Breaking Dawn   ::   Meyer Stephenie

Maybe the planet had started turning backward. Maybe that would explain how everything was the opposite of what it had been yesterday—how I could be hoping for what had once seemed like the very worst thing in the world.

“What is that thing doing to her?” I whispered. “She was so much worse last night. I saw… the tubes and all that. Through the window.”

“The fetus isn’t compatible with her body. Too strong, for one thing, but she could probably endure that for a while. The bigger problem is that it won’t allow her to get the sustenance she needs. Her body is rejecting every form of nutrition. I’m trying to feed her intravenously, but she’s just not absorbing it. Everything about her condition is accelerated. I’m watching her—and not just her, but the fetus as well—starve to death by the hour. I can’t stop it and I can’t slow it down. I can’t figure out what it wants .” His weary voice broke at the end.

I felt the same way I had yesterday, when I’d seen the black stains across her stomach—furious, and a little crazy.

I clenched my hands into fists to control the shaking. I hated the thing that was hurting her. It wasn’t enough for the monster to beat her from the inside out. No, it was starving her, too. Probably just looking for something to sink its teeth into—a throat to suck dry. Since it wasn’t big enough to kill anyone else yet, it settled for sucking Bella’s life from her.

I could tell them exactly what it wanted: death and blood, blood and death.

My skin was all hot and prickly. I breathed slowly in and out, focusing on that to calm myself.

“I wish I could get a better idea of what exactly it is,” Carlisle murmured. “The fetus is well protected. I haven’t been able to produce an ultrasonic image. I doubt there is any way to get a needle through the amniotic sac, but Rosalie won’t agree to let me try, in any case.”

“A needle?” I mumbled. “What good would that do?”

“The more I know about the fetus, the better I can estimate what it will be capable of. What I wouldn’t give for even a little amniotic fluid. If I knew even the chromosomal count . . .”

“You’re losing me, Doc. Can you dumb it down?”

He chuckled once—even his laugh sounded exhausted. “Okay. How much biology have you taken? Did you study chromosomal pairs?”

“Think so. We have twenty-three, right?”

“Humans do.”

I blinked. “How many do you have?”

“Twenty-five.”

I frowned at my fists for a second.