Free The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner by Stephenie Meyer Page A

like we need all the help we can get, and being able to move around in the
     day can’t hurt.”
    “Diego…,” I repeated, not knowing what else to say.
    He looked into my eyes, and I waited for his lips to twitch into that easy smile, for him to make some joke about ninjas or
     BFFs.
    He didn’t. Instead, he leaned in slowly, never moving his eyes from mine, and kissed me. His smooth lips pressed against mine
     for one long second while we stared at each other.
    Then he leaned away and sighed. “Get home, hidebehind Fred, and act clueless. I’ll be right behind you.”
    “Be careful.”
    I grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard, then let go. Riley had spoken of Diego affectionately. I would have to hope that
     affection was real. There wasn’t another choice.
    Diego disappeared into the trees, quiet as a rustling breeze. I didn’t waste time looking after him. I sprinted through the
     branches in a direct line back to the house. I hoped my eyes were still bright enough from last night’s meal to explain my
     absence. Just a quick hunt. Got lucky—found a lone hiker. Nothing out of the ordinary.
    The sound of the thudding music that greeted my approach was accompanied by the unmistakable sweet, smoky scent of a burning
     vampire. My panic went into overdrive. I could just as easily die inside the house as outside. But there was no other way.
     I didn’t slow, just rushed down the stairs straight to the corner where I could barely make out Freaky Fred standing. Looking
     for something to do? Tired of sitting? I had no idea what he was up to, and I didn’t care. I would stick tight to him until
     Riley and Diego got back.
    In the middle of the floor was a smoldering heap that was too big to be just a leg or an arm. So much for Riley’s twenty-two.
    No one seemed terribly concerned about the smoking remains. The sight was too common.
    As I hurried closer to Fred, for once the sense of disgust didn’t get stronger. Instead, it faded. He didn’t seem to notice
     me, just went on reading the book he held. One of those I’d left him a few days ago. I had no problem seeing what he was doing
     now that I was close to where he was leaning against the back of the couch. I hesitated, wondering why that was. Could he
     turn his nausea thing off when he wanted? Did that mean we both were unprotected right now? At least Raoul wasn’t home yet,
     thankfully, though Kevin was.
    For the first time ever, I really saw what Fred looked like. He was tall, maybe six two, with the thick, curly blond hair
     I’d noticed once before. He was broad-shouldered and muscular. He looked older than most of the others—like a college student,
     not a high school kid. And—this was the part that surprised me most for some reason—he was good-looking. As handsome as anyone
     else, maybe even handsomer than most. I didn’t know why that was so trippy for me. I guessed just because I always associated
     him with revulsion.
    I felt weird for staring. I glanced quickly around the room to see if anyone had noticed that Fred was normal—and pretty—for
     the moment. No onewas looking our way. I stole a fast peek at Kevin, ready to shift my focus at once if he noticed, but his eyes were concentrated
     on some point to the left of where we stood. He was frowning slightly. Before I could look away, his gaze skipped right over
     to me and settled on my right side. His frown deepened. Like… he was trying to see me and couldn’t.
    I felt the corners of my mouth twitch into not quite a grin. There was too much to worry about to really enjoy Kevin’s blindness.
     I looked back at Fred, wondering if the gross-out factor would return, only to see that he was smiling with me. Smiling, he
     was really spectacular.
    Then the moment was over, and Fred went back to his book. I didn’t move for a while, waiting for something to happen. For
     Diego to come through the door. Or Riley with Diego. Or Raoul. Or for the nausea to hit again, or for Kevin to