Page 5

I shuddered. "What were you thinking?" I whispered. "He could have killed you!
Jake, you don't realize how dangerous—"
Another laugh interrupted me "Bella, one lone vampire isn't much of a problem
for a pack as big as ours. It was so easy, it was hardly even fun!"
"What was so easy?"
"Killing the bloodsucker who was going to kill you. Now, I don't count that
towards the whole murder thing," he added quickly. "Vampires don't count as
people."
I could only mouth the words. "You… killed… Laurent?"
He nodded. "Well, it was a group effort," he qualified.
"Laurent is dead?" I whispered.
His expression changed. "You're not upset about that, are you? He was going to
kill you—he was going for the kill, Bella, we were sure of that before we
attacked. You know that, right?"
"I know that. No, I'm not upset—I'm…" I had to sit down. I stumbled back a step
until I felt the driftwood against my calves, and then sank down onto it. "Laurent
is dead. He's not coming back for me."
"You're not mad? He wasn't one of your friends or anything, was he?"
"My friend?" I stared up at him, confused and dizzy with relief. I started
babbling, my eyes getting moist. "No, Jake. I'm so… so relieved. I thought he
was going to find me—I've been waiting for him every night, just hoping that
he'd stop with me and leave Charlie alone. I've been so frightened, Jacob… But
how? He was a vampire! How did you kill him? He was so strong, so hard, like
marble…"
He sat down next to me and put one big arm around me comfortingly. "It's what
we're made for, Bells. We're strong, too. I wish you would have told me that you
were so afraid. You didn't need to be."
"You weren't around," I mumbled, lost in thought.
"Oh, right."
"Wait, Jake—I thought you knew, though. Last night, you said it wasn't safe for
you to be in my room. I thought you knew that a vampire might be coming. Isn't
that what you were talking about?"
He looked confused for a minute, and then he ducked his head. "No, that's not
what I meant."
"Then why didn't you think it was safe for you there?"
He looked at me with guilt-ridden eyes. "I didn't say it wasn't safe for me. I was
thinking of you."
"What do you mean?"
He looked down and kicked a rock. "There's more than one reason I'm not
supposed to be around you, Bella. I wasn't supposed to tell you our secret, for one
thing, but the other part is that it's not safe for you. If I get too mad… too upset…
you might get hurt."
I thought about that carefully. "When you were mad before… when I was yelling
at you… and you were shaking… ?"
"Yeah." His face dropped even lower. "That was pretty stupid of me. I have to
keep a better hold on myself. I swore I wasn't going to get mad, no matter what
you said to me. But… I just got so upser that I was going to lose you… that you
couldn't deal with what I am…"
"What would happen… if you got too mad?" I whispered.
"I'd turn into a wolf," he whispered back.
"You don't need a full moon."
He rolled his eyes. "Hollywood's version doesn't get much right." Then he sighed,
and was serious again. "You don't need to be so stressed out, Bells. We're going
to take care of this. And we're keeping a special eye on Charlie and the others—
we won't let anything happen to him. Trust me on that."
Something very, very obvious, something I should have grasped at once—but I'd
been so distracted by the idea of Jacob and his friends fighting with Laurent, that
I'd completely missed it at the time—occurred to me only then, when Jacob used
the present tense again.
We're going to take care of this.
It wasn't over.
"Laurent is dead," I gasped, and my entire body went ice cold.
"Bella?" Jacob asked anxiously, touching my ashen cheek.
"If Laurent died… a week ago… then someone else is killing people now."
Jacob nodded; his teeth clenched together, and he spoke through them. "There
were two of them. We thought his mate would want to fight us—in our stories,
they usually get pretty pissed off if you kill their mate—but she just keeps
running away, and then coming back again. If we could figure out what she was
after, it would be easier to take her down. But she makes no sense. She keeps
dancing around the edges, like she's testing our defenses, looking for a way in—
but in where? Where does she want to go? Sam thinks she's trying to separate us,
so she'll have a better chance…"
His voice faded until it sounded like it was coming through a long tunnel; I
couldn't make out the individual words anymore. My forehead dewed with sweat
and my stomach rolled like I had the stomach flu again. Exactly like I had the flu.
I turned away from him quickly, and leaned over the tree trunk. My body
convulsed with useless heaves, my empty stomach contracting with horrified
nausea, though there was nothing in it to expel.
Victoria was here. Looking for me. Killing strangers in the woods. The woods
where Charlie was searching…
My head spun sickeningly.
Jacob's hands caught my shoulders—kept me from sliding forward onto the
rocks. I could feel his hot breath on my cheek. "Bella! What's wrong?"
"Victoria," I gasped as soon as I could catch my breath around the nauseous
spasms.
In my head, Edward snarled in fury at the name.
I felt Jacob pull me up from my slump. He draped me awkwardly across his lap,
laying my limp head against his shoulder. He struggled to balance me, to keep me
from sagging over, one way or the other He brushed the sweaty hair back from
my face.
"Who?" Jacob asked. "Can you hear me, Bella? Bella?"
"She wasn't Laurent's mate," I moaned into his shoulder. "They were just old
friends…"
"Do you need some water? A doctor? Tell me what to do," he demanded, frantic.
"I'm not sick—I'm scared," I explained in a whisper. The word scared didn't
really seem to cover it.
Jacob patted my back. "Scaled of this Victoria?" I nodded, shuddering. "Victoria
is the red-haired female?" I trembled again, and whimpered, "Yes."
"How do you know she wasn't his mate?"
"Laurent told me James was her mate," I explained, automatically flexing the
hand with the scar.
He pulled my face around, holding it steady in his big hand. He stared intently
into my eyes. "Did he tell you anything else, Bella? This is important. Do you
know what she wants?"
"Of course," I whispered. "She wants me." His eyes flipped wide, then narrowed
into slits. "Why?" he demanded.
"Edward killed James," I whispered. Jacob held me so tightly that there was no
need for me to clutch at the hole—he kept me in one piece. "She did get… pissed
off. But Laurent said she thought it was fairer to kill me than Edward. Mate for
mate. She didn't know—still doesn't know, I guess—that… that…" I swallowed
hard. "That things aren't like that with us anymore. Not for Edward, anyway."
Jacob was distracted by that, his face torn between several different expressions.
"Is that what happened? Why the Cullens left?"
"I'm nothing but a human, after all. Nothing special," I explained, shrugging
weakly.
Something like a growl—not a real growl, just a human approximation—rumbled
in Jacob's chest under my ear. "If that idiot bloodsucker is honestly stupid enough
—"
"Please," I moaned. "Please. Don't."
Jacob hesitated, then nodded once.
"This is important," he said again, his face all business now. "This is exactly what
we needed to know. We've got to tell the others right away."
He stood, pulling me to my feet. He kept two hands on my waist until he was sure
I wasn't going to fall.
"I'm okay," I lied.
He traded his hold on my waist for one of my hands. "Let's go."
He pulled me back toward the truck.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"I'm not sure yet," he admitted. "I'll call a meeting. Hey, wait here for just a
minute, okay?" He leaned me against the side of the truck and released my hand.
"Where are you going?"
"I'll be right back," he promised. Then he turned and sprinted through the parking
lot, across the road, and into the bordering forest. He flitted into the trees, swift
and sleek as a deer.
"Jacob!" I yelled after him hoarsely, but he was already gone.
It was not a good time to be left alone. Seconds after Jacob was out of sight, I
was hyperventilating. I dragged myself into the cab of the truck, and mashed the
locks down at once. It didn't make me feel any better.
Victoria was already hunting me. It was just luck that she hadn't found me yet—
just luck and five teenage werewolves. I exhaled sharply. No matter what Jacob
said, the thought of him coming anywhere close to Victoria was horrifying. I
didn't care what he could turn into when he got mad. I could see her in my head,
her face wild, her hair like flames, deadly, indestructible…
But, according to Jacob, Laurent was gone. Was that really possible? Edward—I
clutched automatically at my chest—had told me how difficult it was to kill a
vampire. Only another vampire could do the job. Yet Jake said this was what
werewolves were made for…
He said they were keeping a special eye on Charlie—that I should trust the
werewolves to keep my father safe. How could I trust that? None of us were safe!
Jacob the very least of all, if he was trying to put himself between Victoria and
Charlie… between Victoria and me.
I felt like I might be about to throw up again.
A sharp rap on the truck's window made me yelp in terror—but it was just Jacob,
back already. I unlocked the door with trembling, grateful fingers.
"You're really scared, aren't you?" he asked as he climbed in.
I nodded.
"Don't be. We'll take care of you—and Charlie, too. I promise."
"The idea of you finding Victoria is scarier than the idea of her finding me," I
whispered.
He laughed. "You've got to have a little more confidence in us than that. It's
insulting."
I just shook my head. I'd seen too many vampires in action.
"Where did you go just now?" I asked.
He pursed his lips, and said nothing.
"What? Is it a secret?"
He frowned. "Not really. It's kind of weird, though. I don't want to freak you out."
"I'm sort of used to weird by this point, you know." I tried to smile without much
success.
Jacob grinned back easily. "Guess you'd have to be. Okay. See, when we're
wolves, we can… hear each other."
My eyebrows pulled down in confusion.
"Not hear sounds," he went on, "but we can hear… thoughts—each other's
anyway—no matter how far away from each other we are. It really helps when
we hunt, but it's a big pain otherwise. It's embarrassing—having no secrets like
that. Freaky, eh?"
"Is that what you meant last night, when you said you would tell them you'd seen
me, even though you didn't want to?"
"You're quick."
"Thanks."
"You're also very good with weird. I thought that would bother you."
"It's not… well, you're not the first person I've known who could do that. So it
doesn't seem so weird to me."
"Really?… Wait—are you talking about your bloodsuckers?"
"I wish you wouldn't call them that."
He laughed. "Whatever. The Cullens, then?"
"Just… just Edward." I pulled one arm surreptitiously around my torso.
Jacob looked surprised—unpleasantly so. "I thought those were just stories. I've
heard legends about vampires who could do… extra stuff, but I thought that was
just a myth."
"Is anything just a myth anymore?" I asked him wryly.
He scowled. "Guess not. Okay, we're going to meet Sam and the others at the
place we go to ride our bikes."
I started the truck and headed back up the road.
"So did you just turn into a wolf now, to talk to Sam?" I asked, curious.
Jacob nodded, seeming embarrassed. "I kept it real short—I tried not to think
about you so they wouldn't know what was going on. I was afraid Sam would tell
me I couldn't bring you."
"That wouldn't have stopped me." I couldn't get rid of my perception of Sam as
the bad guy. My teeth clenched together whenever I heard his name.
"Well, it would have stopped me," Jacob said, morose now. "Remember how I
couldn't finish my sentences last night? How I couldn't just tell you the whole
story?"
"Yeah. You looked like you were choking on something."
He chuckled darkly. "Close enough. Sam told me I couldn't tell you. He's… the
head of the pack, you know. He's the Alpha. When he tells us to do something, or
not to do something—when he really means it, well, we can't just ignore him."
"Weird," I muttered.
"Very," he agreed. "It's kind of a wolf thing."
"Huh" was the best response I could think of.
"Yeah, there's a load of stuff like that—wolf things. I'm still learning. I can't
imagine what it was like for Sam, trying to deal with this alone. It sucks bad
enough to go through it with a whole pack for support."
"Sam was alone?"
"Yeah." Jacob's voice lowered. "When I… changed, it was the most… horrible,
the most terrifying thing I've ever been through—worse than anything I could
have imagined. But I wasn't alone—there were the voices there, in my head,
telling me what had happened and what I had to do. That kept me from losing my
mind, I think. But Sam…" He shook his head. "Sam had no help."
This was going to take some adjusting. When Jacob explained it like that, it was
hard not to feel compassion for Sam. I had to keep reminding myself that there
was no reason to hate him anymore.
"Will they be angry that I'm with you?" I asked.
He made a face. "Probably."
"Maybe I shouldn't—"
"No, it's okay," he assured me. "You know a ton of things that can help us. It's
not like you're just some ignorant human. You're like a… I don't know, spy or
something. You've been behind enemy lines."
I frowned to myself. Was that what Jacob would want from me? Insider
information to help them destroy their enemies? I wasn't a spy, though. I hadn't
been collecting that kind of information. Already, his words made me feel like a
traitor.
But I wanted him to stop Victoria, didn't I?
No.
I did want Victoria to be stopped, preferably before she tortured me to death or
ran into Charlie or killed another stranger. I just didn't want Jacob to be the one to
stop her, or rather to try. I didn't want Jacob within a hundred miles of her.
"Like the stuff about the mind-reading bloodsucker," he continued, oblivious to
my reverie. "That's the kind of thing we need to know about. That really sucks
that those stories are true. It makes everything more complicated. Hey, do you
think this Victoria can do anything special?"
"I don't think so," I hesitated, and then sighed. "He would have mentioned it."
"He? Oh, you mean Edward—oops, sorry. I forgot. You don't like to say his
name. Or hear it."
I squeezed my midsection, trying to ignore the throbbing around the edges of my
chest. "Not really, no."
"Sorry."
"How do you know me so well, Jacob? Sometimes it's like you can read my
mind."
"Naw. I just pay attention."
We were on the little dirt road where Jacob had first taught me to ride the
motorcycle.
"This good?" I asked.
"Sure, sure."
I pulled over and cut the engine.
"You're still pretty unhappy, aren't you?" he murmured.
I nodded, staring unseeingly into the gloomy forest.
"Did you ever think… that maybe… you're better off?"
I inhaled slowly, and then let my breath out. "No."
"'Cause he wasn't the best—"
"Please, Jacob," I interrupted, begging in a whisper. "Could we please not talk
about this? I can't stand it."
"Okay." He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I said anything."
"Don't feel bad. If things were different, it would be nice to finally be able to talk
to someone about it."
He nodded. "Yeah, I had a hard time keeping a secret from you for two weeks. It
must be hell to not be able to talk to anyone."
"Hell," I agreed.
Jacob sucked in a sharp breath. "They're here. Let's go."
"Are you sure?" I asked while he popped his door open. "Maybe I shouldn't be
here."
"They'll deal with it," he said, and then he grinned. "Who's afraid of the big, bad
wolf?"
"Ha ha," I said. But I got out of the truck, hurrying around the front end to stand
close beside Jacob. I remembered only too clearly the giant monsters in the
meadow. My hands were trembling like Jacob's had been before, but with fear
rather than rage.
Jake took my hand and squeezed it. "Here we go."
14. FAMILY
I COWERED INTO JACOB'S SIDE, MY EYES SCANNING the forest for the
other werewolves. When they appeared, striding out from between the trees, they
weren't what I was expecting. I'd gotten the image of the wolves stuck in my
head. These were just four really big half-naked boys.
Again, they reminded me of brothers, quadruplets. Something about the way they
moved almost in synchronization to stand across the road from us, the way they
all had the same long, round muscles under the same red-brown skin, the same
cropped black hair, and the way their expressions altered at exactly the same
moment.
They started out curious and cautious. When they saw me there, half-hidden
beside Jacob, they all became furious in the same second.
Sam was still the biggest, though Jacob was getting close to catching up with
him. Sam didn't really count as a boy. His face was older—not in the sense of
lines or signs of aging, but in the matunry, the patience of his expression.
"What have you done, Jacob?" he demanded.
One of the others, one I didn't recognize—Jared or Paul—thrust past Sam and
spoke before Jacob could defend himself.
"Why can't you just follow the rules, Jacob?" he yelled, throwing his arms in the
air. "What the hell are you thinking? Is she more important than everything—
than the whole tribe? Than the people getting killed?"
"She can help," Jacob said quietly.
"Help!" the angry boy shouted. His arms begin to quiver. "Oh, that's likely! I'm
sure the leech-lover is just dying to help us out!"
"Don't talk about her like that!" Jacob shouted back, stung by the boy's criticism.
A shudder rippled through the other boy, along his shoulders and down his spine.
"Paul! Relax!" Sam commanded.
Paul shook his head back and forth, not in defiance, but as though he were trying
to concentrate.
"Jeez, Paul," one of the other boys—probably Jared—muttered. "Get a grip."
Paul twisted his head toward Jared, his lips curling back in irritation. Then he
shifted his glare in my direction. Jacob took a step to put himself in front of me.
That did it.
"Right, protect her!" Paul roared in outrage. Another shudder, a convulsion,
heaved through his body. He threw his head back, a real growl tearing from
between his teeth.
"Paul!" Sam and Jacob shouted together.
Paul seemed to fall forward, vibrating violently. Halfway to the ground, there was
a loud ripping noise, and the boy exploded.
Dark silver fur blew out from the boy, coalescing into a shape more than fivetimes
his size—a massive, crouched shape, ready to spring.
The wolf's muzzle wrinkled back over his teeth, and another growl rolled through
his colossal chest. His dark, enraged eyes focused on me.
In the same second, Jacob was running across the road straight for the monster.
"Jacob!" I screamed.
Mid-stride, a long tremor shivered down Jacob's spine. He leaped forward, diving
headfirst into the empty air.
With another sharp tearing sound, Jacob exploded, too. He burst out of his skin—
shreds of black and white cloth blasted up into the air. It happened so quickly that
if I'd blinked, I'd have missed the entire transformation. One second it was Jacob
diving into the air, and then it was the gigantic, russet brown wolf—so enormous
that I couldn't make sense of its mass somehow fitting inside Jacob—charging the
crouched silver beast.
Jacob met the other werewolf's attack head-on. Their angry snarls echoed like
thunder off the trees.
The black and white scraps—the remains of Jacob's clothes—fluttered to the
ground where he'd disappeared.
"Jacob!" I screamed again, staggering forward.
"Stay where you are, Bella," Sam ordered. It was hard to hear him over the roar
of the fighting wolves. They were snapping and tearing at each other, their sharp
teeth flashing toward each other's throats. The Jacob-wolf seemed to have the
upper hand—he was visibly bigger than the other wolf, and it looked like le was
stronger, too. He rammed his shoulder against the gray wolf again and again,
knocking him back toward the trees.
"Take her to Emily's," Sam shouted toward the other boys, who were watching
the conflict with rapt expressions. Jacob had successfully shoved the gray wolf
off the road, and they were disappearing into the forest, though the sound of their
snarls was still loud. Sam ran after them, kicking off his shoes on the way. As he
darted into the trees, he was quivering from head to toe.
The growling and snapping was fading into the distance. Suddenly, the sound cut
off and it was very quiet on the road.
One of the boys started laughing.
I turned to stare at him—my wide eyes felt frozen, like I couldn't even blink them.
The boy seemed to be laughing at my expression. "Well, there's something you
don't see every day," he snickered. His face was vaguely familiar—thinner than
the others… Embry Call.
"I do," the other boy, Jared, grumbled. "Every single day."
"Aw, Paul doesn't lose his temper every day," Embry disagreed, still grinning.
"Maybe two out of three."
Jared stopped to pick something white up off the ground. He held it up toward
Embry; it dangled in limp strips from his hand.
"Totally shredded," Jared said. "Billy said this was the last pair he could afford—
guess Jacob's going barefoot now."
"This one survived," Embry said, holding up a white sneaker. "Jake can hop," he
added with a laugh.
Jared started collecting various pieces of fabric from the dirt. "Get Sam's shoes,
will you? All the rest of this is headed for the trash."
Embry grabbed the shoes and then jogged into the trees where Sam had
disappeared. He was back in a few seconds with a pair of cut-off jeans draped
over his arm. Jared gathered the torn remnants of Jacob's and Paul's clothes and
wadded them into a ball. Suddenly, he seemed to remember me.
He looked at me carefully, assessing.
"Hey, you're not going to faint or puke or anything?" he demanded.
"I don't think so," I gasped.
"You don't look so good. Maybe you should sit down."
"Okay," I mumbled. For the second time in one morning, I put my head between
my knees.
"Jake should have warned us," Embry complained.
"He shouldn't have brought his girlfriend into this. What did he expect?"
"Well, the wolf's out of the bag now." Embry sighed. "Way to go, Jake."
I raised my head to glare at the two boys who seemed to be taking this all so
lightly. "Aren't you worried about them at all?" I demanded.
Embry blinked once in surprise "Worried? Why?"
"They could hurt each other!"
Embry and Jared guffawed.
"I hope Paul gets a mouthful of him," Jared said. "Teach him a lesson."
I blanched.
"Yeah, right!" Embry disagreed. "Did you see Jake? Even Sam couldn't have
phased on the fly like that. He saw Paul losing it, and it took him, what, half a
second to attack? The boy's got a gift."
"Paul's been fighting longer. I'll bet you ten bucks he leaves a mark."
"You're on. Jake's a natural. Paul doesn't have a prayer."
They shook hands, grinning.
I tried to comfort myself with their lack of concern, but I couldn't drive the brutal
image of the fighting werewolves from my head. My stomach churned, sore and
empty, my head ached with worry.
"Let's go see Emily. You know she'll have food waiting." Embry looked down at
me. "Mind giving us a ride?"
"No problem," I choked.
Jared raised one eyebrow. "Maybe you'd better drive, Embry. She still looks like
she might hurl."
"Good idea. Where are the keys?" Embry asked me.
"Ignition."
Embry opened the passenger-side door. "In you go," he said cheerfully, hauling
me up from the ground with one hand and stuffing me into my seat. He appraised
the available space. "You'll have to ride in the back," he told Jared.
"That's fine. I got a weak stomach. I don't want to be in there when she blows."
"I bet she's tougher than that. She runs with vampires."
"Five bucks?" Jared asked.
"Done. I feel guilty, taking your money like this."
Embry got in and started the engine while Jared leapt agilely into the bed. As
soon as his door was closed, Embry muttered to me, "Don't throw up, okay? I've
only got a ten, and if Paul got his teeth into Jacob…"
"Okay," I whispered.
Embry drove us back toward the village.
"Hey, how did Jake get around the injunction anyway?"
"The… what?"
"Er, the order. You know, to not spill the beans. How did he tell you about this?"
"Oh, that," I said, remembering Jacob trying to choke out the truth to me last
night. "He didn't. I guessed right."
Embry pursed his lips, looking surprised. "Hmm. S'pose that would work."
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Emily's house. She's Sam's girlfriend… no, fiancee, now, I guess. They'll meet
us back there after Sam gives it to them for what just happened. And after Paul
and Jake scrounge up some new clothes, if Paul even has any left."
"Does Emily know about… ?"
"Yeah. And hey, don't stare at her. That bugs Sam."
I frowned at him. "Why would I stare?"
Embry looked uncomfortable. "Like you saw just now, hanging out around
werewolves has its risks." He changed the subject quickly. "Hey, are you okay
about the whole thing with the black-haired bloodsucker in the meadow? It didn't
look like he was a friend of yours, but. ." Embry shrugged.
"No, he wasn't my friend."
"That's good. We didn't want to start anything, break the treaty, you know."
"Oh, yeah, Jake told me about the treaty once, a long time ago. Why would
killing Laurent break the treaty?"
"Laurent," he repeated, snorting, like he was amused the vampire had had a
name. "Well, we were technically on Cullen turf. We're not allowed to attack any
of them, the Cullens, at least, off our land—unless they break the treaty first. We
didn't know if the black-haired one was a relative of theirs or something. Looked
like you knew him."
"How would they go about breaking the treaty?"
"If they bite a human. Jake wasn't so keen on the idea of letting it go that far."
"Oh. Um, thanks. I'm glad you didn't wait."
"Our pleasure." He sounded like he meant that in a literal sense.
Embry drove past the easternmost house on the highway before turning off onto a
narrow dirt road. "Your truck is slow," he noted.
"Sorry."
At the end of the lane was a tiny house that had once been gray. There was only
one narrow window beside the weathered blue door, but the window box under it
was filled with bright orange and yellow marigolds, giving the whole place a
cheerful look.
Embry opened the truck door and inhaled. "Mmm, Emily's cooking."
Jared jumped out of the back of the truck and headed for the door, but Embry
stopped him with one hand on his chest. He looked at me meaningfully, and
cleared his throat.
"I don't have my wallet on me," Jared said.
"That's okay. I won't forget."
They climbed up the one step and entered the house without knocking. I followed
timidly after them.
The front room, like Billy's house, was mostly kitchen. A young woman with
satiny copper skin and long, straight, crow-black hair was standing at the counter
by the sink, popping big muffins out of a tin and placing them on a paper plate.
For one second, I thought the reason Embry had told me not to stare was because
the girl was so beautiful.
And then she asked "You guys hungry?" in a melodic voice, and she turned to
face us full on, a smile on half of her face.
The right side of her face was scarred from hairline to chin by three thick, red
lines, livid in color though they were long healed. One line pulled down the
corner of her dark, almond-shaped right eye, another twisted the right side of her
mouth into a permanent grimace.
Thankful for Embry's warning, I quickly turned my eyes to the muffins in her
hands. They smelled wonderful—like fresh blueberries.
"Oh," Emily said, surprised. "Who's this?"
I looked up, trying to focus on the left half of her face.
"Bella Swan," Jared told her, shrugging. Apparently, I'd been a topic of
conversation before. "Who else?"
"Leave it to Jacob to find a way around," Emily murmured. She stared at me, and
neither half of her once-beautiful face was friendly. "So, you're the vampire girl."
I stiffened. "Yes. Are you the wolf girl?"
She laughed, as did Embry and Jared. The left half of her face warmed. "I guess I
am." She turned to Jared. "Where's Sam?"
"Bella, er, surprised Paul this morning."
Emily rolled her good eye. "Ah, Paul," she sighed. "Do you think they'll be long?
I was just about to start the eggs."
"Don't worry," Embry told her. "If they're late, we won't let anything go to waste."
Emily chuckled, and then opened the refrigerator. "No doubt," she agreed. "Bella,
are you hungry? Go ahead and help yourself to a muffin."
"Thanks." I took one from the plate and started nibbling around the edges. It was
delicious, and it felt good in my tender stomach. Embry picked up his third and
shoved it into his mouth whole.
"Save some for your brothers," Emily chastised him, hitting him on the head with
a wooden spoon. The word surprised me, but the others thought nothing of it.
"Pig," Jared commented.
I leaned against the counter and watched the three of them banter like a family.
Emily's kitchen was a friendly place, bright with white cupboards and pale
wooden floorboards. On the little round table, a cracked blue-and-white china
pitcher was overflowing with wildflowers. Embry and Jared seemed entirely at
ease here.
Emily was mixing a humongous batch of eggs, several dozen, in a big yellow
bowl. She had the sleeves of her lavender shirt pushed up, and I could see that the
scars extended all the way down her arm to the back of her right hand. Hanging
out with werewolves truly did have its risks, just as Embry had said.
The front door opened, and Sam stepped through.
"Emily," he said, and so much love saturated his voice that I felt embarrassed,
intrusive, as I watched him cross the room in one stride and take her face in his
wide hands. He leaned down and kissed the dark scars on her right cheek before
he kissed her lips.
"Hey, none of that," Jared complained. "I'm eating."
"Then shut up and eat," Sam suggested, kissing Emily's ruined mouth again.
"Ugh," Embry groaned.
This was worse than any romantic movie; this was so real that it sang out loud
with joy and life and true love. I put my muffin down and folded my arms across
my empty chest. I stared at the flowers, trying to ignore the utter peace of their
moment, and the wretched throbbing of my wounds.
I was grateful for the distraction when Jacob and Paul came through the door, and
then shocked when I saw that they were laughing. While I watched, Paul punched
Jacob on the shoulder and Jacob went for a kidney jab in return. They laughed
again. They both appeared to be in one piece.
Jacob scanned the room, his eyes stopping when he found me leaning, awkward
and out of place, against the counter in the far corner of the kitchen.
"Hey, Bells," he greeted me cheerfully. He grabbed two muffins as he passed the
table and came to stand beside me. "Sorry about before," he muttered under his
breath. "How are you holding up.'"
"Don't worry, I'm okay. Good muffins." I picked mine back up and started
nibbhrg again. My chest felt better as soon as Jacob was beside me.
"Oh, man!" Jared wailed, interrupting us.
I looked up, and he and Embry were examining a fading pink line on Paul's
forearm. Embry was grinning, exultant.
"Fifteen dollars," he crowed.
"Did you do that?" I whispered to Jacob, remembering the bet.
"I barely touched him. He'll be perfect by sundown."
"By sundown?" I looked at the line on Paul's arm. Odd, but it looked weeks old.
"Wolf thing," Jacob whispered.
I nodded, trying to not look weirded out.
"You okay?" I asked him under my breath.
"Not a scratch on me." His expression was smug.
"Hey, guys," Sam said in a loud voice, interrupting all the conversations going on
in the small room. Emily was at the stove, scraping the egg mixture around a big
skillet, but Sam still had one hand touching the small of her back, an unconscious
gesture. "Jacob has information for us."
Paul looked unsurprised. Jacob must have explained this to him and Sam already.
Or… they'd just heard his thoughts.
"I know what the redhead wants." Jacob directed his words toward Jared and
Embry. "That's what I was trying to tell you before." He kicked the leg of the
chair Paul had settled into.
"And?" Jared asked.
Jacob's face got serious. "She is trying to avenge her mate—only it wasn't the
black-haired leech we killed. The Cullens got her mate last year, and she's after
Bella now."
This wasn't news to me, but I still shivered.
Jared, Embry, and Emily stared at me with open-mouthed surprise.
"She's just a girl," Embry protested.
"I didn't say it made sense. But that's why the bloodsucker's been trying to get
past us. She's been heading for Forks."
They continued to stare at me, mouths still hanging open, for a long moment. I
ducked my head.
"Excellent," Jared finally said, a smile beginning to pull up the corners of his
mouth. "We've got bait."
With stunning speed, Jacob yanked a can opener from the counter and launched it
at Jared's head. Jared's hand flicked up faster than I would have thought possible,
and he snagged the tool just before it hit his face.
"Bella is not bait."
"You know what I mean," Jared said, unabashed.
"So we'll be changing oar patterns," Sam said, ignoring their squabble. "We'll try
leaving a few holes, and see if she falls for it. We'll have to split up, and I don't
like that. But if she's really after Bella, she probably won't try to take advantage
of our divided numbers."
"Quit's got to be close to joining us," Embry murmured. "Then we'll be able to
split evenly."
Everyone looked down. I glanced at Jacob's face, and it was hopeless, like it had
been yesterday afternoon, outside his house. No matter how comfortable they
seemed to be with their fate, here in this happy kitchen, none of these werewolves
wanted the same fate for their friend.
"Well, we won't count on that," Sam said in a low voice, and then continued at
his regular volume. "Paul, Jared, and Embry will take the outer perimeter, and
Jacob and I will take the inner. We'll collapse in when we've got her trapped."
I noticed that Emily didn't particularly like that Sam would be in the smaller
grouping. Her worry had me glancing up at Jacob, worrying, too.
Sam caught my eye. "Jacob thinks it would be best if you spent as much time as
possible here in La Push. She won't know where to find you so easily, just in
case."
"What about Charlie?" I demanded.
"March Madness is still going," Jacob said. "I think Billy and Harry can manage
to keep Charlie down here when he's not at work."
"Wait," Sam said, holding one hand up. His glance flickered to Emily and then
back to me. "That's what Jacob thinks is best, but you need to decide for yourself.
You should weigh the risks of both options very seriously. You saw this morning
how easily things can get dangerous here, how quickly they get out of hand. If
you choose to stay with us, I can't make any guarantees about your safety."
"I won't hurt her," Jacob mumbled, looking down.
Sam acted as if he hadn't heard him speak. "If there was somewhere else you felt
safe…"
I bit my lip. Where could I go that wouldn't put someone else in danger? I
recoiled again from the idea of bringing Renee into this—pulling her into the
circle of the target I wore… "I don't want to lead Victoria anywhere else," I
whispered.
Sam nodded. "That's true. It's better to have her here, where we can end this."
I flinched. I didn't want Jacob or any of the rest of them trying to end Victoria. I
glanced at Jake's face; it was relaxed, almost the same as I remembered it from
before the onset of the wolf thing, and utterly unconcerned by the idea of hunting
vampires.
"You'll be careful, right?" I asked, an audible lump in my throat.
The boys burst into loud hoots of amusement. Everyone laughed at me—except
Emily. She met my eyes, and I could suddenly see the symmetry underlying her
deformity. Her face was still beautiful, and alive with a concern even more fierce
than mine. I had to look away, before the love behind that concern could start me
aching again.
"Food's ready," she announced then, and the strategic conversation was history.
The guys hurried to surround the table—which looked tiny and in danger of being
crushed by them—and devoured the buffet-sized pan of eggs Emily placed in
their midst in record time. Emily ate leaning against the counter like me—
avoiding the bedlam at the table—and watched them with affectionate eyes. Her
expression clearly stated that this was her family.
All in all, it wasn't exactly what I'd been expecting from a pack of werewolves.
I spent the day in La Push, the majority of it in Billy's house. He left a message
on Charlie's phone and at the station, and Charlie showed up around dinnertime
with two pizzas. It was good he brought two larges; Jacob ate one all by himself.
I saw Charlie eyeing the two of us suspiciously all night, especially the muchchanged
Jacob. He asked about the hair; Jacob shrugged and told him it was just
more convenient.
I knew that as soon as Charlie and I were headed home, Jacob would take off—
off to run around as a wolf, as he had done intermittently through the entire day.
He and his brothers of sorts kept up a constant watch, looking for some sign of
Victoria's return. But since they'd chased her away from the hot springs last night
—chased her halfway to Canada, according to Jacob—she'd yet to make another
foray.
I had no hope at all that she might just give up. I didn't have that kind of luck.
Jacob walked me to my truck after dinner and lingered by the window, waiting
for Charlie to drive away first.
"Don't be afraid tonight," Jacob said, while Charlie pretended to be having
trouble with his seat belt. "We'll be out there, watching."
"I won't worry about myself," I promised.
"You're silly. Hunting vampires is fun. It's the best part of this whole mess."
I shook my head. "If I'm silly, then you're dangerously unbalanced."
He chuckled. "Get some rest, Bella, honey. You look exhausted."
"I'll try."
Charlie honked his horn impatiently.
"See you tomorrow," Jacob said. "Come down first thing."
"I will."
Charlie followed me home. I paid scant attention to the lights in my rearview
mirror. Instead, I wondered where Sam and Jared and Embry and Paul were, out
running in the night. I wondered if Jacob had joined them yet.
When we got home, I hurried for the stairs, but Charlie was right behind me.
"What's going on, Bella?" he demanded before I could escape. "I thought Jacob
was part of a gang and you two were fighting."
"We made up."
"And the gang?"
"I don't know—who can understand teenage boys? They're a mystery. But I met
Sam Uley and his fiancee, Emily. The seemed pretty nice to me." I shrugged.
"Must have all been a misunderstanding."
His face changed. "I hadn't heard that he and Emily had made it official. That's
nice. Poor girl."
"Do you know what happened to her?"
"Mauled by a bear, up north, during salmon spawning season—horrible accident
It was more than a year ago now. I heard Sam was really messed up over it."
"That's horrible," I echoed. More than a year ago. I'd bet that meant it had
happened when there was just one werewolf in La Push. I shuddered at the
thought of how Sam must have felt every time he looked at Emily's face.
That night, I lay awake for a long time trying to sort through the day. I worked
my way backward through dinner with Billy, Jacob, and C harlie, to the long
afternoon in the Blacks' house, waiting anxiously to hear something from Jacob,
to Emily's kitchen, to the horror of the werewolf fight, to talking with Jacob on
the beach.
I thought about what Jacob had said early this morning, about hypocrisy. I
thought about that for a long time. I didn't like to think that I was a hypocrite,
only what was the point of lying to myself?
I curled into a tight ball. No, Edward wasn't a killer. Even in his darker past, he'd
never been a murderer of innocents, at least.
But what if he had been? What if, during the time I that I'd known him, he'd been
just like any other vampire? What if people had been disappearing from the
woods, just like now? Would that have kept me away from him?
I shook my head sadly. Love is irrational, I reminded myself. The more you loved
someone, the less sense anything made.
I rolled over and tried to think of something else—and I thought of Jacob and his
brothers, out running in the darkness. I fell asleep imagining the wolves, invisible
in the night, guarding me from danger. When I dreamed, I stood in the forest
again, but I didn't wander. I was holding Emily's scarred hand as we faced into
the shadows and waited anxiously for our werewolves to come home.
15 PRESSURE
IT WAS SPRING BREAK IN FORKS AGAIN. WHEN I WOKE UP on Monday
morning, I lay in bed for a few seconds absorbing that. Last spring break, I'd been
hunted by a vampire, too. I hoped this wasn't some kind of tradition forming.
Already I was falling into the pattern of things in La Push. I'd spent Sunday
mostly on the beach, while Charlie hung out with Billy at the Blacks' house. I was
supposed to be with Jacob, but Jacob had other things to do, so I wandered alone,
keeping the secret from Charlie.
When Jacob dropped in to check on me, he apologized for ditching me so much.
He told me his schedule wasn't always this crazy, but until Victoria was stopped,
the wolves were on red alert.
When we walked along the beach now, he always held my hand.
This made me brood over what Jared had said, about Jacob involving his
"girlfriend." I supposed that that was exactly what it looked like from the outside.
As long as Jake and I knew how it really was, I shouldn't let those kinds of
assumptions bother me. And maybe they wouldn't, if I hadn't known that Jacob
would have loved for things to be what they appeared. But his hand felt nice as it
warmed mine, and I didn't protest.
I worked Tuesday afternoon—Jacob followed me on his bike to make sure I
arrived safely—and Mike noticed.
"Are you dating that kid from La Push? The sophomore?" He asked, poorly
disguising the resentment in his tone.
I shrugged. "Not in the technical sense of the word. I do spent most of my time
with Jacob, though. He's my best friend."
Mike's eyes narrowed shrewdly. "Don't kid yourself, Bella. The guy's head over
heels for you."
"I know," I sighed. "Life is complicated."
"And girls are cruel," Mike said under his breath.
I supposed that was an easy assumption to make, too.
That night, Sam and Emily joined Charlie and me for dessert at Billy's house.
Emily brought a cake that would have won over a harder man than Charlie. I
could see, as the conversation flowed naturally through a range of casual
subjects, that any worries Charlie might have harbored about gangs in La Push
were being dissolved.
Jake and I skipped out early, to get some privacy. We went out to his garage and
sat in the Rabbit. Jacob leaned his head back, his face drawn with exhaustion.
"You need some sleep, Jake."
"I'll get around to it."
He reached over and took my hand. His skin was blazing on mine.
"Is that one of those wolf things?" I asked him. "The heat, I mean."
"Yeah. We run a little warmer than the normal people. About one-oh-eight, oneoh-
nine. I never get cold anymore. I could stand like this"—he gestured to his
bare torso—"in a snowstorm and it wouldn't bother me. The flakes would turn to
rain where I stood."
"And you all heal fast—that's a wolf thing, too?"
"Yeah, wanna see? It's pretty cool." His eyes flipped open and he grinned. He
reached around me to the glove compartment and dug around for a minute. His
hand came out with a pocketknife.
"No, I do not want to see!" I shouted as soon as I realized what he was thinking.
"Put that away!"
Jacob chuckled, but shoved the knife back where it belonged. "Fine. It's a good
thing we heal, though. You can't go see just any doctor when you're running a
temperature that should mean you're dead."
"No, I guess not." I thought about that for a minute. "… And being so big—that's
part of it? Is that why you're all worried about Quil?"
"That and the fact that Quil's grandfather says the kid could fry an egg on his
forehead." Jacob's face turned hopeless. "It won't be long now. There's no exact
age… it just builds and builds and then suddenly—" He broke off, and it was a
moment before he could speak again. "Sometimes, if you get really upset or
something, that can trigger it early. But I wasn't upset about anything—I was
happy." He laughed bitterly. "Because of you, mostly. That's why it didn't happen
to me sooner. Instead it just kept on building up inside me—I was like a time
bomb. You know what set me off? I got back from that movie and Billy said I
looked weird. That was all, but I just snapped. And then I—I exploded. I almost
ripped his face off—my own father!" He shuddered, and his face paled.
"Is it really bad, Jake?" I asked anxiously, wishing I had some way to help him.
"Are you miserable?"
"No, I'm not miserable," he told me. "Not anymore. Not now that you know. That
was hard, before." He leaned over so that his cheek was resting on top of my head.
He was quiet for a moment, and I wondered what he was thinking about. Maybe I
didn't want to know.
"What's the hardest part?" I whispered, still wishing I could help.
"The hardest part is feeling… out of control," he said slowly. "Feeling like I can't
be sure of myself—like maybe you shouldn't be around me, like maybe nobody
should. Like I'm a monster who might hurt somebody. You've seen Emily. Sam
lost control of his temper for just one second… and she was standing too close.
And now there's nothing he can ever do to put it right again. I hear his thoughts—
I know what that feels like…
"Who wants to be a nightmare, a monster?
"And then, the way it comes so easily to me, the way I'm better at it than the rest
of them—does that make me even less human than Enbry or Sam? Sometimes
I'm afraid that I'm losing myself."
"Is it hard? To find yourself again?"
"At first," he said. "It takes some practice to phase back and forth. But it's easier
tor me."
"Why?" I wondered.
"Because Ephraim Black was my father's grandfather, and Quil Ateara was my
mother's grandfather."
"Quil?" I asked in confusion.
"His great-grandfather," Jacob clarified. "The Quil you know is my second
cousin."
"But why does it matter who your great-grandfathers are?"
"Because Ephraim and Quil were in the last pack. Levi Uley was the third. It's in
my blood on both sides. I never had a chance. Like Quil doesn't have a chance."
His expression was bleak.
"What's the very best part?" I asked, hoping to cheer him up.
"The best part," he said, suddenly smiling again, "is the speed."
"Better than the motorcycles?"
He nodded, enthusiastic. "There's no comparison."
"How fast can you… ?"
"Run?" he finished my question. "Fast enough. What can I measure it by? We
caught… what was his name? Laurent? I imagine that means more to you than it
would to someone else."
It did mean something to me. I couldn't imagine that—the wolves running faster
than a vampire. When the Cullens ran, they all but turned invisible with speed.
"So, tell me something I don't know," he said. "Something about vampires. How
did you stand it, being around them? Didn't it creep you out?"
"No," I said curtly.
My tone made him thoughtful for a moment.
"Say, why'd your bloodsucker kill that James, anyway?" he asked suddenly.
"James was trying to kill me—it was like a game for him. He lost. Do you
remember last spring when I was in the hospital down in Phoenix?"
Jacob sucked in a breath. "He got that close?"
"He got very, very close." I stroked my scar. Jacob noticed, because he held the
hand I moved.
"What's that?" He traded hands, examining my right. "This is your funny scar, the
cold one." He looked at it closer, with new eyes, and gasped.
"Yes, it's what you think it is," I said. "James bit me."
His eyes bulged, and his face turned a strange, sallow color under the russet
surface. He looked like he was about to be sick.
"But if he bit you… ? Shouldn't you be… ?" He choked.
"Edward saved me twice," I whispered. "He sucked the venom out—you know,
like with a rattlesnake." I twitched as the pain lashed around the edges of the hole.
But I wasn't the only one twitching. I could feel Jacob's whole body trembling
next to mine. Even the car shook.
"Careful, Jake. Easy. Ca in down."
"Yeah," he panted. "Calm." He shook his head back and forth quickly. After a
moment, only his hands were shaking.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, almost. Tell me something else. Give me something else to think about."
"What do you want to know?"
"I don't know." He had his eyes closed, concentrating. "The extra stuff I guess.
Did any of the other Cullens have… extra talents? Like the mind reading?"
I hesitated a second. This felt like a question he would ask of his spy, not his
friend. But what was the point of hiding what I knew? It didn't matter now, and it
would help him control himself.
So I spoke quickly, the image of Emily's ruined face in my mind, and the hair
rising on my arms. I couldn't imagine how the russet wolf would fit inside the
Rabbit—Jacob would tear the whole garage apart if he changed now.
"Jasper could… sort of control the emotions of the people around him. Not in a
bad way, just to calm someone down, that kind of thing. It would probably help
Paul a lot," I added, teasing weakly. "And then Alice could see things that were
going to happen. The future, you know, but not absolutely. The things she saw
would change when someone changed the path they were on…"
Like how she'd seen me dying… and she'd seen me becoming one of them. Two
things that had not happened. And one that never would. My head started to spin
—I couldn't seem to pull in enough oxygen from the air. No lungs.
Jacob was entirely in control now, very still beside me.
"Why do you do that?" he asked. He tugged lightly at one of my arms, which was
bound around my chest, and then gave up when it wouldn't come loose easily. I
hadn't even realized I'd moved them. "You do that when you're upset. Why?"
"It hurts to think about them," I whispered. "It's like I can't breathe… like I'm
breaking into pieces…"It was bizarre how much I could tell Jacob now. We had
no more secrets.
He smoothed my hair. "It's okay, Bella, it's okay. I won't bring it up again. I'm
sorry."
"I'm fine." I gasped. "Happens all the time. Not your fault."
"We're a pretty messed-up pair, aren't we?" Jacob said. "Neither one of us can
hold our shape together right."
"Pathetic," I agreed, still breathless.
"At least we have each other," he said, clearly comforted by the thought.
I was comforted, too. "At least there's that," I agreed.
And when we were together, it was fine. But Jacob had a horrible, dangerous job
he felt compelled to do, and so I was often alone, stuck in La Push for safety,
with nothing to do to keep my mind off any of my worries.
I felt awkward, always taking up space at Billy's. I did some studying for another
Calculus test that was coming up next week, but I could only look at math for so
long. When I didn't have something obvious to do in my hands,
I felt like I ought to be making conversation with Billy—the pressure of normal
societal rules. But Billy wasn't one for filling up the long silences, and so the
awkwardness continued.
I tried hanging out at Emily's place Wednesday afternoon, for a change. At first it
was kind of nice. Emily was a cheerful person who never sat still. I drifted behind
her while she flitted around her little house and yard, scrubbing at the spotless
floor, pulling a tiny weed, fixing a broken hinge, tugging a string of wool through
an ancient loom, and always cooking, too. She complained lightly about the
increase in the boys' appetites from all their extra running, but it was easy to see
she didn't mind taking care of them. It wasn't hard to be with her—after all, we
were both wolf girls now.
But Sam checked in after I'd been there for a few hours. I only stayed long
enough to ascertain that Jacob was fine and there was no news, and then I had to
escape. The aura of love and contentment that surrounded them was harder to
take in concentrated doses, with no one else around to dilute it.
So that left me wandering the beach, pacing the length of the rocky crescent back
and forth, again and again.
Alone time wasn't good for me. Thanks to the new honesty with Jacob, I'd been
talking and thinking about the Cullens way too much. No matter how I tried to
distract myself—and I had plenty to think of: I was honestly and desperately
worried about Jacob and his wolf-brothers, I was terrified for Charlie and the
others who thought they were hunting animals, I was getting in deeper and deeper
with Jacob without ever having consciously decided to progress in that direction
and I didn't know what to do about it—none of these very real, very deserving of
thought, very pressing concerns could take my mind off the pain in my chest for
long. Eventually, I couldn't even walk anymore, because I couldn't breathe. I sat
down on a patch of semidry rocks and curled up in a ball.
Jacob found me like that, and I could tell from his expression that he understood.
"Sorry," he said right away. He pulled me up from the ground and wrapped both
arms around my shoulders. I hadn't realized that I was cold until then. His
warmth made me shudder, but at least I could breathe with him there.
"I'm ruining your spring break," Jacob accused himself as we walked back up the
beach.
"No, you're not. I didn't have any plans. I don't think I like spring breaks,
anyway."
"I'll take tomorrow morning off. The others can run without me. We'll do
something fun."
The word seemed out of place in my life right now, barely comprehensible,
bizarre. "Fun?"
"Fun is exactly what you need. Hmm…" he gazed out across the heaving gray
waves, deliberating. As his eyes scanned the horizon, he had a flash of inspiration.
"Got it!" he crowed. "Another promise to keep."
"What are you talking about?"
He let go of my hand and pointed toward the southern edge of the beach, where
the flat, rocky half-moon dead-ended against the sheer sea cliffs. I stared,
uncomprehending.
"Didn't I promise to take you cliff diving?"
I shivered.
"Yeah, it'll be pretty cold—not as cold as it is today. Can you feel the weather
changing? The pressure? It will be warmer tomorrow. You up for it?"
The dark water did not look inviting, and, from this angle, the cliffs looked even
higher than before.
But it had been days since I'd heard Edward's voice. That was probably part of
the problem. I was addicted to the sound of my delusions. It made things worse if
I went too long without them. Jumping off a cliff was certain to remedy that
situation.
"Sure, I'm up for it. Fun."
"It's a date," he said, and draped his arm around my shoulders.
"Okay—now let's go get you some sleep." I didn't like the way the circles under
his eyes were beginning to look permanently etched onto his skin.
I woke early the next morning and snuck a change of clothes out to the truck. I
had a feeling that Charlie would approve of today's plan just about as much as he
would approve of the motorcycle.
The idea of a distraction from all my worries had me almost excited. Maybe it
would be fun. A date with Jacob, a date with Edward… I laughed darkly to
myself. Jake could say what he wanted about us being a messed-up pair—I was
the one who was truly messed up. I made the werewolf seem downright normal.
I expected Jacob to meet me out front, the way he usually did when my noisy
truck announced my arrival. When he didn't, I guessed that he might still be
sleeping. I would wait—let him get as much rest as he could. He needed his
sleep, and that would give the day time to warm a bit more. Jake had been right
about the weather, though; it had changed in the night. A thick layer of clouds
pressed heavily on the atmosphere now, making it almost sultry; it was warm and
close under the gray blanket. I left my sweater in the truck.
I knocked quietly on the door.
"C'mon in, Bella," Billy said.
He was at the kitchen table, eating cold cereal.
"Jake sleeping?"
"Er, no." He set his spoon down, and his eyebrows pulled together.
"What happened?" I demanded. I could tell from his expression that something
had.
"Embry, Jared, and Paul crossed a fresh trail early this morning. Sam and Jake
took off to help. Sam was hopeful—she's hedged herself in beside the mountains.
He thinks they have a good chance to finish this."
"Oh, no, Billy," I whispered. "Oh, no."
He chuckled, deep and low. "Do you really like La Push so well that you want to
extend your sentence here?"
"Don't make jokes, Billy. This is too scary for that."
"You're right," he agreed, still complacent. His ancient eyes were impossible to
read. "This one's tricky."
I bit my lip.
"It's not as dangerous for them as you think it is. Sam knows what he's doing.
You're the one that you should worry about. The vampire doesn't want to fight
them. She's just trying to find a way around them… to you."
"How does Sam know what he's doing?" I demanded, brushing aside his concern
for me. "They've only killed just the one vampire—that could have been luck."
"We take what we do very seriously, Bella. Nothing's been forgotten. Everything
they need to know has been passed down from father to son for generations."
That didn't comfort me the way he probably intended it to. The memory of
Victoria, wild, catlike, lethal, was too strong in my head. If she couldn't get
around the wolves, she would eventually try to go through them.
Billy went back to his breakfast; I sat down on the sofa and flipped aimlessly
though the TV channels. That didn't last long. I started to feel closed in by the
small room, claustrophobic, upset by the fact that I couldn't see out the curtained
windows.
"I'll be at the beach," I told Billy abruptly, and hurried out the door.
Being outside didn't help as much as I'd hoped. The clouds pushed down with an
invisible weight that kept the claustrophobia from easing. The forest seemed
strangely vacant as I walked toward the beach. I didn't see any animals—no birds,
no squirrels. I couldn't hear any birds, either. The silence was eerie; there wasn't
even the sound of wind in the trees.
I knew it was all just a product of the weather, but it still made me edgy. The
heavy, warm pressure of the atmosphere was perceptible even to my weak human
senses, and it hinted at something major in the storm department. A glance at the
sky backed this up; the clouds were churning sluggishly despite the lack of breeze
on the ground. The closest clouds were a smoky gray, but between the cracks I
could see another layer that was a gruesome purple color. The skies had a
ferocious plan in store for today. The animals must be bunkering down.
As soon as I reached the beach, I wished I hadn't come—I'd already had enough
of this place. I'd been here almost every day, wandering alone. Was it so much
different from my nightmares? But where else to go? I trudged down to the
driftwood tree, and sat at the end so that I could lean against the tangled roots. I
stared up at the angry sky broodingly, waiting for the first drops to break the
stillness.
I tried not to think about the danger Jacob and his friends were in. Because
nothing could happen to Jacob. The thought was unendurable. I'd lost too much
already—would fate take the last few shreds of peace left behind? That seemed
unfair, out of balance. But maybe I'd violated some unknown rule, crossed some
line that had condemned me. Maybe it was wrong to be so involved with myths
and legends, to turn my back on the human world. Maybe…
No. Nothing would happen to Jacob. I had to believe that or I wouldn't be able to
function.
"Argh!" I groaned, and jumped off the log. I couldn't sit still; it was worse than
pacing.
I'd really been counting on hearing Edward this morning. It seemed like that was
the one thing that might make it bearable to live through this day. The hole had
been festering lately, like it was getting revenge for the times that Jacob's
presence had tamed it. The edges burned.
The waves picked up as I paced, beginning to crash against the rocks, but there
was still no wind. I felt pinned down by the pressure of the storm. Everything
swirled around me, but it was perfectly still where I stood. The air had a faint
electric charge—I could feel the static in my hair.
Farther out, the waves were angrier than they were along the shore. I could see
them battering against the line of the cliffs, spraying big white clouds of sea foam
into the sky. There was still no movement in the air, though the clouds roiled
more quickly now. It was eerie looking—like the clouds were moving by their
own will. I shivered, though I knew it was just a trick of the pressure.
The cliffs were a black knife edge against the livid sky. Staring at them, I
remembered the day Jacob had told me about Sam and his "gang." I thought of
the boys—the werewolves—throwing themselves into the empty air. The image
of the falling, spiraling figures was still vivid in my mind. I imagined the utter
freedom of the fall… I imagined the way Edward's voice would have sounded in
my head—furious, velvet, perfect… The burning in my chest flared agonizingly.
There had to be some way to quench it. The pain was growing more and more
intolerable by the second. I glared at the cliffs and the crashing waves.
Well, why not? Why not quench it right now?
Jacob had promised me cliff diving, hadn't he? Just because he was unavailable,
should I have to give up the distraction I needed so badly—needed even worse
because Jacob was out risking his life? Risking it, in essence, for me. If it weren't
for me, Victoria would not be killing people here… just somewhere else, far
away. If anything happened to Jacob, it would be my fault. That realization
stabbed deep and had me jogging back up to the road toward Billy's house, where
my truck waited.
I knew my way to the lane that passed closest to the cliffs, but I had to hunt for
the little path that would take me out to the ledge. As I followed it, I looked for
turns or forks, knowing that Jake had planned to take me off the lower
outcropping rather than the top, but the path wound in a thin single line toward
the brink with no options. I didn't have time to find another way down—the storm
was moving in quickly now. The wind was finally beginning to touch me, the
clouds pressing closer to the ground. Just as I reached the place where the dirt
path fanned out into the stone precipice, the first drops broke through and
splattered on my face.
It was not hard to convince myself that I didn't have time to search for another
way—I wanted to jump from the top. This was the image that had lingered in my
head. I wanted the long fall that would feel like flying.
I knew that this was the stupidest, most reckless thing I had done yet. The thought
made me smile. The pain was already easing, as if my body knew that Edward's
voice was just seconds away…
The ocean sounded very far away, somehow farther than before, when I was on
the path in the trees. I grimaced when I thought of the probable temperature of
the water. But I wasn't going to let that stop me.
The wind blew stronger now, whipping the rain into eddies around me.
I stepped out to the edge, keeping my eyes on the empty space in front of me. My
toes felt ahead blindly, caressing the edge of the rock when they encountered it. I
drew in a deep breath and held it . . waiting.
"Bella."
I smiled and exhaled.
Yes? I didn't answer out loud, for fear that the sound of my voice would shatter
the beautiful illusion. He sounded so real, so close. It was only when lie was
disapproving like this that I could hear the true memory of his voice—the velvet
texture and the musical intonation that made up the most perfect of all voices.
"Don't do this," he pleaded.
You wanted me to be human, I reminded him. Well, watch me.
"Please. For me."
But you won't stay with me any other way.
"Please." It was just a whisper in the blowing rain that tossed my hair and
drenched my clothes—making me as wet as if this were my second jump of the
day.
I rolled up onto the balls of my feet.
"No, Bella!" He was angry now, and the anger was so lovely.
I smiled and raised my arms straight out, as if I were going to dive, lifting my
face into the rain. But it was too ingrained from years of swimming at the public
pool—feet first, first time. I leaned forward, crouching to get more spring…
And I flung myself off the cliff.
I screamed as I dropped through the open air like a meteor, but it was a scream of
exhilaration and not fear. The wind resisted, trying vainly to fight the
unconquerable gravity, pushing against me and twirling me in spirals like a
rocket crashing to the earth.
Yes! The word echoed through my head as I sliced through the surface of the
water. It was icy, colder than I'd feared, and yet the chill only added to the high.
I was proud of myself as I plunged deeper into the freezing black water. I hadn't
had one moment of terror—just pure adrenaline. Really, the fall wasn't scary at
all. Where was the challenge?
That was when the current caught me.
I'd been so preoccupied by the size of the cliffs, by the obvious danger of their
high, sheer faces, that I hadn't worried at all about the dark water waiting. I never
dreamed that the true menace was lurking far below me, under the heaving surf.
It felt like the waves were fighting over me, jerking me back and forth between
them as if determined to share by pulling me into halves. I knew the right way to
avoid a riptide: swim parallel to the beach rather than struggling for the shore.
But the knowledge did me little good when I didn't know which way the shore
was.
I couldn't even tell which way the surface was.
The angry water was black in every direction; there was no brightness to direct
me upward. Gravity was all-powerful when it competed with the air, but it had
nothing on the waves—I couldn't feel a downward pull, a sinking in any
direction. Just the battering of the current that flung me round and round like a
rag doll.
I fought to keep my breath in, to keep my lips locked around my last store of
oxygen.
It didn't surprise me that my delusion of Edward was there. He owed me that
much, considering that I was dying. I was surprised by how sure that knowledge
was. I was going to drown. I was drowning.
"Keep swimming!" Edward begged urgently in my head.
Where? There was nothing but the darkness. There was no place to swim to.
"Stop that!" he ordered. "Don't you dare give up!"
The cold of the water was numbing my arms and legs. I didn't feel the buffeting
so much as before. It was more of just a dizziness now, a helpless spinning in the
water.
But I listened to him. I forced my arms to continue reaching, my legs to kick
harder, though every second I was facing a new direction. It couldn't be doing
any good. What was the point?
"Fight!" he yelled. "Damn it, Bella, keep fighting."
Why?
I didn't want to fight anymore. And it wasn't the light-headedness, or the cold, or
the failure of my arms as the muscles gave out in exhaustion, that made me
content to stay where I was. I was almost happy that it was over. This was an
easier death than others I'd faced. Oddly peaceful.
I thought briefly of the clichés, about how you were suppose to see your life flash
before your eyes. I was so much luckier. Who wanted to see a rerun, anyway?
I saw him, and I had no will to fight. It was so clear, so much more defined than
any memory. My subconscious had stored Edward away in flawless detail, saving
him for this final moment. I could see his perfect face as if he were really there;
the exact shade of his icy skin, the shape of his lips, the line of his jaw, the gold
glinting in his furious eyes. He was angry, naturally, that I was giving up. His
teeth were clenched and his nostrils flared with rage.
"No! Bella, no!"
My ears were flooded with the freezing water, but his voice was clearer than
ever. I ignored his words and concentrated on the sound of his voice. Why would
I fight when I was so happy where I was? Even as my lungs burned for more air
and my legs cramped in the icy cold, I was content. I'd forgotten what real
happiness felt like.
Happiness. It made the whole dying thing pretty bearable.
The current won at that moment, shoving me abruptly against something hard, a
rock invisible in the gloom. It hit me solidly across the chest, slamming into me
like an iron bar, and the breath whooshed out of my lungs, escaping in a thick
cloud of silver bubbles. Water flooded down my throat, choking and burning. The
iron bar seemed to be dragging me, pulling me away from Edward, deeper into
the dark, to the ocean floor.
Goodbye, I love you, was my last thought.
16. PARIS
AT THAT MOMENT, MY HEAD BROKE THE SURFACE.
How disorienting. I'd been sure I was sinking.
The current wouldn't let up. It was slamming me against more rocks; they beat
against the center of my back sharply, rhythmically, pushing the water from my
lungs. It gushed out in amazing volume, absolute torrents pouring from my
mouth and nose. The salt burned and my lungs burned and my throat was too full
of water to catch a breath and the rocks were hurting my back. Somehow I stayed
in one place, though the waves still heaved around me. I couldn't see anything but
water everywhere, reaching for my face.
"Breathe!" a voice, wild with anxiety, ordered, and I felt a cruel stab of pain wher
I recognized the voice—because it wasn't Edward's.
I could not obey. The waterfall pouring from my mouth didn't stop long enough
for me to catch a breath. The black, icy water filled my chest, burning.
The rock smacked into my back again, right between my shoulder blades, and
another volley of water choked its way out of my lungs.
"Breathe, Bella! C'mon!" Jacob begged.
Black spots bloomed across my vision, getting wider and wider, blocking out the
light.
The rock struck me again.
The rock wasn't cold like the water; it was hot on my skin. I realized it was
Jacob's hand, trying to beat the water from my lungs. The iron bar that had
dragged me from the sea was also… warm… My head whirled, the black spots
covered everything…
Was I dying again, then? I didn't like it—this wasn't as good as the last time. It
was only dark now, nothing worth looking at here. The sound of the crashing
waves faded into the black and became a quiet, even whoosh that sounded like it
was coming from the inside of my ears…
"Bella?" Jacob asked, his voice still tense, but not as wild as before. "Bells,
honey, can you hear me?"
The contents of my head swished and rolled sickeningly, like they'd joined the
rough water…
"How long has she been unconscious?" someone else asked.
The voice that was not Jacob's shocked me, jarred me into a more focused
awareness.
I realized that I was still. There was no tug of the current on me—the heaving
was inside my head. The surface under me was flat and motionless. It felt grainy
against my bare arms.
"I don't know," Jacob reported, still frantic. His voice was very close. Hands—so
warm they had to be his—brushed wet hair from my cheeks. "A few minutes? It
didn't take long to tow her to the beach."
The quiet whooshing inside my ears was not the waves—it was the air moving in
and out of my lungs again. Each breath burned—the passageways were as raw as
if I'd scrubbed them out with steel wool. But I was breathing.
And I was freezing. A thousand sharp, icy beads were striking my face and arms,
making the cold worse.
"She's breathing. She'll come around. We should get her out of the cold, though. I
don't like the color she's turning…" I recognized Sam's voice this time.
"You think it's okay to move her?"
"She didn't hurt her back or anything when she fell?"
"I don't know."
They hesitated.
I tried to open my eyes. It took me a minute, but then I could see the dark, purple
clouds, flinging the freezing rain down at me. "Jake?" I croaked.
Jacob's face blocked out the sky. "Oh!" he gasped, relief washing over his
features. His eyes were wet from the rain. "Oh, Bella! Are you okay? Can you
hear me? Do you hurt anywhere?"
"J-Just m-my throat," I stuttered, my lips quivering from the cold.
"Let's get you out of here, then," Jacob said. He slid his arms under me and lifted
me without effort—like picking up an empty box. His chest was bare and warm;
he hunched his shoulders to keep the rain off of me. My head lolled over his arm.
I stared vacantly back toward the furious water, beating the sand behind him.
"You got her?" I heard Sam ask.
"Yeah, I'll take it from here. Get back to the hospital. I'll join you later. Thanks,
Sam."
My head was still rolling. None of his words sunk in at first. Sam didn't answer.
There was no sound, and I wondered if he were already gone.
The water licked and writhed up the sand after us as Jacob carried me away, like
it was angry that I'd escaped. As I stared wearily, a spark of color caught my
unfocused eyes—a small flash of fire was dancing on the black water, far out in
the bay. The image made no sense, and I wondered how conscious I really was.
My head swirled with the memory of the black, churning water—of being so lost
that I couldn't find up or down. So lost… but somehow Jacob…
"How did you find me?" I rasped.
"I was searching for you," he told me. He was half-jogging through the rain, up
the beach toward the road. "I followed the tire tracks to your truck, and then I
heard you scream…" He shuddered. "Why would you jump, Bella? Didn't you
notice that it's turning into a hurricane out here? Couldn't you have waited for
me?" Anger filled his tone as the relief faded.
"Sorry," I muttered. "It was stupid."
"Yeah, it was really stupid," he agreed, drops of rain shaking free of his hair as he
nodded. "Look, do you mind saving the stupid stuff for when I'm around? I won't
be able to concentrate if I think you're jumping off cliffs behind my back."
"Sure," I agreed. "No problem." I sounded like a chain-smoker. I tried to clear my
throat—and then winced; the throat-clearing felt like stabbing a knife down there.
"What happened today? Did you… find her?" It was my turn to shudder, though I
wasn't so cold here, right next to his ridiculous body heat.
Jacob shook his head. He was still more running than walking as he headed up
the road to his house. "No. She took off into the water—the bloodsuckers have
the advantage there. That's why I raced home—I was afraid she was going to
double back swimming. You spend so much time on the beach…" He trailed off,
a catch in his throat.
"Sam came back with you… is everyone else home, too?" I hoped they weren't
still out searching for her.
"Yeah. Sort of."
I tried to read his expression, squinting into the hammering rain. His eyes were
tight with worry or pain.
The words that hadn't made sense before suddenly did. "You said… hospital.
Before, to Sam. Is someone hurt? Did she fight you?" My voice jumped up an
octave, sounding strange with the hoarseness.
"No, no. When we got back, Em was waiting with the news. It's Harry
Clearwater. Harry had a heart attack this morning."
"Harry?" I shook my head, trying to absorb what he was staying. "Oh, no! Does
Charlie know?"
"Yeah. He's over there, too, with my dad."
"Is Harry going to be okay?"
Jacob's eyes tightened again. "It doesn't look so great right now."
Abruptly, I felt really sick with guilt—felt truly horrible about the brainless cliff
dive. Nobody needed to be worrying about me right now. What a stupid time to
be reckless.
"What can I do?" I asked.
At that moment the rain stopped. I hadn't realized we were already back to
Jacob's house until he walked through the door. The storm pounded against the
roof.
"You can stay here," Jacob said as he dumped me on the short couch. "I mean it—
right here I'll get you some dry clothes."
I let my eyes adjust to the dark room while Jacob banged around in his bedroom.
The cramped front room seemed so empty without Billy, almost desolate. It was
strangely ominous—probably just because I knew where he was.
Jacob was back in seconds. He threw a pile of gray cotton at me. "These will be
huge on you, but it's the best I've got. I'll, er, step outside so you can change."
"Don't go anywhere. I'm too tired to move yet. Just stay with me."
Jacob sat on the floor next to me, his back against the couch. I wondered when
he'd slept last. He looked as exhausted as I felt.
He leaned his head on the cushion next to mine and yawned. "Guess I could rest
for a minute…"
His eyes closed. I let mine slide shut, too.
Poor Harry. Poor Sue. I knew Charlie was going to be beside himself. Harry was
one of his best friends. Despite Jake's negative take on things, I hoped fervently
that Harry would pull through. For Charlie's sake. For Sue's and Leah's and
Seth's…
Billy's sofa was right next to the radiator, and I was warm now, despite my
soaked clothes. My lungs ached in a way that pushed me toward unconsciousness
rather than keeping me awake. I wondered vaguely if it was wrong to sleep… or
was I getting drowning mixed up with concussions… ? Jacob began softly
snoring, and the sound of it soothed like a lullaby. I fell asleep quickly.
For the first time in a very long time, my dream was just a normal dream. Just a
blurred wandering through old memories—blinding bright visions of the Phoenix
sun, my mother's face, a ramshackle tree house, a faded quilt, a wall of mirrors, a
flame on the black water… I forgot each of them as soon as the picture changed.
The last picture was the only one that stuck in my head. It was meaningless—just
a set on a stage. A balcony at night, a painted moon hanging in the sky. I watched
the girl in her nightdress lean on the railing and talk to herself.
Meaningless… but when I slowly struggled back to consciousness, Juliet was on
my mind.
Jacob was still asleep; he'd slumped down to the floor and his breathing was deep
and even. The house was darker now than before, it was black outside the
window. I was stiff, but warm and almost dry. The inside of my throat burned
with every breath I took.
I was going to have to get up—at least to get a drink. But my body just wanted tc
he here limp, to never move again.
Instead of moving, I thought about Juliet some more.
I wondered what she would have done if Romeo had left her, not because he was
banished, but because he lost interests What if Rosalind had given him the time
of day, and he'd changed his mind? What if, instead of marrying Juliet, he'd just
disappeared?
I thought I knew how Juliet would feel.
She wouldn't go back to her old life, not really. She wouldn't ever have moved
on, I was sure of that. Even if she'd lived until she was old and gray, every time
she closed her eyes, it would have been Romeo's face she saw behind her lids.
She would have accepted that, eventually.
I wondered if she would have married Paris in the end, just to please her parents,
to keep the peace. No, probably not, I decided. But then, the story didn't say
much about Paris. He was just a stick figure—a placeholder, a threat, a deadline
to force her hand.
What if there were more to Paris?
What if Paris had been Juliet's friend? Her very best friend? What if he was the
only one she could confide in about the whole devastating thing with Romeo?
The one person who really understood her and made her feel halfway human
again? What if he was patient and kind? What if he took care of her? What if
Juliet knew she couldn't survive without him? What if he really loved her, and
wanted her to be happy?
And… what if she loved Paris? Not like Romeo. Nothing like that, of course. But
enough that she wanted him to be happy, too?
Jacob's slow, deep breathing was the only sound in the room—like a lullaby
hummed to a child, like the whisper of a rocking chair, like the ticking of an old
clock when you had nowhere you needed to go…It was the sound of comfort.
If Romeo was really gone, never coming back, would it have mattered whether or
not Juliet had taken Paris up on his offer? Maybe she should have tried to settle
into the leftover scraps of life that were left behind. Maybe that would have been
as close to happiness as she could get.
I sighed, and then groaned when the sigh scraped my throat. I was reading too
much into the story. Romeo wouldn't change his mind. That's why people still
remembered his name, always twined with hers: Romeo and Juliet. That's why it
was a good story. "Juliet gets dumped and ends up with Paris" would have never
been a hit.
I closed my eyes and drifted again, letting my mind wander away from the stupid
play I didn't want to think about anymore. I thought about reality instead—about
jumping off the cliff and what a brainless mistake that had been. And not just the
cliff, but the motorcycles and the whole irresponsible Evel Knievel bit. What if
something bad happened to me? What would that do to Charlie? Harry's heart
attack had pushed everything suddenly into perspective for me. Perspective that I
didn't want to see, because—if I admitted to the truth of it—it would mean that I
would have to change my ways. Could I live like that?
Maybe. It wouldn't be easy; in fact, it would be downright miserable to give up
my hallucinations and try to be a grown-up. But maybe I should do it. And maybe
I could. If I had Jacob.
I couldn't make that decision right now. It hurt too much. I'd think about
something else.
Images from my ill-considered afternoon stunt rolled through my head while I
tried to come up with something pleasant to think about… the feel of the air as I
fell, the blackness of the water, the thrashing of the current… Edward's face… I
lingered there for a long time. Jacob's warm hands, trying to beat life back into
me… the stinging rain flung down by the purple clouds… the strange fire on the
waves…
There was something familiar about that flash of color on top of the water. Of
course it couldn't really be fire—
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car squelching through the mud
on the road outside. I heard it stop in front of the house, and doors started
opening and closing. I thought about sitting up, and then decided against that idea.
Billy's voice was easily identifiable, but he kept it uncharacteristically low, so
that it was only a gravelly grumble.
The door opened, and the light flicked on. I blinked, momentarily blind. Jake
startled awake, gasping and jumping to his feet.
"Sorry," Billy grunted. "Did we wake you?"
My eyes slowly focused on his face, and then, as I could read his expression, they
filled with tears.
"Oh, no, Billy!" I moaned.
He nodded slowly, his expression hard with grief. Jake hurried to his father and
took one of his hands. The pain made his face suddenly childlike—it looked odd
on top of the man's body.
Sam was right behind Billy, pushing his chair through the door. His normal
composure was absent from his agonized face.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered.
Billy nodded. "It's gonna be hard all around."
"Where's Charlie?"
"Your dad is still at the hospital with Sue. There are a lot of… arrangements to be
made."
I swallowed hard.
"I'd better get back there," Sam mumbled, and he ducked hastily out the door.
Billy pulled his hand away from Jacob, and then he rolled himself through the
kitchen toward his room.
Jake stared after him for a minute, then came to sit on the floor beside me again.
He put his face in his hands. I rubbed his shoulder, wishing I could think of
anything to say.
After a long moment, Jacob caught my hand and held it to his face.
"How are you feeling? Are you okay? I probably should have taken you to a
doctor or something." He sighed.
"Don't worry about me," I croaked.
He twisted his head to look at me. His eyes were rimmed in red. "You don't look
so good."
"I don't feel so good, either, I guess."
"I'll go get your truck and then take you home—you probably ought to be there
when Charlie gets back."
"Right."
I lay listlessly on the sofa while I waited for him. Billy was silent in the other
room. I felt like a peeping torn, peering through the cracks at a private sorrow
that wasn't mine.
It didn't take Jake long. The roar of my truck's engine broke the silence before I
expected it. He helped me up from the couch without speaking, keeping his arm
around my shoulder when the cold air outside made me shiver. He took the
driver's seat without asking, and then pulled me next to his side to keep his arm
tight around me. I leaned my head against his chest.
"How will you get home?" I asked.
"I'm not going home. We still haven't caught the bloodsucker, remember?"
My next shudder had nothing to do with cold.
It was a quiet ride after that. The cold air had woken me up. My mind was alert,
and it was working very hard and very fast.
What if? What was the right thing to do?
I couldn't imagine my life without Jacob now—I cringed away from the idea of
even trying to imagine that. Somehow, he'd become essential to my survival. But
to leave things the way they were… was that cruel, as Mike had accused?
I remembered wishing that Jacob were my brother. I realized now that all I really
wanted was a claim on him. It didn't feel brotherly when he held me like this. It
just felt nice—warm and comforting and familiar. Safe. Jacob was a safe harbor.
I could stake a claim. I had that much within my power.
I'd have to tell him everything, I knew that. It was the only way to be fair. I'd
have to explain it right, so that he'd know I wasn't settling, that he was much too
good for me. He already knew I was broken, that part wouldn't surprise him, but
he'd need to know the extent of it. I'd even have to admit that I was crazy—
explain about the voices I heard. He'd need to know everything before he made a
decision.
But, even as I recognized that necessity, I knew he would take me in spite of it
all. He wouldn't even pause to think it through.
I would have to commit to this—commit as much of me as there was left, every
one of the broken pieces. It was the only way to be fair to him. Would I? Could I?
Would it be so wrong to try to make Jacob happy? Even if the love I felt for him
was no more than a weak echo of what I was capable of, even if my heart was far
away, wandering and grieving after my fickle Romeo, would it be so very wrong?
Jacob stopped the truck in front of my dark house, cutting the engine so it was
suddenly silent. Like so many other times, he seemed to be in tune with my
thoughts now.
He threw his other arm around me, crushing me against his cheat, binding me to
him. Again, this felt nice. Almost like being a whole person again.
I thought he would be thinking of Harry, but then he spoke, and his tone was
apologetic. "Sorry. I know you don't feel exactly the way I do, Bella. I swear I
don't mind. I'm just so glad you're okay that I could sing—and that's something
no one wants to hear." He laughed his throaty laugh in my ear.
My breathing kicked up a notch, sanding the walls of my throat.
Wouldn't Edward, indifferent as he might be, want me to be as happy as possible
under the circumstances? Wouldn't enough friendly emotion linger for him to
want that much for me? I thought he would. He wouldn't begrudge me this:
giving just a small bit of love he didn't want to my friend Jacob. After all, it
wasn't the same love at all.
Jake pressed his warm cheek against the top of my hair.
If I turned my face to the side—if I pressed my lips against his bare shoulder... I
knew without any doubt what would follow. It would be very easy. There would
be no need for explanations tonight.
But could I do it? Could I betray my absent heart to save my pathetic life?
Butterflies assaulted my stomach as I thought of turning my head.
And then, as clearly as if I were in immediate danger, Edward's velvet voice
whispered in my ear.
"Be happy," he told me.
I froze.
Jacob felt me stiffen and released me automatically, reaching for the door.
Wait, I wanted to say. Just a minute. But I was still locked in place, listening to
the echo of Edward's voice in my head.
Storm-cooled air blew through the cab of the truck.
"OH!" The breath whooshed out of Jacob like someone had punched him in the
gut. "Holy crap!"
He slammed the door and twisted the keys in the ignition at the same moment.
His hands were shaking so hard I didn't know how he managed it.
"What's wrong?"
He revved the engine too fast; it sputtered and faltered.
"Vampire," he spit out.
The blood rushed from my head and left me dizzy. "How do you know?"
"Because I can smell it. Dammit!"
Jacob's eyes were wild, raking the dark street. He barely seemed aware of the
tremors that were rolling through his body. "Phase or get her out of here?" he
hissed at himself.
He looked down at me for a split second, taking in my horror-struck eyes and
white face, and then he was scanning the street again. "Right. Get you out."
The engine caught with a roar. The tires squealed as he spun the truck around,
turning toward our only escape. The headlights washed across the pavement, lit
the front line of the black forest, and finally glinted off a car parked across the
street from my house.
"Stop!" I gasped.
It was a black car—a car I knew. I might be the furthest thing from an autophile,
but I could tell you everything about that particular car. It was a Mercedes S55
AMG. I knew the horsepower and the color of the interior. I knew the feel of the
powerful engine purring through the frame. I knew the rich smell of the leather
seats and the way the extra-dark tint made noon look like dusk through those
windows.
It was Carlisle's car.
"Stop!" I cried again, louder this time, because Jacob was gunning the truck down
the street.
"What?!"
"It's not Victoria. Stop, stop! I want to go back."
He stomped on the brake so hard I had to catch myself against the dashboard.
"What?" he asked again, aghast. He stared at me with horror in his eyes.
"It's Carlisle's car! It's the Cullens. I know it."
He watched dawn break across my face, and a violent tremor rocked his frame.
"Hey, calm down, Jake. It's okay. No danger, see? Relax."
"Yeah, calm," he panted, putting his head down and closing his eyes. While he
concentrated on not exploding into a wolf, I stared out the back window at the
black car.
It was just Carlisle, I told myself. Don't expect anything more. Maybe Esme…
Stop right there, I told myself. Just Carlisle. That was plenty. More than I'd ever
hoped to have again.
"There's a vampire in your house," Jacob hissed. "And you want to go back?"
I glanced at him, ripping my unwilling eyes off the Mercedes—terrified that it
would disappear the second I looked away.
"Of course," I said, my voice blank with surprise at his question. Of course I
wanted to go back.
Jacob's face hardened while I stared at him, congealing into the bitter mask that
I'd thought was gone for good. Just before he had the mask in place, I caught the
spasm of betrayal that flashed in his eyes. His hands were still shaking. He
looked ten years older than me.
He took a deep breath. "You're sure it's not a trick?" he asked in a slow, heavy
voice.
"It's not a trick. It's Carlisle. Take me back!"
A shudder rippled through his wide shoulders, but his eyes were flat and
emotionless. "No."
"Jake, it's okay—"
"No. Take yourself back, Bella." His voice was a slap—I flinched as the sound of
it struck me. His jaw clenched and unclenched.
"Look, Bella," he said in the same hard voice. "I can't go back. Treaty or no
treaty, that's my enemy in there."
"It's not like that—"
"I have to tell Sam right away. This changes things. We can't be caught on their
territory."
"Jake, it's not a war!"
He didn't listen. He put the truck in neutral and jumped out the door, leaving it
running.
"Bye, Bella," he called back over his shoulder. "I really hope you don't die." He
sprinted into the darkness, shaking so hard that his shape seemed blurred; he
disappeared before I could open my mouth to call him back.
Remorse pinned me against the seat for one long second. What had I just done to
Jacob'?
But remorse couldn't hold me very long.
I slid across the seat and put the truck back in drive. My hands were shaking
almost as hard as Jake's had been, and this took a minute of concentration. Then I
carefully turned the truck around and drove it back to my house.
It was very dark when I turned off the headlights. Charlie had left in such a hurry
that he'd forgotten to leave the porch lamp on. I felt a pang of doubt, staring at the
house, deep in shadow. What if it was a trick?
I looked back at the black car, almost invisible in the night. No. I knew that car.
Still, my hands were shaking even worse than before as I reached for the key
above the door. When I grabbed the doorknob to unlock it, it twisted easily under
my hand. I let the door fall open. The hallway was black.
I wanted to call out a greeting, but my throat was too dry. I couldn't quite seem to
catch my breath.
I took a step inside and fumbled for the light switch. It was so black—like the
black water… Where was that switch?
Just like the black water, with the orange flame flickering impossibly on top of it.
Flame that couldn't be a fire, but what then… ? My fingers traced the wall, still
searching, still shaking—
Suddenly, something Jacob had told me this afternoon echoed in my head, finally
sinking in… She took off into the water, he'd said. The bloodsuckers have the
advantage there. That's why I raced home—I was afraid she was going to double
back swimming.
My hand froze in its searching, my whole body froze into place, as I realized why
I recognized the strange orange color on the water.
Victoria's hair, blowing wild in the wind, the color of fire…
She'd been right there. Right there in the harbor with me and Jacob. If Sam hadn't
been there, if it had been just the two of us… ? I couldn't breathe or move.
The light flicked on, though my frozen hand had still not found the switch.
I blinked into the sudden light, and saw that someone was there, waiting for me.
17. VISITOR
UNNATURALLY STILL AND WHITE, WITH LARGE BLACK EYES intent
on my face, my visitor waited perfectly motionless in the center of the halt,
beautiful beyond imagining.
My knees trembled for a second, and I nearly fell. Then I hurled myself at her.
"Alice, oh, Alice!" I cried, as I slammed into her.
I'd forgotten how hard she was; it was like running headlong into a wall of
cement.
"Bella?" There was a strange mingling of relief and confusion in her voice.
I locked my arms around her, gasping to inhale as much of the scent of her skin
as possible. It wasn't like anything else—not floral or spice, citrus or musk. No
perfume in the world could compare. My memory hadn't done it justice.
I didn't notice when the gasping turned into something else—I only realized I was
sobbing when Alice dragged me to the living room couch and pulled me into her
lap. It was like curling up into a cool stone, but a stone that was contoured
comfortingly to the shape of my body. She rubbed my back in a gentle rhythm,
waiting for me to get control of myself.
"I'm… sorry," I blubbered. "I'm just… so happy… to see you!"
"It's okay, Bella. Everything's okay."
"Yes," I bawled. And, for once, it seemed that way.
Alice sighed. "I'd forgotten how exuberant you are," she said, and her tone was
disapproving.
I looked up at her through my streaming eyes. Alice's neck was tight, straining
away from me, her lips pressed together firmly. Her eyes were black as pitch.
"Oh," I puffed, as I realized the problem. She was thirsty. And I smelled
appetizing. It had been a while since I'd had to think about that kind of thing.
"Sorry."
"It's my own fault. It's been too long since I hunted. I shouldn't let myself get so
thirsty. But I was in a hurry today." The look she directed at me then was a glare.
"Speaking of which, would you like to explain to me how you're alive?"
That brought me up short and stopped the sobs. I realized what must have
happened immediately, and why Alice was here.
I swallowed loudly. "You saw me fall."
"No," she disagreed, her eyes narrowing. "I saw you jump."
I pursed my lips as I tried to think of an explanation that wouldn't sound nuts.
Alice shook her head. "I told him this would happen, but he didn't believe me.
'Bella promised,'" her voice imitated his so perfectly that I iroze in shock while
the pain ripped through my torso. "'Don't be looking for her future, either,'" she
continued to quote him. '"We've done enough damage."
"But just because I'm not looking, doesn't mean I don't see" she went on. "I wasn't
keeping tabs on you, I swear, Bella. It's just that I'm alreacy attuned to you…
when I saw you jumping, I didn't think, I just got on a plane. I knew I would be
too late, but I couldn't do nothing. And then I get here, thinking maybe I could
help Charlie somehow, and you drive up." She shook her head, this time in
confusion. Her voice was strained. "I saw you go into the water and I waited and
waited for you to come up, but you didn't. What happened? And how could you
do that to Charlie? Did you stop to think what this would do to him? And my
brother? Do you have any idea what Edward—"
I cut her off then, as soon as she said his name. I'd let her go on, even after I
realized the misunderstanding she was under, just to hear the perfect bell tone of
her voice. But it was time to interrupt.
"Alice, I wasn't committing suicide."
She eyed me dubiously. "Are you saying you didn't jump off a cliff?"
"No, but…" I grimaced. "It was for recreational purposes only."
Her expression hardened.
"I'd seen some of Jacob's friends cliff diving," I insisted. "It looked like… fun,
and I was bored…"
She waited.
"I didn't think about how the storm would affect the currents. Actually, I didn't
think about the water much at all."
Alice didn't buy it. I could see that she still thought I had been trying to kill
myself. I decided to redirect. "So if you saw me go in, why didn't you see Jacob?"
She cocked her head to the side, distracted.
I continued. "It's true that I probably would have drowned if Jacob hadn't jumped
in after me. Well, okay, there's no probably about it. But he did, and he pulled me
out, and I guess he towed me back to shore, though I was kind of out for that part.
It couldn't have been more than a minute that I was under before he grabbed me.
How come you didn't see that?"
She frowned in perplexity. "Someone pulled you out?"
"Yes. Jacob saved me."
I watched curiously as an enigmatic range of emotions flitted across her face.
Something was bothering her—her imperfect vision? But I wasn't sure. Then she
deliberately leaned in and sniffed my shoulder.
I froze.
"Don't be ridiculous," she muttered, sniffing at me some more.
"What are you doing?"
She ignored my question. "Who was with you out there just now? It sounded like
you were arguing."
"Jacob Black. He's… sort of my best friend, I guess. At least, he was…" I thought
of Jacob's angry, betrayed face, and wondered what he was to me now.
Alice nodded, seeming preoccupied.
"What?"
"I don't know," she said. "I'm not sure what it means."
"Well, I'm not dead, at least."
She rolled her eyes. "He was a fool to think you could survive alone. I've never
seen anyone so prone to life-threatening idiocy."
"I survived," I pointed out.
She was thinking of something else. "So, if the currents were too much for you,
how did this Jacob manage?"
"Jacob is… strong."
She heard the reluctance in my voice, and her eyebrows rose.
I gnawed on my lip for a second. Was this a secret, or not? And if it was, then
who was my greatest allegiance to? Jacob, or Alice?
It was too hard to keep secrets, I decided. Jacob knew everything, why not Alice,
too?
"See, well, he's… sort of a werewolf," I admitted in a rush. "The Quileutes turn
into wolves when there are vampires around. They know Carlisle from a long
time ago. Were you with Carlisle back then?"
Alice gawked at me for a moment, and then recovered herself, blinking rapidly.
"Well, I guess that explains the smell," she muttered. "But does it explain what I
didn't see?" She frowned, her porcelain forehead creasing.
"The smell?" I repeated.
"You smell awful," she said absently, still frowning. "A werewolf? Are you sure
about that?"
"Very sure," I promised, wincing as I remembered Paul and Jacob fighting in the
road. "I guess you weren't with Carlisle the last time there were werewolves here
in Forks?"
"No. I hadn't found him yet." Alice was still lost in thought. Suddenly, her eyes
widened, and she turned to stare at me with a shocked expression. "Your best
friend is a werewolf?"
I nodded sheepishly.
"How long has this been going on?"
"Not long," I said, my voice sounding defensive. "He's only been a werewolf for
just a few weeks."
She glowered at me. "A young werewolf? Even worse! Edward was right—you're
a magnet for danger. Weren't you supposed to be staying out of trouble?"
"There's nothing wrong with werewolves," I grumbled, stung by her critical tone.
"Until they lose their tempers." She shook her head sharply from side to side.
"Leave it to you, Bella. Anyone else would be better off when the vampires left
town. But you have to start hanging out with the first monsters you can find."
I didn't want to argue with Alice—I was still trembling with joy that she was
really, truly here, that I could touch her marble skin and hear her wind-chime
voice—but she had it all wrong.
"No, Alice, the vampires didn't really leave—not all of them, anyway. That's the
whole trouble. If it weren't for the werewolves, Victoria would have gotten me by
now. Well, if it weren't for Jake and his friends, Laurent would have gotten me
before she could, I guess, so—"
"Victoria?" she hissed. "Laurent?"
I nodded, a teensy bit alarmed by the expression in her black eyes. I pointed at
my chest. "Danger magnet, remember?"
She shook her head again. "Tell me everything—start at the beginning."
I glossed over the beginning, skipping the motorcycles and the voices, but telling
her everything else right up to today's misadventure. Alice didn't like my thin
explanation about boredom and the cliffs, so I hurried on to the strange flame I'd
seen on the water and what I thought it meant. Her eyes narrowed almost to slits
at that part. It was strange to see her look so… so dangerous—like a vampire. I
swallowed hard and went on with the rest about Harry.
She listened to my story without interrupting. Occasionally, she would shake her
head, and the crease in her forehead deepened until it looked like it was carved
permanently into the marble of her skin. She didn't speak and, finally, I fell quiet,
struck again by the borrowed grief at Harry's passing. I thought of Charlie; he
would be home soon. What condition would he be in?
"Our leaving didn't do you any good at all, did it?" Alice murmured.
I laughed once—it was a slightly hysterical sound. "That was never the point,
though, was it? It's not like you left for my benefit."
Alice scowled at the floor for a moment. "Well… I guess I acted impulsively
today. I probably shouldn't have intruded."
I could feel the blood draining from my face. My stomach dropped. "Don't go,
Alice," I whispered. My fingers locked around the collar of her white shirt and I
began to hyperventilate. "Please don't leave me."
Her eyes opened wider. "All right," she said, enunciating each word with slow
precision. "I'm not going anywhere tonight. Take a deep breath."
I tried to obey, though I couldn't quite locate my lungs.
She watched my face while I concentrated on my breathing. She waited till I was
calmer to comment.
"You look like hell, Bella."
"I drowned today," I reminded her.
"It goes deeper than that. You're a mess."
I flinched. "Look, I'm doing my best."
"What do you mean?"
"It hasn't been easy. I'm working on it."
She frowned. "I told him," she said to herself.
"Alice," I sighed. "What did you think you were going to find? I mean, besides
me dead? Did you expect to find me skipping around and whistling show tunes?
You know me better than that."
"I do. But I hoped."
"Then I guess I don't have the corner on the idiocy market."
The phone rang.
"That has to be Charlie," I said, staggering to my feet. I grabbed Alice's stone
hand and dragged her with me to the kitchen. I wasn't about to let her out of my
sight.
"Charlie?" I answered the phone.
"No, it's me," Jacob said.
"Jake!"
Alice scrutinized my expression.
"Just making sure you were still alive," Jacob said sourly.
"I'm fine. I told you that it wasn't—"
"Yeah. I got it. 'Bye."
Jacob hung up on me.
I sighed and let my head hang back, staring at the ceiling. "That's going to be a
problem."
Alice squeezed my hand. "They aren't excited I'm here."
"Not especially. But it's none of their business anyway."
Alice put her arm around me. "So what do we do now?" she mused. She seemed
to talk to herself for a moment. "Things to do. Loose ends to tie."
"What things to do?"
Her face was suddenly careful. "I don't know for sure… I need to see Carlisle."
Would she leave so soon? My stomach dropped.
"Could you stay?" I begged. "Please? For just a little while. I've missed you so
much." My voice broke.
"If you think that's a good idea." Her eyes were unhappy.
"I do. You can stay here—Charlie would love that."
"I have a house, Bella."
I nodded, disappointed but resigned. She hesitated, studying me.
"Well, I need to go get a suitcase of clothes, at the very least."
I threw my arms around her. "Alice, you're the best!"
"And I think I'll need to hunt. Immediately," she added in a strained voice.
"Oops." I took a step back.
"Can you stay out of trouble for one hour?" she asked skeptically. Then, before I
could answer, she held up one finger and closed her eyes. Her face went smooth
and blank for a few seconds.
And then her eyes opened and she answered her own question. "Yes, you'll be
fine. For tonight, anyway." She grimaced. Even making faces, she looked like an
angel.
"You'll come back?" I asked in a small voice.
"I promise—one hour."
I glanced at the clock over the kitchen table. She laughed and leaned in quickly to
kiss me on the cheek. Then she was gone.
I took a deep breath. Alice would be back. I suddenly felt so much better.
I had plenty to do to keep myself busy while I waited. A shower was definitely
first on the agenda. I sniffed my shoulders as I undressed, but I couldn't smell
anything but the brine and seaweed scent of the ocean. I wondered what Alice
had meant about me smelling bad.
When I was cleaned up, I went back to the kitchen. I couldn't see any signs that
Charlie 'lad eaten recently, and he would probably be hungry when he got back. I
hummed tunelessly to myself as I moved around the kitchen.
While Thursday's casserole rotated in the microwave, I made up the couch with
sheets and an old pillow. Alice wouldn't need it, but Charlie would need to see it.
I was careful not to watch the clock. There was no reason to start myself
panicking; Alice had promised.
I hurried through my dinner, not tasting it—just feeling the ache as it slid down
my raw throat. Mostly I was thirsty; I must have drunk a half gallon of water by
the time I was finished. All the salt in my system had dehydrated me.
I went to go try to watch TV while I waited.
Alice was already there, sitting on her improvised bed. Her eyes were a liquid
butterscotch. She smiled and patted the pillow. "Thanks."
"You're early," I said, elated.
I sat down next to her and leaned my head on her shoulder. She put her cold arms
around me and sighed.
"Bella. What are we going to do with you?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "I really have been trying my hardest."
"I believe you."
It was silent.
"Does—does he…" I took a deep breath. It was harder to say his name out loud,
even though I was able to think it now. "Does Edward know you're here?" I
couldn't help asking. It was my pain, after all. I'd deal with it when she was gone,
I promised myself, and felt sick at the thought.
"No."
There was only one way that could be true. "He's not with Carlisle and Esme?"
"He checks in every few months."
"Oh." He must still be out enjoying his distractions. I focused my curiosity on a
safer topic. "You said you flew here… Where did you come from?"
"I was in Denali. Visiting Tanya's family."
"Is Jasper here? Did he come with your'"
She shook her head. "He didn't approve of my interfering. We promised…" she
trailed off, and then her tone changed. "And you think Charlie won't mind my
being here?" she asked, sounding worried.
"Charlie thinks you're wonderful, Alice."
"Well, we're about to find out."
Sure enough, a few seconds later I heard the cruiser pull into the driveway. I
jumped up and hurried to open the door.
Charlie trudged slowly up the walk, his eyes on the ground and his shoulders
slumped. I walked forward to meet him; he didn't even see me until I hugged him
around the waist. He embraced me back fiercely.
"I'm so sorry about Harry, Dad."
"I'm really going to miss him," Charlie mumbled.
"How's Sue doing?"
"She seems dazed, like she hasn't grasped it yet. Sam's staying with her…" The
volume of his voice faded in and out. "Those poor kids. Leah's just a year older
than you, and Seth is only fourteen…" He shook his head.
He kept his arms tight around me as he started toward the door again.
"Um, Dad?" I figured I'd better warn him. "You'll never guess who's here."
He looked at me blankly. His head swiveled around, and he spied the Mercedes
across the street, the porch light reflecting off the glossy black paint. Before he
could react, Alice was in the doorway.
"Hi, Charlie," she said in a subdued voice. "I'm sorry I came at such a bad time."
"Alice Cullen?" he peered at the slight figure in front of him as if he doubted
what his eyes were telling him. "Alice, is that you?"
"It's me," she confirmed. "I was in the neighborhood."
"Is Carlisle…?"
"No, I'm alone."
Both Alice and I knew he wasn't really asking about Carlisle. His arm tightened
over my shoulder.
"She can stay here, can't she?" I pleaded. "I already asked her."
"Of course," Charlie said mechanically. "We'd love to have you, Alice."
"Thank you, Charlie. I know it's horrid timing."
"No, it's fine, really. I'm going to be really busy doing what I can for Harry's
family; it will be nice for Bella to have some company."
"There's dinner for you on the table, Dad," I told him.
"Thanks, Bell." He gave me one more squeeze before he shuffled toward the
kitchen.
Alice went back to the couch, and I followed her. This time, she was the one to
pull me against her shoulder.
"You look tired."
"Yeah," I agreed, and shrugged. "Near-death experiences do that to me… So,
what does Carlisle think of you being here?"
"He doesn't know. He and Esme were on a hunting trip. I'll hear from him in a
few days, when he gets back."
"You won't tell him, though… when he checks in again?" I asked. She knew I
didn't mean Carlisle now.
"No. He'd bite my head off," Alice said grimly.
I laughed once, and then sighed.
I didn't want to sleep. I wanted to stay up all night talking to Alice. And it didn't
make sense for me to be tired, what with crashing on Jacob's couch all day. But
drowning really had taken a lot out of me, and my eyes wouldn't stay open. I
rested my head on her stone shoulder, and drifted into a more peaceful oblivion
than I had any hope of.
I woke early, from a deep and dreamless sleep, feeling well-rested, but stiff. I was
on the couch tucked under the blankets I'd laid out for Alice, and I could hear her
and Charlie talking in the kitchen. It sounded like Charlie was fixing her
breakfast.
"How bad was it, Charlie?" Alice asked softly, and at first I thought they were
talking about the Clearwaters.
Charlie sighed. "Real bad."
"Tell me about it. I want to know exactly what happened when we left."
There was a pause while a cupboard door was closed and a dial on the stove was
clicked off. I waited, cringing.
"I've never felt so helpless," Charlie began slowly. "I didn't know what to do.
That first week—I thought I was going to have to hospitalize her. She wouldn't
eat or drink, she wouldn't move. Dr. Gerandy was throwing around words like
'catatonic,' but I didn't let him up to see her. I was afraid it would scare her."
"She snapped out of it though?"
"I had Renee come to take her to Florida. I just didn't want to be the one… if she
had to go to a hospital or something. I hoped being with her mother would help.
But when we started packing her clothes, she woke up with a vengeance. I've
never seen Bella throw a fit like that. She was never one for the tantrums, but,
boy, did she fly into a fury. She threw her clothes everywhere and screamed that
we couldn't make her leave—and then she finally started crying. I thought that
would be the turning point. I didn't argue when she insisted on staying here… and
she did seem to get better at first…"
Charlie trailed off. It was hard listening to this, knowing how much pain I'd
caused him.
"But?" Alice prompted.
"She went back to school and work, she ate and slept and did her homework. She
answered when someone asked her a direct question. But she was… empty. Her
eyes were blank. There were lots of little things—she wouldn't listen to music
anymore; I found a bunch of CDs broken in the trash. She didn't read; she
wouldn't be in the same room when the TV was on, not that she watched it so
much before. I finally figured it out—she was avoiding everything that might
remind her of… him.
"We could hardly talk; I was so worried about saying something that would upset
her—the littlest things would make her flinch—and she never volunteered
anything. She would just answer if I asked her something.
"She was alone all the time. She didn't call her friends back, and after a while,
they stopped calling.
"It was night of the living dead around here. I still hear her screaming in her
sleep…"
I could almost see him shuddering. I shuddered, too, remembering. And then I
sighed. I hadn't fooled him at all, not for one second.
"I'm so sorry, Charlie," Alice said, voice glum.
"It's not your fault." The way he said it made it perfectly clear that he was holding
someone responsible. "You were always a good friend to her."
"She seems better now, though."
"Yeah. Ever since she started hanging out with Jacob Black, I've noticed a real
improvement. She has some color in her cheeks when she comes home, some
light in her eyes. She's happier." He paused, and his voice was different when he
spoke again. "He's a year or so younger than her, and I know she used to think of
him as a friend, but I think maybe it's something more now, or headed that
direction, anyway." Charlie said this in a tone that was almost belligerent. It was
a warning, not for Alice, but for her to pass along. "Jake's old for his years," he
continued, still sounding defensive. "He's taken care of his father physically the
way Bella took care of her mother emotionally. It matured him. He's a goodlooking
kid, too—takes after his mom's side. He's good for Bella, you know,"
Charlie insisted.
"Then it's good she has him," Alice agreed.
Charlie sighed out a big gust of air, folding quickly to the lack of opposition.
"Okay, so I guess that's overstating things. I don't know… even with Jacob, now
and then I see something in her eyes, and I wonder if I've ever grasped how much
pain she's really in It's not normal, Alice, and it… it frightens me. Not normal at
all. Not like someone… left her, but like someone died." His voice cracked.
It was like someone had died—like I had died. Because it had been more than
just losing the truest of true loves, as if that were not enough to kill anyone. It
was also losing a whole future, a whole family—the whole life that I'd chosen…
Charlie went on in a hopeless tone. "I don't know if she's going to get over it—
I'm not sure if it's in her nature to heal from something like this. She's always
been such a constant little thing. She doesn't get past things, change her mind."
"She's one of a kind," Alice agreed in a dry voice.
"And Alice…" Charlie hesitated. "Now, you know how fond I am of you, and I
can tell that she's happy to see you, but… I'm a little worried about what your
visit will do to her."
"So am I, Charlie, so am I. I wouldn't have come if I'd had any idea. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize, honey. Who knows? Maybe it will be good for her."
"I hope you're right."
There was a long break while forks scraped plates and Charlie chewed. I
wondered where Alice was hiding the food.
"Alice, I have to ask you something," Charlie said awkwardly.
Alice was calm. "Go ahead."
"He's not coming back to visit, too, is he?" I could hear the suppressed anger in
Charlie's voice.
Alice answered in a soft, reassuring tone. "He doesn't even know I'm here. The
last time I spoke with him, he was in South America."
I stiffened as I heard this new information, and listened harder.
"That's something, at least." Charlie snorted. "Well, I hope he's enjoying himself."
For the first time, Alice's voice had a bit of steel in it. "I wouldn't make
assumptions, Charlie." I knew how her eyes would flash when she used that tone.
A chair scooted from the table, scraping loudly across the floor. I pictured Charlie
getting up; there was no way Alice would make that kind of noise. The faucet
ran, splashing against a dish.
It didn't sound like they were going to say anything more about Edward, so I
decided it was time to wake up.
I turned over, bouncing against the springs to make them squeak. Then I yawned
loudly.
All was quiet in the kitchen.
I stretched and groaned.
"Alice?" I asked innocently; the soreness rasping in my throat added nicely to the
charade.
"I'm in the kitchen, Bella," Alice called, no hint in her voice that she suspected
my eavesdropping. But she was good at hiding things like that.
Charlie had to leave then—he was helping Sue Clearwater with the funeral
arrangements. It would have been a very long day without Alice. She never spoke
about leaving, and I didn't ask her. I knew it was inevitable, but I put it out of my
mind.
Instead, we talked about her family—all but one.
Carlisle was working nights in Ithaca and teaching part time at Cornell. Esme
was restoring a seventeenth century house, a historical monument, in the forest
north of the city. Emmett and Rosalie had gone to Europe for a few months on
another honeymoon, but they were back now. Jasper was at Cornell, too, studying
philosophy this time. And Alice had been doing some personal research,
concerning the information I'd accidentally uncovered for her last spring. She'd
successfully tracked down the asylum where she'd spent the last years of her
human life. The life she had no memory of.
"My name was Mary Alice Brandon," she told me quietly. "I had a little sister
named Cynthia. Her daughter—my niece—is still alive in Biloxi."
"Did you find out why they put you in… that place?" What would drive parents
to that extreme? Even if their daughter saw visions of the future…
She just shook her head, her topaz eyes thoughtful. "I couldn't find much about
them. I went through all the old newspapers on microfiche. My family wasn't
mentioned often; they weren't part of the social circle that made the papers. My
parents' engagement was there, and Cynthia's." The name fell uncertainly from
her tongue. "My birth was announced… and my death. I found my grave. I also
filched my admissions sheet from the old asylum archives. The date on the
admission and the date on my tombstone are the same."
I didn't know what to say, and, after a short pause, Alice moved on to lighter
topics.
The Cullens were reassembled now, with the one exception, spending Cornell's
spring break in Denali with Tanya and her family. I listened too eagerly to even
the most trivial news. She never mentioned the one I was most interested in, and
for that I was grateful. It was enough to listen to the stories of the family I'd once
dreamed of belonging to.
Charlie didn't get back until after dark, and he looked more worn than he had the
night before. He would be headed back to the reservation first thing in the
morning for Harry's funeral, so he turned in early. I stayed on the couch with
Alice again.
Charlie was almost a stranger when he came down the stairs before the sun was
up, wearing an old suit I'd never seen him in before. The jacket hung open; I
guessed it was too tight to fasten the buttons. His tie was a bit wide for the
current style. He tiptoed to the door, trying not to wake us up. I let him go,
pretending to sleep, as Alice did on the recliner.
As soon as he was out the door, Alice sat up. Under the quilt, she was fully
dressed.
"So, what are we doing today?" she asked.
"I don't know—do you see anything interesting happening?"
She smiled and shook her head. "But it's still early."
All the time I'd been spending in La Push meant a pile of things I'd been
neglecting at home, and I decided to catch up on my chores. I wanted to do
something, anything that might make life easier for Charlie—maybe it would
make him feel just a little better to come home to a clean, organized house. I
started with the bathroom—it showed the most signs of neglect.
While I worked, Alice leaned against the doorjamb and asked nonchalant
questions about my, well, our high school friends and what they been up to since
she'd left. Her face stayed casual and emotionless, but I sensed her disapproval
when she realized how little I could tell her. Or maybe I just had a guilty
conscience after eavesdropping on her conversation with Charlie yesterday
morning.
I was literally up to my elbows in Comet, scrubbing the floor of the bathtub,
when the doorbell rang.
I looked to Alice at once, and her expression was perplexed, almost worried,
which was strange; Alice was never taken by surprise.
"Hold on!" I shouted in the general direction of the front door, getting up and
hurrying to the sink to rinse my arms off.
"Bella," Alice said with a trace of frustration in her voice, "I have a fairly good
guess who that might be, and I think I'd better step out."
"Guess?" I echoed. Since when did Alice have to guess anything?
"If this is a repeat of my egregious lapse in foresight yesterday, then it's most
likely Jacob Black or one of his… friends."
I stared at her, putting it together. "You can't see werewolves?"
She grimaced. "So it would seem." She was obviously annoyed by this fact—very
annoyed.
The doorbell rang again—buzzing twice quickly and impatiently.
"You don't have go anywhere, Alice. You were here first."
She laughed her silvery little laugh—it had a dark edge. "Trust me—it wouldn't
be a good idea to have me and Jacob Black in a room together."
She kissed my cheek swiftly before she vanished through Charlie's door—and out
his back window, no doubt.
The doorbell rang again.
18. THE FUNERAL
I SPRINTED DOWN THE STAIRS AND THREW THE DOOR open.
It was Jacob, of course. Even blind, Alice wasn't slow.
He was standing about six feet back from the door, his nose wrinkled in distaste,
but his face otherwise smooth—masklike. He didn't fool me; I could see the faint
trembling of his hands.
Hostility rolled off of him in waves. It brought back that awful afternoon when
he'd chosen Sam over me, and I felt my chin jerk up defensively in response.
Jacob's Rabbit idled by the curb with Jared behind the wheel and Embry in the
passenger seat. I understood what this meant: they were afraid to let him come
here alone. It made me sad, and a little annoyed. The Cullens weren't like that.
"Hey," I finally said when he didn't speak.
Jake pursed his lips, still hanging back from the door. His eyes flickered across
the front of the house.
I ground my teeth. "She's not here. Do you need something?"
He hesitated. "You're alone?"
"Yes." I sighed.
"Can I talk to you a minute?"
"Of course you can, Jacob. Come on in."
Jacob glanced over his shoulder at his friends in the car. I saw Embry shake his
head just a tiny bit. For some reason, this bugged me to no end.
My teeth clenched together again. "Chicken" I mumbled under my breath.
Jake's eyes flashed back to me, his thick, black brows pushing into a furious
angle over his deep-set eyes. His jaw set, and he marched—there was no other
way to describe the way he moved—up the sidewalk and shrugged past me into
the house.
I locked gazes with first Jared and then Embry—I didn't like the hard way they
eyed me; did they really think I would let anything hurt Jacob?—before I shut the
door on them.
Jacob was in the hall behind me, staring at the mess of blankets in the living room.
"Slumber party?" he asked, his tone sarcastic.
"Yeah," I answered with the same level of acid. I didn't like Jacob when he acted
this way. "What's it to you?"
He wrinkled his nose again like he smelled something unpleasant. "Where's your
'friend'?" I could hear the quotation marks in his tone.
"She had some errands to run. Look, Jacob, what do you want?"
Something about the room seemed to make him edgier—his long arms were
quivering. He didn't answer my question. Instead he moved on to the kitchen, his
restless eyes darting everywhere.
I followed him. He paced back and forth along the short counter.
"Hey," I said, putting myself in his way. He stopped pacing and stared down at
me. "What's your problem?"
"I don't like having to be here."
That stung. I winced, and his eyes tightened.
"Then I'm sorry you had to come," I muttered. "Why don't you tell me what you
need so you can leave?"
"I just have to ask you a couple of questions. It shouldn't take long. We have to
get back for the funeral."
"Okay. Get it over with then." I was probably overdoing it with the antagonism,
but I didn't want him to see how much this hurt. I knew I wasn't being fair. After
all, I'd picked the bloodsucker over him last night. I'd hurt him first.
He took a deep breath, and his trembling fingers were suddenly still. His face
smoothed into a serene mask.
"One of the Cullens is staying here with you," he stated.
"Yes. Alice Cullen."
He nodded thoughtfully. "How long is she here for?"
"As long as she wants to be." The belligerence was still there in my tone. "It's an
open invitation."
"Do you think you could… please… explain to her about the other one—
Victoria?"
I paled. "I told her about that."
He nodded. "You should know that we can only watch our own lands with a
Cullen here. You'll only be safe in La Push. I can't protect you here anymore."
"Okay," I said in a small voice.
He looked away then, out the back windows. He didn't continue.
"Is that all?"
He kept his eyes on the glass as he answered. "Just one more thing."
I waited, but he didn't continue. "Yes?" I finally prompted.
"Are the rest of them coming back now?" he asked in a cool, quiet voice. It
reminded me of Sam's always calm manner. Jacob was becoming more like
Sam… I wondered why that bothered me so much.
Now I didn't speak. He looked back at my face with probing eyes.
"Well?" he asked. He struggled to conceal the tension behind his serene
expression.
"No." I said finally. Grudgingly. "They aren't coming back."
His expression didn't change. "Okay. That's all."
I glared at him, annoyance rekindled. "Well, run along now. Go tell Sam that the
scary monsters aren't coming to get you."
"Okay," he repeated, still calm.
That seemed to be it. Jacob walked swiftly from the kitchen. I waited to hear the
front door open, but I heard nothing. I could hear the clock over the stove ticking,
and I marveled again at how quiet he'd become.
What a disaster. How could I have alienated him so completely in such a short
amount of time?
Would he forgive me when Alice was gone? What if he didn't?
I slumped against the counter and buried my face in my hands. How had I made
such a mess of everything? But what could I have done differently? Even in
hindsight, I couldn't think of any better way, any perfect course of action.
"Bella… ?" Jacob asked in a troubled voice.
I pulled my face out of my hands to see Jacob hesitating in the kitchen doorway;
he hadn't left when I'd thought. It was only when I saw the clear drops sparkling
in my hands that I realized I was crying.
Jacob's calm expression was gone; his face was anxious and unsure. He walked
quickly back to stand in front of me, ducking his head so that his eyes were closer
to being on the same level with mine.
"Did it again, didn't I?"
"Did what?" I asked, my voice cracking.
"Broke my promise. Sorry."
"'S'okay," I mumbled. "I started it this time."
His face twisted. "I knew how you felt about them. It shouldn't have taken me by
surprise like that."
I could see the revulsion in his eyes. I wanted to explain to him what Alice was
really like, to defend her against the judgments he'd made, but something warned
me that now was not the time.
So I just said, "Sorry," again.
"Let's not worry about it, okay? She's just visiting, right? She'll leave, and things
will go back to normal."
"Can't I be friends with you both at the same time?" I asked, my voice not hiding
an ounce of the hurt I felt.
He shook his head slowly. "No, I don't think you can."
I sniffed and stared at his big feet. "But you'll wait, right? You'll still be my
friend, even though I love Alice, too?"
I didn't look up, afraid to see what he'd think of that last part. It took him a minute
to answer, so I was probably right not to look.
"Yeah, I'll always be your friend," he said gruffly. "No matter what you love."
"Promise?"
"Promise."