Jacob laughed, with a harder edge this time. “I was remembering the way you looked that night Sam found you — I’ve seen it in his head, and it’s like I was there; that memory has always haunted Sam, you know. And then I remembered how you looked the first time you came to my place. I bet you don’t even realize what a mess you were then, Bella. It was weeks before you started to look human again. And I remembered how you always used to have your arms wrapped around yourself, trying to hold yourself together. . . .” Jacob winced, and then shook his head. “It’s hard for me to remember how sad you were, and it wasn’t my fault. So I figured it would be harder for him. And I thought he ought to get a look at what he’d done.” I smacked his shoulder. It hurt my hand. “Jacob Black, don’t you ever do that again! Promise me you won’t.” “No way. I haven’t had that much fun in months.” “So help me, Jake —” “Oh, get a grip, Bella. When am I ever going to see him again? Don’t worry about it.” I got to my feet, and he caught my hand as I started to walk away. I tried to tug free. “I’m leaving, Jacob.” “No, don’t go yet,” he protested, his hand tightening around mine. “I’m sorry. And . . . okay, I won’t do it again. Promise.” I sighed. “Thanks, Jake.” “Come on, we’ll go back to my house,” he said eagerly. “Actually, I think I really do need to go. Angela Weber is expecting me, and I know Alice is worried. I don’t want to upset her too much.”
“But you just got here!” “It feels that way,” I agreed. I glared up at the sun, somehow already directly overhead. How had the time passed so quickly? His eyebrows pulled down over his eyes. “I don’t know when I’ll see you again,” he said in a hurt voice. “I’ll come back the next time he’s away,” I promised impulsively. “Away?” Jacob rolled his eyes. “That’s a nice way to describe what he’s doing. Disgusting parasites.” “If you can’t be nice, I won’t come back at all!” I threatened, trying to pull my hand free. He refused to let go. “Aw, don’t be mad,” he said, grinning. “Knee-jerk reaction.” “If I’m going to try to come back again, you’re going to have to get something straight, okay?” He waited. “See,” I explained. “I don’t care who’s a vampire and who’s a werewolf. That’s irrelevant. You are Jacob, and he is Edward, and I am Bella. And nothing else matters.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “But I am a werewolf,” he said unwillingly. “And he is a vampire,” he added with obvious revulsion. “And I’m a Virgo!” I shouted, exasperated. He raised his eyebrows, measuring my expression with curious eyes. Finally, he shrugged. “If you can really see it that way . . .” “I can. I do.” “Okay. Just Bella and Jacob. None of those freaky Virgos here.” He smiled at me, the warm, familiar smile that I had missed so much. I felt the answering smile spread across my face. “I’ve really missed you, Jake,” I admitted impulsively. “Me, too,” his smile widened. His eyes were happy and clear, free for once of the angry bitterness. “More than you know. Will you come back soon?” “As soon as I can,” I promised.
6. SWITZERLAND AS I DROVE HOME, I WASN’T PAYING MUCH ATTENTION TO the road that shimmered wetly in the sun. I was thinking about the flood of information Jacob had shared with me, trying to sort it out, to force it all to make sense. Despite the overload, I felt lighter. Seeing Jacob smile, having all the secrets thrashed out . . . it didn’t make things perfect, but it made them better. I was right to have gone. Jacob needed me. And obviously, I thought as I squinted into the glare, there was no danger. It came out of nowhere. One minute there was nothing but bright highway in my rearview mirror. The next minute, the sun was glinting off a silver Volvo right on my tail. “Aw, crap,” I whimpered. I considered pulling over. But I was too much of a coward to face him right away. I’d been counting on some prep time . . . and having Charlie nearby as a buffer. At least that would force him to keep his voice down. The Volvo followed inches behind me. I kept my eyes on the road ahead. Chicken through and through, I drove straight to Angela’s without once meeting the gaze I could feel burning a hole in my mirror. He followed me until I pulled to the curb in front of the Webers’ house. He didn’t stop, and I didn’t look up as he passed. I didn’t want to see the expression on his face. I ran up the short concrete walk to Angela’s door as soon as he was out of sight. Ben answered the door before I could finish knocking, like he’d been standing right behind it. “Hey, Bella!” he said, surprised. “Hi, Ben. Er, is Angela here?” I wondered if Angela had forgotten our plans, and cringed at the thought of going home early. “Sure,” Ben said just as Angela called, “Bella!” and appeared at the top of the stairs. Ben peered around me as we both heard the sound of a car on the road; the sound didn’t scare me — this engine stuttered to a stop, followed by the loud pop of a backfire. Nothing like the purr of the Volvo. This must be the visitor Ben had been waiting for. “Austin’s here,” Ben said as Angela reached his side. A horn honked on the street. “I’ll see you later,” Ben promised. “Miss you already.” He threw his arm around Angela’s neck and pulled her face down to his height so that he could kiss her enthusiastically. After a second of this, Austin honked again.
“’Bye, Ang! Love you!” Ben shouted as he dashed past me. Angela swayed, her face slightly pink, then recovered herself and waved until Ben and Austin were out of sight. Then she turned to me and grinned ruefully. “Thank you for doing this, Bella,” she said. “From the bottom of my heart. Not only are you saving my hands from permanent injury, you also just spared me two long hours of a plot-less, badly dubbed martial arts film.” She sighed in relief. “Happy to be of service.” I was feeling a bit less panicked, able to breathe a little more evenly. It felt so ordinary here. Angela’s easy human dramas were oddly reassuring. It was nice to know that life was normal somewhere. I followed Angela up the stairs to her room. She kicked toys out of the way as she went. The house was unusually quiet. “Where’s your family?” “My parents took the twins to a birthday party in Port Angeles. I can’t believe you’re really going to help me with this. Ben’s pretending he has tendonitis.” She made a face. “I don’t mind at all,” I said, and then I walked into Angela’s room and saw the stacks of waiting envelopes. “Oh!” I gasped. Angela turned to look at me, apologies in her eyes. I could see why she’d been putting this off, and why Ben had weaseled out. “I thought you were exaggerating,” I admitted. “I wish. Are you sure you want to do this?” “Put me to work. I’ve got all day.” Angela divided a pile in half and put her mother’s address book between us on her desk. For a while we concentrated, and there was just the sound of our pens scratching quietly across the paper. “What’s Edward doing tonight?” she asked after a few minutes. My pen dug into the envelope I was working on. “Emmet’s home for the weekend. They’re supposed to be hiking.” “You say that like you’re not sure.” I shrugged. “You’re lucky Edward has his brothers for all the hiking and camping. I don’t know what I’d do if Ben didn’t have Austin for the guy stuff.” “Yeah, the outdoors thing is not really for me. And there’s no way I’d ever be able to keep up.”
Angela laughed. “I prefer the indoors myself.” She focused on her pile for a minute. I wrote out four more addresses. There was never any pressure to fill a pause with meaningless chatter around Angela. Like Charlie, she was comfortable with silence. But, like Charlie, she was also too observant sometimes. “Is something wrong?” she asked in a low voice now. “You seem . . . anxious.” I smiled sheepishly. “Is it that obvious?” “Not really.” She was probably lying to make me feel better. “You don’t have to talk about it unless you want to,” she assured me. “I’ll listen if you think it will help.” I was about to say thanks, but no thanks. After all, there were just too many secrets I was bound to keep. I really couldn’t discuss my problems with someone human. That was against the rules. And yet, with a strange, sudden intensity, that’s exactly what I wanted. I wanted to talk to a normal human girlfriend. I wanted to moan a little bit, like any other teenage girl. I wanted my problems to be that simple. It would also be nice to have someone outside the whole vampire-werewolf mess to put things in perspective. Someone unbiased. “I’ll mind my own business,” Angela promised, smiling down at the address she was working on. “No,” I said. “You’re right. I am anxious. It’s . . . it’s Edward.” “What’s wrong?” It was so easy to talk to Angela. When she asked a question like that, I could tell that she wasn’t just morbidly curious or looking for gossip, like Jessica would have been. She cared that I was upset. “Oh, he’s mad at me.” “That’s hard to imagine,” she said. “What’s he mad about?” I sighed. “Do you remember Jacob Black?” “Ah,” she said. “Yeah.” “He’s jealous.” “No, not jealous . . .” I should have kept my mouth shut. There was no way to explain this right. But I wanted to keep talking anyway. I hadn’t realized I was so starved for human conversation. “Edward thinks Jacob is . . . a bad influence, I guess. Sort of . . . dangerous. You know how much trouble I got in a few months back. . . . It’s all ridiculous, though.” I was surprised to see Angela shaking her head. “What?” I asked. “Bella, I’ve seen how Jacob Black looks at you. I’d bet the real problem is jealousy.” “It’s not like that with Jacob.” “For you, maybe. But for Jacob . . .” I frowned. “Jacob knows how I feel. I’ve told him everything.” “Edward’s only human, Bella. He’s going to react like any other boy.” I grimaced. I didn’t have a response to that. She patted my hand. “He’ll get over it.” “I hope so. Jake’s going through kind of a tough time. He needs me.” “You and Jacob are pretty close, aren’t you?”
“Like family,” I agreed. “And Edward doesn’t like him. . . . That must be hard. I wonder how Ben would handle that?” she mused. I half-smiled. “Probably just like any other boy.” She grinned. “Probably.” Then she changed the subject. Angela wasn’t one to pry, and she seemed to sense I wouldn’t — couldn’t — say any more. “I got my dorm assignment yesterday. The farthest building from campus, naturally.” “Does Ben know where he’s staying yet?” “The closest dorm to campus. He’s got all the luck. How about you? Did you decide where you’re going?” I stared down, concentrating on the clumsy scrawl of my handwriting. For a second I was distracted by the thought of Angela and Ben at the University of Washington. They would be off to Seattle in just a few months. Would it be safe then? Would the wild young vampire menace have moved elsewhere? Would there be a new place by then, some other city flinching from horror-movie headlines?
Would those new headlines be my fault? I tried to shake it off and answered her question a beat late. “Alaska, I think. The university there in Juneau.” I could hear the surprise in her voice. “Alaska? Oh. Really? I mean, that’s great. I just figured you’d go somewhere . . . warmer.” I laughed a little, still staring at the envelope. “Yeah. Forks has really changed my perspective on life.” “And Edward?” Though his name set butterflies fluttering in my stomach, I looked up and grinned at her. “Alaska’s not too cold for Edward, either.” She grinned back. “Of course not.” And then she sighed. “It’s so far. You won’t be able to come home very often. I’ll miss you. Will you e-mail me?” A swell of quiet sadness crashed over me; maybe it was a mistake to get closer to Angela now. But wouldn’t it be sadder still to miss out on these last chances? I shook off the unhappy thoughts, so that I could answer her teasingly. “If I can type again after this.” I nodded toward the stack of envelopes I’d done.
We laughed, and it was easy then to chat cheerfully about classes and majors while we finished the rest — all I had to do was not think about it. Anyway, there were more urgent things to worry about today. I helped her put the stamps on, too. I was afraid to leave. “How’s your hand?” she asked. I flexed my fingers. “I think I’ll recover the full use of it . . . someday.” The door banged downstairs, and we both looked up. “Ang?” Ben called. I tried to smile, but my lips trembled. “I guess that’s my cue to leave.” “You don’t have to go. Though he’s probably going to describe the movie for me . . . in detail.” “Charlie will be wondering where I am anyway.” “Thanks for helping me.” “I had a good time, actually. We should do something like this again. It was nice to have some girl time.”
“Definitely.” There was a light knock on the bedroom door. “Come in, Ben,” Angela said. I got up and stretched. “Hey, Bella! You survived,” Ben greeted me quickly before going to take my place by Angela. He eyed our work. “Nice job. Too bad there’s nothing left to do, I would have . . .” He let the thought trail off, and then restarted excitedly. “Ang, I can’t believe you missed this one! It was awesome. There was this final fight sequence — the choreography was unbelievable! This one guy — well, you’re going to have to see it to know what I’m talking about —” Angela rolled her eyes at me. “See you at school,” I said with a nervous laugh. She sighed. “See you.” I was jumpy on the way out to my truck, but the street was empty. I spent the whole drive glancing anxiously in all my mirrors, but there was never any sign of the silver car. His car was not in front of the house, either, though that meant little.
“Bella?” Charlie called when I opened the front door. “Hey, Dad.” I found him in the living room, in front of the TV. “So, how was your day?” “Good,” I said. Might as well tell him everything — he’d hear it from Billy soon enough. Besides, it would make him happy. “They didn’t need me at work, so I went down to La Push.” There wasn’t enough surprise in his face. Billy had already talked to him. “How’s Jacob?” Charlie asked, attempting to sound indifferent. “Good,” I said, just as casual. “You get over to the Webers’?” “Yep. We got all her announcements addressed.” “That’s nice.” Charlie smiled a wide smile. He was strangely focused, considering that there was a game on. “I’m glad you spent some time with your friends today.” “Me, too.”
ambled toward the kitchen, looking for busy work. Unfortunately, Charlie had already cleaned up his lunch. I stood there for a few minutes, staring at the bright patch of light the sun made on the floor. But I knew I couldn’t delay this forever. “I’m going to go study,” I announced glumly as I headed up the stairs. “See you later,” Charlie called after me. If I survive, I thought to myself. I shut my bedroom door carefully before I turned to face my room. Of course he was there. He stood against the wall across from me, in the shadow beside the open window. His face was hard and his posture tense. He glared at me wordlessly. I cringed, waiting for the torrent, but it didn’t come. He just continued to glare, possibly too angry to speak. “Hi,” I finally said. His face could have been carved from stone. I counted to a hundred in my head, but there was no change. “Er . . . so, I’m still alive,” I began.
A growl rumbled low in his chest, but his expression didn’t change. “No harm done,” I insisted with a shrug. He moved. His eyes closed, and he pinched the bridge of his nose between the fingers of his right hand. “Bella,” he whispered. “Do you have any idea how close I came to crossing the line today? To breaking the treaty and coming after you? Do you know what that would have meant?” I gasped and his eyes opened. They were as cold and hard as night. “You can’t!” I said too loudly. I worked to modulate the volume of my voice so Charlie wouldn’t hear, but I wanted to shout the words. “Edward, they’d use any excuse for a fight. They’d love that. You can’t ever break the rules!” “Maybe they aren’t the only ones who would enjoy a fight.” “Don’t you start,” I snapped. “You made the treaty — you stick to it.” “If he’d hurt you —” “Enough!” I cut him off. “There’s nothing to worry about. Jacob isn’t dangerous.” “Bella.” He rolled his eyes. “You aren’t exactly the best judge of what is or isn’t dangerous.” “I know I don’t have to worry about Jake. And neither do you.” He ground his teeth together. His hands were balled up in fists at his sides. He was still standing against the wall, and I hated the space between us. I took a deep breath, and crossed the room. He didn’t move when I wrapped my arms around him. Next to the warmth of the last of the afternoon sun streaming through the window, his skin felt especially icy. He seemed like ice, too, frozen the way he was. “I’m sorry I made you anxious,” I muttered. He sighed, and relaxed a little. His arms wound around my waist. “Anxious is a bit of an understatement,” he murmured. “It was a very long day.” “You weren’t supposed to know about it,” I reminded him. “I thought you’d be hunting longer.” I looked up at his face, at his defensive eyes; I hadn’t noticed in the stress of the moment, but they were too dark. The rings under them were deep purple. I frowned in disapproval. “When Alice saw you disappear, I came back,” he explained. “You shouldn’t have done that. Now you’ll have to go away again.” My frown intensified. “I can wait.” “That’s ridiculous. I mean, I know she couldn’t see me with Jacob, but you should have known —” “But I didn’t,” he broke in. “And you can’t expect me to let you —” “Oh, yes, I can,” I interrupted him. “That’s exactly what I expect —” “This won’t happen again.” “That’s right! Because you’re not going to overreact next time.” “Because there isn’t going to be a next time.” “I understand when you have to leave, even if I don’t like it —” “That’s not the same. I’m not risking my life.” “Neither am I.” “Werewolves constitute a risk.” “I disagree.”
“I’m not negotiating this, Bella.” “Neither am I.” His hands were in fists again. I could feel them against my back. The words popped out thoughtlessly. “Is this really just about my safety?” “What do you mean?” he demanded. “You aren’t . . .” Angela’s theory seemed sillier now than before. It was hard to finish the thought. “I mean, you know better than to be jealous, right?” He raised one eyebrow. “Do I?” “Be serious.” “Easily — there’s nothing remotely humorous about this.” I frowned suspiciously. “Or . . . is this something else altogether? Some vampires-and-werewolves-are-always-enemies nonsense? Is this just a testosterone-fueled —” His eyes blazed. “This is only about you. All I care is that you’re safe.” The black fire in his eyes was impossible to doubt.
“Okay,” I sighed. “I believe that. But I want you to know something — when it comes to all this enemies nonsense, I’m out. I am a neutral country. I am Switzerland. I refuse to be affected by territorial disputes between mythical creatures. Jacob is family. You are . . . well, not exactly the love of my life, because I expect to love you for much longer than that. The love of my existence. I don’t care who’s a werewolf and who’s a vampire. If Angela turns out to be a witch, she can join the party, too.” He stared at me silently through narrowed eyes. “Switzerland,” I repeated again for emphasis. He frowned at me, and then sighed. “Bella . . . ,” he began, but he paused, and his nose wrinkled in disgust. “What now?” “Well . . . don’t be offended, but you smell like a dog,” he told me. And then he smiled crookedly, so I knew the fight was over. For now. Edward had to make up for the missed hunting trip, and so he was leaving Friday night with Jasper, Emmett, and Carlisle to hit some reserve in Northern California with a mountain lion problem. We’d come to no agreement on the werewolf issue, but I didn’t feel guilty calling Jake — during my brief window of opportunity when Edward took the Volvo home before climbing back in through my window — to let him know I’d be coming over on Saturday again. It wasn’t sneaking around. Edward knew how I felt. And if he broke my truck again, then I’d have Jacob pick me up. Forks was neutral, just like Switzerland — just like me. So when I got off work Thursday and it was Alice rather than Edward waiting for me in the Volvo, I was not suspicious at first. The passenger door was open, and music I didn’t recognize was shaking the frame when the bass played. “Hey, Alice,” I shouted over the wailing as I climbed in. “Where’s your brother?” She was singing along to the song, her voice an octave higher than the melody, weaving through it with a complicated harmony. She nodded at me, ignoring my question as she concentrated on the music. I shut my door and put my hands over my ears. She grinned, and turned the volume down until it was just background. Then she hit the locks and the gas in the same second. “What’s going on?” I asked, starting to feel uneasy. “Where is Edward?” She shrugged. “They left early.”
“Oh.” I tried to control the absurd disappointment. If he left early, that meant he’d be back sooner, I reminded myself. “All the boys went, and we’re having a slumber party!” she announced in a trilling, singsong voice. “A slumber party?” I repeated, the suspicion finally settling in. “Aren’t you excited?” she crowed. I met her animated gaze for a long second. “You’re kidnapping me, aren’t you?” She laughed and nodded. “Till Saturday. Esme cleared it with Charlie; you’re staying with me two nights, and I will drive you to and from school tomorrow.” I turned my face to the window, my teeth grinding together. “Sorry,” Alice said, not sounding in the least bit penitent. “He paid me off.” “How?” I hissed through my teeth. “The Porsche. It’s exactly like the one I stole in Italy.” She sighed happily. “I’m not supposed to drive it around Forks, but if you want, we could see how long it takes to get from here to L.A. — I bet I could have you back by midnight.” I took a deep breath. “I think I’ll pass,” I sighed, repressing a shudder. We wound, always too fast, down the long drive. Alice pulled around to the garage, and I quickly looked over the cars. Emmett’s big jeep was there, with a shiny canary yellow Porsche between it and Rosalie’s red convertible. Alice hopped out gracefully and went to stroke her hand along the length of her bribe. “Pretty, isn’t it?” “Pretty over-the-top,” I grumbled, incredulous. “He gave you that just for two days of holding me hostage?” Alice made a face. A second later, comprehension came and I gasped in horror. “It’s for every time he’s gone, isn’t it?” She nodded. I slammed my door and stomped toward the house. She danced along next to me, still unrepentant. “Alice, don’t you think this is just a little bit controlling? Just a tiny bit psychotic, maybe?” “Not really.” She sniffed. “You don’t seem to grasp how dangerous a young werewolf can be. Especially when I can’t see them. Edward has no way to know if you’re safe. You shouldn’t be so reckless.” My voice turned acidic. “Yes, because a vampire slumber party is the pinnacle of safety conscious behavior.” Alice laughed. “I’ll give you a pedicure and everything,” she promised. It wasn’t so bad, except for the fact that I was being held against my will. Esme brought Italian food — the good stuff, all the way from Port Angeles — and Alice was prepared with my favorite movies. Even Rosalie was there, quietly in the background. Alice did insist on the pedicure, and I wondered if she was working from a list — maybe something she’d compiled from watching bad sitcoms. “How late do you want to stay up?” she asked when my toenails were glistening a bloody red. Her enthusiasm remained untouched by my mood. “I don’t want to stay up. We have school in the morning.” She pouted. “Where am I supposed to sleep, anyway?” I measured the couch with my eyes. It was a little short. “Can’t you just keep me under surveillance at my house?” “What kind of a slumber party would that be?” Alice shook her head in exasperation. “You’re sleeping in Edward’s room.” I sighed. His black leather sofa was longer than this one. Actually, the gold carpet in his room was probably thick enough that the floor wouldn’t be half bad either. “Can I go back to my place to get my things, at least?” She grinned. “Already taken care of.” “Am I allowed to use your phone?” “Charlie knows where you are.” “I wasn’t going to call Charlie.” I frowned. “Apparently, I have some plans to cancel.” “Oh.” She deliberated. “I’m not sure about that.” “Alice!” I whined loudly. “C’mon!” “Okay, okay,” she said, flitting from the room. She was back in half a second, cell phone in hand. “He didn’t specifically prohibit this . . . ,” she murmured to herself as she handed it to me.
I dialed Jacob’s number, hoping he wasn’t out running with his friends tonight. Luck was with me — Jacob was the one to answer. “Hello?” “Hey, Jake, it’s me.” Alice watched me with expressionless eyes for a second, before she turned and went to sit between Rosalie and Esme on the sofa. “Hi, Bella,” Jacob said, suddenly cautious. “What’s up?” “Nothing good. I can’t come over Saturday after all.” It was silent for a minute. “Stupid bloodsucker,” he finally muttered. “I thought he was leaving. Can’t you have a life when he’s gone? Or does he lock you in a coffin?” I laughed. “I don’t think that’s funny.” “I’m only laughing because you’re close,” I told him. “But he’s going to be here Saturday, so it doesn’t matter.” “Will he be feeding there in Forks, then?” Jacob asked cuttingly. “No.” I didn’t let myself get irritated with him. I wasn’t that far from being as angry as he was. “He left early.” “Oh. Well, hey, come over now, then,” he said with sudden enthusiasm. “It’s not that late. Or I’ll come up to Charlie’s.” “I wish. I’m not at Charlie’s,” I said sourly. “I’m kind of being held prisoner.” He was silent as that sunk in, and then he growled. “We’ll come and get you,” he promised in a flat voice, slipping automatically into a plural. A chill slid down my spine, but I answered in a light and teasing voice. “Tempting. I have been tortured — Alice painted my toenails.” “I’m serious.” “Don’t be. They’re just trying to keep me safe.” He growled again. “I know it’s silly, but their hearts are in the right place.” “Their hearts!” he scoffed. “Sorry about Saturday,” I apologized. “I’ve got to hit the sack” — the couch, I corrected mentally — “but I’ll call you again soon.”
“Are you sure they’ll let you?” he asked in a scathing tone. “Not completely.” I sighed. “’Night, Jake.” “See you around.” Alice was abruptly at my side, her hand held out for the phone, but I was already dialing. She saw the number. “I don’t think he’ll have his phone on him,” she said. “I’ll leave a message.” The phone rang four times, followed by a beep. There was no greeting. “You are in trouble,” I said slowly, emphasizing each word. “Enormous trouble. Angry grizzly bears are going to look tame next to what is waiting for you at home.” I snapped the phone shut and placed it in her waiting hand. “I’m done.” She grinned. “This hostage stuff is fun.” “I’m going to sleep now,” I announced, heading for the stairs. Alice tagged along. “Alice,” I sighed. “I’m not going to sneak out. You would know if I was planning to, and you’d catch me if I tried.”
“I’m just going to show you where your things are,” she said innocently. Edward’s room was at the farthest end of the third floor hallway, hard to mistake even when the huge house had been less familiar. But when I switched the light on, I paused in confusion. Had I picked the wrong door? Alice giggled. It was the same room, I realized quickly; the furniture had just been rearranged. The couch was pushed to the north wall and the stereo shoved up against the vast shelves of CDs — to make room for the colossal bed that now dominated the central space. The southern wall of glass reflected the scene back like a mirror, making it look twice as bad. It matched. The coverlet was a dull gold, just lighter than the walls; the frame was black, made of intricately patterned wrought iron. Sculpted metal roses wound in vines up the tall posts and formed a bowery lattice overhead. My pajamas were folded neatly on the foot of the bed, my bag of toiletries to one side. “What the hell is all this?” I spluttered. “You didn’t really think he would make you sleep on the couch, did you?” I mumbled unintelligibly as I stalked forward to snatch my things off the bed.
“I’ll give you some privacy,” Alice laughed. “See you in the morning.” After my teeth were brushed and I was dressed, I grabbed a puffy feather pillow off the huge bed and dragged the gold cover to the couch. I knew I was being silly, but I didn’t care. Porsches as bribes and king-sized beds in houses where nobody slept — it was beyond irritating. I flipped off the lights and curled up on the sofa, wondering if I was too annoyed to sleep. In the dark, the glass wall was no longer a black mirror, doubling the room. The light of the moon brightened the clouds outside the window. As my eyes adjusted, I could see the diffused glow highlighting the tops of the trees, and glinting off a small slice of the river. I watched the silver light, waiting for my eyes to get heavy. There was a light knock on the door. “What, Alice?” I hissed. I was on the defensive, imagining her amusement when she saw my makeshift bed. “It’s me,” Rosalie said softly, opening the door enough that I could see the silver glow touch her perfect face. “Can I come in?”
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7. UNHAPPY ENDING ROSALIE HESITATED IN THE DOORWAY, HER BREATHTAKing face unsure. “Of course,” I replied, my voice an octave high with surprise. “Come on in.” I sat up, sliding to the end of the sofa to make room. My stomach twisted nervously as the one Cullen who did not like me moved silently to sit down in the open space. I tried to come up with a reason why she would want to see me, but my mind was a blank on that point. “Do you mind talking to me for a few minutes?” she asked. “I didn’t wake you or anything, did I?” Her eyes shifted to the stripped bed and back to my couch. “No, I was awake. Sure, we can talk.” I wondered if she could hear the alarm in my voice as clearly as I could. She laughed lightly, and it sounded like a chorus of bells. “He so rarely leaves you alone,” she said. “I figured I’d better make the best of this opportunity.” What did she want to say that couldn’t be said in front of Edward? My hands twisted and untwisted around the edge of the comforter. “Please don’t think I’m horribly interfering,” Rosalie said, her voice gentle and almost pleading. She folded her hands in her lap and looked down at them as she spoke. “I’m sure I’ve hurt your feelings enough in the past, and I don’t want to do that again.” “Don’t worry about it, Rosalie. My feelings are great. What is it?” She laughed again, sounding oddly embarrassed. “I’m going to try to tell you why I think you should stay human — why I would stay human if I were you.” “Oh.” She smiled at the shocked tone of my voice, and then she sighed. “Did Edward ever tell you what led to this?” she asked, gesturing to her glorious immortal body. I nodded slowly, suddenly somber. “He said it was close to what happened to me that time in Port Angeles, only no one was there to save you.” I shuddered at the memory. “Is that really all he told you?” she asked. “Yes,” I said, my voice blank with confusion. “Was there more?” She looked up at me and smiled; it was a harsh, bitter — but still stunning — expression. “Yes,” she said. “There was more.” I waited while she stared out the window. She seemed to be trying to calm herself.
“Would you like to hear my story, Bella? It doesn’t have a happy ending — but which of ours does? If we had happy endings, we’d all be under gravestones now.” I nodded, though I was frightened by the edge in her voice. “I lived in a different world than you do, Bella. My human world was a much simpler place. It was nineteen thirty-three. I was eighteen, and I was beautiful. My life was perfect.” She stared out the window at the silver clouds, her expression far away. “My parents were thoroughly middle class. My father had a stable job in a bank, something I realize now that he was smug about — he saw his prosperity as a reward for talent and hard work, rather than acknowledging the luck involved. I took it all for granted then; in my home, it was as if the Great Depression was only a troublesome rumor. Of course I saw the poor people, the ones who weren’t as lucky. My father left me with the impression that they’d brought their troubles on themselves. “It was my mother’s job to keep our house — and myself and my two younger brothers — in spotless order. It was clear that I was both her first priority and her favorite. I didn’t fully understand at the time, but I was always vaguely aware that my parents weren’t satisfied with what they had, even if it was so much more than most. They wanted more. They had social aspirations — social climbers, I suppose you could call them. My beauty was like a gift to them. They saw so much more potential in it than I did. “They weren’t satisfied, but I was. I was thrilled to be me, to be Rosalie Hale. Pleased that men’s eyes watched me everywhere I went, from the year I turned twelve. Delighted that my girlfriends sighed with envy when they touched my hair. Happy that my mother was proud of me and that my father liked to buy me pretty dresses. “I knew what I wanted out of life, and there didn’t seem to be any way that I wouldn’t get exactly what I wanted. I wanted to be loved, to be adored. I wanted to have a huge, flowery wedding, where everyone in town would watch me walk down the aisle on my father’s arm and think I was the most beautiful thing they’d ever seen. Admiration was like air to me, Bella. I was silly and shallow, but I was content.” She smiled, amused at her own evaluation. “My parents’ influence had been such that I also wanted the material things of life. I wanted a big house with elegant furnishings that someone else would clean and a modern kitchen that someone else would cook in. As I said, shallow. Young and very shallow. And I didn’t see any reason why I wouldn’t get these things. “There were a few things I wanted that were more meaningful. One thing in particular. My very closest friend was a girl named Vera. She married young, just seventeen. She married a man my parents would never have considered for me — a carpenter. A year later she had a son, a beautiful little boy with dimples and curly black hair. It was the first time I’d ever felt truly jealous of anyone else in my entire life.” She looked at me with unfathomable eyes. “It was a different time. I was the same age as you, but I was ready for it all. I yearned for my own little baby. I wanted my own house and a husband who would kiss me when he got home from work — just like Vera. Only I had a very different kind of house in mind. . . .” It was hard for me to imagine the world that Rosalie had known. Her story sounded more like a fairy tale than history to me. With a slight shock, I realized that this was very close to the world that Edward would have experienced when he was human, the world he had grown up in. I wondered — while Rosalie sat silent for a moment — if my world seemed as baffling to him as Rosalie’s did to me? Rosalie sighed, and when she spoke again her voice was different, the wistfulness gone. “In Rochester, there was one royal family — the Kings, ironically enough. Royce King owned the bank my father worked at, and nearly every other really profitable business in town. That’s how his son, Royce King the Second” — her mouth twisted around the name, it came out through her teeth — “saw me the first time. He was going to take over at the bank, and so he began overseeing the different positions. Two days later, my mother conveniently forgot to send my father’s lunch to work with him. I remember being confused when she insisted that I wear my white organza and roll my hair up just to run over to the bank.” Rosalie laughed without humor.
“I didn’t notice Royce watching me particularly. Everyone watched me. But that night the first of the roses came. Every night of our courtship, he sent a bouquet of roses to me. My room was always overflowing with them. It got to the point that I would smell like roses when I left the house. “Royce was handsome, too. He had lighter hair than I did, and pale blue eyes. He said my eyes were like violets, and then those started showing up alongside the roses. “My parents approved — that’s putting it mildly. This was everything they’d dreamed of. And Royce seemed to be everything I’d dreamed of. The fairy tale prince, come to make me a princess. Everything I wanted, yet it was still no more than I expected. We were engaged before I’d known him for two months. “We didn’t spend a great deal of time alone with each other. Royce told me he had many responsibilities at work, and, when we were together, he liked people to look at us, to see me on his arm. I liked that, too. There were lots of parties, dancing, and pretty dresses. When you were a King, every door was open for you, every red carpet rolled out to greet you. “It wasn’t a long engagement. Plans went ahead for the most lavish wedding. It was going to be everything I’d ever wanted. I was completely happy. When I called at Vera’s, I no longer felt jealous. I pictured my fair-haired children playing on the huge lawns of the Kings’ estate, and I pitied her.”
Rosalie broke off suddenly, clenching her teeth together. It pulled me out of her story, and I realized that the horror was not far off. There would be no happy ending, as she’d promised. I wondered if this was why she had so much more bitterness in her than the rest of them — because she’d been within reach of everything she’d wanted when her human life was cut short. “I was at Vera’s that night,” Rosalie whispered. Her face was smooth as marble, and as hard. “Her little Henry really was adorable, all smiles and dimples — he was just sitting up on his own. Vera walked me to the door as I was leaving, her baby in her arms and her husband at her side, his arm around her waist. He kissed her on the cheek when he thought I wasn’t looking. That bothered me. When Royce kissed me, it wasn’t quite the same — not so sweet somehow. . . . I shoved that thought aside. Royce was my prince. Someday, I would be queen.” It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but it looked like her bone white face got paler. “It was dark in the streets, the lamps already on. I hadn’t realized how late it was.” She continued to whisper almost inaudibly. “It was cold, too. Very cold for late April. The wedding was only a week away, and I was worrying about the weather as I hurried home — I can remember that clearly. I remember every detail about that night. I clung to it so hard . . . in the beginning. I thought of nothing else. And so I remember this, when so many pleasant memories have faded away completely. . . .”
She sighed, and began whispering again. “Yes, I was worrying about the weather. . . . I didn’t want to have to move the wedding indoors. . . . “I was a few streets from my house when I heard them. A cluster of men under a broken streetlamp, laughing too loud. Drunk. I wished I’d called my father to escort me home, but the way was so short, it seemed silly. And then he called my name. “‘Rose!’ he yelled, and the others laughed stupidly. “I hadn’t realized the drunks were so well dressed. It was Royce and some of his friends, sons of other rich men. “‘Here’s my Rose!’ Royce shouted, laughing with them, sounding just as stupid. ‘You’re late. We’re cold, you’ve kept us waiting so long.’” “I’d never seen him drink before. A toast, now and then, at a party. He’d told me he didn’t like champagne. I hadn’t realized that he preferred something much stronger. “He had a new friend — the friend of a friend, come up from Atlanta. “‘What did I tell you, John,’ Royce crowed, grabbing my arm and pulling me closer. ‘Isn’t she lovelier than all your Georgia peaches?’ “The man named John was dark-haired and suntanned. He looked me over like I was a horse he was buying. “‘It’s hard to tell,’ he drawled slowly. ‘She’s all covered up.’ “They laughed, Royce like the rest. “Suddenly, Royce ripped my jacket from my shoulders — it was a gift from him — popping the brass buttons off. They scattered all over the street. “‘Show him what you look like, Rose!’ He laughed again and then he tore my hat out of my hair. The pins wrenched my hair from the roots, and I cried out in pain. They seemed to enjoy that — the sound of my pain. . . .” Rosalie looked at me suddenly, as if she’d forgotten I was there. I was sure my face was as white as hers. Unless it was green. “I won’t make you listen to the rest,” she said quietly. “They left me in the street, still laughing as they stumbled away. They thought I was dead. They were teasing Royce that he would have to find a new bride. He laughed and said he’d have to learn some patience first. “I waited in the road to die. It was cold, though there was so much pain that I was surprised it bothered me. It started to snow, and I wondered why I wasn’t dying. I was impatient for death to come, to end the pain. It was taking so long. . . .
“Carlisle found me then. He’d smelled the blood, and come to investigate. I remember being vaguely irritated as he worked over me, trying to save my life. I’d never liked Dr. Cullen or his wife and her brother — as Edward pretended to be then. It had upset me that they were all more beautiful than I was, especially that the men were. But they didn’t mingle in society, so I’d only seen them once or twice. “I thought I’d died when he pulled me from the ground and ran with me — because of the speed — it felt like I was flying. I remembered being horrified that the pain didn’t stop. . . . “Then I was in a bright room, and it was warm. I was slipping away, and I was grateful as the pain began to dull. But suddenly something sharp was cutting me, my throat, my wrists, my ankles. I screamed in shock, thinking he’d brought me there to hurt me more. Then fire started burning through me, and I didn’t care about anything else. I begged him to kill me. When Esme and Edward returned home, I begged them to kill me, too. Carlisle sat with me. He held my hand and said that he was so sorry, promising that it would end. He told me everything, and sometimes I listened. He told me what he was, what I was becoming. I didn’t believe him. He apologized each time I screamed. “Edward wasn’t happy. I remember hearing them discuss me. I stopped screaming sometimes. It did no good to scream. “‘What were you thinking, Carlisle?’ Edward said. ‘Rosalie Hale?’” Rosalie imitated Edward’s irritated tone to perfection. “I didn’t like the way he said my name, like there was something wrong with me. “‘I couldn’t just let her die,’ Carlisle said quietly. ‘It was too much — too horrible, too much waste.’ “‘I know,’ Edward said, and I thought he sounded dismissive. It angered me. I didn’t know then that he really could see exactly what Carlisle had seen. “‘It was too much waste. I couldn’t leave her,’ Carlisle repeated in a whisper. “‘Of course you couldn’t,’ Esme agreed. “‘People die all the time,’ Edward reminded him in a hard voice. ‘Don’t you think she’s just a little recognizable, though? The Kings will have to put up a huge search — not that anyone suspects the fiend,’ he growled. “It pleased me that they seemed to know that Royce was guilty. “I didn’t realize that it was almost over — that I was getting stronger and that was why I was able to concentrate on what they were saying. The pain was beginning to fade from my fingertips. “‘What are we going to do with her?’ Edward said disgustedly — or that’s how it sounded to me, at least. “Carlisle sighed. ‘That’s up to her, of course. She may want to go her own way.’
“I’d believed enough of what he’d told me that his words terrified me. I knew that my life was ended, and there was no going back for me. I couldn’t stand the thought of being alone. . . . “The pain finally ended and they explained to me again what I was. This time I believed. I felt the thirst, my hard skin; I saw my brilliant red eyes. “Shallow as I was, I felt better when I saw my reflection in the mirror the first time. Despite the eyes, I was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.” She laughed at herself for a moment. “It took some time before I began to blame the beauty for what had happened to me — for me to see the curse of it. To wish that I had been . . . well, not ugly, but normal. Like Vera. So I could have been allowed to marry someone who loved me, and have pretty babies. That’s what I’d really wanted, all along. It still doesn’t seem like too much to have asked for.” She was thoughtful for a moment, and I wondered if she’d forgotten my presence again. But then she smiled at me, her expression suddenly triumphant. “You know, my record is almost as clean as Carlisle’s,” she told me. “Better than Esme. A thousand times better than Edward. I’ve never tasted human blood,” she announced proudly. She understood my puzzled expression as I wondered why her record was only almost as clean. “I did murder five humans,” she told me in a complacent tone. “If you can really call them human. But I was very careful not to spill their blood — I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist that, and I didn’t want any part of them in me, you see. “I saved Royce for last. I hoped that he would hear of his friends’ deaths and understand, know what was coming for him. I hoped the fear would make the end worse for him. I think it worked. He was hiding inside a windowless room behind a door as thick as a bank vault’s, guarded outside by armed men, when I caught up with him. Oops — seven murders,” she corrected herself. “I forgot about his guards. They only took a second.” “I was overly theatrical. It was kind of childish, really. I wore a wedding dress I’d stolen for the occasion. He screamed when he saw me. He screamed a lot that night. Saving him for last was a good idea — it made it easier for me to control myself, to make it slower —” She broke off suddenly, and she glanced down at me. “I’m sorry,” she said in a chagrined voice. “I’m frightening you, aren’t I?” “I’m fine,” I lied. “I got carried away.” “Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m surprised Edward didn’t tell you more about it.” “He doesn’t like to tell other people’s stories — he feels like he’s betraying confidences, because he hears so much more than just the parts they mean for him to hear.” She smiled and shook her head. “I probably ought to give him more credit. He’s really quite decent, isn’t he?” “I think so.” “I can tell.” Then she sighed. “I haven’t been fair to you, either, Bella. Did he tell you why? Or was that too confidential?” “He said it was because I was human. He said it was harder for you to have someone on the outside who knew.” Rosalie’s musical laughter interrupted me. “Now I really feel guilty. He’s been much, much kinder to me than I deserve.” She seemed warmer as she laughed, like she’d let down some guard that had never been absent in my presence before. “What a liar that boy is.” She laughed again. “He was lying?” I asked, suddenly wary. “Well, that’s probably putting it too strongly. He just didn’t tell you the whole story. What he told you was true, even truer now than it was before. However, at the time . . .”
She broke off, chuckling nervously. “It’s embarrassing. You see, at first, I was mostly jealous because he wanted you and not me.” Her words sent a thrill of fear through me. Sitting there in the silver light, she was more beautiful than anything else I could imagine. I could not compete with Rosalie. “But you love Emmett . . . ,” I mumbled. She shook her head back and forth, amused. “I don’t want Edward that way, Bella. I never did — I love him as a brother, but he’s irritated me from the first moment I heard him speak. You have to understand, though . . . I was so used to people wanting me. And Edward wasn’t the least bit interested. It frustrated me, even offended me in the beginning. But he never wanted anyone, so it didn’t bother me long. Even when we first met Tanya’s clan in Denali — all those females! — Edward never showed the slightest preference. And then he met you.” She looked at me with confused eyes. I was only half paying attention. I was thinking about Edward and Tanya and all those females, and my lips pressed together in a hard line. “Not that you aren’t pretty, Bella,” she said, misreading my expression. “But it just meant that he found you more attractive than me. I’m vain enough that I minded.” “But you said ‘at first.’ That doesn’t still . . . bother you, does it? I mean, we both know you’re the most beautiful person on the planet.”
I laughed at having to say the words — it was so obvious. How odd that Rosalie should need such reassurances. Rosalie laughed, too. “Thanks, Bella. And no, it doesn’t really bother me anymore. Edward has always been a little strange.” She laughed again. “But you still don’t like me,” I whispered. Her smile faded. “I’m sorry about that.” We sat in silence for a moment, and she didn’t seem inclined to go on. “Would you tell me why? Did I do something . . . ?” Was she angry that I’d put her family — her Emmett — in danger? Time and time again. James, and now Victoria . . . “No, you haven’t done anything,” she murmured. “Not yet.” I stared at her, perplexed. “Don’t you see, Bella?” Her voice was suddenly more passionate than before, even while she’d told her unhappy story. “You already have everything. You have a whole life ahead of you — everything I want. And you’re going to just throw it away. Can’t you see that I’d trade everything I have to be you? You have the choice that I didn’t have, and you’re choosing wrong!”
I flinched back from her fierce expression. I realized my mouth had fallen open and I snapped it shut. She stared at me for a long moment and, slowly, the fervor in her eyes dimmed. Abruptly, she was abashed. “And I was so sure that I could do this calmly.” She shook her head, seeming a little dazed by the flood of emotion. “It’s just that it’s harder now than it was then, when it was no more than vanity.” She stared at the moon in silence. It was a few moments before I was brave enough to break into her reverie. “Would you like me better if I chose to stay human?” She turned back to me, her lips twitching into a hint of a smile. “Maybe.” “You did get some of your happy ending, though,” I reminded her. “You got Emmett.” “I got half.” She grinned. “You know that I saved Emmett from a bear that was mauling him, and carried him home to Carlisle. But can you guess why I stopped the bear from eating him?” I shook my head.
“With the dark curls . . . the dimples that showed even while he was grimacing in pain . . . the strange innocence that seemed so out of place on a grown man’s face . . . he reminded me of Vera’s little Henry. I didn’t want him to die — so much that, even though I hated this life, I was selfish enough to ask Carlisle to change him for me. “I got luckier than I deserved. Emmett is everything I would have asked for if I’d known myself well enough to know what to ask for. He’s exactly the kind of person someone like me needs. And, oddly enough, he needs me, too. That part worked out better than I could have hoped. But there will never be more than the two of us. And I’ll never sit on a porch somewhere, with him gray-haired by my side, surrounded by our grandchildren.” Her smile was kind now. “That sounds quite bizarre to you, doesn’t it? In some ways, you are much more mature than I was at eighteen. But in other ways . . . there are many things you’ve probably never thought about seriously. You’re too young to know what you’ll want in ten years, fifteen years — and too young to give it all up without thinking it through. You don’t want to be rash about permanent things, Bella.” She patted my head, but the gesture didn’t feel condescending. I sighed. “Just think about it a little. Once it’s done, it can’t be undone. Esme’s made do with us as substitutes . . . and Alice doesn’t remember anything human so she can’t miss it. . . . You will remember, though. It’s a lot to give up.”
But more to get in return, I didn’t say aloud. “Thanks, Rosalie. It’s nice to understand . . . to know you better.” “I apologize for being such a monster.” She grinned. “I’ll try to behave myself from now on.” I grinned back at her. We weren’t friends yet, but I was pretty sure she wouldn’t always hate me so much. “I’ll let you sleep now.” Rosalie’s eyes flickered to the bed, and her lips twitched. “I know you’re frustrated that he’s keeping you locked up like this, but don’t give him too bad a time when he gets back. He loves you more than you know. It terrifies him to be away from you.” She got up silently and ghosted to the door. “Goodnight, Bella,” she whispered as she shut it behind herself. “Goodnight, Rosalie,” I murmured a second too late. It took me a long time to fall asleep after that. When I did sleep, I had a nightmare. I was crawling across the dark, cold stones of an unfamiliar street, under lightly falling snow, leaving a trail of blood smeared behind me. A shadowy angel in a long white dress watched my progress with resentful eyes. The next morning, Alice drove me to school while I stared grumpily out the windshield. I was feeling sleep-deprived, and it made the irritation of my imprisonment that much stronger. “Tonight we’ll go out to Olympia or something,” she promised. “That would be fun, right?” “Why don’t you just lock me in the basement,” I suggested, “and forget the sugar coating?” Alice frowned. “He’s going to take the Porsche back. I’m not doing a very good job. You’re supposed to be having fun.” “It’s not your fault,” I muttered. I couldn’t believe I actually felt guilty. “I’ll see you at lunch.” I trudged off to English. Without Edward, the day was guaranteed to be unbearable. I sulked through my first class, well aware that my attitude wasn’t helping anything. When the bell rang, I got up without much enthusiasm. Mike was there at the door, holding it open for me. “Edward hiking this weekend?” he asked sociably as we walked out into the light rain. “Yeah.”
“You want to do something tonight?” How could he still sound hopeful? “Can’t. I’ve got a slumber party,” I grumbled. He gave me a strange look as he processed my mood. “Who are you —” Mike’s question was cut short as a loud, growling roar erupted from behind us in the parking lot. Everyone on the sidewalk turned to look, staring in disbelief as the noisy black motorcycle screeched to a stop on the edge of the concrete, the engine still snarling. Jacob waved to me urgently. “Run, Bella!” he yelled over the engine’s roar. I was frozen for a second before I understood. I looked at Mike quickly. I knew I only had seconds. How far would Alice go to restrain me in public? “I got really sick and went home, okay?” I said to Mike, my voice filled with sudden excitement.
“Fine,” he muttered. I pecked Mike swiftly on the cheek. “Thanks, Mike. I owe you one!” I called as I sprinted away. Jacob revved his engine, grinning. I jumped on the back of his seat, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist. I caught sight of Alice, frozen at the edge of the cafeteria, her eyes sparking with fury, her lip curled back over her teeth. I shot her one pleading glance. Then we were racing across the blacktop so fast that my stomach got lost somewhere behind me. “Hold on,” Jacob shouted. I hid my face in his back as he sped down the highway. I knew he would slow down when we hit the Quileute border. I just had to hold on till then. I prayed silently and fervently that Alice wouldn’t follow, and that Charlie wouldn’t happen to see me. . . . It was obvious when we had reached the safe zone. The bike slowed, and Jacob straightened up and howled with laughter. I opened my eyes.
“We made it,” he shouted. “Not bad for a prison break, eh?” “Good thinking, Jake.” “I remembered what you said about the psychic leech not being about to predict what I’m going to do. I’m glad you didn’t think of this — she wouldn’t have let you go to school.” “That’s why I didn’t consider it.” He laughed triumphantly. “What do you want to do today?” “Anything!” I laughed back. It felt great to be free. =========================================================================== 8. TEMPER WE ENDED UP ON THE BEACH AGAIN, WANDERING AIMlessly. Jacob was still full of himself for engineering my escape. “Do you think they’ll come looking for you?” he asked, sounding hopeful. “No.” I was certain about that. “They’re going to be furious with me tonight, though.” He picked up a rock and chucked it into the waves. “Don’t go back, then,” he suggested
again. “Charlie would love that,” I said sarcastically. “I bet he wouldn’t mind.” I didn’t answer. Jacob was probably right, and that made me grind my teeth together. Charlie’s blatant preference for my Quileute friends was so unfair. I wondered if he would feel the same if he knew the choice was really between vampires and werewolves. “So what’s the latest pack scandal?” I asked lightly. Jacob skidded to a halt, and he stared down at me with shocked eyes. “What? That was a joke.” “Oh.” He looked away. I waited for him to start walking again, but he seemed lost in thought. “Is there a scandal?” I wondered. Jacob chuckled once. “I forget what it’s like, not having everyone know everything all the time. Having a quiet, private place inside my head.” We walked along the stony beach quietly for a few minutes.
“So what is it?” I finally asked. “That everyone in your head already knows?” He hesitated for a moment, as if he weren’t sure how much he was going to tell me. Then he sighed and said, “Quil imprinted. That’s three now. The rest of us are starting to get worried. Maybe it’s more common than the stories say. . . .” He frowned, and then turned to stare at me. He gazed into my eyes without speaking, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “What are you staring at?” I asked, feeling self-conscious. He sighed. “Nothing.” Jacob started walking again. Without seeming to think about it, he reached out and took my hand. We paced silently across the rocks. I thought of how we must look walking hand and hand down the beach — like a couple, certainly — and wondered if I should object. But this was the way it had always been with Jacob. . . . No reason to get worked up about it now. “Why is Quil’s imprinting such a scandal?” I asked when it didn’t look like he was going to go on. “Is it because he’s the newest one?” “That doesn’t have anything to do with it.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“It’s another one of those legend things. I wonder when we’re going to stop being surprised that they’re all true?” he muttered to himself. “Are you going to tell me? Or do I have to guess?” “You’d never get it right. See, Quil hasn’t been hanging out with us, you know, until just recently. So he hadn’t been around Emily’s place much.” “Quil imprinted on Emily, too?” I gasped. “No! I told you not to guess. Emily had her two nieces down for a visit . . . and Quil met Claire.” He didn’t continue. I thought about that for a moment. “Emily doesn’t want her niece with a werewolf? That’s a little hypocritical,” I said. But I could understand why she of all people might feel that way. I thought again of the long scars that marred her face and extended all the way down her right arm. Sam had lost control just once when he was standing too close to her. Once was all it took. . . . I’d seen the pain in Sam’s eyes when he looked at what he’d done to Emily. I could understand why Emily might want to protect her niece from that. “Would you please stop guessing? You’re way off. Emily doesn’t mind that part, it’s just, well, a little early.”
“What do you mean early?” Jacob appraised me with narrowed eyes. “Try not to be judgmental, okay?” I nodded cautiously. “Claire is two,” Jacob told me. Rain started to fall. I blinked furiously as the drops pelted my face. Jacob waited in silence. He wore no jacket, as usual; the rain left a spatter of dark spots on his black T-shirt, and dripped through his shaggy hair. His face was expressionless as he watched mine. “Quil . . . imprinted . . . with a two-year-old?” I was finally able to ask. “It happens.” Jacob shrugged. He bent to grab another rock and sent it flying out into the bay. “Or so the stories say.” “But she’s a baby,” I protested. He looked at me with dark amusement. “Quil’s not getting any older,” he reminded me, a bit of acid in his tone. “He’ll just have to be patient for a few decades.” “I . . . don’t know what to say.”
was trying my hardest not to be critical, but, in truth, I was horrified. Until now, nothing about the werewolves had bothered me since the day I’d found out they weren’t committing the murders I’d suspected them of. “You’re making judgments,” he accused. “I can see it on your face.” “Sorry,” I muttered. “But it sounds really creepy.” “It’s not like that; you’ve got it all wrong,” Jacob defended his friend, suddenly vehement. “I’ve seen what it’s like, through his eyes. There’s nothing romantic about it at all, not for Quil, not now.” He took a deep breath, frustrated. “It’s so hard to describe. It’s not like love at first sight, really. It’s more like . . . gravity moves. When you see her, suddenly it’s not the earth holding you here anymore. She does. And nothing matters more than her. And you would do anything for her, be anything for her. . . . You become whatever she needs you to be, whether that’s a protector, or a lover, or a friend, or a brother. “Quil will be the best, kindest big brother any kid ever had. There isn’t a toddler on the planet that will be more carefully looked after than that little girl will be. And then, when she’s older and needs a friend, he’ll be more understanding, trustworthy, and reliable than anyone else she knows. And then, when she’s grown up, they’ll be as happy as Emily and Sam.” A strange, bitter edge sharpened his tone at the very end, when he spoke of Sam.
“Doesn’t Claire get a choice here?” “Of course. But why wouldn’t she choose him, in the end? He’ll be her perfect match. Like he was designed for her alone.” We walked in silence for a moment, till I paused to toss a rock toward the ocean. It fell to the beach several meters short. Jacob laughed at me. “We can’t all be freakishly strong,” I muttered. He sighed. “When do you think it will happen for you?” I asked quietly. His answer was flat and immediate. “Never.” “It’s not something you can control, is it?” He was silent for a few minutes. Unconsciously, we both walked slower, barely moving at all. “It’s not supposed to be,” he admitted. “But you have to see her — the one that’s supposedly meant for you.” “And you think that if you haven’t seen her yet, then she’s not out there?” I asked skeptically. “Jacob, you haven’t really seen much of the world — less than me, even.” “No, I haven’t,” he said in a low voice. He looked at my face with suddenly piercing eyes. “But I’ll never see anyone else, Bella. I only see you. Even when I close my eyes and try to see something else. Ask Quil or Embry. It drives them all crazy.” I dropped my eyes to the rocks. We weren’t walking anymore. The only sound was of the waves beating against the shore. I couldn’t hear the rain over their roar. “Maybe I’d better go home,” I whispered. “No!” he protested, surprised by this conclusion. I looked up at him again, and his eyes were anxious now. “You have the whole day off, right? The bloodsucker won’t be home yet.” I glared at him. “No offense intended,” he said quickly. “Yes, I have the whole day. But, Jake . . .” He held up his hands. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I won’t be like that anymore. I’ll just be Jacob.” I sighed. “But if that’s what you’re thinking . . .” “Don’t worry about me,” he insisted, smiling with deliberate cheer, too brightly. “I know what I’m doing. Just tell me if I’m upsetting you.” “I don’t know. . . .” “C’mon, Bella. Let’s go back to the house and get our bikes. You’ve got to ride a motorcycle regularly to keep it in tune.” “I really don’t think I’m allowed.” “By who? Charlie or the blood — or him?” “Both.” Jacob grinned my grin, and he was suddenly the Jacob I missed the most, sunny and warm. I couldn’t help grinning back. The rain softened, turned to mist. “I won’t tell anyone,” he promised.
“Except every one of your friends.” He shook his head soberly and raised his right hand. “I promise not to think about it.” I laughed. “If I get hurt, it was because I tripped.” “Whatever you say.” We rode our motorcycles on the back roads around La Push until the rain made them too muddy and Jacob insisted that he was going to pass out if he didn’t eat soon. Billy greeted me easily when we got to the house, as if my sudden reappearance meant nothing more complicated than that I’d wanted to spend the day with my friend. After we ate the sandwiches Jacob made, we went out to the garage and I helped him clean up the bikes. I hadn’t been here in months — since Edward had returned — but there was no sense of import to it. It was just another afternoon in the garage. “This is nice,” I commented when he pulled the warm sodas from the grocery bag. “I’ve missed this place.” He smiled, looking around at the plastic sheds bolted together over our heads. “Yeah, I can understand that. All the splendor of the Taj Mahal, without the inconvenience and expense of traveling to India.” “To Washington’s little Taj Mahal,” I toasted, holding up my can.
He touched his can to mine. “Do you remember last Valentine’s Day? I think that was the last time you were here — the last time when things were still . . . normal, I mean.” I laughed. “Of course I remember. I traded a lifetime of servitude for a box of conversation hearts. That’s not something I’m likely to forget.” He laughed with me. “That’s right. Hmm, servitude. I’ll have to think of something good.” Then he sighed. “It feels like it was years ago. Another era. A happier one.” I couldn’t agree with him. This was my happy era now. But I was surprised to realize how many things I missed from my own personal dark ages. I stared through the opening at the murky forest. The rain had picked up again, but it was warm in the little garage, sitting next to Jacob. He was as good as a furnace. His fingers brushed my hand. “Things have really changed.” “Yeah,” I said, and then I reached out and patted the back tire of my bike. “Charlie used to like me. I hope Billy doesn’t say anything about today. . . .” I bit my lip. “He won’t. He doesn’t get worked up about things the way Charlie does. Hey, I never did apologize officially for that stupid move with the bike. I’m real sorry about ratting you out to Charlie. I wish I hadn’t.”
I rolled my eyes. “Me, too.” “I’m really, really sorry.” He looked at me hopefully, his wet, tangled black hair sticking up in every direction around his pleading face. “Oh, fine! You’re forgiven.” “Thanks, Bells!” We grinned at each other for a second, and then his face clouded over. “You know that day, when I brought the bike over . . . I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” he said slowly. “But also . . . not wanting to.” I held very still — a reaction to stress. It was a habit I’d picked up from Edward. “Were you just being stubborn because you were mad at me, or were you really serious?” he whispered. “About what?” I whispered back, though I was sure I knew what he meant. He glared at me. “You know. When you said it was none of my business . . . if — if he bit you.” He cringed visibly at the end.
“Jake . . .” My throat felt swollen. I couldn’t finish. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Were you serious?” He was trembling just slightly. His eyes stayed closed. “Yes,” I whispered. Jacob inhaled, slow and deep. “I guess I knew that.” I stared at his face, waiting for his eyes to open. “You know what this will mean?” He demanded suddenly. “You do understand that, don’t you? What will happen if they break the treaty?” “We’ll leave first,” I said in a small voice. His eyes flashed open, their black depths full of anger and pain. “There wasn’t a geographic limit to the treaty, Bella. Our great-grandfathers only agreed to keep the peace because the Cullens swore that they were different, that humans weren’t in danger from them. They promised they would never kill or change anyone ever again. If they go back on their word, the treaty is meaningless, and they are no different than any other vampires. Once that’s established, when we find them again —” “But, Jake, didn’t you break the treaty already?” I asked, grasping at straws. “Wasn’t part of it that you not tell people about the vampires? And you told me. So isn’t the treaty sort of moot, anyhow?” Jacob didn’t like the reminder; the pain in his eyes hardened into animosity. “Yeah, I broke the treaty — back before I believed any of it. And I’m sure they were informed of that.” He glared sourly at my forehead, not meeting my shamed gaze. “But it’s not like that gives them a freebie or anything. There’s no fault for a fault. They have only one option if they object to what I did. The same option we’ll have when they break the treaty: to attack. To start the war.” He made it sound so inevitable. I shuddered. “Jake, it doesn’t have to be that way.” His teeth ground together. “It is that way.” The silence after his declaration felt very loud. “Will you never forgive me, Jacob?” I whispered. As soon as I said the words, I wished I hadn’t. I didn’t want to hear his answer. “You won’t be Bella anymore,” he told me. “My friend won’t exist. There’ll be no one to forgive.” “That sounds like a no,” I whispered.
We faced each other for an endless moment. “Is this goodbye then, Jake?” He blinked rapidly, his fierce expression melting in surprise. “Why? We still have a few years. Can’t we be friends until we’re out of time?” “Years? No, Jake, not years.” I shook my head, and laughed once without humor. “Weeks is more accurate.” I was not expecting his reaction. He was suddenly on his feet, and there was a loud pop as the soda can exploded in his hand. Soda flew everywhere, soaking me, like it was spraying from a hose. “Jake!” I started to complain, but I fell silent when I realized that his whole body was quivering with anger. He glared at me wildly, a growling sound building in his chest. I froze in place, too shocked to remember how to move. The shaking rolled through him, getting faster, until it looked like he was vibrating. His shape blurred. . . . And then Jacob gritted his teeth together, and the growling stopped. He squeezed his eyes tight in concentration; the quivering slowed until only his hands were shaking.
“Weeks,” Jacob said in a flat monotone. I couldn’t respond; I was still frozen. He opened his eyes. They were beyond fury now. “He’s going to change you into a filthy bloodsucker in just a few weeks!” Jacob hissed through his teeth. Too stunned to take offense at his words, I just nodded mutely. His face turned green under the russet skin. “Of course, Jake,” I whispered after a long minute of silence. “He’s seventeen, Jacob. And I get closer to nineteen every day. Besides, what’s the point in waiting? He’s all I want. What else can I do?” I’d meant that as a rhetorical question. His words cracked like snaps of a whip. “Anything. Anything else. You’d be better off dead. I’d rather you were.” I recoiled like he’d slapped me. It hurt worse than if he had. And then, as the pain shot through me, my own temper burst into flame.
“Maybe you’ll get lucky,” I said bleakly, lurching to my feet. “Maybe I’ll get hit by a truck on my way back.” I grabbed my motorcycle and pushed it out into the rain. He didn’t move as I passed him. As soon as I was on the small, muddy path, I climbed on and kicked the bike to life. The rear tire spit a fountain of mud toward the garage, and I hoped that it hit him. I got absolutely soaked as I sped across the slick highway toward the Cullens’ house. The wind felt like it was freezing the rain against my skin, and my teeth were chattering before I was halfway there. Motorcycles were too impractical for Washington. I would sell the stupid thing first chance I got. I walked the bike into the Cullens’ cavernous garage and was unsurprised to find Alice waiting for me, perched lightly on the hood of her Porsche. Alice stroked the glossy yellow paint. “I haven’t even had a chance to drive it.” She sighed. “Sorry,” I spit through my rattling teeth. “You look like you could use a hot shower,” she said, offhand, as she sprang lightly to her feet.
“Yep.” She pursed her lips, taking in my expression carefully. “Do you want to talk about it?” “Nope.” She nodded in assent, but her eyes were raging with curiosity. “Do you want to go to Olympia tonight?” “Not really. Can’t I go home?” She grimaced. “Never mind, Alice,” I said. “I’ll stay if it makes things easier for you.” “Thanks,” she sighed in relief. I went to bed early that night, curling up on his sofa again. It was still dark when I woke. I was groggy, but I knew it wasn’t near morning yet. My eyes closed, and I stretched, rolling over. It took me a second before I realized that the movement should have dumped me onto the floor. And that I was much too comfortable. I rolled back over, trying to see. It was darker than last night — the clouds were too thick for the moon to shine through.
“Sorry,” he murmured so softly that his voice was part of the darkness. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” I tensed, waiting for the fury — both his and mine — but it was only quiet and calm in the darkness of his room. I could almost taste the sweetness of reunion in the air, a separate fragrance from the perfume of his breath; the emptiness when we were apart left its own bitter aftertaste, something I didn’t consciously notice until it was removed. There was no friction in the space between us. The stillness was peaceful — not like the calm before the tempest, but like a clear night untouched by even the dream of a storm. And I didn’t care that I was supposed to be angry with him. I didn’t care that I was supposed to be angry with everyone. I reached out for him, found his hands in the darkness, and pulled myself closer to him. His arms encircled me, cradling me to his chest. My lips searched, hunting along his throat, to his chin, till I finally found his lips. Edward kissed me softly for a moment, and then he chuckled. “I was all braced for the wrath that was going to put grizzlies to shame, and this is what I get? I should infuriate you more often.” “Give me a minute to work up to it,” I teased, kissing him again. “I’ll wait as long as you want,” he whispered against my lips. His fingers knotted in my hair. My breath was becoming uneven. “Maybe in the morning.” “Whatever you prefer.” “Welcome home,” I said while his cold lips pressed under my jaw. “I’m glad you came back.” “That’s a very good thing.” “Mmm,” I agreed, tightening my arms around his neck. His hand curved around my elbow, moving slowly down my arm, across my ribs and over my waist, tracing along my hip and down my leg, around my knee. He paused there, his hand curling around my calf. He pulled my leg up suddenly, hitching it around his hip. I stopped breathing. This wasn’t the kind of thing he usually allowed. Despite his cold hands, I felt suddenly warm. His lips moved in the hollow at the base of my throat. “Not to bring on the ire prematurely,” he whispered, “but do you mind telling me what it is about this bed that you object to?” Before I could answer, before I could even concentrate enough to make sense of his words, he rolled to the side, pulling me on top of him. He held my face in his hands, angling it up so that his mouth could reach my throat. My breathing was too loud — it was almost embarrassing, but I couldn’t care quite enough to be ashamed. “The bed?” he asked again. “I think it’s nice.” “It’s unnecessary,” I managed to gasp. He pulled my face back to his, and my lips shaped themselves around his. Slowly this time, he rolled till he hovered over me. He held himself carefully so that I felt none of his weight, but I could feel the cool marble of his body press against mine. My heart was hammering so loudly that it was hard to hear his quiet laughter. “That’s debatable,” he disagreed. “This would be difficult on a couch.” Cold as ice, his tongue lightly traced the shape of my lips. My head was spinning — the air was coming too fast and shallow. “Did you change your mind?” I asked breathlessly. Maybe he’d rethought all his careful rules. Maybe there was more significance to this bed than I’d originally guessed. My heart pounded almost painfully as I waited for his answer. Edward sighed, rolling back so that we were on our sides again. “Don’t be ridiculous, Bella,” he said, disapproval strong in his voice — clearly, he understood what I meant. “I was just trying to illustrate the benefits of the bed you don’t seem to like. Don’t get carried away.” “Too late,” I muttered. “And I like the bed,” I added. “Good.” I could hear the smile in his voice as he kissed my forehead. “I do, too.” “But I still think it’s unnecessary,” I continued. “If we’re not going to get carried away, what’s the point?” He sighed again. “For the hundredth time, Bella — it’s too dangerous.” “I like danger,” I insisted. “I know.” There was a sour edge to his voice, and I realized that he would have seen the motorcycle in the garage. “I’ll tell you what’s dangerous,” I said quickly, before he could move to a new topic of discussion. “I’m going to spontaneously combust one of these days — and you’ll have no one but yourself to blame.” He started to push me away. “What are you doing?” I objected, clinging to him. “Protecting you from combustion. If this too much for you. . . .”
“I can handle it,” I insisted. He let me worm myself back into the circle of his arms. “I’m sorry I gave you the wrong impression,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you unhappy. That wasn’t nice.” “Actually, it was very, very nice.” He took a deep breath. “Aren’t you tired? I should let you sleep.” “No, I’m not. I don’t mind if you want to give me the wrong impression again.” “That’s probably a bad idea. You’re not the only one who gets carried away.” “Yes, I am,” I grumbled. He chuckled. “You have no idea, Bella. It doesn’t help that you are so eager to undermine my self-control, either.” “I’m not going to apologize for that.” “Can I apologize?” “For what?”
“You were angry with me, remember?” “Oh, that.” “I’m sorry. I was wrong. It’s much easier to have the proper perspective when I have you safely here.” His arms tightened around me. “I go a little berserk when I try to leave you. I don’t think I’ll go so far again. It’s not worth it.” I smiled. “Didn’t you find any mountain lions?” “Yes, I did, actually. Still not worth the anxiety. I’m sorry I had Alice hold you hostage, though. That was a bad idea.” “Yes,” I agreed. “I won’t do it again.” “Okay,” I said easily. He was already forgiven. “But slumber parties do have their advantages. . . .” I curled myself closer to him, pressing my lips into the indentation over his collarbone. “You can hold me hostage any time you want.”
“Mmm,” he sighed. “I may take you up on that.”
“So is it my turn now?”
“Your turn?” his voice was confused.
“To apologize.” “What do you have to apologize for?” “Aren’t you mad at me?” I asked blankly. “No.” It sounded like he really meant it. I felt my eyebrows pull together. “Didn’t you see Alice when you got home?” “Yes — why?” “Are you going to take her Porsche back?” “Of course not. It was a gift.” I wished I could see his expression. His voice sounded as if I’d insulted him. “Don’t you want to know what I did?” I asked, starting to be puzzled by his apparent lack of concern. I felt him shrug. “I’m always interested in everything you do — but you don’t have to tell me unless you want to.”
“But I went to La Push.” “I know.” “And I ditched school.” “So did I.” I stared toward the sound of his voice, tracing his features with my fingers, trying to understand his mood. “Where did all this tolerance come from?” I demanded. He sighed. “I decided that you were right. My problem before was more about my . . . prejudice against werewolves than anything else. I’m going to try to be more reasonable and trust your judgment. If you say it’s safe, then I’ll believe you.” “Wow.” “And . . . most importantly . . . I’m not willing to let this drive a wedge between us.” I rested my head against his chest and closed my eyes, totally content. “So,” he murmured in a casual tone. “Did you make plans to go back to La Push again soon?”
didn’t answer. His question brought back the memory of Jacob’s words, and my throat was suddenly tight. He misread my silence and the tension in my body. “Just so that I can make my own plans,” he explained quickly. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to hurry back because I’m sitting around waiting for you.” “No,” I said in a voice that sounded strange to me. “I don’t have plans go back.” “Oh. You don’t have to do that for me.” “I don’t think I’m welcome anymore,” I whispered. “Did you run over someone’s cat?” he asked lightly. I knew he didn’t want to force the story out of me, but I could hear the curiosity burning behind his words. “No.” I took a deep breath, and then mumbled quickly through the explanation. “I thought Jacob would have realized . . . I didn’t think it would surprise him.” Edward waited while I hesitated. “He wasn’t expecting . . . that it was so soon.” “Ah,” Edward said quietly.
“He said he’d rather see me dead.” My voice broke on the last word. Edward was too still for a moment, controlling whatever reaction he didn’t want me to see. Then he crushed me gently to his chest. “I’m so sorry.” “I thought you’d be glad,” I whispered. “Glad over something that’s hurt you?” he murmured into my hair. “I don’t think so, Bella.” I sighed and relaxed, fitting myself to the stone shape of him. But he was motionless again, tense. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “It’s nothing.” “You can tell me.” He paused for a minute. “It might make you angry.” “I still want to know.” He sighed. “I could quite literally kill him for saying that to you. I want to.”
I laughed halfheartedly. “I guess it’s a good thing you’ve got so much self-control.” “I could slip.” His tone was thoughtful. “If you’re going to have a lapse in control, I can think of a better place for it.” I reached for his face, trying to pull myself up to kiss him. His arms held me tighter, restraining. He sighed. “Must I always be the responsible one?” I grinned in the darkness. “No. Let me be in charge of responsibility for a few minutes . . . or hours.” “Goodnight, Bella.” “Wait — there was something else I wanted to ask you about.” “What’s that?” “I was talking to Rosalie last night. . . .” His body tensed again. “Yes. She was thinking about that when I got in. She gave you quite a lot to consider, didn’t she?” His voice was anxious, and I realized that he thought I wanted to talk about the reasons Rosalie’d given me for staying human. But I was interested in something much more pressing. “She told me a little bit . . . about the time your family lived in Denali.” There was a short pause; this beginning took him by surprise. “Yes?” “She mentioned something about a bunch of female vampires . . . and you.” He didn’t answer, though I waited for a long moment. “Don’t worry,” I said, after the silence had grown uncomfortable. “She told me you didn’t . . . show any preference. But I was just wondering, you know, if any of them had. Shown a preference for you, I mean.” Again he said nothing. “Which one?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual, and not quite managing. “Or was there more than one?” No answer. I wished I could see his face, so I could try to guess what this silence meant. “Alice will tell me,” I said. “I’ll go ask her right now.” His arms tightened; I was unable to squirm even an inch away. “It’s late,” he said. His voice had a little edge to it that was something new. Sort of “It’s bad,” I guessed. “It’s really bad, isn’t it?” I started to panic, my heart accelerating as I imagined the gorgeous immortal rival I’d never realized I had. “Calm down, Bella,” he said, kissing the tip of my nose. “You’re being absurd.” “Am I? Then why won’t you tell me?” “Because there’s nothing to tell. You’re blowing this wildly out of proportion.” “Which one?” I insisted. He sighed. “Tanya expressed a little interest. I let her know, in a very courteous, gentlemanly fashion, that I did not return that interest. End of story.” I kept my voice as even as possible. “Tell me something — what does Tanya look like?” “Just like the rest of us — white skin, gold eyes,” he answered too quickly. “And, of course, extraordinarily beautiful.” I felt him shrug. “I suppose, to human eyes,” he said, indifferent. “You know what, though?” “What?” My voice was petulant.
He put his lips right to my ear; his cold breath tickled. “I prefer brunettes.” “She’s a blonde. That figures.” “Strawberry blonde — not at all my type.” I thought about that for a while, trying to concentrate as his lips moved slowly along my cheek, down my throat, and back up again. He made the circuit three times before I spoke. “I guess that’s okay, then,” I decided. “Hmm,” he whispered against my skin. “You’re quite adorable when you’re jealous. It’s surprisingly enjoyable.” I scowled into the darkness. “It’s late,” he said again, murmuring, almost crooning now, his voice smoother than silk. “Sleep, my Bella. Dream happy dreams. You are the only one who has ever touched my heart. It will always be yours. Sleep, my only love.” He started to hum my lullaby, and I knew it was only a matter of time till I succumbed, so I closed my eyes and snuggled closer into his chest. ===========================================================================
“To apologize.” “What do you have to apologize for?” “Aren’t you mad at me?” I asked blankly. “No.” It sounded like he really meant it. I felt my eyebrows pull together. “Didn’t you see Alice when you got home?” “Yes — why?” “Are you going to take her Porsche back?” “Of course not. It was a gift.” I wished I could see his expression. His voice sounded as if I’d insulted him. “Don’t you want to know what I did?” I asked, starting to be puzzled by his apparent lack of concern. I felt him shrug. “I’m always interested in everything you do — but you don’t have to tell me unless you want to.”
“But I went to La Push.” “I know.” “And I ditched school.” “So did I.” I stared toward the sound of his voice, tracing his features with my fingers, trying to understand his mood. “Where did all this tolerance come from?” I demanded. He sighed. “I decided that you were right. My problem before was more about my . . . prejudice against werewolves than anything else. I’m going to try to be more reasonable and trust your judgment. If you say it’s safe, then I’ll believe you.” “Wow.” “And . . . most importantly . . . I’m not willing to let this drive a wedge between us.” I rested my head against his chest and closed my eyes, totally content. “So,” he murmured in a casual tone. “Did you make plans to go back to La Push again soon?”
I didn’t answer. His question brought back the memory of Jacob’s words, and my throat was suddenly tight. He misread my silence and the tension in my body. “Just so that I can make my own plans,” he explained quickly. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to hurry back because I’m sitting around waiting for you.” “No,” I said in a voice that sounded strange to me. “I don’t have plans go back.” “Oh. You don’t have to do that for me.” “I don’t think I’m welcome anymore,” I whispered. “Did you run over someone’s cat?” he asked lightly. I knew he didn’t want to force the story out of me, but I could hear the curiosity burning behind his words. “No.” I took a deep breath, and then mumbled quickly through the explanation. “I thought Jacob would have realized . . . I didn’t think it would surprise him.” Edward waited while I hesitated. “He wasn’t expecting . . . that it was so soon.” “Ah,” Edward said quietly.
“He said he’d rather see me dead.” My voice broke on the last word. Edward was too still for a moment, controlling whatever reaction he didn’t want me to see. Then he crushed me gently to his chest. “I’m so sorry.” “I thought you’d be glad,” I whispered. “Glad over something that’s hurt you?” he murmured into my hair. “I don’t think so, Bella.” I sighed and relaxed, fitting myself to the stone shape of him. But he was motionless again, tense. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “It’s nothing.” “You can tell me.” He paused for a minute. “It might make you angry.” “I still want to know.” He sighed. “I could quite literally kill him for saying that to you. I want to.”
laughed halfheartedly. “I guess it’s a good thing you’ve got so much self-control.” “I could slip.” His tone was thoughtful. “If you’re going to have a lapse in control, I can think of a better place for it.” I reached for his face, trying to pull myself up to kiss him. His arms held me tighter, restraining. He sighed. “Must I always be the responsible one?” I grinned in the darkness. “No. Let me be in charge of responsibility for a few minutes . . . or hours.” “Goodnight, Bella.” “Wait — there was something else I wanted to ask you about.” “What’s that?” “I was talking to Rosalie last night. . . .” His body tensed again. “Yes. She was thinking about that when I got in. She gave you quite a lot to consider, didn’t she?” His voice was anxious, and I realized that he thought I wanted to talk about the reasons Rosalie’d given me for staying human. But I was interested in something much more pressing. “She told me a little bit . . . about the time your family lived in Denali.” There was a short pause; this beginning took him by surprise. “Yes?” “She mentioned something about a bunch of female vampires . . . and you.” He didn’t answer, though I waited for a long moment. “Don’t worry,” I said, after the silence had grown uncomfortable. “She told me you didn’t . . . show any preference. But I was just wondering, you know, if any of them had. Shown a preference for you, I mean.” Again he said nothing. “Which one?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual, and not quite managing. “Or was there more than one?” No answer. I wished I could see his face, so I could try to guess what this silence meant. “Alice will tell me,” I said. “I’ll go ask her right now.” His arms tightened; I was unable to squirm even an inch away. “It’s late,” he said. His voice had a little edge to it that was something new. Sort of nervous, maybe a little embarrassed. “Besides, I think Alice stepped out. . . .” “It’s bad,” I guessed. “It’s really bad, isn’t it?” I started to panic, my heart accelerating as I imagined the gorgeous immortal rival I’d never realized I had. “Calm down, Bella,” he said, kissing the tip of my nose. “You’re being absurd.” “Am I? Then why won’t you tell me?” “Because there’s nothing to tell. You’re blowing this wildly out of proportion.” “Which one?” I insisted. He sighed. “Tanya expressed a little interest. I let her know, in a very courteous, gentlemanly fashion, that I did not return that interest. End of story.” I kept my voice as even as possible. “Tell me something — what does Tanya look like?” “Just like the rest of us — white skin, gold eyes,” he answered too quickly. “And, of course, extraordinarily beautiful.” I felt him shrug. “I suppose, to human eyes,” he said, indifferent. “You know what, though?” “What?” My voice was petulant.
Jacob called, Charlie had written. He said he didn’t mean it, and that he’s sorry. He wants you to call him. Be nice and give him a break. He sounded upset. I grimaced. Charlie didn’t usually editorialize on my messages. Jacob could just go ahead and be upset. I didn’t want to talk to him. Last I’d heard, they weren’t big on allowing phone calls from the other side. If Jacob preferred me dead, then maybe he should get used to the silence. My appetite evaporated. I turned an about face and went to put my things away. “Aren’t you going to call Jacob?” Charlie asked. He was leaning around the living room wall, watching me pick up. “No.” I started up the stairs. “That’s not very attractive behavior, Bella,” he said. “Forgiveness is divine.” “Mind your own business,” I muttered under my breath, much too low for him to hear. I knew the laundry was building up, so after I put my toothpaste away and threw my dirty clothes in the hamper, I went to strip Charlie’s bed. I left his sheets in a pile at the top of the stairs and went to get mine. I paused beside the bed, cocking my head to the side. Where was my pillow? I turned in a circle, scanning the room. No pillow. I noticed that my room looked oddly tidy. Hadn’t my gray sweatshirt been draped over the low bedpost on the footboard? And I would swear there had been a pair of dirty socks behind the rocking chair, along with the red blouse I’d tried on two mornings ago, but decided was too dressy for school, hanging over the arm. . . . I spun around again. My hamper wasn’t empty, but it wasn’t overflowing, the way I thought it had been. Was Charlie doing laundry? That was out of character. “Dad, did you start the wash?” I shouted out my door. “Um, no,” he shouted back, sounding guilty. “Did you want me to?” “No, I got it. Were you looking for something in my room?” “No. Why?” “I can’t find . . . a shirt. . . .” “I haven’t been in there.” And then I remembered that Alice had been here to get my pajamas. I hadn’t noticed that she’d borrowed my pillow, too — probably since I’d avoided the bed. It looked like she had cleaned while she was passing through. I blushed for my slovenly ways. But that red shirt really wasn’t dirty, so I went to save it from the hamper. I expected to find it near the top, but it wasn’t there. I dug through the whole pile and still couldn’t find it. I knew I was probably getting paranoid, but it seemed like something else was missing, or maybe more than one something. I didn’t even have half a load here. I ripped my sheets off and headed for the laundry closet, grabbing Charlie’s on the way. The washing machine was empty. I checked the dryer, too, half-expecting to find a washed load waiting for me, courtesy of Alice. Nothing. I frowned, mystified. “Did you find what you were looking for?” Charlie yelled. “Not yet.” I went back upstairs to search under my bed. Nothing but dust bunnies. I started to dig through my dresser. Maybe I’d put the red shirt away and forgotten. I gave up when the doorbell rang. That would be Edward. “Door,” Charlie informed me from the couch as I skipped past him. “Don’t strain yourself, Dad.”
pulled the door open with a big smile on my face. Edward’s golden eyes were wide, his nostrils flared, his lips pulled back over his teeth. “Edward?” My voice was sharp with shock as I read his expression. “What —?” He put his finger to my lips. “Give me two seconds,” he whispered. “Don’t move.” I stood frozen on the doorstep and he . . . disappeared. He moved so quickly that Charlie wouldn’t even have seen him pass. Before I could compose myself enough to count to two, he was back. He put his arm around my waist and pulled me swiftly toward the kitchen. His eyes darted around the room, and he held me against his body as if he were shielding me from something. I threw a glance toward Charlie on the couch, but he was studiously ignoring us. “Someone’s been here,” he murmured in my ear after he pulled me to the back of the kitchen. His voice was strained; it was difficult to hear him over the thumping of the washing machine. “I swear that no werewolves —” I started to say. “Not one of them,” he interrupted me quickly, shaking his head. “One of us.” His tone made it clear that he didn’t mean a member of his family.
felt the blood empty from my face. “Victoria?” I choked. “It’s not a scent I recognize.” “One of the Volturi,” I guessed. “Probably.” “When?” “That’s why I think it must have been them — it wasn’t long ago, early this morning while Charlie was sleeping. And whoever it was didn’t touch him, so there must have been another purpose.” “Looking for me.” He didn’t answer. His body was frozen, a statue. “What are you two hissing about in here?” Charlie asked suspiciously, rounding the corner with an empty popcorn bowl in his hands. I felt green. A vampire had been in the house looking for me while Charlie slept. Panic overwhelmed me, closed my throat. I couldn’t answer, I just stared at him in horror.
Charlie’s expression changed. Abruptly, he was grinning. “If you two are having a fight . . . well, don’t let me interrupt.” Still grinning, he put his bowl in the sink and sauntered out of the room. “Let’s go,” Edward said in a low hard voice. “But Charlie!” The fear was squeezing my chest, making it hard to breathe. He deliberated for a short second, and then his phone was in his hand. “Emmett,” he muttered into the receiver. He began talking so fast that I couldn’t understand the words. It was over in half a minute. He started pulling me toward the door. “Emmett and Jasper are on their way,” he whispered when he felt my resistance. “They’ll sweep the woods. Charlie is fine.” I let him drag me along then, too panicked to think clearly. Charlie met my frightened eyes with a smug grin, which suddenly turned to confusion. Edward had me out the door before Charlie could say anything. “Where are we going?” I couldn’t stop whispering, even after we were in the car. “We’re going to talk to Alice,” he told me, his volume normal but his voice bleak.
“You think maybe she saw something?” He stared at the road through narrowed eyes. “Maybe.” They were waiting for us, on alert after Edward’s call. It was like walking into a museum, everyone still as statues in various poses of stress. “What happened?” Edward demanded as soon as we were through the door. I was shocked to see that he was glowering at Alice, his hands fisted in anger. Alice stood with her arms folded tight across her chest. Only her lips moved. “I have no idea. I didn’t see anything.” “How is that possible?” he hissed. “Edward,” I said, a quiet reproof. I didn’t like him talking to Alice this way. Carlisle interrupted in a calming voice. “It’s not an exact science, Edward.” “He was in her room, Alice. He could have still been there — waiting for her.” “I would have seen that.” Edward threw his hands up in exasperation. “Really? You’re sure?” Alice’s voice was cold when she answered. “You’ve already got me watching the “You think maybe she saw something?” He stared at the road through narrowed eyes. “Maybe.” They were waiting for us, on alert after Edward’s call. It was like walking into a museum, everyone still as statues in various poses of stress. “What happened?” Edward demanded as soon as we were through the door. I was shocked to see that he was glowering at Alice, his hands fisted in anger. Alice stood with her arms folded tight across her chest. Only her lips moved. “I have no idea. I didn’t see anything.” “How is that possible?” he hissed. “Edward,” I said, a quiet reproof. I didn’t like him talking to Alice this way. Carlisle interrupted in a calming voice. “It’s not an exact science, Edward.” “He was in her room, Alice. He could have still been there — waiting for her.” “I would have seen that.” Edward threw his hands up in exasperation. “Really? You’re sure?” Alice’s voice was cold when she answered. “You’ve already got me watching the taking this out on you. That was inexcusable.” “I understand,” Alice assured him. “I’m not happy about it, either.” Edward took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s look at this logically. What are the possibilities?” Everyone seemed to thaw out at once. Alice relaxed and leaned against the back of the couch. Carlisle walked slowly toward her, his eyes far away. Esme sat on the sofa in front of Alice, curling her legs up on the seat. Only Rosalie remained unmoving, her back to us, staring out the glass wall. Edward pulled me to the sofa and I sat next to Esme, who shifted to put her arm around me. He held one of my hands tightly in both of his. “Victoria?” Carlisle asked. Edward shook his head. “No. I didn’t know the scent. He might have been from the Volturi, someone I’ve never met. . . .” Alice shook her head. “Aro hasn’t asked anyone to look for her yet. I will see that. I’m waiting for it.” Edward’s head snapped up. “You’re watching for an official command.” “You think someone’s acting on their own? Why?”
“Caius’s idea,” Edward suggested, his face tightening again. “Or Jane’s . . . ,” Alice said. “They both have the resources to send an unfamiliar face. . . .” Edward scowled. “And the motivation.” “It doesn’t make sense, though,” Esme said. “If whoever it was meant to wait for Bella, Alice would have seen that. He — or she — had no intention of hurting Bella. Or Charlie, for that matter.” I cringed at my father’s name. “It’s going to be fine, Bella,” Esme murmured, smoothing my hair. “But what was the point then?” Carlisle mused. “Checking to see if I’m still human?” I guessed. “Possible,” Carlisle said. Rosalie breathed out a sigh, loud enough for me to hear. She’d unfrozen, and her face was turned expectantly toward the kitchen. Edward, on the other hand, looked discouraged. Emmett burst through the kitchen door, Jasper right behind him.
“Long gone, hours ago,” Emmett announced, disappointed. “The trail went East, then South, and disappeared on a side road. Had a car waiting.” “That’s bad luck,” Edward muttered. “If he’d gone west . . . well, it would be nice for those dogs to make themselves useful.” I winced, and Esme rubbed my shoulder. Jasper looked at Carlisle. “Neither of us recognized him. But here.” He held out something green and crumpled. Carlisle took it from him and held it to his face. I saw, as it exchanged hands, that it was a broken fern frond. “Maybe you know the scent.” “No,” Carlisle said. “Not familiar. No one I’ve ever met.” “Perhaps we’re looking at this the wrong way. Maybe it’s a coincidence . . . ,” Esme began, but stopped when she saw everyone else’s incredulous expressions. “I don’t mean a coincidence that a stranger happened to pick Bella’s house to visit at random. I meant that maybe someone was just curious. Our scent is all around her. Was he wondering what draws us there?” “Why wouldn’t he just come here then? If he was curious?” Emmett demanded. “You would,” Esme said with a sudden, fond smile. “The rest of us aren’t always so direct. Our family is very large — he or she might be frightened. But Charlie wasn’t harmed. This doesn’t have to be an enemy.” Just curious. Like James and Victoria had been curious, in the beginning? The thought of Victoria made me tremble, though the one thing they seemed certain of was that it had not been her. Not this time. She would stick to her obsessed pattern. This was just someone else, a stranger. I was slowly realizing that vampires were much bigger participants in this world than I’d once thought. How many times did the average human cross paths with them, completely unaware? How many deaths, obliviously reported as crimes and accidents, were really due to their thirst? How crowded would this new world be when I finally joined it? The shrouded future sent a shiver down my spine. The Cullens pondered Esme’s words with varying expressions. I could see that Edward did not accept her theory, and that Carlisle very much wanted to. Alice pursed her lips. “I don’t think so. The timing of it was too perfect. . . . This visitor was so careful to make no contact. Almost like he or she knew that I would see. . . .” “He could have other reasons for not making contact,” Esme reminded her. “Does it really matter who it was?” I asked. “Just the chance that someone was looking for me . . . isn’t that reason enough? We shouldn’t wait for graduation.”
“No, Bella,” Edward said quickly. “It’s not that bad. If you’re really in danger, we’ll know.” “Think of Charlie,” Carlisle reminded me. “Think of how it would hurt him if you disappeared.” “I am thinking of Charlie! He’s the one I’m worried about! What if my little guest had happened to be thirsty last night? As long as I’m around Charlie, he’s a target, too. If anything happened to him, it would be all my fault!” “Hardly, Bella,” Esme said, patting my hair again. “And nothing will happen to Charlie. We’re just going to have to be more careful.” “More careful?” I repeated in disbelief. “It’s all going to be fine, Bella,” Alice promised; Edward squeezed my hand. And I could see, looking at all of their beautiful faces one by one, that nothing I could say was going to change their minds. It was a quiet ride home. I was frustrated. Against my better judgment, I was still human. “You won’t be alone for a second,” Edward promised as he drove me to Charlie’s. “Someone will always be there. Emmett, Alice, Jasper . . .”
sighed. “This is ridiculous. They’ll get so bored, they’ll have to kill me themselves, just for something to do.” Edward gave me a sour look. “Hilarious, Bella.” Charlie was in a good mood when we got back. He could see the tension between me and Edward, and he was misinterpreting it. He watched me throw together his dinner with a smug smile on his face. Edward had excused himself for a moment, to do some surveillance, I assumed, but Charlie waited till he was back to pass on my messages. “Jacob called again,” Charlie said as soon as Edward was in the room. I kept my face empty as I set the plate in front of him. “Is that a fact?” Charlie frowned. “Don’t be petty, Bella. He sounded really low.” “Is Jacob paying you for all the P.R., or are you a volunteer?” Charlie grumbled incoherently at me until the food cut off his garbled complaint. Though he didn’t realize it, he’d found his mark. My life was feeling a lot like a game of dice right now — would the next roll come up snake eyes? What if something did happen to me? It seemed worse than petty to leave Jacob feeling guilty about what he’d said. But I didn’t want to talk to him with Charlie around, to have to watch my every word so I didn’t let the wrong thing slip. Thinking about this made me jealous of Jacob and Billy’s relationship. How easy it must be when you had no secrets from the person you lived with. So I would wait for the morning. I most likely wasn’t going to die tonight, after all, and it wouldn’t hurt him to feel guilty for twelve more hours. It might even be good for him. When Edward officially left for the evening, I wondered who was out in the downpour, keeping an eye on Charlie and me. I felt awful for Alice or whoever else it might be, but still comforted. I had to admit it was nice, knowing I wasn’t alone. And Edward was back in record time. He sang me to sleep again and — aware even in unconsciousness that he was there — I slept free of nightmares. In the morning, Charlie left to go fishing with Deputy Mark before I was up. I decided to use this lack of supervision to be divine. “I’m going to let Jacob off the hook,” I warned Edward after I’d eaten breakfast. “I knew you’d forgive him,” he said with an easy smile. “Holding grudges is not one of I rolled my eyes, but I was pleased. It seemed like Edward really was over the whole anti-werewolf thing. I didn’t look at the clock until after I’d dialed. It was a little early for calls, and I worried that I would wake Billy and Jake, but someone picked up before the second ring, so he couldn’t have been too far from the phone. “Hello?” a dull voice said. “Jacob?” “Bella!” he exclaimed. “Oh, Bella, I’m so sorry!” he tripped over the words as he hurried to get them out. “I swear I didn’t mean it. I was just being stupid. I was angry — but that’s no excuse. It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever said in my life and I’m sorry. Don’t be mad at me, please? Please. Lifetime of servitude up for grabs — all you have to do is forgive me.” “I’m not mad. You’re forgiven.” “Thank you,” he breathed fervently. “I can’t believe I was such a jerk.” “Don’t worry about that — I’m used to it.” He laughed, exuberant with relief. “Come down to see me,” he begged. “I want to make it up to you.”
“Anything you want. Cliff diving,” he suggested, laughing again. “Oh, there’s a brilliant idea.” “I’ll keep you safe,” he promised. “No matter what you want to do.” I glanced at Edward. His face was very calm, but I was sure this was not the time. “Not right now.” “He’s not thrilled with me, is he?” Jacob’s voice was ashamed, rather than bitter, for once. “That’s not the problem. There’s . . . well, there’s this other problem that’s slightly more worrisome than a bratty teenage werewolf. . . .” I tried to keep my tone joking, but I didn’t fool him. “What’s wrong?” he demanded. “Um.” I wasn’t sure what I should tell him. Edward held his hand out for the phone. I looked at his face carefully. He seemed calm enough.
“Bella?” Jacob asked. Edward sighed, holding his hand closer. “Do you mind speaking to Edward?” I asked apprehensively. “He wants to talk to you.” There was a long pause. “Okay,” Jacob finally agreed. “This should be interesting.” I handed the phone to Edward; I hoped he could read the warning in my eyes. “Hello, Jacob,” Edward said, perfectly polite. There was a silence. I bit my lip, trying to guess how Jacob would answer. “Someone was here — not a scent I know,” Edward explained. “Has your pack come across anything new?” Another pause, while Edward nodded to himself, unsurprised. “Here’s the crux, Jacob. I won’t be letting Bella out of my sight till I get this taken care of. It’s nothing personal —” Jacob interrupted him then, and I could hear the buzz of his voice from the receiver. Whatever he was saying, he was more intense than before. I tried unsuccessfully to make out the words. “You might be right —,” Edward began, but Jacob was arguing again. Neither of them sounded angry, at least. “That’s an interesting suggestion. We’re quite willing to renegotiate. If Sam is amenable.” Jacob’s voice was quieter now. I started chewing on my thumbnail as I tried to read Edward’s expression. “Thank you,” Edward replied. Then Jacob said something that caused a surprised expression to flicker across Edward’s face. “I’d planned to go alone, actually,” Edward said, answering the unexpected question. “And leave her with the others.” Jacob’s voice rose in pitch, and it sounded to me like he was trying to be persuasive. “I’ll try to consider it objectively,” Edward promised. “As objectively as I’m capable of.” The pause was shorter this time. “That’s not a half-bad idea. When? . . . No, that’s fine. I’d like a chance to follow the trail personally, anyway. Ten minutes . . . Certainly,” Edward said. He held the phone out to me. “Bella?” I took it slowly, feeling confused. “What was that all about?” I asked Jacob, my voice peeved. I knew it was juvenile, but I felt excluded. “A truce, I think. Hey, do me a favor,” Jacob suggested. “Try to convince your bloodsucker that the safest place for you to be — especially when he leaves — is on the reservation. We’re well able to handle anything.” “Is that what you were trying to sell him?” “Yes. It makes sense. Charlie’s probably better off here, too. As much as possible.” “Get Billy on it,” I agreed. I hated that I was putting Charlie within the range of the crosshairs that always seemed to be centered on me. “What else?” “Just rearranging some boundaries, so we can catch anyone who gets too near Forks. I’m not sure if Sam will go for it, but until he comes around, I’ll keep an eye on things.” “What do you mean by ‘keep an eye on things’?” “I mean that if you see a wolf running around your house, don’t shoot at it.”
He snorted. “Don’t be stupid. I can take care of myself.” I sighed. “I also tried to convince him to let you visit. He’s prejudiced, so don’t let him give you any crap about safety. He knows as well as I do that you’d be safe here.” “I’ll keep that in mind.” “See you in a few,” Jacob said. “You’re coming up?” “Yeah. I’m going to get the scent of your visitor so we can track him if he comes back.” “Jake, I really don’t like the idea of you tracking —” “Oh please, Bella,” he interrupted. Jacob laughed, and then hung up.
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10. SCENT
IT WAS ALL VERY CHILDISH. WHY ON EARTH SHOULD EDward have to leave for Jacob to come over? Weren’t we past this kind of immaturity? “It’s not that I feel any personal antagonism toward him, Bella, it’s just easier for both of us,” Edward told me at the door. “I won’t be far away. You’ll be safe.” “I’m not worried about that.” He smiled, and then a sly look came into his eye. He pulled me close, burying his face in my hair. I could feel his cool breath saturate the strands as he exhaled; it raised goose bumps on my neck. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and then he laughed aloud as if I’d just told a good joke. “What’s so funny?” But Edward just grinned and loped off toward the trees without answering. Grumbling to myself, I went to clean up the kitchen. Before I even had the sink full of water, the doorbell rang. It was hard to get used to how much faster Jacob was without his car. How everyone seemed to be so much faster than me. . . . “Come in, Jake!” I shouted. I was concentrating on piling the dishes into the bubbly water, and I’d forgotten that Jacob moved like a ghost these days. So it made me jump when his voice was suddenly there behind me. “Should you really leave your door unlocked like that? Oh, sorry.” I’d slopped myself with the dishwater when he’d startled me. “I’m not worried about anyone who would be deterred by a locked door,” I said while I wiped the front of my shirt with a dishtowel. “Good point,” he agreed. I turned to look at him, eyeing him critically. “Is it really so impossible to wear clothes, Jacob?” I asked. Once again, Jacob was bare-chested, wearing nothing but a pair of old cut-off jeans. Secretly, I wondered if he was just so proud of his new muscles that he couldn’t stand to cover them up. I had to admit, they were impressive — but I’d never thought of him as vain. “I mean, I know you don’t get cold anymore, but still.” He ran a hand through his wet hair; it was falling in his eyes. “It’s just easier,” he explained. “What’s easier?” He smiled condescendingly. “It’s enough of a pain to carry the shorts around with me, let alone a complete outfit. What do I look like, a pack mule?”
I frowned. “What are you talking about, Jacob?” His expression was superior, like I was missing something obvious. “My clothes don’t just pop in and out of existence when I change — I have to carry them with me while I run. Pardon me for keeping my burden light.” I changed color. “I guess I didn’t think about that,” I muttered. He laughed and pointed to a black leather cord, thin as a strand of yarn, that was wound three times below his left calf like an anklet. I hadn’t noticed before that his feet were bare, too. “That’s more than just a fashion statement — it sucks to carry jeans in your mouth.” I didn’t know what to say to that. He grinned. “Does my being half-naked bother you?” “No.” Jacob laughed again, and I turned my back on him to focus on the dishes. I hoped he realized my blush was left over from embarrassment at my own stupidity, and had nothing to do with his question. “Well, I suppose I should get to work.” He sighed. “I wouldn’t want to give him an excuse to say I’m slacking on my side.”
“Jacob, it’s not your job —” He raised a hand to cut me off. “I’m working on a volunteer basis here. Now, where is the intruder’s scent the worst?” “My bedroom, I think.” His eyes narrowed. He didn’t like that any more than Edward had. “I’ll just be a minute.” I methodically scrubbed the plate I was holding. The only sound was the brush’s plastic bristles scraping round and round on the ceramic. I listened for something from above, a creak of the floorboard, the click of a door. There was nothing. I realized I’d been cleaning the same plate far longer than necessary, and I tried to pay attention to what I was doing. “Whew!” Jacob said, inches behind me, scaring me again. “Yeesh, Jake, cut that out!” “Sorry. Here —” Jacob took the towel and mopped up my new spill. “I’ll make it up to you. You wash, I’ll rinse and dry.” “Fine.” I gave him the plate. “Well, the scent was easy enough to catch. By the way, your room reeks.”
“I’ll buy some air freshener.” He laughed. I washed and he dried in companionable silence for a few minutes. “Can I ask you something?” I handed him another plate. “That depends on what you want to know.” “I’m not trying to be a jerk or anything — I’m honestly curious,” Jacob assured me. “Fine. Go ahead.” He paused for half a second. “What’s it like — having a vampire for a boyfriend?” I rolled my eyes. “It’s the best.” “I’m serious. The idea doesn’t bother you — it never creeps you out?” “Never.” He was silent as he reached for the bowl in my hands. I peeked up at his face — he was frowning, his lower lip jutting out. “Anything else?” I asked.
He wrinkled his nose again. “Well . . . I was wondering . . . do you . . . y’know, kiss him?” I laughed. “Yes.” He shuddered. “Ugh.” “To each her own,” I murmured. “You don’t worry about the fangs?” I smacked his arm, splashing him with dishwater. “Shut up, Jacob! You know he doesn’t have fangs!” “Close enough,” he muttered. I gritted my teeth and scrubbed a boning knife with more force than necessary. “Can I ask another one?” he asked softly when I passed the knife to him. “Just curious, again.” “Fine,” I snapped. He turned the knife over and over in his hands under the stream of water. When he spoke, it was only a whisper. “You said a few weeks. . . . When, exactly . . . ?” He couldn’t finish.
“Graduation,” I whispered back, watching his face warily. Would this set him off again? “So soon,” he breathed, his eyes closing. It didn’t sound like a question. It sounded like a lament. The muscles in his arms tightened and his shoulders were stiff. “OW!” he shouted; it had gotten so still in the room that I jumped a foot in the air at his outburst. His right hand had curled into a tense fist around the blade of the knife — he unclenched his hand and the knife clattered onto the counter. Across his palm was a long, deep gash. The blood streamed down his fingers and dripped on the floor. “Damn it! Ouch!” he complained. My head spun and my stomach rolled. I clung to the countertop with one hand, took a deep breath through my mouth, and forced myself to get a grip so that I could take care of him. “Oh, no, Jacob! Oh, crap! Here, wrap this around it!” I shoved the dish towel at him, reaching for his hand. He shrugged away from me. “It’s nothing, Bella, don’t worry about it.” The room started to shimmer a little around the edges.
I took another deep breath. “Don’t worry?! You sliced your hand open!” He ignored the dish towel I pushed at him. He put his hand under the faucet and let the water wash over the wound. The water ran red. My head whirled. “Bella,” he said. I looked away from the wound, up to his face. He was frowning, but his expression was calm. “What?” “You look like you’re going to pass out, and you’re biting your lip off. Stop it. Relax. Breathe. I’m fine.” I inhaled through my mouth and removed my teeth from my lower lip. “Don’t be brave.” He rolled his eyes. “Let’s go. I’ll drive you to the ER.” I was pretty sure I would be okay to drive. The walls were holding steady now, at least. “Not necessary.” Jake turned off the water and took the towel from my hand. He twisted it loosely around his palm.
“Wait,” I protested. “Let me look at it.” I clutched the counter more firmly, to hold myself upright if the wound made me woozy again. “Do you have a medical degree that you never told me about?” “Just give me the chance to decide whether or not I’m going to throw a fit over taking you to the hospital.” He made a face of mock horror. “Please, not a fit!” “If you don’t let me see your hand, a fit is guaranteed.” He inhaled deeply, and then let out a gusty sigh. “Fine.” He unwound the towel and, when I reached out to take the cloth, he laid his hand in mine. It took me a few seconds. I even flipped his hand over, though I was sure he’d cut his palm. I turned his hand back up, finally realizing that the angry pink, puckered line was all that was left of his wound. “But . . . you were bleeding . . . so much.” He pulled his hand back, his eyes steady and somber on mine. “I heal fast.”
“I’ll say,” I mouthed. I’d seen the long gash clearly, seen the blood that flowed into the sink. The rust-and-salt smell of it had almost pulled me under. It should have needed stitches. It should have taken days to scab over and then weeks to fade into the shiny pink scar that marked his skin now. He screwed his mouth up into half a smile and thumped his fist once against his chest. “Werewolf, remember?” His eyes held mine for an immeasurable moment. “Right,” I finally said. He laughed at my expression. “I told you this. You saw Paul’s scar.” I shook my head to clear it. “It’s a little different, seeing the action sequence firsthand.” I kneeled down and dug the bleach out of the cabinet under the sink. Then I poured some on a dusting rag and started scrubbing the floor. The burning scent of the bleach cleared the last of the dizziness from my head. “Let me clean up,” Jacob said. “I got this. Throw that towel in the wash, will you?” When I was sure the floor smelled of nothing but bleach, I got up and rinsed the right side of the sink with bleach, too. Then I went to the laundry closet beside the pantry, and poured a cupful into the washing machine before starting it. Jacob watched me with a disapproving look on his face. “Do you have obsessive-compulsive disorder?” he asked when I was done. Huh. Maybe. But at least I had a good excuse this time. “We’re a bit sensitive to blood around here. I’m sure you can understand that.” “Oh.” He wrinkled his nose again. “Why not make it as easy as possible for him? What he’s doing is hard enough.” “Sure, sure. Why not?” I pulled the plug, and let the dirty water drain from the sink. “Can I ask you something, Bella?” I sighed. “What’s it like — having a werewolf for a best friend?” The question caught me off guard. I laughed out loud. “Does it creep you out?” he pressed before I could answer.
“No. When the werewolf is being nice,” I qualified, “it’s the best.” He grinned widely, his teeth bright against his russet skin. “Thanks, Bella,” he said, and then he grabbed my hand and wrenched me into one of his bone-crushing hugs. Before I had time to react, he dropped his arms and stepped away. “Ugh,” he said, his nose wrinkling. “Your hair stinks worse than your room.” “Sorry,” I muttered. I suddenly understood what Edward had been laughing about earlier, after breathing on me. “One of the many hazards of socializing with vampires,” Jacob said, shrugging. “It makes you smell bad. A minor hazard, comparatively.” I glared at him. “I only smell bad to you, Jake.” He grinned. “See you around, Bells.” “Are you leaving?” “He’s waiting for me to go. I can hear him outside.” “Oh.” “I’ll go out the back,” he said, and then he paused. “Hold up a sec — hey, do you think you can come to La Push tonight? We’re having a bonfire party. Emily will be there, and you could meet Kim . . . And I know Quil wants to see you, too. He’s pretty peeved that you found out before he did.” I grinned at that. I could just imagine how that would have irked Quil — Jacob’s little human gal pal down with the werewolves while he was still clueless. And then I sighed. “Yeah, Jake, I don’t know about that. See, it’s a little tense right now. . . .” “C’mon, you think somebody’s going to get past all — all six of us?” There was a strange pause as he stuttered over the end of his question. I wondered if he had trouble saying the word werewolf aloud, the way I often had difficulty with vampire. His big dark eyes were full of unashamed pleading. “I’ll ask,” I said doubtfully. He made a noise in the back of his throat. “Is he your warden, now, too? You know, I saw this story on the news last week about controlling, abusive teenage relationships and —” “Okay!” I cut him off, and then shoved his arm. “Time for the werewolf to get out!” He grinned. “Bye, Bells. Be sure you ask permission.”
He ducked out the back door before I could find something to throw at him. I growled incoherently at the empty room. Seconds after he was gone, Edward walked slowly into the kitchen, raindrops glistening like diamonds set into the bronze of his hair. His eyes were wary. “Did you two get into a fight?” he asked. “Edward!” I sang, throwing myself at him. “Hi, there.” He laughed and wrapped his arms around me. “Are you trying to distract me? It’s working.” “No, I didn’t fight with Jacob. Much. Why?” “I was just wondering why you stabbed him. Not that I object.” With his chin, he gestured to the knife on the counter. “Dang! I thought I got everything.” I pulled away from him and ran to put the knife in the sink before I doused it with bleach. “I didn’t stab him,” I explained as I worked. “He forgot he had a knife in his hand.” Edward chuckled. “That’s not nearly as fun as the way I imagined it.”
“Be nice.” He took a big envelope from his jacket pocket and tossed it on the counter. “I got your mail.” “Anything good?” “I think so.” My eyes narrowed suspiciously at his tone. I went to investigate. He’d folded the legal-sized envelope in half. I smoothed it open, surprised at the weight of the expensive paper, and read the return address. “Dartmouth? Is this a joke?” “I’m sure it’s an acceptance. It looks exactly like mine.” “Good grief, Edward — what did you do?” “I sent in your application, that’s all.” “I may not be Dartmouth material, but I’m not stupid enough to believe that.” “Dartmouth seems to think that you’re Dartmouth material.”
I took a deep breath and counted slowly to ten. “That’s very generous of them,” I finally said. “However, accepted or not, there is still the minor matter of tuition. I can’t afford it, and I’m not letting you throw away enough money to buy yourself another sports car just so that I can pretend to go to Dartmouth next year.” “I don’t need another sports car. And you don’t have to pretend anything,” he murmured. “One year of college wouldn’t kill you. Maybe you’d even like it. Just think about it, Bella. Imagine how excited Charlie and Renée would be. . . .” His velvet voice painted the picture in my head before I could block it. Of course Charlie would explode with pride — no one in the town of Forks would be able to escape the fallout from his excitement. And Renée would be hysterical with joy at my triumph — though she’d swear she wasn’t at all surprised. . . . I tried to shake the image out of my head. “Edward. I’m worried about living through graduation, let alone this summer or next fall.” His arms wrapped around me again. “No one is going to hurt you. You have all the time in the world.” I sighed. “I’m mailing the contents of my bank account to Alaska tomorrow. It’s all the alibi I need. It’s far enough away that Charlie won’t expect a visit until Christmas at the earliest. And I’m sure I’ll think of some excuse by then. You know,” I teased halfheartedly, “this whole secrecy and deception thing is kind of a pain.” Edward’s expression hardened. “It gets easier. After a few decades, everyone you know is dead. Problem solved.” I flinched. “Sorry, that was harsh.” I stared down at the big white envelope, not seeing it. “But still true.” “If I get this resolved, whatever it is we’re dealing with, will you please consider waiting?” “Nope.” “Always so stubborn.” “Yep.” The washing machine thumped and stuttered to a halt. “Stupid piece of junk,” I muttered as I pulled away from him. I moved the one small towel that had unbalanced the otherwise empty machine, and started it again. “This reminds me,” I said. “Could you ask Alice what she did with my stuff when she cleaned my room? I can’t find it anywhere.” He looked at me with confused eyes. “Alice cleaned your room?” “Yeah, I guess that’s what she was doing. When she came to get my pajamas and pillow and stuff to hold me hostage.” I glowered at him briefly. “She picked up everything that was lying around, my shirts, my socks, and I don’t know where she put them.” Edward continued to look confused for one short moment, and then, abruptly, he was rigid. “When did you notice your things were missing?” “When I got back from the fake slumber party. Why?” “I don’t think Alice took anything. Not your clothes, or your pillow. The things that were taken, these were things you’d worn . . . and touched . . . and slept on?” “Yes. What is it, Edward?” His expression was strained. “Things with your scent.” “Oh!” We stared into each others eyes for a long moment.
cleaned my room? I can’t find it anywhere.” He looked at me with confused eyes. “Alice cleaned your room?” “Yeah, I guess that’s what she was doing. When she came to get my pajamas and pillow and stuff to hold me hostage.” I glowered at him briefly. “She picked up everything that was lying around, my shirts, my socks, and I don’t know where she put them.” Edward continued to look confused for one short moment, and then, abruptly, he was rigid. “When did you notice your things were missing?” “When I got back from the fake slumber party. Why?” “I don’t think Alice took anything. Not your clothes, or your pillow. The things that were taken, these were things you’d worn . . . and touched . . . and slept on?” “Yes. What is it, Edward?” His expression was strained. “Things with your scent.” “Oh!” We stared into each others eyes for a long moment.
“I need to see something. Did Charlie already throw it out?” “Maybe. . . .” Edward disappeared. He was back in half a second, new diamonds in his hair, a wet newspaper in his hands. He spread it out on the table, his eyes scanning quickly across the headlines. He leaned in, intent on something he was reading, one finger tracing passages that interested him most. “Carlisle’s right . . . yes . . . very sloppy. Young and crazed? Or a death wish?” he muttered to himself. I went to peek over his shoulder. The headline of the Seattle Times read: “Murder Epidemic Continues — Police Have No New Leads.” It was almost the same story Charlie had been complaining about a few weeks ago — the big-city violence that was pushing Seattle up the national murder hot-spot list. It wasn’t exactly the same story, though. The numbers were a lot higher. “It’s getting worse,” I murmured. He frowned. “Altogether out of control. This can’t be the work of just one newborn vampire. What’s going on? It’s as if they’ve never heard of the Volturi. Which is possible, I guess. No one has explained the rules to them . . . so who is creating them, then?” “The Volturi?” I repeated, shuddering. “This is exactly the kind of thing they routinely wipe out — immortals who threaten to expose us. They just cleaned up a mess like this a few years ago in Atlanta, and it hadn’t gotten nearly this bad. They will intervene soon, very soon, unless we can find some way to calm the situation. I’d really rather they didn’t come to Seattle just now. As long as they’re this close . . . they might decide to check on you.” I shuddered again. “What can we do?” “We need to know more before we can decide that. Perhaps if we can talk to these young ones, explain the rules, it can be resolved peacefully.” He frowned, like he didn’t think the chances of that were good. “We’ll wait until Alice has an idea of what’s going on. . . . We don’t want to step in until it’s absolutely necessary. After all, it’s not our responsibility. But it’s good we have Jasper,” he added, almost to himself. “If we are dealing with newborns, he’ll be helpful.” “Jasper? Why?” Edward smiled darkly. “Jasper is sort of an expert on young vampires.” “What do you mean, an expert?”
“You’ll have to ask him — the story is involved.” “What a mess,” I mumbled. “It does feel that way, doesn’t it? Like it’s coming at us from all sides these days.” He sighed. “Do you ever think that your life might be easier if you weren’t in love with me?” “Maybe. It wouldn’t be much of a life, though.” “For me,” he amended quietly. “And now, I suppose,” he continued with a wry smile, “you have something you want to ask me?” I stared at him blankly. “I do?” “Or maybe not.” He grinned. “I was rather under the impression that you’d promised to ask my permission to go to some kind of werewolf soirée tonight.” “Eavesdropping again?” He grinned. “Just a bit, at the very end.” “Well, I wasn’t going to ask you anyway. I figured you had enough to stress about.” He put his hand under my chin, and held my face so that he could read my eyes. “Would you like to go?”
“It’s no big thing. Don’t worry about it.” “You don’t have to ask my permission, Bella. I’m not your father — thank heaven for that. Perhaps you should ask Charlie, though.” “But you know Charlie will say yes.” “I do have a bit more insight into his probable answer than most people would, it’s true.” I just stared at him, trying to understand what he wanted, and trying to put out of my mind the yearning I felt to go to La Push so that I wouldn’t be swayed by my own wishes. It was stupid to want to go hang out with a bunch of big idiot wolf-boys right now when there was so much that was frightening and unexplained going on. Of course, that was exactly why I wanted to go. I wanted to escape the death threats, for just a few hours . . . to be the less-mature, more-reckless Bella who could laugh it off with Jacob, if only briefly. But that didn’t matter. “Bella,” Edward said. “I told you that I was going to be reasonable and trust your judgment. I meant that. If you trust the werewolves, then I’m not going to worry about them.” “Wow,” I said, as I had last night. “And Jacob’s right — about one thing, anyway — a pack of werewolves ought to be enough to protect even you for one evening.” “Are you sure?” “Of course. Only . . .” I braced myself. “I hope you won’t mind taking a few precautions? Allowing me to drive you to the boundary line, for one. And then taking a cell phone, so that I’ll know when to pick you up?” “That sounds . . . very reasonable.” “Excellent.” He smiled at me, and I could see no trace of apprehension in his jewel-like eyes. To no one’s surprise, Charlie had no problem at all with me going to La Push for a bonfire. Jacob crowed with undisguised exultation when I called to give him the news, and he seemed eager enough to embrace Edward’s safety measures. He promised to meet us at the line between territories at six. I had decided, after a short internal debate, that I would not sell my motorcycle. I would take it back to La Push where it belonged and, when I no longer needed it anymore . . . well, then, I would insist that Jacob profit from his work somehow. He could sell it or Tonight seemed like a good opportunity to return the bike to Jacob’s garage. As gloomy as I was feeling about things lately, every day seemed like a possible last chance. I didn’t have time to procrastinate any task, no matter how minor. Edward only nodded when I explained what I wanted, but I thought I saw a flicker of consternation in his eyes, and I knew he was no happier about the idea of me on a motorcycle than Charlie was. I followed him back to his house, to the garage where I’d left the bike. It wasn’t until I pulled the truck in and got out that I realized the consternation might not be entirely about my safety this time. Next to my little antique motorcycle, overshadowing it, was another vehicle. To call this other vehicle a motorcycle hardly seemed fair, since it didn’t seem to belong to the same family as my suddenly shabby-looking bike. It was big and sleek and silver and — even totally motionless — it looked fast. “What is that?” “Nothing,” Edward murmured. “It doesn’t look like nothing.”
Edward’s expression was casual; he seemed determined to blow it off. “Well, I didn’t know if you were going to forgive your friend, or he you, and I wondered if you would still want to ride your bike anyway. It sounded like it was something that you enjoyed. I thought I could go with you, if you wished.” He shrugged. I stared at the beautiful machine. Beside it, my bike looked like a broken tricycle. I felt a sudden wave of sadness when I realized that this was not a bad analogy for the way I probably looked next to Edward. “I wouldn’t be able to keep up with you,” I whispered. Edward put his hand under my chin and pulled my face around so that he could see it straight on. With one finger, he tried to push the corner of my mouth up. “I’d keep pace with you, Bella.” “That wouldn’t be much fun for you.” “Of course it would, if we were together.” I bit my lip and imagined it for a moment. “Edward, if you thought I was going too fast or losing control of the bike or something, what would you do?” He hesitated, obviously trying to find the right answer. I knew the truth: he’d find some way to save me before I crashed.
Then he smiled. It looked effortless, except for the tiny defensive tightening of his eyes. “This is something you do with Jacob. I see that now.” “It’s just that, well, I don’t slow him down so much, you know. I could try, I guess. . . .” I eyed the silver motorcycle doubtfully. “Don’t worry about it,” Edward said, and then he laughed lightly. “I saw Jasper admiring it. Perhaps it’s time he discovered a new way to travel. After all, Alice has her Porsche now.” “Edward, I —” He interrupted me with a quick kiss. “I said not to worry. But would you do something for me?” “Whatever you need,” I promised quickly. He dropped my face and leaned over the far side of the big motorcycle, retrieving something he had stashed there. He came back with one object that was black and shapeless, and another that was red and easily identifiable.
“Please?” he asked, flashing the crooked smile that always destroyed my resistance. I took the red helmet, weighing it in my hands. “I’ll look stupid.” “No, you’ll look smart. Smart enough not to get yourself hurt.” He threw the black thing, whatever it was, over his arm and then took my face in his hands. “There are things between my hands right now that I can’t live without. You could take care of them.” “Okay, fine. What’s that other thing?” I asked suspiciously. He laughed and shook out some kind of padded jacket. “It’s a riding jacket. I hear road rash is quite uncomfortable, not that I would know myself.” He held it out for me. With a deep sigh, I flipped my hair back and stuffed the helmet on my head. Then I shoved my arms through the sleeves of the jacket. He zipped me in, a smile playing around the corners of his lips, and took a step back. I felt bulky. “Be honest, how hideous do I look?” He took another step back and pursed his lips. “That bad, huh?” I muttered. “No, no, Bella. Actually . . .” he seemed to be struggling for the right word. “You look . . . sexy.” I laughed out loud. “Right.” “Very sexy, really.” “You are just saying that so that I’ll wear it,” I said. “But that’s okay. You’re right, it’s smarter.” He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his chest. “You’re silly. I suppose that’s part of your charm. Though, I’ll admit it, this helmet does have its drawbacks.” And then he pulled the helmet off so that he could kiss me. As Edward drove me toward La Push a little while later, I realized that this unprecedented situation felt oddly familiar. It took me a moment of thought to pinpoint the source of the déjà vu. “You know what this reminds me of?” I asked. “It’s just like when I was a kid and Renée would pass me off to Charlie for the summer. I feel like a seven-year-old.” Edward laughed. I didn’t mention it out loud, but the biggest difference between the two circumstances was that Renée and Charlie had been on better terms.
About halfway to La Push, we rounded the corner and found Jacob leaning against the side of the red Volkswagen he’d built for himself out of scraps. Jacob’s carefully neutral expression dissolved into a smile when I waved from the front seat. Edward parked the Volvo thirty yards away. “Call me whenever you’re ready to come home,” he said. “And I’ll be here.” “I won’t be out late,” I promised. Edward pulled the bike and my new gear out of the trunk of his car — I’d been quite impressed that it had all fit. But it wasn’t so hard to manage when you were strong enough to juggle full-sized vans, let alone small motorcycles. Jacob watched, making no move to approach, his smile gone and his dark eyes indecipherable. I tucked the helmet under my arm and threw the jacket across the seat. “Do you have it all?” Edward asked. “No problem,” I assured him. He sighed and leaned toward me. I turned my face up for a goodbye peck, but Edward took me by surprise, fastening his arms tightly around me and kissing me with as much enthusiasm as he had in the garage — before long, I was gasping for air. Edward laughed quietly at something, and then let me go. “Goodbye,” he said. “I really do like the jacket.” As I turned away from him, I thought I saw a flash of something in his eyes that I wasn’t supposed to see. I couldn’t tell for sure what it was exactly. Worry, maybe. For a second I thought it was panic. But I was probably just making something out of nothing, as usual. I could feel his eyes on my back as I pushed my bike toward the invisible vampire-werewolf treaty line to meet Jacob. “What’s all that?” Jacob called to me, his voice wary, scrutinizing the motorcycle with an enigmatic expression. “I thought I should put this back where it belongs,” I told him. He pondered that for one short second, and then his wide smile stretched across his face. I knew the exact point that I was in werewolf territory because Jacob shoved away from his car and loped quickly over to me, closing the distance in three long strides. He took the bike from me, balanced it on the kickstand, and grabbed me up in another vice-tight hug. I heard the Volvo’s engine growl, and I struggled to get free.
“Cut it out, Jake!” I gasped breathlessly. He laughed and set me down. I turned to wave goodbye, but the silver car was already disappearing around the curve in the road. “Nice,” I commented, allowing some acid to leak into my voice. His eyes widened in false innocence. “What?” “He’s being pretty dang pleasant about this; you don’t need to push your luck.” He laughed again, louder than before — he found what I’d said very funny indeed. I tried to see the joke as he walked around the Rabbit to hold my door open for me. “Bella,” he finally said — still chuckling — as he shut the door behind me, “you can’t push what you don’t have.” =========================================================================== 11. LEGENDS “ARE YOU GONNA EAT THAT HOT DOG?” PAUL ASKED JAcob, his eyes locked on the last remnant of the huge meal the werewolves had consumed.
Jacob leaned back against my knees and toyed with the hot dog he had spitted on a straightened wire hanger; the flames at the edge of the bonfire licked along its blistered skin. He heaved a sigh and patted his stomach. It was somehow still flat, though I’d lost count of how many hot dogs he’d eaten after his tenth. Not to mention the super-sized bag of chips or the two-liter bottle of root beer. “I guess,” Jake said slowly. “I’m so full I’m about to puke, but I think I can force it down. I won’t enjoy it at all, though.” He sighed again sadly. Despite the fact that Paul had eaten at least as much as Jacob, he glowered and his hands balled up into fists. “Sheesh.” Jacob laughed. “Kidding, Paul. Here.” He flipped the homemade skewer across the circle. I expected it to land hot-dog-first in the sand, but Paul caught it neatly on the right end without difficulty. Hanging out with no one but extremely dexterous people all the time was going to give me a complex. “Thanks, man,” Paul said, already over his brief fit of temper. The fire crackled, settling lower toward the sand. Sparks blew up in a sudden puff of brilliant orange against the black sky. Funny, I hadn’t noticed that the sun had set. For the first time, I wondered how late it had gotten. I’d lost track of time completely. It was easier being with my Quileute friends than I’d expected. While Jacob and I had dropped off my bike at the garage — and he had admitted ruefully that the helmet was a good idea that he should have thought of himself — I’d started to worry about showing up with him at the bonfire, wondering if the werewolves would consider me a traitor now. Would they be angry with Jacob for inviting me? Would I ruin the party? But when Jacob had towed me out of the forest to the clifftop meeting place — where the fire already roared brighter than the cloud-obscured sun — it had all been very casual and light. “Hey, vampire girl!” Embry had greeted me loudly. Quil had jumped up to give me a high five and kiss me on the cheek. Emily had squeezed my hand when we’d sat on the cool stone ground beside her and Sam. Other than a few teasing complaints — mostly by Paul — about keeping the bloodsucker stench downwind, I was treated like someone who belonged. It wasn’t just kids in attendance, either. Billy was here, his wheelchair stationed at what seemed the natural head of the circle. Beside him on a folding lawn chair, looking quite brittle, was Quil’s ancient, white-haired grandfather, Old Quil. Sue Clearwater, widow of Charlie’s friend Harry, had a chair on his other side; her two children, Leah and Seth, were also there, sitting on the ground like the rest of us. This surprised me, but all three were clearly in on the secret now. From the way Billy and Old Quil spoke to Sue, it sounded to me like she’d taken Harry’s place on the council. Did that make her children automatic members of La Push’s most secret society? I wondered how horrible it was for Leah to sit across the circle from Sam and Emily. Her lovely face betrayed no emotion, but she never looked away from the flames. Looking at the perfection of Leah’s features, I couldn’t help but compare them to Emily’s ruined face. What did Leah think of Emily’s scars, now that she knew the truth behind them? Did it seem like justice in her eyes? Little Seth Clearwater wasn’t so little anymore. With his huge, happy grin and his long, gangly build, he reminded me very much of a younger Jacob. The resemblance made me smile, and then sigh. Was Seth doomed to have his life change as drastically as the rest of these boys? Was that future why he and his family were allowed to be here? The whole pack was there: Sam with his Emily, Paul, Embry, Quil, and Jared with Kim, the girl he’d imprinted upon. My first impression of Kim was that she was a nice girl, a little shy, and a little plain. She had a wide face, mostly cheekbones, with eyes too small to balance them out. Her nose and mouth were both too broad for traditional beauty. Her flat black hair was thin and wispy in the wind that never seemed to let up atop the cliff. That was my first impression. But after a few hours of watching Jared watch Kim, I could no longer find anything plain about the girl. The way he stared at her! It was like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. Like a collector finding an undiscovered Da Vinci, like a mother looking into the face of her newborn child. His wondering eyes made me see new things about her — how her skin looked like russet-colored silk in the firelight, how the shape of her lips was a perfect double curve, how white her teeth were against them, how long her eyelashes were, brushing her cheek when she looked down. Kim’s skin sometimes darkened when she met Jared’s awed gaze, and her eyes would drop as if in embarrassment, but she had a hard time keeping her eyes away from his for any length of time. Watching them, I felt like I better understood what Jacob had told me about imprinting before — it’s hard to resist that level of commitment and adoration. Kim was nodding off now against Jared’s chest, his arms around her. I imagined she would be very warm there. “It’s getting late,” I murmured to Jacob.
“Don’t start that yet,” Jacob whispered back — though certainly half the group here had hearing sensitive enough to hear us anyway. “The best part is coming.” “What’s the best part? You swallowing an entire cow whole?” Jacob chuckled his low, throaty laugh. “No. That’s the finale. We didn’t meet just to eat through a week’s worth of food. This is technically a council meeting. It’s Quil’s first time, and he hasn’t heard the stories yet. Well, he’s heard them, but this will be the first time he knows they’re true. That tends to make a guy pay closer attention. Kim and Seth and Leah are all first-timers, too.” “Stories?” Jacob scooted back beside me, where I rested against a low ridge of rock. He put his arm over my shoulder and spoke even lower into my ear. “The histories we always thought were legends,” he said. “The stories of how we came to be. The first is the story of the spirit warriors.” It was almost as if Jacob’s soft whisper was the introduction. The atmosphere changed abruptly around the low-burning fire. Paul and Embry sat up straighter. Jared nudged Kim and then pulled her gently upright. Emily produced a spiral-bound notebook and a pen, looking exactly like a student set for an important lecture. Sam twisted just slightly beside her — so that he was facing the same direction as Old Quil, who was on his other side — and suddenly I realized that the elders of the council here were not three, but four in number. Leah Clearwater, her face still a beautiful and emotionless mask, closed her eyes — not like she was tired, but as if to help her concentration. Her brother leaned in toward the elders eagerly. The fire crackled, sending another explosion of sparks glittering up against the night. Billy cleared his throat, and, with no more introduction than his son’s whisper, began telling the story in his rich, deep voice. The words poured out with precision, as if he knew them by heart, but also with feeling and a subtle rhythm. Like poetry performed by its author. “The Quileutes have been a small people from the beginning,” Billy said. “And we are a small people still, but we have never disappeared. This is because there has always been magic in our blood. It wasn’t always the magic of shape-shifting — that came later. First, we were spirit warriors.” Never before had I recognized the ring of majesty that was in Billy Black’s voice, though I realized now that this authority had always been there. Emily’s pen sprinted across the sheets of paper as she tried to keep up with him.
“In the beginning, the tribe settled in this harbor and became skilled ship builders and fishermen. But the tribe was small, and the harbor was rich in fish. There were others who coveted our land, and we were too small to hold it. A larger tribe moved against us, and we took to our ships to escape them. “Kaheleha was not the first spirit warrior, but we do not remember the stories that came before his. We do not remember who was the first to discover this power, or how it had been used before this crisis. Kaheleha was the first great Spirit Chief in our history. In this emergency, Kaheleha used the magic to defend our land. “He and all his warriors left the ship — not their bodies, but their spirits. Their women watched over the bodies and the waves, and the men took their spirits back to our harbor. “They could not physically touch the enemy tribe, but they had other ways. The stories tell us that they could blow fierce winds into their enemy’s camps; they could make a great screaming in the wind that terrified their foes. The stories also tell us that the animals could see the spirit warriors and understand them; the animals would do their bidding. “Kaheleha took his spirit army and wreaked havoc on the intruders. This invading tribe had packs of big, thick-furred dogs that they used to pull their sleds in the frozen north. The spirit warriors turned the dogs against their masters and then brought a mighty infestation of bats up from the cliff caverns. They used the screaming wind to aid the dogs in confusing the men. The dogs and bats won. The survivors scattered, calling our harbor a cursed place. The dogs ran wild when the spirit warriors released them. The Quileutes returned to their bodies and their wives, victorious. “The other nearby tribes, the Hohs and the Makahs, made treaties with the Quileutes. They wanted nothing to do with our magic. We lived in peace with them. When an enemy came against us, the spirit warriors would drive them off. “Generations passed. Then came the last great Spirit Chief, Taha Aki. He was known for his wisdom, and for being a man of peace. The people lived well and content in his care. “But there was one man, Utlapa, who was not content.” A low hiss ran around the fire. I was too slow to see where it came from. Billy ignored it and went on with the legend. “Utlapa was one of Chief Taha Aki’s strongest spirit warriors — a powerful man, but a grasping man, too. He thought the people should use their magic to expand their lands, to enslave the Hohs and the Makahs and build an empire. “Now, when the warriors were their spirit selves, they knew each other’s thoughts. Taha Aki saw what Utlapa dreamed, and was angry with Utlapa. Utlapa was commanded to leave the people, and never use his spirit self again. Utlapa was a strong man, but the chief’s warriors outnumbered him. He had no choice but to leave. The furious outcast hid in the forest nearby, waiting for a chance to get revenge against the chief.
“Even in times of peace, the Spirit Chief was vigilant in protecting his people. Often, he would go to a sacred, secret place in the mountains. He would leave his body behind and sweep down through the forests and along the coast, making sure no threat approached. “One day when Taha Aki left to perform this duty, Utlapa followed. At first, Utlapa simply planned to kill the chief, but this plan had its drawbacks. Surely the spirit warriors would seek to destroy him, and they could follow faster than he could escape. As he hid in the rocks and watched the chief prepare to leave his body, another plan occurred to him. “Taha Aki left his body in the secret place and flew with the winds to keep watch over his people. Utlapa waited until he was sure the chief had traveled some distance with his spirit self. “Taha Aki knew it the instant that Utlapa had joined him in the spirit world, and he also knew Utlapa’s murderous plan. He raced back to his secret place, but even the winds weren’t fast enough to save him. When he returned, his body was already gone. Utlapa’s body lay abandoned, but Utlapa had not left Taha Aki with an escape — he had cut his own body’s throat with Taha Aki’s hands. “Taha Aki followed his body down the mountain. He screamed at Utlapa, but Utlapa ignored him as if he were mere wind. “Taha Aki watched with despair as Utlapa took his place as chief of the Quileutes. For a few weeks, Utlapa did nothing but make sure that everyone believed he was Taha Aki. Then the changes began — Utlapa’s first edict was to forbid any warrior to enter the spirit world. He claimed that he’d had a vision of danger, but really he was afraid. He knew that Taha Aki would be waiting for the chance to tell his story. Utlapa was also afraid to enter the spirit world himself, knowing Taha Aki would quickly claim his body. So his dreams of conquest with a spirit warrior army were impossible, and he sought to content himself with ruling over the tribe. He became a burden — seeking privileges that Taha Aki had never requested, refusing to work alongside his warriors, taking a young second wife and then a third, though Taha Aki’s wife lived on — something unheard of in the tribe. Taha Aki watched in helpless fury. “Eventually, Taha Aki tried to kill his body to save the tribe from Utlapa’s excesses. He brought a fierce wolf down from the mountains, but Utlapa hid behind his warriors. When the wolf killed a young man who was protecting the false chief, Taha Aki felt horrible grief. He ordered the wolf away. “All the stories tell us that it was no easy thing to be a spirit warrior. It was more frightening than exhilarating to be freed from one’s body. This is why they only used their magic in times of need. The chief’s solitary journeys to keep watch were a burden and a sacrifice. Being bodiless was disorienting, uncomfortable, horrifying. Taha Aki had been away from his body for so long at this point that he was in agony. He felt he was doomed — never to cross over to the final land where his ancestors waited, stuck in this torturous nothingness forever.
“The great wolf followed Taha Aki’s spirit as he twisted and writhed in agony through the woods. The wolf was very large for its kind, and beautiful. Taha Aki was suddenly jealous of the dumb animal. At least it had a body. At least it had a life. Even life as an animal would be better than this horrible empty consciousness. “And then Taha Aki had the idea that changed us all. He asked the great wolf to make room for him, to share. The wolf complied. Taka Aki entered the wolf’s body with relief and gratitude. It was not his human body, but it was better than the void of the spirit world. “As one, the man and the wolf returned to the village on the harbor. The people ran in fear, shouting for the warriors to come. The warriors ran to meet the wolf with their spears. Utlapa, of course, stayed safely hidden. “Taha Aki did not attack his warriors. He retreated slowly from them, speaking with his eyes and trying to yelp the songs of his people. The warriors began to realize that the wolf was no ordinary animal, that there was a spirit influencing it. One older warrior, a man name Yut, decided to disobey the false chief’s order and try to communicate with the wolf. “As soon as Yut crossed to the spirit world, Taha Aki left the wolf — the animal waited tamely for his return — to speak to him. Yut gathered the truth in an instant, and welcomed his true chief home. “At this time, Utlapa came to see if the wolf had been defeated. When he saw Yut lying lifeless on the ground, surrounded by protective warriors, he realized what was happening. He drew his knife and raced forward to kill Yut before he could return to his body. “‘Traitor,’ he screamed, and the warriors did not know what to do. The chief had forbidden spirit journeys, and it was the chief’s decision how to punish those who disobeyed. “Yut jumped back into his body, but Utlapa had his knife at his throat and a hand covering his mouth. Taha Aki’s body was strong, and Yut was weak with age. Yut could not say even one word to warn the others before Utlapa silenced him forever. “Taha Aki watched as Yut’s spirit slipped away to the final lands that were barred to Taha Aki for all eternity. He felt a great rage, more powerful than anything he’d felt before. He entered the big wolf again, meaning to rip Utlapa’s throat out. But, as he joined the wolf, the greatest magic happened. “Taha Aki’s anger was the anger of a man. The love he had for his people and the hatred he had for their oppressor were too vast for the wolf’s body, too human. The wolf shuddered, and — before the eyes of the shocked warriors and Utlapa — transformed into a man. “The new man did not look like Taha Aki’s body. He was far more glorious. He was the flesh interpretation of Taha Aki’s spirit. The warriors recognized him at once, though, for they had flown with Taha Aki’s spirit.
the thief and crushed the spirit from him before he could jump out of the stolen body. “The people rejoiced when they understood what had happened. Taha Aki quickly set everything right, working again with his people and giving the young wives back to their families. The only change he kept in place was the end of the spirit travels. He knew that it was too dangerous now that the idea of stealing a life was there. The spirit warriors were no more. “From that point on, Taha Aki was more than either wolf or man. They called him Taha Aki the Great Wolf, or Taha Aki the Spirit Man. He led the tribe for many, many years, for he did not age. When danger threatened, he would resume his wolf-self to fight or frighten the enemy. The people dwelt in peace. Taha Aki fathered many sons, and some of these found that, after they had reached the age of manhood, they, too, could transform into wolves. The wolves were all different, because they were spirit wolves and reflected the man they were inside.” “So that’s why Sam is all black,” Quil muttered under his breath, grinning. “Black heart, black fur.” I was so involved in the story, it was a shock to come back to the present, to the circle around the dying fire. With another shock, I realized that the circle was made up of Taha Aki’s great — to however many degrees — grandsons.
The fire threw a volley of sparks into the sky, and they shivered and danced, making shapes that were almost decipherable. “And your chocolate fur reflects what?” Sam whispered back to Quil. “How sweet you are?” Billy ignored their jibes. “Some of the sons became warriors with Taha Aki, and they no longer aged. Others, who did not like the transformation, refused to join the pack of wolf-men. These began to age again, and the tribe discovered that the wolf-men could grow old like anyone else if they gave up their spirit wolves. Taha Aki had lived the span of three old men’s lives. He had married a third wife after the deaths of the first two, and found in her his true spirit wife. Though he had loved the others, this was something else. He decided to give up his spirit wolf so that he would die when she did. “That is how the magic came to us, but it is not the end of the story. . . .” He looked at Old Quil Ateara, who shifted in his chair, straightening his frail shoulders. Billy took a drink from a bottle of water and wiped his forehead. Emily’s pen never hesitated as she scribbled furiously on the paper. “That was the story of the spirit warriors,” Old Quil began in a thin tenor voice. “This is the story of the third wife’s sacrifice. “Many years after Taha Aki gave up his spirit wolf, when he was an old man, trouble began in the north, with the Makahs. Several young women of their tribe had disappeared, and they blamed it on the neighboring wolves, who they feared and mistrusted. The wolf-men could still read each other’s thoughts while in their wolf forms, just like their ancestors had while in their spirit forms. They knew that none of their number was to blame. Taha Aki tried to pacify the Makah chief, but there was too much fear. Taha Aki did not want to have a war on his hands. He was no longer a warrior to lead his people. He charged his oldest wolf-son, Taha Wi, with finding the true culprit before hostilities began. “Taha Wi led the five other wolves in his pack on a search through the mountains, looking for any evidence of the missing Makahs. They came across something they had never encountered before — a strange, sweet scent in the forest that burned their noses to the point of pain.” I shrank a little closer to Jacob’s side. I saw the corner of his mouth twitch with humor, and his arm tightened around me. “They did not know what creature would leave such a scent, but they followed it,” Old Quil continued. His quavering voice did not have the majesty of Billy’s, but it had a strange, fierce edge of urgency about it. My pulse jumped as his words came faster. “They found faint traces of human scent, and human blood, along the trail. They were sure this was the enemy they were searching for.
“The journey took them so far north that Taha Wi sent half the pack, the younger ones, back to the harbor to report to Taha Aki. “Taha Wi and his two brothers did not return. “The younger brothers searched for their elders, but found only silence. Taha Aki mourned for his sons. He wished to avenge his sons’ death, but he was old. He went to the Makah chief in his mourning clothes and told him everything that had happened. The Makah chief believed his grief, and tensions ended between the tribes. “A year later, two Makah maidens disappeared from their homes on the same night. The Makahs called on the Quileute wolves at once, who found the same sweet stink all through the Makah village. The wolves went on the hunt again. “Only one came back. He was Yaha Uta, the oldest son of Taka Aki’s third wife, and the youngest in the pack. He brought something with him that had never been seen in all the days of the Quileutes — a strange, cold, stony corpse that he carried in pieces. All who were of Taha Aki’s blood, even those who had never been wolves, could smell the piercing smell of the dead creature. This was the enemy of the Makahs. “Yaha Uta described what had happened: he and his brothers had found the creature, who looked like a man but was hard as a granite rock, with the two Makah daughters. One girl was already dead, white and bloodless on the ground. The other was in the creature’s arms, his mouth at her throat. She may have been alive when they came upon the hideous scene, but the creature quickly snapped her neck and tossed her lifeless body to the ground when they approached. His white lips were covered in her blood, and his eyes glowed red. “Yaha Uta described the fierce strength and speed of the creature. One of his brothers quickly became a victim when he underestimated that strength. The creature ripped him apart like a doll. Yaha Uta and his other brother were more wary. They worked together, coming at the creature from the sides, outmaneuvering it. They had to reach the very limits of their wolf strength and speed, something that had never been tested before. The creature was hard as stone and cold as ice. They found that only their teeth could damage it. They began to rip small pieces of the creature apart while it fought them. “But the creature learned quickly, and soon was matching their maneuvers. It got its hands on Yaha Uta’s brother. Yaha Uta found an opening on the creature’s throat, and he lunged. His teeth tore the head off the creature, but the hands continued to mangle his brother. “Yaha Uta ripped the creature into unrecognizable chunks, tearing pieces apart in a desperate attempt to save his brother. He was too late, but, in the end, the creature was destroyed. “Or so they thought. Yaha Uta laid the reeking remains out to be examined by the elders. One severed hand lay beside a piece of the creature’s granite arm. The two pieces touched when the elders poked them with sticks, and the hand reached out towards the arm piece, trying to reassemble itself. “Horrified, the elders set fire to the remains. A great cloud of choking, vile smoke polluted the air. When there was nothing but ashes, they separated the ashes into many small bags and spread them far and wide — some in the ocean, some in the forest, some in the cliff caverns. Taha Aki wore one bag around his neck, so he would be warned if the creature ever tried to put himself together again.” Old Quil paused and looked at Billy. Billy pulled out a leather thong from around his neck. Hanging from the end was a small bag, blackened with age. A few people gasped. I might have been one of them. “They called it The Cold One, the Blood Drinker, and lived in fear that it was not alone. They only had one wolf protector left, young Yaha Uta. “They did not have long to wait. The creature had a mate, another blood drinker, who came to the Quileutes seeking revenge. “The stories say that the Cold Woman was the most beautiful thing human eyes had ever seen. She looked like the goddess of the dawn when she entered the village that morning; the sun was shining for once, and it glittered off her white skin and lit the golden hair that flowed down to her knees. Her face was magical in its beauty, her eyes black in her white face. Some fell to their knees to worship her.
“She asked something in a high, piercing voice, in a language no one had ever heard. The people were dumbfounded, not knowing how to answer her. There was none of Taha Aki’s blood among the witnesses but one small boy. He clung to his mother and screamed that the smell was hurting his nose. One of the elders, on his way to council, heard the boy and realized what had come among them. He yelled for the people to run. She killed him first. “There were twenty witnesses to the Cold Woman’s approach. Two survived, only because she grew distracted by the blood, and paused to sate her thirst. They ran to Taha Aki, who sat in counsel with the other elders, his sons, and his third wife. “Yaha Uta transformed into his spirit wolf as soon as he heard the news. He went to destroy the blood drinker alone. Taha Aki, his third wife, his sons, and his elders followed behind him. “At first they could not find the creature, only the evidence of her attack. Bodies lay broken, a few drained of blood, strewn across the road where she’d appeared. Then they heard the screams and hurried to the harbor. “A handful of the Quileutes had run to the ships for refuge. She swam after them like a shark, and broke the bow of their boat with her incredible strength. When the ship sank, she caught those trying to swim away and broke them, too. “She saw the great wolf on the shore, and she forgot the fleeing swimmers. She swam so fast she was a blur and came, dripping and glorious, to stand before Yaha Uta. She pointed at him with one white finger and asked another incomprehensible question. Yaha Uta waited. “It was a close fight. She was not the warrior her mate had been. But Yaha Uta was alone — there was no one to distract her fury from him. “When Yaha Uta lost, Taha Aki screamed in defiance. He limped forward and shifted into an ancient, white-muzzled wolf. The wolf was old, but this was Taha Aki the Spirit Man, and his rage made him strong. The fight began again. “Taha Aki’s third wife had just seen her son die before her. Now her husband fought, and she had no hope that he could win. She’d heard every word the witnesses to the slaughter had told the council. She’d heard the story of Yaha Uta’s first victory, and knew that his brother’s diversion had saved him. “The third wife grabbed a knife from the belt of one of the sons who stood beside her. They were all young sons, not yet men, and she knew they would die when their father failed. “The third wife ran toward the Cold Woman with the dagger raised high. The Cold Woman smiled, barely distracted from her fight with the old wolf. She had no fear of the weak human woman or the knife that would not even scratch her skin, and she was about to deliver the death blow to Taha Aki.
“And then the third wife did something the Cold Woman did not expect. She fell to her knees at the blood drinker’s feet and plunged the knife into her own heart. “Blood spurted through the third wife’s fingers and splashed against the Cold Woman. The blood drinker could not resist the lure of the fresh blood leaving the third wife’s body. Instinctively, she turned to the dying woman, for one second entirely consumed by thirst. “Taha Aki’s teeth closed around her neck. “That was not the end of the fight, but Taha Aki was not alone now. Watching their mother die, two young sons felt such rage that they sprang forth as their spirit wolves, though they were not yet men. With their father, they finished the creature. “Taha Aki never rejoined the tribe. He never changed back to a man again. He lay for one day beside the body of the third wife, growling whenever anyone tried to touch her, and then he went into the forest and never returned. “Trouble with the cold ones was rare from that time on. Taha Aki’s sons guarded the tribe until their sons were old enough to take their places. There were never more than three wolves at a time. It was enough. Occasionally a blood drinker would come through these lands, but they were taken by surprise, not expecting the wolves. Sometimes a wolf would die, but never were they decimated again like that first time. They’d learned how to fight the cold ones, and they passed the knowledge on, wolf mind to wolf mind, spirit to spirit, father to son. “Time passed, and the descendants of Taha Aki no longer became wolves when they reached manhood. Only in a great while, if a cold one was near, would the wolves return. The cold ones always came in ones and twos, and the pack stayed small. “A bigger coven came, and your own great-grandfathers prepared to fight them off. But the leader spoke to Ephraim Black as if he were a man, and promised not to harm the Quileutes. His strange yellow eyes gave some proof to his claim that they were not the same as other blood drinkers. The wolves were outnumbered; there was no need for the cold ones to offer a treaty when they could have won the fight. Ephraim accepted. They’ve stayed true to their side, though their presence does tend to draw in others. “And their numbers have forced a larger pack than the tribe has ever seen,” Old Quil said, and for one moment his black eyes, all but buried in the wrinkles of skin folded around them, seemed to rest on me. “Except, of course, in Taha Aki’s time,” he said, and then he sighed. “And so the sons of our tribe again carry the burden and share the sacrifice their fathers endured before them.” All was silent for a long moment. The living descendants of magic and legend stared at one another across the fire with sadness in their eyes. All but one. “Burden,” he scoffed in a low voice. “I think it’s cool.” Quil’s full lower lip pouted out a little bit.
Across the dying fire, Seth Clearwater — his eyes wide with adulation for the fraternity of tribal protectors — nodded his agreement. Billy chuckled, low and long, and the magic seemed to fade into the glowing embers. Suddenly, it was just a circle of friends again. Jared flicked a small stone at Quil, and everyone laughed when it made him jump. Low conversations murmured around us, teasing and casual. Leah Clearwater’s eyes did not open. I thought I saw something sparkling on her cheek like a tear, but when I looked back a moment later it was gone. Neither Jacob nor I spoke. He was so still beside me, his breath so deep and even, that I thought he might be close to sleep. My mind was a thousand years away. I was not thinking of Yaha Uta or the other wolves, or the beautiful Cold Woman — I could picture her only too easily. No, I was thinking of someone outside the magic altogether. I was trying to imagine the face of the unnamed woman who had saved the entire tribe, the third wife. Just a human woman, with no special gifts or powers. Physically weaker and slower than any of the monsters in the story. But she had been the key, the solution. She’d saved her husband, her young sons, her tribe. I wish they’d remembered her name. . . .
Something shook my arm. “C’mon, Bells,” Jacob said in my ear. “We’re here.” I blinked, confused because the fire seemed to have disappeared. I glared into the unexpected darkness, trying to make sense of my surroundings. It took me a minute to realize that I was no longer on the cliff. Jacob and I were alone. I was still under his arm, but I wasn’t on the ground anymore. How did I get in Jacob’s car? “Oh, crap!” I gasped as I realized that I had fallen asleep. “How late is it? Dang it, where’s that stupid phone?” I patted my pockets, frantic and coming up empty. “Easy. It’s not even midnight yet. And I already called him for you. Look — he’s waiting there.” “Midnight?” I repeated stupidly, still disoriented. I stared into the darkness, and my heartbeat picked up when my eyes made out the shape of the Volvo, thirty yards away. I reached for the door handle. “Here,” Jacob said, and he put a small shape into my other hand. The phone. “You called Edward for me?”
played nice, I’d get more time with you.” “Thanks, Jake,” I said, touched. “Really, thank you. And thanks for inviting me tonight. That was . . .” Words failed me. “Wow. That was something else.” “And you didn’t even stay up to watch me swallow a cow.” He laughed. “No, I’m glad you liked it. It was . . . nice for me. Having you there.” There was a movement in the dark distance — something pale ghosting against the black trees. Pacing? “Yeah, he’s not so patient, is he?” Jacob said, noticing my distraction. “Go ahead. But come back soon, okay?” “Sure, Jake,” I promised, cracking the car door open. Cold air washed across my legs and made me shiver. “Sleep tight, Bells. Don’t worry about anything — I’ll be watching out for you tonight.” I paused, one foot on the ground. “No, Jake. Get some rest, I’ll be fine.” “Sure, sure,” he said, but he sounded more patronizing than agreeing. “’Night, Jake. Thanks.”
“’Night, Bella,” he whispered as I hurried into the darkness. Edward caught me at the boundary line. “Bella,” he said, relief strong in his voice; his arms wound tightly around me. “Hi. Sorry I’m so late. I fell asleep and —” “I know. Jacob explained.” He started toward the car, and I staggered woodenly at his side. “Are you tired? I could carry you.” “I’m fine.” “Let’s get you home and in bed. Did you have a nice time?” “Yeah — it was amazing, Edward. I wish you could have come. I can’t even explain it. Jake’s dad told us the old legends and it was like . . . like magic.” “You’ll have to tell me about it. After you’ve slept.” “I won’t get it right,” I said, and then I yawned hugely. Edward chuckled. He opened my door for me, lifted me in, and buckled my seat belt around me. Bright lights flashed on and swept across us. I waved toward Jacob’s headlights, but I didn’t know if he saw the gesture. That night — after I’d gotten past Charlie, who didn’t give me as much trouble as I’d expected because Jacob had called him, too — instead of collapsing in bed right away, I leaned out the open window while I waited for Edward to come back. The night was surprisingly cold, almost wintry. I hadn’t noticed it at all on the windy cliffs; I imagined that had less to do with the fire than it did with sitting next to Jacob. Icy droplets spattered against my face as the rain began to fall. It was too dark to see much besides the black triangles of the spruces leaning and shaking with the wind. But I strained my eyes anyway, searching for other shapes in the storm. A pale silhouette, moving like a ghost through the black . . . or maybe the shadowy outline of an enormous wolf. . . . My eyes were too weak. Then there was a movement in the night, right beside me. Edward slid through my open window, his hands colder than the rain. “Is Jacob out there?” I asked, shivering as Edward pulled me into the circle of his arm. “Yes . . . somewhere. And Esme’s on her way home.” I sighed. “It’s so cold and wet. This is silly.” I shivered again. He chuckled. “It’s only cold to you, Bella.”
It was cold in my dream that night, too, maybe because I slept in Edward’s arms. But I dreamt I was outside in the storm, the wind whipping my hair in my face and blinding my eyes. I stood on the rocky crescent of First Beach, trying to understand the quickly moving shapes I could only dimly see in the darkness at the shore’s edge. At first, there was nothing but a flash of white and black, darting toward each other and dancing away. And then, as if the moon had suddenly broken from the clouds, I could see everything. Rosalie, her hair swinging wet and golden down to the back of her knees, was lunging at an enormous wolf — its muzzle shot through with silver — that I instinctively recognized as Billy Black. I broke into a run, but found myself moving in the frustrating slow motion of dreamers. I tried to scream to them, to tell them to stop, but my voice was stolen by the wind, and I could make no sound. I waved my arms, hoping to catch their attention. Something flashed in my hand, and I noticed for the first time that my right hand wasn’t empty. I held a long, sharp blade, ancient and silver, crusted in dried, blackened blood. I cringed away from the knife, and my eyes snapped open to the quiet darkness of my bedroom. The first thing I realized was that I was not alone, and I turned to bury my face in Edward’s chest, knowing the sweet scent of his skin would chase the nightmare away more effectively than anything else.
“Did I wake you?” he whispered. There was the sound of paper, the ruffling of pages, and a faint thump as something light fell to the wooden floor. “No,” I mumbled, sighing in contentment as his arms tightened around me. “I had a bad dream.” “Do you want to tell me about it?” I shook my head. “Too tired. Maybe in the morning, if I remember.” I felt a silent laugh shake through him. “In the morning,” he agreed. “What were you reading?” I muttered, not really awake at all. “Wuthering Heights,” he said. I frowned sleepily. “I thought you didn’t like that book.” “You left it out,” he murmured, his soft voice lulling me toward unconsciousness. “Besides . . . the more time I spend with you, the more human emotions seem comprehensible to me. I’m discovering that I can sympathize with Heathcliff in ways I didn’t think possible before.” “Mmm,” I sighed.
He said something else, something low, but I was already asleep. The next morning dawned pearl gray and still. Edward asked me about my dream, but I couldn’t get a handle on it. I only remembered that I was cold, and that I was glad he was there when I woke up. He kissed me, long enough to get my pulse racing, and then headed home to change and get his car. I dressed quickly, low on options. Whoever had ransacked my hamper had critically impaired my wardrobe. If it wasn’t so frightening, it would be seriously annoying. As I was about to head down for breakfast, I noticed my battered copy of Wuthering Heights lying open on the floor where Edward had dropped it in the night, holding his place the way the damaged binding always held mine. I picked it up curiously, trying to remember what he’d said. Something about feeling sympathy for Heathcliff, of all people. That couldn’t be right; I must have dreamed that part. Three words on the open page caught my eye, and I bent my head to read the paragraph more closely. It was Heathcliff speaking, and I knew the passage well. And there you see the distinction between our feelings: had he been in my place and I in his, though I hated him with a hatred that turned my life to gall, I never would have raised a hand against him. You may look incredulous, if you please! I never would have banished him from her society as long as she desired his. The moment her regard ceased, I would have torn his heart out, and drank his blood! But, till then — if you don’t believe me, you don’t know me — till then, I would have died by inches before I touched a single hair of his head! The three words that had caught my eye were “drank his blood.” I shuddered. Yes, surely I must have dreamt that Edward said anything positive about Heathcliff. And this page was probably not the page he’d been reading. The book could have fallen open to any page.
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12. TIME
“I HAVE FORESEEN . . . ,” ALICE BEGAN IN AN OMINOUS tone. Edward threw an elbow toward her ribs, which she neatly dodged. “Fine,” she grumbled. “Edward is making me do this. But I did foresee that you would be more difficult if I surprised you.” We were walking to the car after school, and I was completely clueless as to what she was talking about. “In English?” I requested. “Don’t be a baby about this. No tantrums.” “Now I’m scared.” “So you’re — I mean we’re — having a graduation party. It’s no big thing. Nothing to freak out over. But I saw that you would freak out if I tried to make it a surprise party” — she danced out of the way as Edward reached over to muss her hair — “and Edward said I had to tell you. But it’s nothing. Promise.” I sighed heavily. “Is there any point in arguing?” “None at all.” “Okay, Alice. I’ll be there. And I’ll hate every minute of it. Promise.” “That’s the spirit! By the way, I love my gift. You shouldn’t have.” “Alice, I didn’t!” “Oh, I know that. But you will.” I racked my brains in panic, trying to remember what I’d ever decided to get her for graduation that she might have seen.
Alice laughed. “It’s a talent.” “Couldn’t you have waited a few weeks to tell me about this?” I asked petulantly. “Now I’ll just be stressed that much longer.” Alice frowned at me. “Bella,” she said slowly. “Do you know what day it is?” “Monday?” She rolled her eyes. “Yes. It is Monday . . . the fourth.” She grabbed my elbow, spun me halfway around, and pointed toward a big yellow poster taped to the gym door. There, in sharp black letters, was the date of graduation. Exactly one week from today. “It’s the fourth? Of June? Are you sure?” Neither one answered. Alice just shook her head sadly, feigning disappointment, and Edward’s eyebrows lifted. “It can’t be! How did that happen?” I tried to count backwards in my head, but I couldn’t figure out where the days had gone.
I felt like someone had kicked my legs out from under me. The weeks of stress, of worry . . . somehow in the middle of all my obsessing over the time, my time had disappeared. My space for sorting through it all, for making plans, had vanished. I was out of time. And I wasn’t ready. I didn’t know how to do this. How to say goodbye to Charlie and Renée . . . to Jacob . . . to being human. I knew exactly what I wanted, but I was suddenly terrified of getting it. In theory, I was anxious, even eager to trade mortality for immortality. After all, it was the key to staying with Edward forever. And then there was the fact that I was being hunted by known and unknown parties. I’d rather not sit around, helpless and delicious, waiting for one of them to catch up with me. In theory, that all made sense. In practice . . . being human was all I knew. The future beyond that was a big, dark abyss that I couldn’t know until I leaped into it. This simple knowledge, today’s date — which was so obvious that I must have been subconsciously repressing it — made the deadline I’d been impatiently counting down toward feel like a date with the firing squad. In a vague way, I was aware of Edward holding the car door for me, of Alice chattering from the backseat, of the rain hammering against the windshield. Edward seemed to realize I was only there in body; he didn’t try to pull me out of my abstraction. Or maybe he did, and I was past noticing. We ended up at my house, where Edward led me to the sofa and pulled me down next to him. I stared out the window, into the liquid gray haze, and tried to find where my resolve had gone. Why was I panicking now? I’d known the deadline was coming. Why should it frighten me that it was here? I don’t know how long he let me stare out the window in silence. But the rain was disappearing into darkness when it was finally too much for him. He put his cold hands on either side of my face and fixed his golden eyes on mine. “Would you please tell me what you are thinking? Before I go mad?” What could I say to him? That I was a coward? I searched for words. “Your lips are white. Talk, Bella.” I exhaled in a big gust. How long had I been holding my breath? “The date took me off guard,” I whispered. “That’s all.”
He waited, his face full of worry and skepticism. I tried to explain. “I’m not sure what to do . . . what to tell Charlie . . . what to say . . . how to . . .” My voice trailed off. “This isn’t about the party?” I frowned. “No. But thanks for reminding me.” The rain was louder as he read my face. “You’re not ready,” he whispered. “I am,” I lied immediately, a reflex reaction. I could tell he saw through it, so I took a deep breath, and told the truth. “I have to be.” “You don’t have to be anything.” I could feel the panic surfacing in my eyes as I mouthed the reasons. “Victoria, Jane, Caius, whoever was in my room . . . !” “All the more reason to wait.” “That doesn’t make any sense, Edward!” He pressed his hands more tightly to my face and spoke with slow deliberation.
We’ve all struggled, trying to reconcile ourselves with something we had no control over. I won’t let it be that way for you. You will have a choice.” “I’ve already made my choice.” “You aren’t going through with this because a sword is hanging over your head. We will take care of the problems, and I will take care of you,” he vowed. “When we’re through it, and there is nothing forcing your hand, then you can decide to join me, if you still want to. But not because you’re afraid. You won’t be forced into this.” “Carlisle promised,” I mumbled, contrary out of habit. “After graduation.” “Not until you’re ready,” he said in a sure voice. “And definitely not while you feel threatened.” I didn’t answer. I didn’t have it in me to argue; I couldn’t seem to find my commitment at the moment. “There.” He kissed my forehead. “Nothing to worry about.” I laughed a shaky laugh. “Nothing but impending doom.” “Trust me.”
“I do.” He was still watching my face, waiting for me to relax. “Can I ask you something?” I said. “Anything.” I hesitated, biting my lip, and then asked a different question than the one I was worried about. “What am I getting Alice for graduation?” He snickered. “It looked like you were getting us both concert tickets —” “That’s right!” I was so relieved, I almost smiled. “The concert in Tacoma. I saw an ad in the paper last week, and I thought it would be something you’d like, since you said it was a good CD.” “It’s a great idea. Thank you.” “I hope it’s not sold out.” “It’s the thought that counts. I ought to know.” I sighed.
“There’s something else you meant to ask,” he said. I frowned. “You’re good.” “I have lots of practice reading your face. Ask me.” I closed my eyes and leaned into him, hiding my face against his chest. “You don’t want me to be a vampire.” “No, I don’t,” he said softly, and then he waited for more. “That’s not a question,” he prompted after a moment. “Well . . . I was worrying about . . . why you feel that way.” “Worrying?” He picked out the word with surprise. “Would you tell me why? The whole truth, not sparing my feelings?” He hesitated for a minute. “If I answer your question, will you then explain your question?” I nodded, my face still hidden. He took a deep breath before he answered. “You could do so much better, Bella. I know that you believe I have a soul, but I’m not entirely convinced on that point, and to risk yours . . .” He shook his head slowly. “For me to allow this — to let you become what I am just so that I’ll never have to lose you — is the most selfish act I can imagine. I want it more than anything, for myself. But for you, I want so much more. Giving in — it feels criminal. It’s the most selfish thing I’ll ever do, even if I live forever. “If there were any way for me to become human for you — no matter what the price was, I would pay it.” I sat very still, absorbing this. Edward thought he was being selfish. I felt the smile slowly spread across my face. “So . . . it’s not that you’re afraid you won’t . . . like me as much when I’m different — when I’m not soft and warm and I don’t smell the same? You really do want to keep me, no matter how I turn out?” He exhaled sharply. “You were worried I wouldn’t like you?” he demanded. Then, before I could answer, he was laughing. “Bella, for a fairly intuitive person, you can be so obtuse!” I knew he would think it silly, but I was relieved. If he really wanted me, I could get through the rest . . . somehow. Selfish suddenly seemed like a beautiful word. “I don’t think you realize how much easier it will be for me, Bella,” he said, the echo of his humor still there in his voice, “when I don’t have to concentrate all the time on not killing you. Certainly, there are things I’ll miss. This for one . . .” He stared into my eyes as he stroked my cheek, and I felt the blood rush up to color my skin. He laughed gently. “And the sound of your heart,” he continued, more serious but still smiling a little. “It’s the most significant sound in my world. I’m so attuned to it now, I swear I could pick it out from miles away. But neither of these things matter. This,” he said, taking my face in his hands. “You. That’s what I’m keeping. You’ll always be my Bella, you’ll just be a little more durable.” I sighed and let my eyes close in contentment, resting there in his hands. “Now will you answer a question for me? The whole truth, not sparing my feelings?” he asked. “Of course,” I answered at once, my eyes opening wide with surprise. What would he want to know? He spoke the words slowly. “You don’t want to be my wife.” My heart stopped, and then broke into a sprint. A cold sweat dewed on the back of my neck and my hands turned to ice.
He waited, watching and listening to my reaction. “That’s not a question,” I finally whispered. He looked down, his lashes casting long shadows across his cheekbones, and dropped his hands from my face to pick up my frozen left hand. He played with my fingers while he spoke. “I was worrying about why you felt that way.” I tried to swallow. “That’s not a question, either,” I whispered. “Please, Bella?” “The truth?” I asked, only mouthing the words. “Of course. I can take it, whatever it is.” I took a deep breath. “You’re going to laugh at me.” His eyes flashed up to mine, shocked. “Laugh? I cannot imagine that.” “You’ll see,” I muttered, and then I sighed. My face went from white to scarlet in a sudden blaze of chagrin. “Okay, fine! I’m sure this will sound like some big joke to you, but really! It’s just so . . . so . . . so embarrassing!” I confessed, and I hid my face against his chest again.
There was a brief pause. “I’m not following you.” I tilted my head back and glared at him, embarrassment making me lash out, belligerent. “I’m not that girl, Edward. The one who gets married right out of high school like some small-town hick who got knocked up by her boyfriend! Do you know what people would think? Do you realize what century this is? People don’t just get married at eighteen! Not smart people, not responsible, mature people! I wasn’t going to be that girl! That’s not who I am. . . .” I trailed off, losing steam. Edward’s face was impossible to read as he thought through my answer. “That’s all?” he finally asked. I blinked. “Isn’t that enough?” “It’s not that you were . . . more eager for immortality itself than for just me?” And then, though I’d predicted that he would laugh, I was suddenly the one having hysterics. “Edward!” I gasped out between the paroxysms of giggles. “And here . . . I always . . . thought that . . . you were . . . so much . . . smarter than me!”
He took me in his arms, and I could feel that he was laughing with me. “Edward,” I said, managing to speak more clearly with a little effort, “there’s no point to forever without you. I wouldn’t want one day without you.” “Well, that’s a relief,” he said. “Still . . . it doesn’t change anything.” “It’s nice to understand, though. And I do understand your perspective, Bella, truly I do. But I’d like it very much if you’d try to consider mine.” I’d sobered up by then, so I nodded and struggled to keep the frown off my face. His liquid gold eyes turned hypnotic as they held mine. “You see, Bella, I was always that boy. In my world, I was already a man. I wasn’t looking for love — no, I was far too eager to be a soldier for that; I thought of nothing but the idealized glory of the war that they were selling prospective draftees then — but if I had found . . .” He paused, cocking his head to the side. “I was going to say if I had found someone, but that won’t do. If I had found you, there isn’t a doubt in my mind how I would have proceeded. I was that boy, who would have — as soon as I discovered that you were what I was looking for — gotten down on one knee and endeavored to secure your hand. I would have wanted you for eternity, even when the word didn’t have quite the same He smiled his crooked smile at me. I stared at him with my eyes frozen wide. “Breathe, Bella,” he reminded me, smiling. I breathed. “Can you see my side, Bella, even a little bit?” And for one second, I could. I saw myself in a long skirt and a high-necked lace blouse with my hair piled up on my head. I saw Edward looking dashing in a light suit with a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand, sitting beside me on a porch swing. I shook my head and swallowed. I was just having Anne of Green Gables flashbacks. “The thing is, Edward,” I said in a shaky voice, avoiding the question, “in my mind, marriage and eternity are not mutually exclusive or mutually inclusive concepts. And since we’re living in my world for the moment, maybe we should go with the times, if you know what I mean.” “But on the other hand,” he countered, “you will soon be leaving time behind you altogether. So why should the transitory customs of one local culture affect the decision so much?”
I pursed my lips. “When in Rome?” He laughed at me. “You don’t have to say yes or no today, Bella. It’s good to understand both sides, though, don’t you think?” “So your condition . . . ?” “Is still in effect. I do see your point, Bella, but if you want me to change you myself. . . .” “Dum, dum, dah-dum,” I hummed under my breath. I was going for the wedding march, but it sort of sounded like a dirge. Time continued to move too fast. That night flew by dreamlessly, and then it was morning and graduation was staring me in the face. I had a pile of studying to do for my finals that I knew I wouldn’t get halfway through in the few days I had left. When I came down for breakfast, Charlie was already gone. He’d left the paper on the table, and that reminded me that I had some shopping to do. I hoped the ad for the concert was still running; I needed the phone number to get the stupid tickets. It didn’t seem like much of a gift now that all the surprise was gone. Of course, trying to surprise Alice wasn’t the brightest plan to begin with.
my attention. I felt a thrill of fear as I leaned closer to read the front-page story. SEATTLE TERRORIZED BY SLAYINGS It’s been less than a decade since the city of Seattle was the hunting ground for the most prolific serial killer in U.S. history. Gary Ridgway, the Green River Killer, was convicted of the murders of 48 women. And now a beleaguered Seattle must face the possibility that it could be harboring an even more horrifying monster at this very moment. The police are not calling the recent rash of homicides and disappearances the work of a serial killer. Not yet, at least. They are reluctant to believe so much carnage could be the work of one individual. This killer — if, in fact, it is one person — would then be responsible for 39 linked homicides and disappearances within the last three months alone. In comparison, Ridgway’s 48-count murder spree was scattered over a 21-year period. If these deaths can be linked to one man, then this is the most violent rampage of serial murder in American history. The police are leaning instead toward the theory that gang activity is involved. This theory is supported by the sheer number of victims, and by the fact that there seems to be no pattern in the choice of victims.
From Jack the Ripper to Ted Bundy, the targets of serial killings are usually connected by similarities in age, gender, race, or a combination of the three. The victims of this crime wave range in age from 15-year-old honor student Amanda Reed, to 67-year-old retired postman Omar Jenks. The linked deaths include a nearly even 18 women and 21 men. The victims are racially diverse: Caucasians, African Americans, Hispanics and Asians. The selection appears random. The motive seems to be killing for no other reason than to kill. So why even consider the idea of a serial killer? There are enough similarities in the modus operandi to rule out unrelated crimes. Every victim discovered has been burned to the extent that dental records were necessary for identification. The use of some kind of accelerant, like gasoline or alcohol, seems to be indicated in the conflagrations; however, no traces of any accelerant have yet been found. All of the bodies have been carelessly dumped with no attempt at concealment. More gruesome yet, most of the remains show evidence of brutal violence — bones crushed and snapped by some kind of tremendous pressure — which medical examiners believe occurred before the time of death, though these conclusions are difficult to be sure of, considering the state of the evidence. Another similarity that points to the possibility of a serial: every crime is perfectly clean of evidence, aside from the remains themselves. Not a fingerprint, not a tire tread mark nor a foreign hair is left behind. There have been no sightings of any suspect in the disappearances. Then there are the disappearances themselves — hardly low profile by any means. None of the victims are what could be viewed as easy targets. None are runaways or the homeless, who vanish so easily and are seldom reported missing. Victims have vanished from their homes, from a fourth-story apartment, from a health club, from a wedding reception. Perhaps the most astounding: 30-year-old amateur boxer Robert Walsh entered a movie theater with a date; a few minutes into the movie, the woman realized that he was not in his seat. His body was found only three hours later when fire fighters were called to the scene of a burning trash Dumpster, twenty miles away. Another pattern is present in the slayings: all of the victims disappeared at night. And the most alarming pattern? Acceleration. Six of the homicides were committed in the first month, 11 in the second. Twenty-two have occurred in the last 10 days alone. And the police are no closer to finding the responsible party than they were after the first charred body was discovered. The evidence is conflicting, the pieces horrifying. A vicious new gang or a wildly active serial killer? Or something else the police haven’t yet conceived of? Only one conclusion is indisputable: something hideous is stalking Seattle.
hands. “Bella?” Focused as I was, Edward’s voice, though quiet and not totally unexpected, made me gasp and whirl. He was leaning in the doorway, his eyebrows pulled together. Then he was suddenly at my side, taking my hand. “Did I startle you? I’m sorry. I did knock. . . .” “No, no,” I said quickly. “Have you seen this?” I pointed to the paper. A frown creased his forehead. “I hadn’t seen today’s news yet. But I knew it was getting worse. We’re going to have to do something . . . quickly.” I didn’t like that. I hated any of them taking chances, and whatever or whoever was in Seattle was truly beginning to frighten me. But the idea of the Volturi coming was just as scary. “What does Alice say?”
“That’s the problem.” His frown hardened. “She can’t see anything . . . though we’ve made up our minds half a dozen times to check it out. She’s starting to lose confidence. She feels like she’s missing too much these days, that something’s wrong. That maybe her vision is slipping away.” My eyes were wide. “Can that happen?” “Who knows? No one’s ever done a study . . . but I really doubt it. These things tend to intensify over time. Look at Aro and Jane.” “Then what’s wrong?” “Self-fulfilling prophecy, I think. We keep waiting for Alice to see something so we can go . . . and she doesn’t see anything because we won’t really go until she does. So she can’t see us there. Maybe we’ll have to do it blind.” I shuddered. “No.” “Did you have a strong desire to attend class today? We’re only a couple of days from finals; they won’t be giving us anything new.” “I think I can live without school for a day. What are we doing?” “I want to talk to Jasper.”
Jasper, again. It was strange. In the Cullen family, Jasper was always a little on the fringe, part of things but never the center of them. It was my unspoken assumption that he was only there for Alice. I had the sense that he would follow Alice anywhere, but that this lifestyle was not his first choice. The fact that he was less committed to it than the others was probably why he had more difficulty keeping it up. At any rate, I’d never seen Edward feel dependent on Jasper. I wondered again what he’d meant about Jasper’s expertise. I really didn’t know much about Jasper’s history, just that he had come from somewhere in the south before Alice found him. For some reason, Edward had always shied away from any questions about his newest brother. And I’d always been too intimidated by the tall, blond vampire who looked like a brooding movie star to ask him outright. When we got to the house, we found Carlisle, Esme, and Jasper watching the news intently, though the sound was so low that it was unintelligible to me. Alice was perched on the bottom step of the grand staircase, her face in her hands and her expression discouraged. As we walked in, Emmett ambled through the kitchen door, seeming perfectly at ease. Nothing ever bothered Emmett. “Hey, Edward. Ditching, Bella?” He grinned at me. “We both are,” Edward reminded him.
Emmett laughed. “Yes, but it’s her first time through high school. She might miss something.” Edward rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored his favorite brother. He tossed the paper to Carlisle. “Did you see that they’re considering a serial killer now?” he asked. Carlisle sighed. “They’ve had two specialists debating that possibility on CNN all morning.” “We can’t let this go on.” “Let’s go now,” Emmett said with sudden enthusiasm. “I’m dead bored.” A hiss echoed down the stairway from upstairs. “She’s such a pessimist,” Emmett muttered to himself. Edward agreed with Emmett. “We’ll have to go sometime.” Rosalie appeared at the top of the stairs and descended slowly. Her face was smooth, expressionless. Carlisle was shaking his head. “I’m concerned. We’ve never involved ourselves in this kind of thing before. It’s not our business. We aren’t the Volturi.” “I don’t want the Volturi to have to come here,” Edward said. “It gives us so much less reaction time.” “And all those innocent humans in Seattle,” Esme murmured. “It’s not right to let them die this way.” “I know,” Carlisle sighed. “Oh,” Edward said sharply, turning his head slightly to look at Jasper. “I didn’t think of that. I see. You’re right, that has to be it. Well, that changes everything.” I wasn’t the only one who stared at him in confusion, but I might have been the only one who didn’t look slightly annoyed. “I think you’d better explain to the others,” Edward said to Jasper. “What could be the purpose of this?” Edward started to pace, staring at the floor, lost in thought. I hadn’t seen her get up, but Alice was there beside me. “What is he rambling about?” she asked Jasper. “What are you thinking?” Jasper didn’t seem to enjoy the spotlight. He hesitated, reading every face in the circle — for everyone had moved in to hear what he would say — and then his eyes paused on my face.
“You’re confused,” he said to me, his deep voice very quiet. There was no question in his assumption. Jasper knew what I was feeling, what everyone was feeling. “We’re all confused,” Emmett grumbled. “You can afford the time to be patient,” Jasper told him. “Bella should understand this, too. She’s one of us now.” His words took me by surprise. As little as I’d had to do with Jasper, especially since my last birthday when he’d tried to kill me, I hadn’t realize that he thought of me that way. “How much do you know about me, Bella?” Jasper asked. Emmett sighed theatrically, and plopped down on the couch to wait with exaggerated impatience. “Not much,” I admitted. Jasper stared at Edward, who looked up to meet his gaze. “No,” Edward answered his thought. “I’m sure you can understand why I haven’t told her that story. But I suppose she needs to hear it now.”
Jasper nodded thoughtfully, and then started to roll up the arm of his ivory sweater. I watched, curious and confused, trying to figure out what he was doing. He held his wrist under the edge of the lampshade beside him, close to the light of the naked bulb, and traced his finger across a raised crescent mark on the pale skin. It took me a minute to understand why the shape looked strangely familiar. “Oh,” I breathed as realization hit. “Jasper, you have a scar exactly like mine.” I held out my hand, the silvery crescent more prominent against my cream skin than against his alabaster. Jasper smiled faintly. “I have a lot of scars like yours, Bella.” Jasper’s face was unreadable as he pushed the sleeve of his thin sweater higher up his arm. At first my eyes could not make sense of the texture that was layered thickly across the skin. Curved half-moons crisscrossed in a feathery pattern that was only visible, white on white as it was, because the bright glow of the lamp beside him threw the slightly raised design into relief, with shallow shadows outlining the shapes. And then I grasped that the pattern was made of individual crescents like the one on his wrist . . . the one on my hand. I looked back at my own small, solitary scar — and remembered how I’d received it. I stared at the shape of James’s teeth, embossed forever on my skin.
And then I gasped, staring up at him. “Jasper, what happened to you?” ===========================================================================
13. NEWBORN
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