EDWARD CARRIED ME HOME IN HIS ARMS, EXPECTING that I wouldn’t be able to hang on. I must have fallen asleep on the way.
When I woke up, I was in my bed and the dull light coming through my windows slanted in from a strange angle. Almost like it was afternoon.
I yawned and stretched, my fingers searching for him and coming up empty.
“Edward?” I mumbled.
My seeking fingers encountered something cool and smooth. His hand.
“Are you really awake this time?” he murmured.
“Mmm,” I sighed in assent. “Have there been a lot of false alarms?”
“You’ve been very restless — talking all day.”
“All day?” I blinked and looked at the windows again.
“You had a long night,” he said reassuringly. “You’d earned a day in bed.”
I sat up, and my head spun. The light was coming in my window from the west. “Wow.”
“Hungry?” he guessed. “Do you want breakfast in bed?”
“I’ll get it,” I groaned, stretching again. “I need to get up and move around.”
He held my hand on the way to the kitchen, eyeing me carefully, like I might fall over. Or maybe he thought I was sleepwalking.
I kept it simple, throwing a couple of Pop-Tarts in the toaster. I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflective chrome.
“Ugh, I’m a mess.”
“It was a long night,” he said again. “You should have stayed here and slept.”
“Right! And missed everything. You know, you need to start accepting the fact that I’m part of the family now.”
He smiled. “I could probably get used to that idea.”
I sat down with my breakfast, and he sat next to me. When I lifted the Pop-Tart to take the first bite, I noticed him staring at my hand. I looked down, and saw that I was still wearing the gift that Jacob had given me at the party.
“May I?” he asked, reaching for the tiny wooden wolf.
I swallowed noisily. “Um, sure.”
He moved his hand under the charm bracelet and balanced the little figurine in his snowy palm. For a fleeting moment, I was afraid. Just the slightest twist of his fingers could crush it into splinters.
But of course Edward wouldn’t do that. I was embarrassed I’d even had the thought. He only weighed the wolf in his palm for a moment, and then let it fall. It swung lightly from my wrist.
I tried to read the expression in his eyes. All I could see was thoughtfulness; he kept everything else hidden, if there was anything else.
“Jacob Black can give you presents.”
It wasn’t a question, or an accusation. Just a statement of fact. But I knew he was referring to my last birthday and the fit I’d thrown over gifts; I hadn’t wanted any. Especially not from Edward. It wasn’t entirely logical, and, of course, everyone had ignored me anyway. . . .
“You’ve given me presents,” I reminded him. “You know I like the homemade kind.”
He pursed his lips for a second. “How about hand-me-downs? Are those acceptable?”
“What do you mean?”
“This bracelet.” His finger traced a circle around my wrist. “You’ll be wearing this a lot?”
I shrugged.
“Because you wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings,” he suggested shrewdly.
“Sure, I guess so.”
“Don’t you think it’s fair, then,” he asked, looking down at my hand as he spoke. He turned it palm up, and ran his finger along the veins in my wrist. “If I have a little representation?”
“Representation?”
“A charm — something to keep me on your mind.”
“You’re in every thought I have. I don’t need reminders.”
“If I gave you something, would you wear it?” he pressed.
“A hand-me-down?” I checked.
“Yes, something I’ve had for a while.” He smiled his angel’s smile.
If this was the only reaction to Jacob’s gift, I would take it gladly. “Whatever makes you happy.”
“Have you noticed the inequality?” he asked, and his voice turned accusing. “Because I certainly have.”
“What inequality?”
His eyes narrowed. “Everyone else is able to get away with giving you things. Everyone but me. I would have loved to get you a graduation present, but I didn’t. I knew it would have upset you more than if anyone else did. That’s utterly unfair. How do you explain yourself?”
“Easy.” I shrugged. “You’re more important than everyone else. And you’ve given me you. That’s already more than I deserve, and anything else you give me just throws us more out of balance.”
He processed that for a moment, and then rolled his eyes. “The way you regard me is ludicrous.”
I chewed my breakfast calmly. I knew he wouldn’t listen if I told him that he had that backward.
Edward’s phone buzzed.
He looked at the number before he opened it. “What is it, Alice?”
He listened, and I waited for his reaction, suddenly nervous. But whatever she said didn’t surprise him. He sighed a few times.
“I sort of guessed as much,” he told her, staring into my eyes, a disapproving arch to his brow. “She was talking in her sleep.”
I flushed. What had I said now?
“I’ll take care of it,” he promised.
He glared at me as he shut his phone. “Is there something you’d like to talk to me about?”
I deliberated for a moment. Given Alice’s warning last night, I could guess why she’d called. And then remembering the troubled dreams I’d had as I’d slept through the day — dreams where I chased after Jasper, trying to follow him and find the clearing in the maze-like woods, knowing I would find Edward there . . . Edward, and the monsters who wanted to kill me, but not caring about them because I’d already made my decision — I could also guess what Edward had overheard while I’d slept.
I pursed my lips for a moment, not quite able to meet his gaze. He waited.
“I like Jasper’s idea,” I finally said.
He groaned.
“I want to help. I have to do something,” I insisted.
“It wouldn’t help to have you in danger.”
“Jasper thinks it would. This is his area of expertise.”
Edward glowered at me.
“You can’t keep me away,” I threatened. “I’m not going to hide out in the forest while you all take risks for me.”
Suddenly, he was fighting a smile. “Alice doesn’t see you in the clearing, Bella. She sees you stumbling around lost in the woods. You won’t be able to find us; you’ll just make it more time consuming for me to find you afterward.”
I tried to keep as cool as he was. “That’s because Alice didn’t factor in Seth Clearwater,” I said politely. “If she had, of course, she wouldn’t have been able to see anything at all. But it sounds like Seth wants to be there as much as I do. It shouldn’t be too hard to persuade him to show me the way.”
Anger flickered across his face, and then he took a deep breath and composed himself. “That might have worked . . . if you hadn’t told me. Now I’ll just ask Sam to give Seth certain orders. Much as he might want to, Seth won’t be able to ignore that kind of injunction.”
I kept my smile pleasant. “But why would Sam give those orders? If I tell him how it would help for me to be there? I’ll bet Sam would rather do me a favor than you.”
He had to compose himself again. “Maybe you’re right. But I’m sure Jacob would be only too eager to give those same orders.”
I frowned. “Jacob?”
“Jacob is second in command. Did he never tell you that? His orders have to be followed, too.”
He had me, and by his smile, he knew it. My forehead crumpled. Jacob would be on his side — in this one instance — I was sure. And Jacob never had told me that.
Edward took advantage of the fact that I was momentarily stumped, continuing in a suspiciously smooth and soothing voice.
“I got a fascinating look into the pack’s mind last night. It was better than a soap opera. I had no idea how complex the dynamic is with such a large pack. The pull of the individual against the plural psyche . . . Absolutely fascinating.”
He was obviously trying to distract me. I glared at him.
“Jacob’s been keeping a lot of secrets,” he said with a grin.
I didn’t answer, I just kept glaring, holding on to my argument and waiting for an opening.
“For instance, did you note the smaller gray wolf there last night?”
I nodded one stiff nod.
He chuckled. “They take all of their legends so seriously. It turns out there are things that none of their stories prepared them for.”
I sighed. “Okay, I’ll bite. What are you talking about?”
“They always accepted without question that it was only the direct grandsons of the original wolf who had the power to transform.”
“So someone changed who wasn’t a direct descendant?”
“No. She’s a direct descendant, all right.”
I blinked, and my eyes widened. “She?”
He nodded. “She knows you. Her name is Leah Clearwater.”
“Leah’s a werewolf!” I shrieked. “What? For how long? Why didn’t Jacob tell me?”
“There are things he wasn’t allowed to share — their numbers, for instance. Like I said before, when Sam gives an order, the pack simply isn’t able to ignore it. Jacob was very careful to think of other things when he was near me. Of course, after last night that’s all out the window.”
“I can’t believe it. Leah Clearwater!” Suddenly, I remembered Jacob speaking of Leah and Sam, and the way he acted as if he’d said too much — after he’d said something about Sam having to look in Leah’s eyes every day and know that he’d broken all his promises. . . . Leah on the cliff, a tear glistening on her cheek when Old Quil had spoken of the burden and sacrifice the Quileute sons shared. . . . And Billy, spending time with Sue because she was having trouble with her kids . . . and here the trouble actually was that both of them were werewolves now!
I hadn’t given much thought to Leah Clearwater, just to grieve for her loss when Harry had passed away, and then to pity her again when Jacob had told her story, about how the strange imprinting between Sam and her cousin Emily had broken Leah’s heart.
And now she was part of Sam’s pack, hearing his thoughts . . . and unable to hide her own.
I really hate that part, Jacob had said. Everything you’re ashamed of, laid out for everyone to see.
“Poor Leah,” I whispered.
Edward snorted. “She’s making life exceedingly unpleasant for the rest of them. I’m not sure she deserves your sympathy.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s hard enough for them, having to share all their thoughts. Most of them try to cooperate, make it easier. When even one member is deliberately malicious, it’s painful for everyone.”
“She has reason enough,” I mumbled, still on her side.
“Oh, I know,” he said. “The imprinting compulsion is one of the strangest things I’ve ever witnessed in my life, and I’ve seen some strange things.” He shook his head wonderingly. “The way Sam is tied to his Emily is impossible to describe — or I should say her Sam. Sam really had no choice. It reminds me of A Midsummer Night’s Dream with all the chaos caused by the fairies’ love spells . . . like magic.” He smiled. “It’s very nearly as strong as the way I feel about you.”
“Poor Leah,” I said again. “But what do you mean, malicious?”
“She’s constantly bringing up things they’d rather not think of,” he explained. “For example, Embry.”
“What’s with Embry?” I asked, surprised.
“His mother moved down from the Makah reservation seventeen years ago, when she was pregnant with him. She’s not Quileute. Everyone assumed she’d left his father behind with the Makahs. But then he joined the pack.”
“So?”
“So the prime candidates for his father are Quil Ateara Sr., Joshua Uley, or Billy Black, all of them married at that point, of course.”
“No!” I gasped. Edward was right — this was exactly like a soap opera.
“Now Sam, Jacob, and Quil all wonder which of them has a half-brother. They’d all like to think it’s Sam, since his father was never much of a father. But the doubt is always there. Jacob’s never been able to ask Billy about that.”
“Wow. How did you get so much in one night?”
“The pack mind is mesmerizing. All thinking together and then separately at the same time. There’s so much to read!”
He sounded faintly regretful, like someone who’d had to put down a good book just before the climax. I laughed.
“The pack is fascinating,” I agreed. “Almost as fascinating as you are when you’re trying to distract me.”
His expression became polite again — a perfect poker face.
“I have to be in that clearing, Edward.”
“No,” he said in a very final tone.
A certain path occurred to me at that moment.
It wasn’t so much that I had to be in the clearing. I just had to be where Edward was.
Cruel, I accused myself. Selfish, selfish, selfish! Don’t do it!
I ignored my better instincts. I couldn’t look at him while I spoke, though. The guilt had my eyes glued to the table.
“Okay, look, Edward,” I whispered. “Here’s the thing . . . I’ve already gone crazy once. I know what my limits are. And I can’t stand it if you leave me again.”
I didn’t look up to see his reaction, afraid to know how much pain I was inflicting. I did hear his sudden intake of breath and the silence that followed. I stared at the dark wooden tabletop, wishing I could take the words back. But knowing I probably wouldn’t. Not if it worked.
Suddenly, his arms were around me, his hands stroking my face, my arms. He was comforting me. The guilt went into spiral mode. But the survival instinct was stronger. There was no question that he was fundamental to my survival.
“You know it’s not like that, Bella,” he murmured. “I won’t be far, and it will be over quickly.”
“I can’t stand it,” I insisted, still staring down. “Not knowing whether or not you’ll come back. How do I live through that, no matter how quickly it’s over?”
He sighed. “It’s going to be easy, Bella. There’s no reason for your fears.”
“None at all?”
“None.”
“And everybody will be fine?”
“Everyone,” he promised.
“So there’s no way at all that I need to be in the clearing?”
“Of course not. Alice just told me that they’re down to nineteen. We’ll be able to handle it easily.”
“That’s right — you said it was so easy that someone could sit out,” I repeated his words from last night. “Did you really mean that?”
“Yes.”
It felt too simple — he had to see it coming.
“So easy that you could sit out?”
After a long moment of silence, I finally looked up at his expression.
The poker face was back.
I took a deep breath. “So it’s one way or the other. Either there is more danger than you want me to know about, in which case it would be right for me to be there, to do what I can to help. Or . . . it’s going to be so easy that they’ll get by without you. Which way is it?”
He didn’t speak.
I knew what he was thinking of — the same thing I was thinking of. Carlisle. Esme. Emmett. Rosalie. Jasper. And . . . I forced myself to think the last name. And Alice.
I wondered if I was a monster. Not the kind that he thought he was, but the real kind. The kind that hurt people. The kind that had no limits when it came to what they wanted.
What I wanted was to keep him safe, safe with me. Did I have a limit to what I would do, what I would sacrifice for that? I wasn’t sure.
“You ask me to let them fight without my help?” he said in a quiet voice.
“Yes.” I was surprised I could keep my voice even, I felt so wretched inside. “Or to let me be there. Either way, so long as we’re together.”
He took a deep breath, and then exhaled slowly. He moved his hands to place them on either side of my face, forcing me to meet his gaze. He looked into my eyes for a long time. I wondered what he was looking for, and what it was that he found. Was the guilt as thick on my face as it was in my stomach — sickening me?
His eyes tightened against some emotion I couldn’t read, and he dropped one hand to pull out his phone again.
“Alice,” he sighed. “Could you come babysit Bella for a bit?” He raised one eyebrow, daring me to object to the word. “I need to speak with Jasper.”
She evidently agreed. He put the phone away and went back to staring at my face.
“What are you going to say to Jasper?” I whispered.
“I’m going to discuss . . . me sitting out.”
It was easy to read in his face how difficult the words were for him.
“I’m sorry.”
I was sorry. I hated to make him do this. Not enough that I could fake a smile and tell him to go on ahead without me. Definitely not that much.
“Don’t apologize,” he said, smiling just a little. “Never be afraid to tell me how you feel, Bella. If this is what you need . . .” He shrugged. “You are my first priority.”
“I didn’t mean it that way — like you have to choose me over your family.”