The vampire Edward - 4

Edwards POV:
Vampire.
Her thought of the word echoed through my head. I saw the shock and sudden fear on her face before the fear was gone and she looked... calm. Calm. Very, very calm for someone who just found out they were going on a trip with a vampire.
I frowned and waited for her to answer. When she didn't, I did. “Anastasia? Are you... all right?”
She waited another moment before answering me. “A vampire. I'm... fine. It is just... a little to get used to... so I cannot believe... you're a vampire...” What's his name? I don't know his name... she thought with a frown on her face.
“Edward,” I said, “my name is Edward Cullen.”
Edward Cullen, she sighed in her head. I could hear the adoration in her thoughts as her face brightened before it faded and she asked, “How did you know I wanted to know your name?”
“I can hear your thoughts,” I explained quietly. “All of them.”
She stared at me with wide eyes and she stepped back before I added, “Only if I want to hear them. I don't always want to hear everyone's thoughts.”
“So... what am I thinking now?” Anastasia asked. I frowned.
“Nothing.” I had no clue why I couldn't hear her now. Why her thoughts were suddenly unknown to me. Suddenly no longer there. I stared at her with confusion in my eyes. Why was I having such a difficult time hearing her thoughts? Why couldn't I just listen in on them like I could everyone else's. It was very difficult for me to not sit there, like stone, and just think. Think about why I couldn't hear her all of a sudden. Why I couldn't just answer her thoughts. It was all very confusing.
I hadn't realized I sat down until she was kneeling in front of me and my eyes were at eye level with hers. Golden to hazel. Butterscotch to chocolate. “Edward... what's troubling you?” she asked me and I could hear the acceleration of her heart as she said my name.
“The fact that your thoughts are now, somehow, unknown to me. Like they're shut off and I'm still trying to surf them when I can't and there is no point in trying if I cannot hear them. And how they were known to me moments ago, when you asked for my name. But it's as if when I spoke my own name, your thoughts shut me out and I can't hear them period, like they're a diary no one can break into,” I explained in one breath.
Anastasia stared at me as if I were speaking Latin and she only spoke English. “So... my brain doesn't work right? Perfect.”
“No,” I said, “it's just not letting me listen now. I'm sure I'll get to listen to it soon.” I stood. “Should we leave now? Before dawn so we aren't seen? We need to get to Chicago by then.”
“Chicago?” she repeated. “Wow. I've not been to Chicago. Yes, let's go now.”
I lead the way out of the alley before turning to her. “You have to... climb on my back, I think.” I chewed on the inside of my lip, unnoticed by her, and paused. “Yes, climb on my back.”
I saw her hesitate, like I was asking her to jump off of a cliff. Watched as she moved forward slowly, each step thought of on her face before she took it. Finally, after what seemed like ages, she was near enough to me to wrap her arms around my neck. When I helped her onto it fully, she wrapped her legs around my waist, and I didn't realize all the strength she put forth into them. It seemed to me like she was trying to grip a rock, not a person, not my neck. “All right,” I mumbled almost silently, barely hearing it myself, before I began running. Running around people, around cars, around everything before we hit the country.
I ran openly through the country, the cornfields and barns and trees passing in a blur. With the speed, I thought Anastasia would, perhaps, become sick. I felt her press her face into my shoulder, felt her grip tighten. So, she was afraid. I hoped I wasn't scaring her too much.
After hours of endless running – I never got tired of running – we reached Illinois and I slowed my speed slightly, trying to actually slow down more then I was. As I continued running, the sun was rising and I could see that we would barely get back to Chicago before the sun fully rose. When we finally reached my previous crypt, where I'd first been changed, I sensed the man I was searching for was inside.
Dr. Carlisle Cullen had remained in Chicago, in hopes of my return.