest explained, “but Edythe runs the fastest.”

It was like watching superheroes play. It was impossible to keep up with the speed at which the ball flew, the rate at which their bodies raced around the field.

I learned the other reason they waited for a thunderstorm to play when Jessamine, trying to avoid Edythe’s infallible fielding, hit a ground ball toward Carine.

Carine ran into the ball, and then raced Jessamine to first base.

When they collided, the sound was like the crash of two massive falling boulders.

I jumped up, afraid someone would be hurt, but they were both totally fine.

“Safe,” Earnest called in a calm voice.

Eleanor’s team was up by one—Royal managed to tear around the bases after tagging up on one of Eleanor’s long flies—when Edythe caught the third out. She sprinted to my side, beaming with excitement.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“One thing’s for sure, I’ll never be able to sit through dull old Major League Baseball again.”

“And it sounds like you did so much of that before,” she laughed.

“I am a little disappointed,” I teased.

“Why?”

“Well, it would be nice if I could find just one thing you didn’t do better than everyone else on the planet.”

She flashed her dimples, leaving me breathless.

“I’m up,” she said, heading for the plate.

She played intelligently, keeping the ball low, out of the reach of Royal’s always-ready hand in the outfield, gaining two bases like lightning before Eleanor could get the ball back in play.

Carine knocked one so far out of the field—with a boom that hurt my ears—that she and Edythe both made it in. Archie slapped them high fives.

The score constantly changed as the game continued, and they razzed each other like street ballplayers as they took turns with the lead. Occasionally Earnest would call them to order. The thunder rumbled on, but we stayed dry, as Archie had predicted.

Carine was up to bat, Edythe catching, when Archie suddenly gasped. My eyes were on Edythe, as usual, and I saw her head snap up to look at him. Their eyes met and something flowed between them in half a second. She was at my side before the others could ask Archie what was wrong.

“Archie?” Earnest asked, tense.

“I didn’t see,” Archie whispered. “I couldn’t tell.”

They were all gathered in now.

Carine was calm, authoritative. “What is it, Archie?”

“They were traveling much quicker than I thought. I can see I had the perspective wrong before,” he murmured.

Jessamine put her arm around him, her posture protective. “What changed?” she asked.

“They heard us playing, and it changed their path,” Archie said, contrite, as if he felt responsible for whatever had happened.

Seven pairs of quick eyes flashed to my face and away.

“How soon?” Carine asked.

A look of intense concentration crossed his face.

“Less than five minutes. They’re running—they want to play.” He scowled.

“Can you make it?” Carine asked Edythe, her eyes flicking toward me again.

“No, not carrying—” She cut short. “Besides, the last thing we need is for them to catch the scent and start hunting.”

“How many?” Eleanor asked Archie.

“Three.”

“Three!” she scoffed. “Let them come.” The long bands of muscle flexed down her arms.

For a split second that seemed much longer than it really was, Carine deliberated. Only Eleanor seemed relaxed; the rest stared at Carine’s face, obviously anxious.

“Let’s just continue the game,” Carine finally decided. Her voice was cool and level. “Archie said they were simply curious.”

The entire conference lasted only a few seconds, but I had listened carefully and thought I’d caught most of it. I couldn’t hear what Earnest asked Edythe now with just an intense look. I only saw the slight shake of her head and the look of relief on his face.

“You catch, Earnest,” she said. “I’ll call it now.”

She stood right next to me as the others returned to the field, all of their eyes sweeping the forest. Archie and Earnest seemed to orient themselves around where I stood.

I stated the obvious. “The others are coming now.”

“Yes, stay very still, keep quiet, and don’t move from my side, please.” I could hear the stress in her voice, though she tried to hide it.

“That won’t help,” Archie murmured. “I could smell him across the field.”

“I know,” Edythe snapped.

Carine stood at the plate, and the others joined the game halfheartedly.

“What did Earnest ask you?” I whispered.

She hesitated a second before she answered. “Whether they were thirsty.”

The seconds dragged by while the game progressed apathetically.

No one dared to hit harder than a bunt, and Eleanor, Royal, and Jessamine hovered in the infield.

Now and again, I was aware of Royal’s eyes on me.

They were expressionless, but something about the way he held his mouth made me sure he was angry.

Edythe paid no attention to the game at all, eyes and mind scanning the forest.

“I’m sorry, Beau,” she muttered fiercely. “It was stupid, irresponsible, to expose you like this. I’m so sorry.”

I heard her breath stop, and her eyes zeroed in on right field. She took a half-step, angling herself between me and what was coming. It made me start to panic, like I had before, imagining her between me and Royal—Edythe in danger. I was pretty sure whatever was coming now was worse than Royal.