What this chapter should be called: Biggest. Ass-pull. Ever.
“The next was a small olive-toned female vampire with a long braid of black hair bobbing against her back. Her deep burgundy eyes flitted nervously around the confrontation before her. And the last was a young man… not quite as fast nor quite as fluid in his run. His skin was an impossible rich, dark brown. His wary eyes flashed across the gathering, and they were the color of warm teak. His hair was black and braided, too, like the woman’s, though not as long. He was beautiful. As he neared us, a new sound sent shock waves through the watching crowd—the sound of another heartbeat, accelerated with exertion.”
Because Aro can read minds and Alice needed to be secretive, okay, sure. If she had told Edward, “brother dearest, there’s a hybrid that I will find in another country and bring back to Washington,” and then Aro touched Edward (giggle), Aro would know Alice’s secret. But so what? It’s not like this was a surprise party. (+1 Stupidity)
Literally nothing bad would have happened if Aro had known of Alice’s plan. In fact, it might have actually helped. Aro knows Alice is a powerful psychic (cough cough), and he would have wanted to learn more about these hybrids before making a rash decision. Aro is a villain, but he’s smart (kinda), and if another hybrid existed, he would want to study and learn about these creatures instead of murdering an entire coven of good vampires. (+1 Stupidity)
So all the hidden message, trips to the ghetto, and family abandonment issues was worthless. Completely worthless.
I hate Alice.
“I am Huilen,” the woman announced in clear but strangely accented English. As she continued, it was apparent she had prepared herself to tell this story, that she had practiced. It flowed like a well-known nursery rhyme. “A century and a half ago, I lived with my people, the Mapuche. My sister was Pire. Our parents named her after the snow on the mountains because of her fair skin. And she was very beautiful—too beautiful. She came to me one day in secret and told me of the angel that found her in the woods, that visited her by night. I warned her.” Huilen shook her head mournfully. “As if the bruises on her skin were not warning enough. I knew it was the Libishomen of our legends, but she would not listen. She was bewitched.”
“She searched for her demon angel but found nothing. I cared for her, hunted for her when her strength failed. She ate the animals raw, drinking their blood. I needed no more confirmation of what she carried in her womb. I hoped to save her life before I killed the monster. “But she loved the child inside her. She called him Nahuel, after the jungle cat, when he grew strong and broke her bones—and loved him still. “I could not save her. The child ripped his way free of her, and she died quickly, begging all the while that I would care for her Nahuel. Her dying wish—and I agreed.”
The baby killed the mother during the delivery, and then bit the sister, and now the sister is a full-blown vampire but the baby is a nice and kind fully-grown hybrid. This story drags on and on, because exactly what you want at the end of a four-volume book series is to listen to a previously unmentioned character explain things in wordy, convoluted detail while the main characters who you’ve been following for book after book stand around aimlessly. They teach you that in Story Telling 102. (Story Telling 101 involves tips on using psychic characters to move a lazy story forward, and Story Telling 103 deals with shape-shifters and how it’s totally cool to bring this up in the final few pages of a novel.) (+1 Stupidity)
“Aro’s lips were pursed. He stared at the dark-skinned youth. “Nahuel, you are one hundred and fifty years old?” he questioned. “Give or take a decade,” he answered in a clear, beautifully warm voice. His accent was barely noticeable. “We don’t keep track.” “And you reached maturity at what age?” “About seven years after my birth, more or less, I was full grown.” “You have not changed since then?” Nahuel shrugged. “Not that I’ve noticed.” I felt a shudder tremble through Jacob’s body. I didn’t want to think about this yet. I would wait till the danger was past and I could concentrate. “And your diet?” Aro pressed, seeming interested in spite of himself. “Mostly blood, but some human food, too. I can survive on either.” “You were able to create an immortal?” As Aro gestured to Huilen, his voice was abruptly intense. I refocused on my shield; perhaps he was seeking a new excuse. “Yes, but none of the rest can.”
“Aro stared into my eyes for a long, tense moment. I had no idea what he was searching for, or what he found, but after he had measured me for that moment, something in his face changed, a faint shift in the set of his mouth and eyes, and I knew that Aro had made his decision. “Brother,” he said softly to Caius. “There appears to be no danger. This is an unusual development, but I see no threat. These half-vampire children are much like us, it appears.”
You traveled all the way to America’s northwest with your entire goddamned army of vampires, and you decide to go home and play Xbox simply because some sexy stranger hopped out of the woods and said, “hybrids are nice and fun!” (+5 Stupidity)
“We had forever. And Nessie was going to be fine and healthy and strong. Like the half-human Nahuel, in a hundred and fifty years she would still be young. And we would all be together. Happiness expanded like an explosion inside me —so extreme, so violent that I wasn’t sure I’d survive it. “Forever,” Edward echoed in my ear. I couldn’t speak anymore. I lifted my head and kissed him with a passion that might possibly set the forest on fire. I wouldn’t have noticed.”
Cream Count: +1
Red Flag: Jacob: +1
Thesaurus Rape: +45
Cream Count: +19
Eye Rape: +1
Red Flag: Edward: +17 Jacob: +9