He can barely smell her - it's almost a heady feeling for a moment, euphoria simply to be free of the burn, until he gets this close and realizes she smells as she always does. The venom scorches through his throat - that burning pain, the need, that is so much worse than the normal thirst. It's close to familiar by now - which is, he acknowledges in the back of his head, pretty sick by itself. If not for the nature of it all, it might be enough to make him laugh. He might anyway. For now, though, he concentrates on not flinching as her scent hits him like a train.

"Bella, Bella it's nothing, shhh." He wishes he could tell her that she was all right now, but it would be a lie.

"I'm sorry," he tells her, voice and eyes soft as down. "I've just been trying to determine where, exactly, I am. But your being here....

"I think you've just invalidated my main theory." What place would this soft, breakable human girl have in Hell?