To my husband, Pancho,

for your patience, love, friendship, humor,

and willingness to eat out.

And also to my children, Gabe, Seth, and Eli,

for letting me experience the kind of love that people freely die for.

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I’ve tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

Robert Frost

PREFACE

ALL OUR ATTEMPTS AT SUBTERFUGE HAD BEEN IN VAIN.

With ice in my heart, I watched him prepare to defend me. His intense concentration betrayed no hint of doubt, though he was outnumbered. I knew that we could expect no help — at this moment, his family was fighting for their lives just as surely as he was for ours.

Would I ever learn the outcome of that other fight? Find out who the winners and the losers were? Would I live long enough for that?

The odds of that didn’t look so great.

Black eyes, wild with their fierce craving for my death, watched for the moment when my protector’s attention would be diverted. The moment when I would surely die.

Somewhere, far, far away in the cold forest, a wolf howled.

1. ULTIMATUM

Bella,

I don’t know why you’re making Charlie carry notes to Billy like we’re in second grade — if I wanted to talk to you I would answer the

You made the choice here, okay? You can’t have it both ways when

What part of ‘mortal enemies’ is too complicated for you to

Look, I know I’m being a jerk, but there’s just no way around

We can’t be friends when you’re spending all your time with a bunch of

It just makes it worse when I think about you too much, so don’t write anymore

Yeah, I miss you, too. A lot. Doesn’t change anything. Sorry.

Jacob

2. EVASION

I FELT ODDLY BUOYANT AS I WALKED FROM SPANISH toward the cafeteria, and it wasn’t just because I was holding hands with the most perfect person on the planet, though that was certainly part of it.

Maybe it was the knowledge that my sentence was served and I was a free woman again.

Or maybe it wasn’t anything to do with me specifically. Maybe it was the atmosphere of freedom that hung over the entire campus. School was winding down, and, for the senior class especially, there was a perceptible thrill in the air.

Freedom was so close it was touchable, taste-able. Signs of it were everywhere. Posters crowded together on the cafeteria walls, and the trashcans wore a colorful skirt of spilled-over fliers: reminders to buy yearbooks, class rings, and announcements; deadlines to order graduation gowns, hats, and tassels; neon-bright sales pitches — the juniors campaigning for class office; ominous, rose-wreathed advertisements for this year’s prom. The big dance was this coming weekend, but I had an ironclad promise from Edward that I would not be subjected to that again. After all, I’d already had that human experience.

No, it must be my personal freedom that lightened me today. The ending of the school year did not give me the pleasure it seemed to give the other students. Actually, I felt nervous to the point of nausea whenever I thought of it. I tried to not think of it.

But it was hard to escape such an omnipresent topic as graduation.

“Have you sent your announcements, yet?” Angela asked when Edward and I sat down at our table. She had her light brown hair pulled back into a sloppy ponytail instead of her usual smooth hairdo, and there was a slightly frantic look about her eyes.

Alice and Ben were already there, too, on either side of Angela. Ben was intent over a comic book, his glasses sliding down his narrow nose. Alice was scrutinizing my boring jeans-and-a-t-shirt outfit in a way that made me self-conscious. Probably plotting another makeover. I sighed. My indifferent attitude to fashion was a constant thorn in her side. If I’d allow it, she’d love to dress me every day — perhaps several times a day — like some oversized three-dimensional paper doll.

“No,” I answered Angela. “There’s no point, really. Renée knows when I’m graduating. Who else is there?”

“How about you, Alice?”

Alice smiled. “All done.”

“Lucky you.” Angela sighed. “My mother has a thousand cousins and she expects me to hand-address one to everybody. I’m going to get carpal tunnel. I can’t put it off any longer and I’m just dreading it.”

“I’ll help you,” I volunteered. “If you don’t mind my awful handwriting.”

Charlie would like that. From the corner of my eye, I saw Edward smile. He must like that, too — me fulfilling Charlie’s conditions without involving werewolves.

Angela looked relieved. “That’s so nice of you. I’ll come over any time you want.”

“Actually, I’d rather go to your house if that’s okay — I’m sick of mine. Charlie un-grounded me last night.” I grinned as I announced my good news.

“Really?” Angela asked, mild excitement lighting her always-gentle brown eyes. “I thought you said you were in for life.”

“I’m more surprised than you are. I was sure I would at least have finished high school before he set me free.”

“Well, this is great, Bella! We’ll have to go out to celebrate.”

“You have no idea how good that sounds.”

“What should we do?” Alice mused, her face lighting up at the possibilities. Alice’s ideas were usually a little grandiose for me, and I could see it in her eyes now — the tendency to take things too far kicking into action.

“Whatever you’re thinking, Alice, I doubt I’m that free.”

“Free is free, right?” she insisted.

“I’m sure I still have boundaries — like the continental U.S., for example.”

Angela and Ben laughed, but Alice grimaced in real disappointment.

“So what are we doing tonight?” she persisted.

“Nothing. Look, let’s give it a couple of days to make sure he wasn’t joking. It’s a school night, anyway.”

“We’ll celebrate this weekend, then.” Alice’s enthusiasm was impossible to repress.

“Sure,” I said, hoping to placate her. I knew I wasn’t going to do anything too outlandish; it would be safer to take it slow with Charlie. Give him a chance to appreciate how trustworthy and mature I was before I asked for any favors.

Angela and Alice started talking about options; Ben joined the conversation, setting his comics aside. My attention drifted. I was surprised to find that the subject of my freedom was suddenly not as gratifying as it had been just a moment ago. While they discussed things to do in Port Angeles or maybe Hoquiam, I began to feel disgruntled.

It didn’t take long to determine where my restlessness stemmed from.

Ever since I’d said goodbye to Jacob Black in the forest outside my home, I’d been plagued by a persistent, uncomfortable intrusion of a specific mental picture. It popped into my thoughts at regular intervals like some annoying alarm clock set to sound every half hour, filling my head with the image of Jacob’s face crumpled in pain. This was the last memory I had of him.

As the disturbing vision struck again, I knew exactly why I was dissatisfied with my liberty. Because it was incomplete.

Sure, I was free to go to anywhere I wanted — except La Push; free to do anything I wanted — except see Jacob. I frowned at the table. There had to be some kind of middle ground.

“Alice? Alice!”

Angela’s voice yanked me from my reverie. She was waving her hand back and forth in front of Alice’s blank, staring face. Alice’s expression was something I recognized — an expression that sent an automatic shock of panic through my body. The vacant look in her eyes told me that she was seeing something very different from the mundane lunchroom scene that surrounded us, but something that was every bit as real in its own way. Something that was coming, something that would happen soon. I felt the blood slither from my face.

Then Edward laughed, a very natural, relaxed sound. Angela and Ben looked toward him, but my eyes were locked on Alice. She jumped suddenly, as if someone had kicked her under the table.

“Is it naptime already, Alice?” Edward teased.

Alice was herself again. “Sorry, I was daydreaming, I guess.”

“Daydreaming’s better than facing two more hours of school,” Ben said.

Alice threw herself back into the conversation with more animation than before — just a little bit too much. Once I saw her eyes lock with Edward’s, only for a moment, and then she looked back to Angela before anyone else noticed. Edward was quiet, playing absentmindedly with a strand of my hair.

I waited anxiously for a chance to ask Edward what Alice had seen in her vision, but the afternoon passed without one minute of alone time.

It felt odd to me, almost deliberate. After lunch, Edward slowed his pace to match Ben’s, talking about some assignment I knew he’d already finished. Then there was always someone else there between classes, though we usually had a few minutes to ourselves. When the final bell rang, Edward struck up a conversation with Mike Newton of all people, falling into step beside him as Mike headed for the parking lot. I trailed behind, letting Edward tow me along.

I listened, confused, while Mike answered Edward’s unusually friendly queries. It seemed Mike was having car troubles.

“. . . but I just replaced the battery,” Mike was saying. His eyes darted ahead and then back to Edward warily. Mystified, just like I was.

“Perhaps it’s the cables?” Edward offered.

“Maybe. I really don’t know anything about cars,” Mike admitted. “I need to have someone look at it, but I can’t afford to take it to Dowling’s.”

I opened my mouth to suggest my mechanic, and then snapped it shut again. My mechanic was busy these days — busy running around as a giant wolf.

“I know a few things — I could take a look, if you like,” Edward offered. “Just let me drop Alice and Bella at home.”

Mike and I both stared at Edward with our mouths hanging open.

“Er . . . thanks,” Mike mumbled when he recovered. “But I have to get to work. Maybe some other time.”

“Absolutely.”

“See ya.” Mike climbed into his car, shaking his head in disbelief.

Edward’s Volvo, with Alice already inside, was just two cars away.

“What was that about?” I muttered as Edward held the passenger door for me.

“Just being helpful,” Edward answered.

And then Alice, waiting in the backseat, was babbling at top speed.

“You’re really not that good a mechanic, Edward. Maybe you should have Rosalie take a look at it tonight, just so you look good if Mike decides to let you help, you know. Not that it wouldn’t be fun to watch his face if Rosalie showed up to help. But since Rosalie is supposed to be across the country attending college, I guess that’s not the best idea. Too bad. Though I suppose, for Mike’s car, you’ll do. It’s only within the finer tunings of a good Italian sports car that you’re out of your depth. And speaking of Italy and sports cars that I stole there, you still owe me a yellow Porsche. I don’t know that I want to wait for Christmas. . . .”

I stopped listening after a minute, letting her quick voice become just a hum in the background as I settled into my patient mode.

It looked to me like Edward was trying to avoid my questions. Fine. He would have to be alone with me soon enough. It was only a matter of time.

Edward seemed to realize that, too. He dropped Alice at the mouth of the Cullens’ drive as usual, though by this point I half expected him to drive her to the door and walk her in.

As she got out, Alice threw a sharp look at his face. Edward seemed completely at ease.

“See you later,” he said. And then, ever so slightly, he nodded.

Alice turned to disappear into the trees.

He was quiet as he turned the car around and headed back to Forks. I waited, wondering if he would bring it up himself. He didn’t, and this made me tense. What had Alice seen today at lunch? Something he didn’t want to tell me, and I tried to think of a reason why he would keep secrets. Maybe it would be better to prepare myself before I asked. I didn’t want to freak out and have him think I couldn’t handle it, whatever it was.

So we were both silent until we got to back to Charlie’s house.

“Light homework load tonight,” he commented.

“Mmm,” I assented.

“Do you suppose I’m allowed inside again?”

“Charlie didn’t throw a fit when you picked me up for school.”

But I was sure Charlie was going to turn sulky fast when he got home and found Edward here. Maybe I should make something extra-special for dinner.

Inside, I headed up the stairs, and Edward followed. He lounged on my bed and gazed out the window, seeming oblivious to my edginess.

I stowed my bag and turned the computer on. There was an unanswered e-mail from my mom to attend to, and she got panicky when I took too long. I drummed my fingers as I waited for my decrepit computer to wheeze awake; they snapped against the desk, staccato and anxious.

And then his fingers were on mine, holding them still.

“Are we a little impatient today?” he murmured.

I looked up, intending to make a sarcastic remark, but his face was closer than I’d expected. His golden eyes were smoldering, just inches away, and his breath was cool against my open lips. I could taste his scent on my tongue.

I couldn’t remember the witty response I’d been about to make. I couldn’t remember my name.

He didn’t give me a chance to recover.

If I had my way, I would spend the majority of my time kissing Edward. There wasn’t anything I’d experienced in my life that compared to the feeling of his cool lips, marble hard but always so gentle, moving with mine.

I didn’t often get my way.

So it surprised me a little when his fingers braided themselves into my hair, securing my face to his. My arms locked behind his neck, and I wished I was stronger — strong enough to keep him prisoner here. One hand slid down my back, pressing me tighter against his stone chest. Even through his sweater, his skin was cold enough to make me shiver — it was a shiver of pleasure, of happiness, but his hands began to loosen in response.

I knew I had about three seconds before he would sigh and slide me deftly away, saying something about how we’d risked my life enough for one afternoon. Making the most of my last seconds, I crushed myself closer, molding myself to the shape of him. The tip of my tongue traced the curve of his lower lip; it was as flawlessly smooth as if it had been polished, and the taste —

He pulled my face away from his, breaking my hold with ease — he probably didn’t even realize that I was using all my strength.

He chuckled once, a low, throaty sound. His eyes were bright with the excitement he so rigidly disciplined.

“Ah, Bella.” He sighed.

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.”

“And I should feel sorry that you’re not sorry, but I don’t. Maybe I should go sit on the bed.”

I exhaled a little dizzily. “If you think that’s necessary. . . .”

He smiled crookedly and disentangled himself.

I shook my head a few times, trying to clear it, and turned back to my computer. It was all warmed up and humming now. Well, not as much humming as groaning.

“Tell Renée I said hello.”

“Sure thing.”

I scanned through Renée’s e-mail, shaking my head now and then at some of the dippier things she’d done. I was just as entertained and horrified as the first time I’d read this. It was so like my mother to forget exactly how paralyzed she was by heights until she was already strapped to a parachute and a dive instructor. I felt a little frustrated with Phil, her husband of almost two years, for allowing that one. I would have taken better care of her. I knew her so much better.

You have to let them go their own way eventually, I reminded myself. You have to let them have their own life. . . .

I’d spent most of my life taking care of Renée, patiently guiding her away from her craziest plans, good-naturedly enduring the ones I couldn’t talk her out of. I’d always been indulgent with my mom, amused by her, even a little condescending to her. I saw her cornucopia of mistakes and laughed privately to myself. Scatterbrained Renée.

I was a very different person from my mother. Someone thoughtful and cautious. The responsible one, the grown-up. That’s how I saw myself. That was the person I knew.

With the blood still pounding in my head from Edward’s kiss, I couldn’t help but think of my mother’s most life-altering mistake. Silly and romantic, getting married fresh out of high school to a man she barely knew, then producing me a year later. She’d always promised me that she had no regrets, that I was the best gift her life had ever given her. And yet she’d drilled it into me over and over — smart people took marriage seriously. Mature people went to college and started careers before they got deeply involved in a relationship. She knew I would never be as thoughtless and goofy and small-town as she’d been. . . .

I gritted my teeth and tried to concentrate as I answered her letter.

Then I hit her parting line and remembered why I’d neglected to write sooner.

You haven’t said anything about Jacob in a long time, she’d written. What’s he up to these days?

Charlie was prompting her, I was sure.

I sighed and typed quickly, tucking the answer to her question between two less sensitive paragraphs.

Jacob is fine, I guess. I don’t see him much; he spends most of his time with a pack of his friends down at La Push these days.

Smiling wryly to myself, I added Edward’s greeting and hit “send.”

I didn’t realize that Edward was standing silently behind me again until after I’d turned off the computer and shoved away from the desk. I was about to scold him for reading over my shoulder when I realized that he wasn’t paying any attention to me. He was examining a flat black box with wires curling crookedly away from the main square in a way that didn’t look healthy for whatever it was. After a second, I recognized the car stereo Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper had given me for my last birthday. I’d forgotten about the birthday presents hiding under a growing pile of dust on the floor of my closet.

“What did you do to this?” he asked in a horrorstruck voice.

“It didn’t want to come out of the dashboard.”

“So you felt the need to torture it?”

“You know how I am with tools. No pain was inflicted intentionally.”

He shook his head, his face a mask of faux tragedy. “You killed it.”

I shrugged. “Oh, well.”

“It would hurt their feelings if they saw this,” he said. “I guess it’s a good thing that you’ve been on house arrest. I’ll have to get another one in place before they notice.”

“Thanks, but I don’t need a fancy stereo.”

“It’s not for your sake that I’m going to replace it.”

I sighed.

“You didn’t get much good out of your birthday presents last year,” he said in a disgruntled voice. Suddenly, he was fanning himself with a stiff rectangle of paper.

I didn’t answer, for fear my voice would shake. My disastrous eighteenth birthday — with all its far-reaching consequences — wasn’t something I cared to remember, and I was surprised that he would bring it up. He was even more sensitive about it than I was.

“Do you realize these are about to expire?” he asked, holding the paper out to me. It was another present — the voucher for airplane tickets that Esme and Carlisle had given me so that I could visit Renée in Florida.

I took a deep breath and answered in a flat voice. “No. I’d forgotten all about them, actually.”

His expression was carefully bright and positive; there was no trace of any deep emotion as he continued. “Well, we still have a little time. You’ve been liberated . . . and we have no plans this weekend, as you refuse to go to the prom with me.” He grinned. “Why not celebrate your freedom this way?”

I gasped. “By going to Florida?”

“You did say something about the continental U.S. being allowable.”

I glared at him, suspicious, trying to understand where this had come from.

“Well?” he demanded. “Are we going to see Renée or not?”

“Charlie will never allow it.”

“Charlie can’t keep you from visiting your mother. She still has primary custody.”

“Nobody has custody of me. I’m an adult.”

He flashed a brilliant smile. “Exactly.”

I thought it over for a short minute before deciding that it wasn’t worth the fight. Charlie would be furious — not that I was going to see Renée, but that Edward was going with me. Charlie wouldn’t speak to me for months, and I’d probably end up grounded again. It was definitely smarter not to even bring it up. Maybe in a few weeks, as a graduation favor or something.

But the idea of seeing my mother now, not weeks from now, was hard to resist. It had been so long since I’d seen Renée. And even longer since I’d seen her under pleasant circumstances. The last time I’d been with her in Phoenix, I’d spent the whole time in a hospital bed. The last time she’d come here, I’d been more or less catatonic. Not exactly the best memories to leave her with.

And maybe, if she saw how happy I was with Edward, she would tell Charlie to ease up.

Edward scrutinized my face while I deliberated.

I sighed. “Not this weekend.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to fight with Charlie. Not so soon after he’s forgiven me.”

His eyebrows pulled together. “I think this weekend is perfect,” he muttered.

I shook my head. “Another time.”

“You aren’t the only one who’s been trapped in this house, you know.” He frowned at me.

Suspicion returned. This kind of behavior was unlike him. He was always so impossibly selfless; I knew it was making me spoiled.

“You can go anywhere you want,” I pointed out.

“The outside world holds no interest for me without you.”

I rolled my eyes at the hyperbole.

“I’m serious,” he said.

“Let’s take the outside world slowly, all right? For example, we could start with a movie in Port Angeles. . . .”

He groaned. “Never mind. We’ll talk about it later.”

“There’s nothing left to talk about.”

He shrugged.

“Okay, then, new subject,” I said. I’d almost forgotten my worries about this afternoon — had that been his intention? “What did Alice see today at lunch?”

My eyes were fixed on his face as I spoke, measuring his reaction.

His expression was composed; there was only the slightest hardening of his topaz eyes. “She’s been seeing Jasper in a strange place, somewhere in the southwest, she thinks, near his former . . . family. But he has no conscious intentions to go back.” He sighed. “It’s got her worried.”

“Oh.” That was nothing close to what I’d been expecting. But of course it made sense that Alice would be watching out for Jasper’s future. He was her soul mate, her true other half, though they weren’t as flamboyant about their relationship as Rosalie and Emmett were. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I didn’t realize you’d noticed,” he said. “It’s probably nothing important, in any case.”

My imagination was sadly out of control. I’d taken a perfectly normal afternoon and twisted it until it looked like Edward was going out of his way to keep things from me. I needed therapy.

We went downstairs to work on our homework, just in case Charlie showed up early. Edward finished in minutes; I slogged laboriously through my calculus until I decided it was time to fix Charlie’s dinner. Edward helped, making faces every so often at the raw ingredients — human food was mildly repulsive to him. I made stroganoff from Grandma Swan’s recipe, because I was sucking up. It wasn’t one of my favorites, but it would please Charlie.

3. MOTIVES

THE SUN WAS SO DEEPLY BURIED BEHIND THE CLOUDS that there was no way to tell if it had set or not. After the long flight — chasing the sun westward so that it seemed unmoving in the sky — it was especially disorienting; time seemed oddly variable. It took me by surprise when the forest gave way to the first buildings, signaling that we were nearly home.

“You’ve been very quiet,” Edward observed. “Did the plane make you sick?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“Are you sad to leave?”

“More relieved than sad, I think.”

He raised one eyebrow at me. I knew it was useless and — much as I hated to admit it — unnecessary to ask him to keep his eyes on the road.

“Renée is so much more . . . perceptive than Charlie in some ways. It was making me jumpy.”

Edward laughed. “Your mother has a very interesting mind. Almost childlike, but very insightful. She sees things differently than other people.”

Insightful. It was a good description of my mother — when she was paying attention. Most of the time Renée was so bewildered by her own life that she didn’t notice much else. But this weekend she’d been paying plenty of attention to me.

Phil was busy — the high school baseball team he coached was in the playoffs — and being alone with Edward and me had only sharpened Renée’s focus. As soon as the hugs and squeals of delight were out of the way, Renée began to watch. And as she’d watched, her wide blue eyes had become first confused and then concerned.

This morning we’d gone for a walk along the beach. She wanted to show off all the beauties of her new home, still hoping, I think, that the sun might lure me away from Forks. She’d also wanted to talk with me alone, and that was easily arranged. Edward had fabricated a term paper to give himself an excuse to stay indoors during the day.

In my head, I went through the conversation again. . . .

Renée and I ambled along the sidewalk, trying to stay in the range of the infrequent palm tree shadows. Though it was early, the heat was smothering. The air was so heavy with moisture that just breathing in and out was giving my lungs a workout.

“Bella?” my mother asked, looking out past the sand to the lightly crashing waves as she spoke.

“What is it, Mom?”

She sighed, not meeting my gaze. “I’m worried. . . .”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, anxious at once. “What can I do?”

“It’s not me.” She shook her head. “I’m worried about you . . . and Edward.”

Renée finally looked at me when she said his name, her face apologetic.

“Oh,” I mumbled, fixing my eyes on a pair of joggers as they passed us, drenched with sweat.

“You two are more serious than I’d been thinking,” she went on.

I frowned, quickly reviewing the last two days in my head. Edward and I had barely touched — in front of her, at least. I wondered if Renée was about to give me a lecture on responsibility, too. I didn’t mind that the way I had with Charlie. It wasn’t embarrassing with my mom. After all, I’d been the one giving her that lecture time and time again in the last ten years.

“There’s something . . . strange about the way you two are together,” she murmured, her forehead creasing over her troubled eyes. “The way he watches you — it’s so . . . protective. Like he’s about to throw himself in front of a bullet to save you or something.”

I laughed, though I was still not able to meet her gaze. “That’s a bad thing?”

“No.” She frowned as she struggled for the words. “It’s just different. He’s very intense about you . . . and very careful. I feel like I don’t really understand your relationship. Like there’s some secret I’m missing. . . .”

“I think you’re imagining things, Mom,” I said quickly, struggling to keep my voice light. There was a flutter in my stomach. I’d forgotten how much my mother saw. Something about her simple view of the world cut through all the distractions and pierced right to the truth of things. This had never been a problem before. Until now, there had never been a secret I couldn’t tell her.

“It’s not just him.” She set her lips defensively. “I wish you could see how you move around him.”

“What do you mean?”

“The way you move — you orient yourself around him without even thinking about it. When he moves, even a little bit, you adjust your position at the same time. Like magnets . . . or gravity. You’re like a . . . satellite, or something. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

She pursed her lips and stared down.

“Don’t tell me,” I teased, forcing a smile. “You’re reading mysteries again, aren’t you? Or is it sci-fi this time?”

Renée flushed a delicate pink. “That’s beside the point.”

“Found anything good?”

“Well, there was one — but that doesn’t matter. We’re talking about you right now.”

“You should stick to romance, Mom. You know how you freak yourself out.”

Her lips turned up at the corners. “I’m being silly, aren’t I?”

For half a second I couldn’t answer. Renée was so easily swayed. Sometimes it was a good thing, because not all of her ideas were practical. But it pained me to see how quickly she caved in to my trivializing, especially since she was dead right this time.

She looked up, and I controlled my expression.

“Not silly — just being a mom.”

She laughed and then gestured grandly toward the white sands stretching to the blue water.

“And all this isn’t enough to get you to move back in with your silly mom?”

I wiped my hand dramatically across my forehead, and then pretended to wring my hair out.

“You get used to the humidity,” she promised.

“You can get used to rain, too,” I countered.

She elbowed me playfully and then took my hand as we walked back to her car.

Other than her worries about me, she seemed happy enough. Content. She still looked at Phil with goo-goo eyes, and that was comforting. Surely her life was full and satisfying. Surely she didn’t miss me that much, even now. . . .

Edward’s icy fingers brushed my cheek. I looked up, blinking, coming back to the present. He leaned down and kissed my forehead.

“We’re home, Sleeping Beauty. Time to awake.”

We were stopped in front of Charlie’s house. The porch light was on and the cruiser was parked in the driveway. As I examined the house, I saw the curtain twitch in the living room window, flashing a line of yellow light across the dark lawn.

I sighed. Of course Charlie was waiting to pounce.

Edward must have been thinking the same thing, because his expression was stiff and his eyes remote as he came to get my door for me.

“How bad?” I asked.

“Charlie’s not going to be difficult,” Edward promised, his voice level with no hint of humor. “He missed you.”

My eyes narrowed in doubt. If that was the case, then why was Edward tensed as if for a battle?

My bag was small, but he insisted on carrying it into the house. Charlie held the door open for us.

“Welcome home, kid!” Charlie shouted like he really meant it. “How was Jacksonville?”

“Moist. And buggy.”

“So Renée didn’t sell you on the University of Florida?”

“She tried. But I’d rather drink water than inhale it.”

Charlie’s eyes flickered unwillingly to Edward. “Did you have a nice time?”

“Yes,” Edward answered in a serene voice. “Renée was very hospitable.”

“That’s . . . um, good. Glad you had fun.” Charlie turned away from Edward and pulled me in for an unexpected hug.

“Impressive,” I whispered in his ear.

He rumbled a laugh. “I really missed you, Bells. The food around here sucks when you’re gone.”

“I’ll get on it,” I said as he let me go.

“Would you call Jacob first? He’s been bugging me every five minutes since six o’clock this morning. I promised I’d have you call him before you even unpacked.”

I didn’t have to look at Edward to feel that he was too still, too cold beside me. So this was the cause of his tension.

“Jacob wants to talk to me?”

“Pretty bad, I’d say. He wouldn’t tell me what it was about — just said it was important.”

The phone rang then, shrill and demanding.

“That’s him again, I’d bet my next paycheck,” Charlie muttered.

“I got it.” I hurried to the kitchen.

Edward followed after me while Charlie disappeared into the living room.

I grabbed the phone mid-ring, and twisted around so that I was facing the wall. “Hello?”

“You’re back,” Jacob said.

His familiar husky voice sent a wave of wistfulness through me. A thousand memories spun in my head, tangling together — a rocky beach strewn with driftwood trees, a garage made of plastic sheds, warm sodas in a paper bag, a tiny room with one too-small shabby loveseat. The laughter in his deep-set black eyes, the feverish heat of his big hand around mine, the flash of his white teeth against his dark skin, his face stretching into the wide smile that had always been like a key to a secret door where only kindred spirits could enter.

It felt sort of like homesickness, this longing for the place and person who had sheltered me through my darkest night.

I cleared the lump from my throat. “Yes,” I answered.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Jacob demanded.

His angry tone instantly got my back up. “Because I’ve been in the house for exactly four seconds and your call interrupted Charlie telling me that you’d called.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Sure. Now, why are you harassing Charlie?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Yeah, I figured out that part all by myself. Go ahead.”

There was a short pause.

“You going to school tomorrow?”

I frowned to myself, unable to make sense of this question. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I dunno. Just curious.”

Another pause.

“So what did you want to talk about, Jake?”

He hesitated. “Nothing really, I guess. I . . . wanted to hear your voice.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m so glad you called me, Jake. I . . .” But I didn’t know what more to say. I wanted to tell him I was on my way to La Push right now. And I couldn’t tell him that.

“I have to go,” he said abruptly.

“What?”

“I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“But Jake —”

He was already gone. I listened to the dial tone with disbelief.

“That was short,” I muttered.

“Is everything all right?” Edward asked. His voice was low and careful.

I turned slowly to face him. His expression was perfectly smooth — impossible to read.

“I don’t know. I wonder what that was about.” It didn’t make sense that Jacob had been hounding Charlie all day just to ask me if I was going to school. And if he’d wanted to hear my voice, then why did he hang up so quickly?

“Your guess is probably better than mine,” Edward said, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Mmm,” I murmured. That was true. I knew Jake inside and out. It shouldn’t be that complicated to figure out his motivations.

With my thoughts miles away — about fifteen miles away, up the road to La Push — I started combing through the fridge, assembling ingredients for Charlie’s dinner. Edward leaned against the counter, and I was distantly aware that his eyes were on my face, but too preoccupied to worry about what he saw there.

The school thing seemed like the key to me. That was the only real question Jake had asked. And he had to be after an answer to something, or he wouldn’t have been bugging Charlie so persistently.

Why would my attendance record matter to him, though?

I tried to think about it in a logical way. So, if I hadn’t been going to school tomorrow, what would be the problem with that, from Jacob’s perspective? Charlie had given me a little grief about missing a day of school so close to finals, but I’d convinced him that one Friday wasn’t going to derail my studies. Jake would hardly care about that.

My brain refused to come up with any brilliant insights. Maybe I was missing some vital piece of information.

What could have changed in the past three days that was so important that Jacob would break his long streak of refusing to answer my phone calls and contact me? What difference could three days make?

I froze in the middle of the kitchen. The package of icy hamburger in my hands slipped through my numb fingers. It took me a slow second to miss the thud it should have made against the floor.

Edward had caught it and thrown it onto the counter. His arms were already around me, his lips at my ear.

“What’s wrong?”

I shook my head, dazed.

Three days could change everything.

Hadn’t I just been thinking about how impossible college was? How I couldn’t be anywhere near people after I’d gone through the painful three-day conversion that would set me free from mortality, so that I could spend eternity with Edward? The conversion that would make me forever a prisoner to my own thirst. . . .

Had Charlie told Billy that I’d vanished for three days? Had Billy jumped to conclusions? Had Jacob really been asking me if I was still human? Making sure that the werewolves’ treaty was unbroken — that none of the Cullens had dared to bite a human . . . bite, not kill . . . ?

But did he honestly think I would come home to Charlie if that was the case?

Edward shook me. “Bella?” he asked, truly anxious now.

“I think . . . I think he was checking,” I mumbled. “Checking to make sure. That I’m human, I mean.”

Edward stiffened, and a low hiss sounded in my ear.

“We’ll have to leave,” I whispered. “Before. So that it doesn’t break the treaty. We won’t ever be able to come back.”

His arms tightened around me. “I know.”

“Ahem.” Charlie cleared his voice loudly behind us.

I jumped, and then pulled free of Edward’s arms, my face getting hot. Edward leaned back against the counter. His eyes were tight. I could see worry in them, and anger.

“If you don’t want to make dinner, I can call for a pizza,” Charlie hinted.

“No, that’s okay, I’m already started.”

“Okay,” Charlie said. He propped himself against the doorframe, folding his arms.

I sighed and got to work, trying to ignore my audience.

“If I asked you to do something, would you trust me?” Edward asked, an edge to his soft voice.

We were almost to school. Edward had been relaxed and joking just a moment ago, and now suddenly his hands were clenched tight on the steering wheel, his knuckles straining in an effort not to snap it into pieces.

I stared at his anxious expression — his eyes were far away, like he was listening to distant voices.

My pulse sped in response to his stress, but I answered carefully. “That depends.”

We pulled into the school lot.

“I was afraid you would say that.”

“What do you want me to do, Edward?”

“I want you to stay in the car.” He pulled into his usual spot and turned the engine off as he spoke. “I want you to wait here until I come back for you.”

“But . . . why?”

That was when I saw him. He would have been hard to miss, towering over the students the way he did, even if he hadn’t been leaning against his black motorcycle, parked illegally on the sidewalk.

“Oh.”

Jacob’s face was a calm mask that I recognized well. It was the face he used when he was determined to keep his emotions in check, to keep himself under control. It made him look like Sam, the oldest of the wolves, the leader of the Quileute pack. But Jacob could never quite manage the perfect serenity Sam always exuded.

I’d forgotten how much this face bothered me. Though I’d gotten to know Sam pretty well before the Cullens had come back — to like him, even — I’d never been able to completely shake the resentment I felt when Jacob mimicked Sam’s expression. It was a stranger’s face. He wasn’t my Jacob when he wore it.

“You jumped to the wrong conclusion last night,” Edward murmured. “He asked about school because he knew that I would be where you were. He was looking for a safe place to talk to me. A place with witnesses.”

So I’d misinterpreted Jacob’s motives last night. Missing information, that was the problem. Information like why in the world Jacob would want to talk to Edward.

“I’m not staying in the car,” I said.

Edward groaned quietly. “Of course not. Well, let’s get this over with.”

Jacob’s face hardened as we walked toward him, hand in hand.

I noticed other faces, too — the faces of my classmates. I noticed how their eyes widened as they took in all six foot seven inches of Jacob’s long body, muscled up the way no normal sixteen-and-a-half-year-old ever had been. I saw those eyes rake over his tight black t-shirt — short-sleeved, though the day was unseasonably cool — his ragged, grease-smeared jeans, and the glossy black bike he leaned against. Their eyes didn’t linger on his face — something about his expression had them glancing quickly away. And I noticed the wide berth everyone gave him, the bubble of space that no one dared to encroach on.

With a sense of astonishment, I realized that Jacob looked dangerous to them. How odd.

Edward stopped a few yards away from Jacob, and I could tell that he was uncomfortable having me so close to a werewolf. He drew his hand back slightly, pulling me halfway behind his body.

“You could have called us,” Edward said in a steel-hard voice.

“Sorry,” Jacob answered, his face twisting into a sneer. “I don’t have any leeches on my speed dial.”

“You could have reached me at Bella’s house, of course.”

Jacob’s jaw flexed, and his brows pulled together. He didn’t answer.

“This is hardly the place, Jacob. Could we discuss this later?”

“Sure, sure. I’ll stop by your crypt after school.” Jacob snorted. “What’s wrong with now?”

Edward looked around pointedly, his eyes resting on the witnesses who were just barely out of hearing range. A few people were hesitating on the sidewalk, their eyes bright with expectation. Like they were hoping a fight might break out to alleviate the tedium of another Monday morning. I saw Tyler Crowley nudge Austin Marks, and they both paused on their way to class.

“I already know what you came to say,” Edward reminded Jacob in voice so low that I could barely make it out. “Message delivered. Consider us warned.”

Edward glanced down at me for a fleeting second with worried eyes.

“Warned?” I asked blankly. “What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t tell her?” Jacob asked, his eyes widening with disbelief. “What, were you afraid she’d take our side?”

“Please drop it, Jacob,” Edward said in an even voice.

“Why?” Jacob challenged.

I frowned in confusion. “What don’t I know? Edward?”

Edward just glared at Jacob as if he hadn’t heard me.

“Jake?”

4. NATURE

I WAS HAVING A BAD WEEK.

I knew that essentially nothing had changed. Okay, so Victoria had not given up, but had I ever dreamed for one moment that she had? Her reappearance had only confirmed what I’d already known. No reason for fresh panic.

In theory. Not panicking was easier said than done.

Graduation was only a few weeks away, but I wondered if it wasn’t a little foolish to sit around, weak and tasty, waiting for the next disaster. It seemed too dangerous to be human — just begging for trouble. Someone like me shouldn’t be human. Someone with my luck ought to be a little less helpless.

But no one would listen to me.

Carlisle had said, “There are seven of us, Bella. And with Alice on our side, I don’t think Victoria’s going to catch us off guard. I think it’s important, for Charlie’s sake, that we stick with the original plan.”

Esme had said, “We’d never allow anything to happen to you, sweetheart. You know that. Please don’t be anxious.” And then she’d kissed my forehead.

Emmett had said, “I’m really glad Edward didn’t kill you. Everything’s so much more fun with you around.”

Rosalie had glared at him.

Alice had rolled her eyes and said, “I’m offended. You’re not honestly worried about this, are you?”

“If it’s no big deal, then why did Edward drag me to Florida?” I’d demanded.

“Haven’t you noticed yet, Bella, that Edward is just the teeniest bit prone to overreaction?”

Jasper had silently erased all the panic and tension in my body with his curious talent of controlling emotional atmospheres. I’d felt reassured, and let them talk me out of my desperate pleading.

Of course, that calm had worn off as soon as Edward and I had walked out of the room.

So the consensus was that I was just supposed to forget that a deranged vampire was stalking me, intent on my death. Go about my business.

I did try. And surprisingly, there were other things almost as stressful to dwell on besides my status on the endangered species list. . . .

Because Edward’s response had been the most frustrating of them all.

“That’s between you and Carlisle,” he’d said. “Of course, you know that I’m willing to make it between you and me at any time that you wish. You know my condition.” And he had smiled angelically.

Ugh. I did know his condition. Edward had promised that he would change me himself whenever I wanted . . . just as long as I was married to him first.

Sometimes I wondered if he was only pretending that he couldn’t read my mind. How else had he struck upon the one condition that I would have trouble accepting? The one condition that would slow me down.

All in all, a very bad week. And today was the worst day in it.

It was always a bad day when Edward was away. Alice had foreseen nothing out of the ordinary this weekend, and so I’d insisted that he take the opportunity to go hunting with his brothers. I knew how it bored him to hunt the easy, nearby prey.

“Go have fun,” I’d told him. “Bag a few mountain lions for me.”

I would never admit to him how hard it was for me when he was gone — how it brought back the abandonment nightmares. If he knew that, it would make him feel horrible and he would be afraid to ever leave me, even for the most necessary reasons. It had been like that in the beginning, when he’d first returned from Italy. His golden eyes had turned black and he’d suffered from his thirst more than it was already necessary that he suffer. So I put on a brave face and all but kicked him out the door whenever Emmett and Jasper wanted to go.

I think he saw through me, though. A little. This morning there had been a note left on my pillow:

I’ll be back so soon you won’t have time to miss me. Look after my heart — I’ve left it with you.

So now I had a big empty Saturday with nothing but my morning shift at Newton’s Olympic Outfitters to distract me. And, of course, the oh-so-comforting promise from Alice.

“I’m staying close to home to hunt. I’ll only be fifteen minutes away if you need me. I’ll keep an eye out for trouble.”

Translation: don’t try anything funny just because Edward is gone.

Alice was certainly just as capable of crippling my truck as Edward was.

I tried to look on the bright side. After work, I had plans to help Angela with her announcements, so that would be a distraction. And Charlie was in an excellent mood due to Edward’s absence, so I might as well enjoy that while it lasted. Alice would spend the night with me if I was pathetic enough to ask her to. And then tomorrow, Edward would be home. I would survive.

Not wanting to be ridiculously early for work, I ate my breakfast slowly, one Cheerio at a time. Then, when I’d washed the dishes, I arranged the magnets on the fridge into a perfect line. Maybe I was developing obsessive-compulsive disorder.

The last two magnets — round black utilitarian pieces that were my favorites because they could hold ten sheets of paper to the fridge without breaking a sweat — did not want to cooperate with my fixation. Their polarities were reversed; every time I tried to line the last one up, the other jumped out of place.

For some reason — impending mania, perhaps — this really irritated me. Why couldn’t they just play nice? Stupid with stubbornness, I kept shoving them together as if I was expecting them to suddenly give up. I could have flipped one over, but that felt like losing. Finally, exasperated at myself more than the magnets, I pulled them from the fridge and held them together with two hands. It took a little effort — they were strong enough to put up a fight — but I forced them to coexist side-by-side.

“See,” I said out loud — talking to inanimate objects, never a good sign — “That’s not so horrible, is it?”

I stood there like an idiot for a second, not quite able to admit that I wasn’t having any lasting effect against scientific principles. Then, with a sigh, I put the magnets back on the fridge, a foot apart.

“There’s no need to be so inflexible,” I muttered.

It was still too early, but I decided I’d better get out of the house before the inanimate objects started talking back.

When I got to Newton’s, Mike was methodically dry mopping the aisles while his mom arranged a new counter display. I caught them in the middle of an argument, unaware that I had arrived.

“But it’s the only time that Tyler can go,” Mike complained. “You said after graduation —”

“You’re just going to have to wait,” Mrs. Newton snapped. “You and Tyler can think of something else to do. You are not going to Seattle until the police stop whatever it is that is going on there. I know Beth Crowley has told Tyler the same thing, so don’t act like I’m the bad guy — oh, good morning, Bella,” she said when she caught sight of me, brightening her tone quickly. “You’re early.”

Karen Newton was the last person I’d think to ask for help in an outdoor sports equipment store. Her perfectly highlighted blond hair was always smoothed into an elegant twist on the back of her neck, her fingernails were polished by professionals, as were her toenails — visible through the strappy high heels that didn’t resemble anything Newton’s offered on the long row of hiking boots.

“Light traffic,” I joked as I grabbed my hideous fluorescent orange vest out from under the counter. I was surprised that Mrs. Newton was as worked up about this Seattle thing as Charlie. I’d thought he was going to extremes.

“Well, er . . .” Mrs. Newton hesitated for a moment, playing uncomfortably with a stack of flyers she was arranging by the register.

I stopped with one arm in my vest. I knew that look.

When I’d let the Newtons know that I wouldn’t be working here this summer — abandoning them in their busiest season, in effect — they’d started training Katie Marshall to take my place. They couldn’t really afford both of us on the payroll at the same time, so when it looked like a slow day . . .

“I was going to call,” Mrs. Newton continued. “I don’t think we’re expecting a ton of business today. Mike and I can probably handle things. I’m sorry you got up and drove out. . . .”

On a normal day, I would be ecstatic with this turn of events. Today . . . not so much.

“Okay,” I sighed. My shoulders slumped. What was I going to do now?

“That’s not fair, Mom,” Mike said. “If Bella wants to work —”

“No, it’s okay, Mrs. Newton. Really, Mike. I’ve got finals to study for and stuff. . . .” I didn’t want to be a source of familial discord when they were already arguing.

“Thanks, Bella. Mike, you missed aisle four. Um, Bella, do you mind throwing these flyers in a Dumpster on the way out? I told the girl who left them here that I’d put them on the counter, but I really don’t have the room.”

“Sure, no problem.” I put my vest away, and then tucked the flyers under my arm and headed out into the misty rain.

The Dumpster was around the side of Newton’s, next to where we employees were supposed to park. I shuffled along, kicking pebbles petulantly on my way. I was about to fling the stack of bright yellow papers into the trash when the heading printed in bold across the top caught my eye. One word in particular seized my attention.

I clutched the papers in both hands as I stared at the picture beneath the caption. A lump rose in my throat.

SAVE THE OLYMPIC WOLF

Under the words, there was a detailed drawing of a wolf in front of a fir tree, its head thrown back in the act of baying at the moon. It was a disconcerting picture; something about the wolf’s plaintive posture made him look forlorn. Like he was howling in grief.

And then I was running to my truck, the flyers still locked in my grip.

Fifteen minutes — that’s all I had. But it should be long enough. It was only fifteen minutes to La Push, and surely I would cross the boundary line a few minutes before I hit the town.

My truck roared to life without any difficulty.

Alice couldn’t have seen me doing this, because I hadn’t been planning it. A snap decision, that was the key! And as long as I moved fast enough, I should be able to capitalize on it.

I’d thrown the damp flyers in my haste and they were scattered in a bright mess across the passenger seat — a hundred bolded captions, a hundred dark howling wolves outlined against the yellow background.

I barreled down the wet highway, turning the windshield wipers on high and ignoring the groan of the ancient engine. Fifty-five was the most I could coax out of my truck, and I prayed it would be enough.

I had no clue where the boundary line was, but I began to feel safer as I passed the first houses outside La Push. This must be beyond where Alice was allowed to follow.

I’d call her when I got to Angela’s this afternoon, I reasoned, so that she’d know I was fine. There was no reason for her to get worked up. She didn’t need to be mad at me — Edward would be angry enough for two when he got back.

My truck was positively wheezing by the time it grated to a stop in front of the familiar faded red house. The lump came back to my throat as I stared at the little place that had once been my refuge. It had been so long since I’d been here.

Before I could cut the engine, Jacob was standing in the door, his face blank with shock.

In the sudden silence when the truck-roar died, I heard him gasp.

“Bella?”

“Hey, Jake!”

“Bella!” he yelled back, and the smile I’d been waiting for stretched across his face like the sun breaking free of the clouds. His teeth gleamed bright against his russet skin. “I can’t believe it!”

He ran to the truck and half-yanked me through the open door, and then we were both jumping up and down like kids.

“How did you get here?”

“I snuck out!”

“Awesome!”

“Hey, Bella!” Billy had rolled himself into the doorway to see what all the commotion was about.

“Hey, Bil —!”

Just then my air choked off — Jacob grabbed me up in a bear hug too tight to breathe and swung me around in a circle.

“Wow, it’s good to see you here!”

“Can’t . . . breathe,” I gasped.

He laughed and put me down.

“Welcome back, Bella,” he said, grinning. And the way he said the words made it sound like welcome home.

We started walking, too keyed up to sit still in the house. Jacob was practically bouncing as he moved, and I had to remind him a few times that my legs weren’t ten feet long.

As we walked, I felt myself settling into another version of myself, the self I had been with Jacob. A little younger, a little less responsible. Someone who might, on occasion, do something really stupid for no good reason.

Our exuberance lasted through the first few topics of conversation: how we were doing, what we were up to, how long I had, and what had brought me here. When I hesitantly told him about the wolf flyer, his bellowing laugh echoed back from the trees.

But then, as we ambled past the back of the store and shoved through the thick scrub that ringed the far edge of First Beach, we got to the hard parts. All too soon we had to talk about the reasons behind our long separation, and I watched as the face of my friend hardened into the bitter mask that was already too familiar.

“So what’s the story, anyway?” Jacob asked me, kicking a piece of driftwood out of his way with too much force. It sailed over the sand and then clattered against the rocks. “I mean, since the last time we . . . well, before, you know . . .” He struggled for the words. He took a deep breath and tried again. “What I’m asking is . . . everything is just back to the way it was before he left? You forgave him for all of that?”

I took a deep breath. “There was nothing to forgive.”

I wanted to skip past this part, the betrayals, the accusations, but I knew that we had to talk it through before we’d be able to move on to anything else.

Jacob’s face puckered up like he’d just licked a lemon. “I wish Sam had taken a picture when he found you that night last September. It would be exhibit A.”

“Nobody’s on trial.”

“Maybe somebody should be.”

“Not even you would blame him for leaving, if you knew the reason why.”

He glared at me for a few seconds. “Okay,” he challenged acidly. “Amaze me.”

His hostility was wearing on me — chafing against the raw; it hurt to have him angry with me. It reminded me of the bleak afternoon, long ago, when — under orders from Sam — he’d told me we couldn’t be friends. I took a second to compose myself.

“Edward left me last fall because he didn’t think I should be hanging out with vampires. He thought it would be healthier for me if he left.”

Jacob did a double take. He had to scramble for a minute. Whatever he’d been planning to say, it clearly no longer applied. I was glad he didn’t know the catalyst behind Edward’s decision. I could only imagine what he’d think if he knew Jasper had tried to kill me.

“He came back, though, didn’t he?” Jacob muttered. “Too bad he can’t stick to a decision.”

“If you remember, I went and got him.”

Jacob stared at me for a moment, and then he backed off. His face relaxed, and his voice was calmer when he spoke.

“That’s true. So I never did get the story. What happened?”

I hesitated, biting my lip.

“Is it a secret?” His voice took on a taunting edge. “Are you not allowed to tell me?”

“No,” I snapped. “It’s just a really long story.”

Jacob smiled, arrogant, and turned to walk up the beach, expecting me to follow.

It was no fun being with Jacob if he was going to act like this. I trailed behind him automatically, not sure if I shouldn’t turn around and leave. I was going to have to face Alice, though, when I got home. . . . I supposed I wasn’t in any rush.

Jacob walked to a huge, familiar piece of driftwood — an entire tree, roots and all, bleached white and beached deep in the sand; it was our tree, in a way.

Jacob sat down on the natural bench, and patted the space next to him.

“I don’t mind long stories. Is there any action?”

I rolled my eyes as I sat next to him. “There’s some action,” I allowed.

“It wouldn’t be real horror without action.”

“Horror!” I scoffed. “Can you listen, or will you be interrupting me with rude comments about my friends?”

He pretended to lock his lips and then threw the invisible key over his shoulder. I tried not to smile, and failed.

5. IMPRINT

“ARE YOU OKAY, JAKE? CHARLIE SAID YOU WERE HAVING a hard time. . . . Isn’t it getting any better?”

His warm hand curled around mine. “’S not so bad,” he said, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes.

He walked slowly back to the driftwood bench, staring at the rainbow-colored pebbles, and pulling me along at his side. I sat back down on our tree, but he sat on the wet, rocky ground rather than next to me. I wondered if it was so that he could hide his face more easily. He kept my hand.

I started babbling to fill the silence. “It’s been so long since I was here. I’ve probably missed a ton of things. How are Sam and Emily? And Embry? Did Quil —?”

I broke off mid-sentence, remembering that Jacob’s friend Quil had been a sensitive subject.

“Ah, Quil,” Jacob sighed.

So then it must have happened — Quil must have joined the pack.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled.

To my surprise, Jacob snorted. “Don’t say that to him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Quil’s not looking for pity. Just the opposite — he’s jazzed. Totally thrilled.”

This made no sense to me. All the other wolves had been so depressed at the idea of their friend sharing their fate. “Huh?”

Jacob tilted his head back to look at me. He smiled and rolled his eyes.

“Quil thinks it’s the coolest thing that’s ever happened to him. Part of it is finally knowing what’s going on. And he’s excited to have his friends back — to be part of the ‘in crowd.’” Jacob snorted again. “Shouldn’t be surprised, I guess. It’s so Quil.”

“He likes it?”

“Honestly . . . most of them do,” Jacob admitted slowly. “There are definitely good sides to this — the speed, the freedom, the strength . . . the sense of — of family. . . . Sam and I are the only ones who ever felt really bitter. And Sam got past that a long time ago. So I’m the crybaby now.” Jacob laughed at himself.

There were so many things I wanted to know. “Why are you and Sam different? What happened to Sam anyway? What’s his problem?” The questions tumbled out without room to answer them, and Jacob laughed again.

“That’s a long story.”

“I told you a long story. Besides, I’m not in any hurry to get back,” I said, and then I grimaced as I thought of the trouble I would be in.

He looked up at me swiftly, hearing the double edge in my words. “Will he be mad at you?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “He really hates it when I do things he considers . . . risky.”

“Like hanging out with werewolves.”

“Yeah.”

Jacob shrugged. “So don’t go back. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“That’s a great idea,” I grumbled. “Because then he would come looking for me.”

Jacob stiffened, and then smiled bleakly. “Would he?”

“If he was afraid I was hurt or something — probably.”

“My idea’s sounding better all the time.”

“Please, Jake. That really bugs me.”

“What does?”

“That you two are so ready to kill each other!” I complained. “It makes me crazy. Why can’t you both just be civilized?”

“Is he ready to kill me?” Jacob asked with a grim smile, unconcerned by my anger.

“Not like you seem to be!” I realized I was yelling. “At least he can be a grown-up about this. He knows that hurting you would hurt me — and so he never would. You don’t seem to care about that at all!”

“Yeah, right,” Jacob muttered. “I’m sure he’s quite the pacifist.”

“Ugh!” I ripped my hand out of his and shoved his head away. Then I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms tightly around them.

I glared out toward the horizon, fuming.

Jacob was quiet for a few minutes. Finally, he got up off the ground and sat beside me, putting his arm around my shoulders. I shook it off.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “I’ll try to behave myself.”

I didn’t answer.

“Do you still want to hear about Sam?” he offered.

I shrugged.

“Like I said, it’s a long story. And very . . . strange. There’re so many strange things about this new life. I haven’t had time to tell you the half of it. And this thing with Sam — well, I don’t know if I’ll even be able to explain it right.”

His words pricked my curiosity in spite of my irritation.

“I’m listening,” I said stiffly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the side of his face pull up in a smile.

“Sam had it so much harder than the rest of us. Because he was the first, and he was alone, and he didn’t have anyone to tell him what was happening. Sam’s grandfather died before he was born, and his father has never been around. There was no one there to recognize the signs. The first time it happened — the first time he phased — he thought he’d gone insane. It took him two weeks to calm down enough to change back.

“This was before you came to Forks, so you wouldn’t remember. Sam’s mother and Leah Clearwater had the forest rangers searching for him, the police. People thought there had been an accident or something. . . .”

“Leah?” I asked, surprised. Leah was Harry’s daughter. Hearing her name sent an automatic surge of pity through me. Harry Clearwater, Charlie’s life-long friend, had died of a heart attack this past spring.

His voice changed, became heavier. “Yeah. Leah and Sam were high school sweethearts. They started dating when she was just a freshman. She was frantic when he disappeared.”

“But he and Emily —”

“I’ll get to that — it’s part of the story,” he said. He inhaled slowly, and then exhaled in a gust.

I supposed it was silly for me to imagine that Sam had never loved anyone before Emily. Most people fall in and out of love many times in their lives. It was just that I’d seen Sam with Emily, and I couldn’t imagine him with someone else. The way he looked at her . . . well, it reminded me of a look I’d seen sometimes in Edward’s eyes — when he was looking at me.

“Sam came back,” Jacob said, “but he wouldn’t talk to anyone about where he’d been. Rumors flew — that he was up to no good, mostly. And then Sam happened to run in to Quil’s grandfather one afternoon when Old Quil Ateara came to visit Mrs. Uley. Sam shook his hand. Old Quil just about had a stroke.” Jacob paused to laugh.

“Why?”

Jacob put his hand on my cheek and pulled my face around to look at him — he was leaning toward me, his face was just a few inches away. His palm burned my skin, like he had a fever.

“Oh, right,” I said. It was uncomfortable, having my face so close to his with his hand hot against my skin. “Sam was running a temperature.”

Jacob laughed again. “Sam’s hand felt like he’d left it sitting on a hot stovetop.”

He was so close, I could feel his warm breath. I reached up casually, to take his hand away and free my face, but wound my fingers through his so that I wouldn’t hurt his feelings. He smiled and leaned back, undeceived by my attempt at nonchalance.

“So Mr. Ateara went straight to the other elders,” Jacob went on. “They were the only ones left who still knew, who remembered. Mr. Ateara, Billy, and Harry had actually seen their grandfathers make the change. When Old Quil told them, they met with Sam secretly and explained.

“It was easier when he understood — when he wasn’t alone anymore. They knew he wouldn’t be the only one affected by the Cullens’ return” — he pronounced the name with unconscious bitterness — “but no one else was old enough. So Sam waited for the rest of us to join him. . . .”

“The Cullens had no idea,” I said in a whisper. “They didn’t think that werewolves still existed here. They didn’t know that coming here would change you.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that it did.”

“Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“You think I should be as forgiving as you are? We can’t all be saints and martyrs.”

“Grow up, Jacob.”

“I wish I could,” he murmured quietly.

I stared at him, trying to make sense of his response. “What?”

Jacob chuckled. “One of those many strange things I mentioned.”

“You . . . can’t . . . grow up?” I said blankly. “You’re what? Not . . . aging? Is that a joke?”

“Nope.” He popped his lips on the P.

I felt blood flood my face. Tears — tears of rage — filled my eyes. My teeth mashed together with an audible grinding sound.

“Bella? What did I say?”

I was on my feet again, my hands balled up into fists, my whole frame shaking.

“You. Are. Not. Aging,” I growled through my teeth.

Jacob tugged my arm gently, trying to make me sit. “None of us are. What’s wrong with you?”

“Am I the only one who has to get old? I get older every stinking day!” I nearly shrieked, throwing my hands in the air. Some little part of me recognized that I was throwing a Charlie-esque fit, but that rational part was greatly overshadowed by the irrational part. “Damn it! What kind of world is this? Where’s the justice?”

“Take it easy, Bella.”

“Shut up, Jacob. Just shut up! This is so unfair!”

“Did you seriously just stamp your foot? I thought girls only did that on TV.”

I growled unimpressively.

“It’s not as bad as you seem to think it is. Sit down and I’ll explain.”

“I’ll stand.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay. Whatever you want. But listen, I will get older . . . someday.”

“Explain.”

He patted the tree. I glowered for a second, but then sat; my temper had burned out as suddenly as it had flared and I’d calmed down enough to realize that I was making a fool of myself.

“When we get enough control to quit . . . ,” Jacob said. “When we stop phasing for a solid length of time, we age again. It’s not easy.” He shook his head, abruptly doubtful. “It’s gonna take a really long time to learn that kind of restraint, I think. Even Sam’s not there yet. ’Course it doesn’t help that there’s a huge coven of vampires right down the road. We can’t even think about quitting when the tribe needs protectors. But you shouldn’t get all bent out of shape about it, anyway, because I’m already older than you, physically at least.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Look at me, Bells. Do I look sixteen?”

I glanced up and down his mammoth frame, trying to be unbiased. “Not exactly, I guess.”

“Not at all. Because we reach full growth inside of a few months when the werewolf gene gets triggered. It’s one hell of a growth spurt.” He made a face. “Physically, I’m probably twenty-five or something. So there’s no need for you to freak out about being too old for me for at least another seven years.”

Twenty-five or something. The idea messed with my head. But I remembered that growth spurt — I remembered watching him shoot up and fill out right before my eyes. I remembered how he would look different from one day to the next. . . . I shook my head, feeling dizzy.

“So, did you want to hear about Sam, or did you want to scream at me some more for things that are out of my control?”

I took a deep breath. “Sorry. Age is a touchy subject for me. That hit a nerve.”

Jacob’s eyes tightened, and he looked as if he were trying to decide how to word something.

Since I didn’t want to talk about the truly touchy stuff — my plans for the future, or treaties that might be broken by said plans, I prompted him. “So once Sam understood what was going on, once he had Billy and Harry and Mr. Ateara, you said it wasn’t so hard anymore. And, like you also said, there are the cool parts. . . .” I hesitated briefly. “Why does Sam hate them so much? Why does he wish I would hate them?”

Jacob sighed. “This is the really weird part.”

“I’m a pro at weird.”

“Yeah, I know.” He grinned before he continued. “So, you’re right. Sam knew what was going on, and everything was almost okay. In most ways, his life was back to, well, not normal. But better.” Then Jacob’s expression tightened, like something painful was coming. “Sam couldn’t tell Leah. We aren’t supposed to tell anyone who doesn’t have to know. And it wasn’t really safe for him to be around her — but he cheated, just like I did with you. Leah was furious that he wouldn’t tell her what was going on — where he’d been, where he went at night, why he was always so exhausted — but they were working it out. They were trying. They really loved each other.”

“Did she find out? Is that what happened?”

He shook his head. “No, that wasn’t the problem. Her cousin, Emily Young, came down from the Makah reservation to visit her one weekend.”

I gasped. “Emily is Leah’s cousin?”

“Second cousins. They’re close, though. They were like sisters when they were kids.”

“That’s . . . horrible. How could Sam . . . ?” I trailed off, shaking my head.

“Don’t judge him just yet. Did anyone ever tell you . . . Have you ever heard of imprinting?”

“Imprinting?” I repeated the unfamiliar word. “No. What’s that mean?”

“It’s one of those bizarre things we have to deal with. It doesn’t happen to everyone. In fact, it’s the rare exception, not the rule. Sam had heard all the stories by then, the stories we all used to think were legends. He’d heard of imprinting, but he never dreamed . . .”

“What is it?” I prodded.

Jacob’s eyes strayed to the ocean. “Sam did love Leah. But when he saw Emily, that didn’t matter anymore. Sometimes . . . we don’t exactly know why . . . we find our mates that way.” His eyes flashed back to me, his face reddening. “I mean . . . our soul mates.”

“What way? Love at first sight?” I snickered.

Jacob wasn’t smiling. His dark eyes were critical of my reaction. “It’s a little bit more powerful than that. More absolute.”

“Sorry,” I muttered. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Love at first sight? But more powerful?” My voice still sounded dubious, and he could hear that.

6. SWITZERLAND

AS I DROVE HOME, I WASN’T PAYING MUCH ATTENTION TO the road that shimmered wetly in the sun. I was thinking about the flood of information Jacob had shared with me, trying to sort it out, to force it all to make sense. Despite the overload, I felt lighter. Seeing Jacob smile, having all the secrets thrashed out . . . it didn’t make things perfect, but it made them better. I was right to have gone. Jacob needed me. And obviously, I thought as I squinted into the glare, there was no danger.

It came out of nowhere. One minute there was nothing but bright highway in my rearview mirror. The next minute, the sun was glinting off a silver Volvo right on my tail.

“Aw, crap,” I whimpered.

I considered pulling over. But I was too much of a coward to face him right away. I’d been counting on some prep time . . . and having Charlie nearby as a buffer. At least that would force him to keep his voice down.

The Volvo followed inches behind me. I kept my eyes on the road ahead.

Chicken through and through, I drove straight to Angela’s without once meeting the gaze I could feel burning a hole in my mirror.

He followed me until I pulled to the curb in front of the Webers’ house. He didn’t stop, and I didn’t look up as he passed. I didn’t want to see the expression on his face. I ran up the short concrete walk to Angela’s door as soon as he was out of sight.

Ben answered the door before I could finish knocking, like he’d been standing right behind it.

“Hey, Bella!” he said, surprised.

“Hi, Ben. Er, is Angela here?” I wondered if Angela had forgotten our plans, and cringed at the thought of going home early.

“Sure,” Ben said just as Angela called, “Bella!” and appeared at the top of the stairs.

Ben peered around me as we both heard the sound of a car on the road; the sound didn’t scare me — this engine stuttered to a stop, followed by the loud pop of a backfire. Nothing like the purr of the Volvo. This must be the visitor Ben had been waiting for.

“Austin’s here,” Ben said as Angela reached his side.

A horn honked on the street.

“I’ll see you later,” Ben promised. “Miss you already.”

He threw his arm around Angela’s neck and pulled her face down to his height so that he could kiss her enthusiastically. After a second of this, Austin honked again.

“’Bye, Ang! Love you!” Ben shouted as he dashed past me.

Angela swayed, her face slightly pink, then recovered herself and waved until Ben and Austin were out of sight. Then she turned to me and grinned ruefully.

“Thank you for doing this, Bella,” she said. “From the bottom of my heart. Not only are you saving my hands from permanent injury, you also just spared me two long hours of a plot-less, badly dubbed martial arts film.” She sighed in relief.

“Happy to be of service.” I was feeling a bit less panicked, able to breathe a little more evenly. It felt so ordinary here. Angela’s easy human dramas were oddly reassuring. It was nice to know that life was normal somewhere.

I followed Angela up the stairs to her room. She kicked toys out of the way as she went. The house was unusually quiet.

“Where’s your family?”

“My parents took the twins to a birthday party in Port Angeles. I can’t believe you’re really going to help me with this. Ben’s pretending he has tendonitis.” She made a face.

“I don’t mind at all,” I said, and then I walked into Angela’s room and saw the stacks of waiting envelopes.

“Oh!” I gasped. Angela turned to look at me, apologies in her eyes. I could see why she’d been putting this off, and why Ben had weaseled out.

“I thought you were exaggerating,” I admitted.

“I wish. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Put me to work. I’ve got all day.”

Angela divided a pile in half and put her mother’s address book between us on her desk. For a while we concentrated, and there was just the sound of our pens scratching quietly across the paper.

“What’s Edward doing tonight?” she asked after a few minutes.

My pen dug into the envelope I was working on. “Emmet’s home for the weekend. They’re supposed to be hiking.”

“You say that like you’re not sure.”

I shrugged.

“You’re lucky Edward has his brothers for all the hiking and camping. I don’t know what I’d do if Ben didn’t have Austin for the guy stuff.”

“Yeah, the outdoors thing is not really for me. And there’s no way I’d ever be able to keep up.”

Angela laughed. “I prefer the indoors myself.”

She focused on her pile for a minute. I wrote out four more addresses. There was never any pressure to fill a pause with meaningless chatter around Angela. Like Charlie, she was comfortable with silence.

But, like Charlie, she was also too observant sometimes.

“Is something wrong?” she asked in a low voice now. “You seem . . . anxious.”

I smiled sheepishly. “Is it that obvious?”

“Not really.”

She was probably lying to make me feel better.

“You don’t have to talk about it unless you want to,” she assured me. “I’ll listen if you think it will help.”

I was about to say thanks, but no thanks. After all, there were just too many secrets I was bound to keep. I really couldn’t discuss my problems with someone human. That was against the rules.

And yet, with a strange, sudden intensity, that’s exactly what I wanted. I wanted to talk to a normal human girlfriend. I wanted to moan a little bit, like any other teenage girl. I wanted my problems to be that simple. It would also be nice to have someone outside the whole vampire-werewolf mess to put things in perspective. Someone unbiased.

“I’ll mind my own business,” Angela promised, smiling down at the address she was working on.

“No,” I said. “You’re right. I am anxious. It’s . . . it’s Edward.”

“What’s wrong?”

It was so easy to talk to Angela. When she asked a question like that, I could tell that she wasn’t just morbidly curious or looking for gossip, like Jessica would have been. She cared that I was upset.

“Oh, he’s mad at me.”

“That’s hard to imagine,” she said. “What’s he mad about?”

I sighed. “Do you remember Jacob Black?”

“Ah,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“He’s jealous.”

“No, not jealous . . .” I should have kept my mouth shut. There was no way to explain this right. But I wanted to keep talking anyway. I hadn’t realized I was so starved for human conversation. “Edward thinks Jacob is . . . a bad influence, I guess. Sort of . . . dangerous. You know how much trouble I got in a few months back. . . . It’s all ridiculous, though.”

I was surprised to see Angela shaking her head.

“What?” I asked.

“Bella, I’ve seen how Jacob Black looks at you. I’d bet the real problem is jealousy.”

“It’s not like that with Jacob.”

“For you, maybe. But for Jacob . . .”

I frowned. “Jacob knows how I feel. I’ve told him everything.”

“Edward’s only human, Bella. He’s going to react like any other boy.”

I grimaced. I didn’t have a response to that.

She patted my hand. “He’ll get over it.”

“I hope so. Jake’s going through kind of a tough time. He needs me.”

“You and Jacob are pretty close, aren’t you?”

“Like family,” I agreed.

“And Edward doesn’t like him. . . . That must be hard. I wonder how Ben would handle that?” she mused.

I half-smiled. “Probably just like any other boy.”

She grinned. “Probably.”

Then she changed the subject. Angela wasn’t one to pry, and she seemed to sense I wouldn’t — couldn’t — say any more.

“I got my dorm assignment yesterday. The farthest building from campus, naturally.”

“Does Ben know where he’s staying yet?”

“The closest dorm to campus. He’s got all the luck. How about you? Did you decide where you’re going?”

I stared down, concentrating on the clumsy scrawl of my handwriting. For a second I was distracted by the thought of Angela and Ben at the University of Washington. They would be off to Seattle in just a few months. Would it be safe then? Would the wild young vampire menace have moved elsewhere? Would there be a new place by then, some other city flinching from horror-movie headlines?

Would those new headlines be my fault?

I tried to shake it off and answered her question a beat late. “Alaska, I think. The university there in Juneau.”

I could hear the surprise in her voice. “Alaska? Oh. Really? I mean, that’s great. I just figured you’d go somewhere . . . warmer.”

I laughed a little, still staring at the envelope. “Yeah. Forks has really changed my perspective on life.”

“And Edward?”

Though his name set butterflies fluttering in my stomach, I looked up and grinned at her. “Alaska’s not too cold for Edward, either.”

She grinned back. “Of course not.” And then she sighed. “It’s so far. You won’t be able to come home very often. I’ll miss you. Will you e-mail me?”

A swell of quiet sadness crashed over me; maybe it was a mistake to get closer to Angela now. But wouldn’t it be sadder still to miss out on these last chances? I shook off the unhappy thoughts, so that I could answer her teasingly.

“If I can type again after this.” I nodded toward the stack of envelopes I’d done.

We laughed, and it was easy then to chat cheerfully about classes and majors while we finished the rest — all I had to do was not think about it. Anyway, there were more urgent things to worry about today.

I helped her put the stamps on, too. I was afraid to leave.

“How’s your hand?” she asked.

I flexed my fingers. “I think I’ll recover the full use of it . . . someday.”

The door banged downstairs, and we both looked up.

“Ang?” Ben called.

I tried to smile, but my lips trembled. “I guess that’s my cue to leave.”

“You don’t have to go. Though he’s probably going to describe the movie for me . . . in detail.”

“Charlie will be wondering where I am anyway.”

“Thanks for helping me.”

“I had a good time, actually. We should do something like this again. It was nice to have some girl time.”

“Definitely.”

There was a light knock on the bedroom door.

“Come in, Ben,” Angela said.

I got up and stretched.

“Hey, Bella! You survived,” Ben greeted me quickly before going to take my place by Angela. He eyed our work. “Nice job. Too bad there’s nothing left to do, I would have . . .” He let the thought trail off, and then restarted excitedly. “Ang, I can’t believe you missed this one! It was awesome. There was this final fight sequence — the choreography was unbelievable! This one guy — well, you’re going to have to see it to know what I’m talking about —”

Angela rolled her eyes at me.

“See you at school,” I said with a nervous laugh.

She sighed. “See you.”

I was jumpy on the way out to my truck, but the street was empty. I spent the whole drive glancing anxiously in all my mirrors, but there was never any sign of the silver car.

His car was not in front of the house, either, though that meant little.

“Bella?” Charlie called when I opened the front door.

“Hey, Dad.”

I found him in the living room, in front of the TV.

“So, how was your day?”

“Good,” I said. Might as well tell him everything — he’d hear it from Billy soon enough. Besides, it would make him happy. “They didn’t need me at work, so I went down to La Push.”

There wasn’t enough surprise in his face. Billy had already talked to him.

“How’s Jacob?” Charlie asked, attempting to sound indifferent.

“Good,” I said, just as casual.

“You get over to the Webers’?”

“Yep. We got all her announcements addressed.”

“That’s nice.” Charlie smiled a wide smile. He was strangely focused, considering that there was a game on. “I’m glad you spent some time with your friends today.”

“Me, too.”

I ambled toward the kitchen, looking for busy work. Unfortunately, Charlie had already cleaned up his lunch. I stood there for a few minutes, staring at the bright patch of light the sun made on the floor. But I knew I couldn’t delay this forever.

“I’m going to go study,” I announced glumly as I headed up the stairs.

“See you later,” Charlie called after me.

If I survive, I thought to myself.

I shut my bedroom door carefully before I turned to face my room.

Of course he was there. He stood against the wall across from me, in the shadow beside the open window. His face was hard and his posture tense. He glared at me wordlessly.

I cringed, waiting for the torrent, but it didn’t come. He just continued to glare, possibly too angry to speak.

“Hi,” I finally said.

His face could have been carved from stone. I counted to a hundred in my head, but there was no change.

“Er . . . so, I’m still alive,” I began.

A growl rumbled low in his chest, but his expression didn’t change.

“No harm done,” I insisted with a shrug.

He moved. His eyes closed, and he pinched the bridge of his nose between the fingers of his right hand.

“Bella,” he whispered. “Do you have any idea how close I came to crossing the line today? To breaking the treaty and coming after you? Do you know what that would have meant?”

I gasped and his eyes opened. They were as cold and hard as night.

“You can’t!” I said too loudly. I worked to modulate the volume of my voice so Charlie wouldn’t hear, but I wanted to shout the words. “Edward, they’d use any excuse for a fight. They’d love that. You can’t ever break the rules!”

“Maybe they aren’t the only ones who would enjoy a fight.”

“Don’t you start,” I snapped. “You made the treaty — you stick to it.”

“If he’d hurt you —”

“Enough!” I cut him off. “There’s nothing to worry about. Jacob isn’t dangerous.”

“Bella.” He rolled his eyes. “You aren’t exactly the best judge of what is or isn’t dangerous.”

“I know I don’t have to worry about Jake. And neither do you.”

He ground his teeth together. His hands were balled up in fists at his sides. He was still standing against the wall, and I hated the space between us.

I took a deep breath, and crossed the room. He didn’t move when I wrapped my arms around him. Next to the warmth of the last of the afternoon sun streaming through the window, his skin felt especially icy. He seemed like ice, too, frozen the way he was.

“I’m sorry I made you anxious,” I muttered.

He sighed, and relaxed a little. His arms wound around my waist.

“Anxious is a bit of an understatement,” he murmured. “It was a very long day.”

“You weren’t supposed to know about it,” I reminded him. “I thought you’d be hunting longer.”

7. UNHAPPY ENDING

ROSALIE HESITATED IN THE DOORWAY, HER BREATHTAKing face unsure.

“Of course,” I replied, my voice an octave high with surprise. “Come on in.”

I sat up, sliding to the end of the sofa to make room. My stomach twisted nervously as the one Cullen who did not like me moved silently to sit down in the open space. I tried to come up with a reason why she would want to see me, but my mind was a blank on that point.

“Do you mind talking to me for a few minutes?” she asked. “I didn’t wake you or anything, did I?” Her eyes shifted to the stripped bed and back to my couch.

“No, I was awake. Sure, we can talk.” I wondered if she could hear the alarm in my voice as clearly as I could.

She laughed lightly, and it sounded like a chorus of bells. “He so rarely leaves you alone,” she said. “I figured I’d better make the best of this opportunity.”

What did she want to say that couldn’t be said in front of Edward? My hands twisted and untwisted around the edge of the comforter.

“Please don’t think I’m horribly interfering,” Rosalie said, her voice gentle and almost pleading. She folded her hands in her lap and looked down at them as she spoke. “I’m sure I’ve hurt your feelings enough in the past, and I don’t want to do that again.”

“Don’t worry about it, Rosalie. My feelings are great. What is it?”

She laughed again, sounding oddly embarrassed. “I’m going to try to tell you why I think you should stay human — why I would stay human if I were you.”

“Oh.”

She smiled at the shocked tone of my voice, and then she sighed.

“Did Edward ever tell you what led to this?” she asked, gesturing to her glorious immortal body.

I nodded slowly, suddenly somber. “He said it was close to what happened to me that time in Port Angeles, only no one was there to save you.” I shuddered at the memory.

“Is that really all he told you?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said, my voice blank with confusion. “Was there more?”

She looked up at me and smiled; it was a harsh, bitter — but still stunning — expression.

“Yes,” she said. “There was more.”

I waited while she stared out the window. She seemed to be trying to calm herself.

“Would you like to hear my story, Bella? It doesn’t have a happy ending — but which of ours does? If we had happy endings, we’d all be under gravestones now.”

I nodded, though I was frightened by the edge in her voice.

“I lived in a different world than you do, Bella. My human world was a much simpler place. It was nineteen thirty-three. I was eighteen, and I was beautiful. My life was perfect.”

She stared out the window at the silver clouds, her expression far away.

“My parents were thoroughly middle class. My father had a stable job in a bank, something I realize now that he was smug about — he saw his prosperity as a reward for talent and hard work, rather than acknowledging the luck involved. I took it all for granted then; in my home, it was as if the Great Depression was only a troublesome rumor. Of course I saw the poor people, the ones who weren’t as lucky. My father left me with the impression that they’d brought their troubles on themselves.

“It was my mother’s job to keep our house — and myself and my two younger brothers — in spotless order. It was clear that I was both her first priority and her favorite. I didn’t fully understand at the time, but I was always vaguely aware that my parents weren’t satisfied with what they had, even if it was so much more than most. They wanted more. They had social aspirations — social climbers, I suppose you could call them. My beauty was like a gift to them. They saw so much more potential in it than I did.

“They weren’t satisfied, but I was. I was thrilled to be me, to be Rosalie Hale. Pleased that men’s eyes watched me everywhere I went, from the year I turned twelve. Delighted that my girlfriends sighed with envy when they touched my hair. Happy that my mother was proud of me and that my father liked to buy me pretty dresses.

“I knew what I wanted out of life, and there didn’t seem to be any way that I wouldn’t get exactly what I wanted. I wanted to be loved, to be adored. I wanted to have a huge, flowery wedding, where everyone in town would watch me walk down the aisle on my father’s arm and think I was the most beautiful thing they’d ever seen. Admiration was like air to me, Bella. I was silly and shallow, but I was content.” She smiled, amused at her own evaluation.

“My parents’ influence had been such that I also wanted the material things of life. I wanted a big house with elegant furnishings that someone else would clean and a modern kitchen that someone else would cook in. As I said, shallow. Young and very shallow. And I didn’t see any reason why I wouldn’t get these things.

“There were a few things I wanted that were more meaningful. One thing in particular. My very closest friend was a girl named Vera. She married young, just seventeen. She married a man my parents would never have considered for me — a carpenter. A year later she had a son, a beautiful little boy with dimples and curly black hair. It was the first time I’d ever felt truly jealous of anyone else in my entire life.”

She looked at me with unfathomable eyes. “It was a different time. I was the same age as you, but I was ready for it all. I yearned for my own little baby. I wanted my own house and a husband who would kiss me when he got home from work — just like Vera. Only I had a very different kind of house in mind. . . .”

It was hard for me to imagine the world that Rosalie had known. Her story sounded more like a fairy tale than history to me. With a slight shock, I realized that this was very close to the world that Edward would have experienced when he was human, the world he had grown up in. I wondered — while Rosalie sat silent for a moment — if my world seemed as baffling to him as Rosalie’s did to me?

Rosalie sighed, and when she spoke again her voice was different, the wistfulness gone.

“In Rochester, there was one royal family — the Kings, ironically enough. Royce King owned the bank my father worked at, and nearly every other really profitable business in town. That’s how his son, Royce King the Second” — her mouth twisted around the name, it came out through her teeth — “saw me the first time. He was going to take over at the bank, and so he began overseeing the different positions. Two days later, my mother conveniently forgot to send my father’s lunch to work with him. I remember being confused when she insisted that I wear my white organza and roll my hair up just to run over to the bank.” Rosalie laughed without humor.

“I didn’t notice Royce watching me particularly. Everyone watched me. But that night the first of the roses came. Every night of our courtship, he sent a bouquet of roses to me. My room was always overflowing with them. It got to the point that I would smell like roses when I left the house.

“Royce was handsome, too. He had lighter hair than I did, and pale blue eyes. He said my eyes were like violets, and then those started showing up alongside the roses.

“My parents approved — that’s putting it mildly. This was everything they’d dreamed of. And Royce seemed to be everything I’d dreamed of. The fairy tale prince, come to make me a princess. Everything I wanted, yet it was still no more than I expected. We were engaged before I’d known him for two months.

“We didn’t spend a great deal of time alone with each other. Royce told me he had many responsibilities at work, and, when we were together, he liked people to look at us, to see me on his arm. I liked that, too. There were lots of parties, dancing, and pretty dresses. When you were a King, every door was open for you, every red carpet rolled out to greet you.

“It wasn’t a long engagement. Plans went ahead for the most lavish wedding. It was going to be everything I’d ever wanted. I was completely happy. When I called at Vera’s, I no longer felt jealous. I pictured my fair-haired children playing on the huge lawns of the Kings’ estate, and I pitied her.”

Rosalie broke off suddenly, clenching her teeth together. It pulled me out of her story, and I realized that the horror was not far off. There would be no happy ending, as she’d promised. I wondered if this was why she had so much more bitterness in her than the rest of them — because she’d been within reach of everything she’d wanted when her human life was cut short.

“I was at Vera’s that night,” Rosalie whispered. Her face was smooth as marble, and as hard. “Her little Henry really was adorable, all smiles and dimples — he was just sitting up on his own. Vera walked me to the door as I was leaving, her baby in her arms and her husband at her side, his arm around her waist. He kissed her on the cheek when he thought I wasn’t looking. That bothered me. When Royce kissed me, it wasn’t quite the same — not so sweet somehow. . . . I shoved that thought aside. Royce was my prince. Someday, I would be queen.”

It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but it looked like her bone white face got paler.

“It was dark in the streets, the lamps already on. I hadn’t realized how late it was.” She continued to whisper almost inaudibly. “It was cold, too. Very cold for late April. The wedding was only a week away, and I was worrying about the weather as I hurried home — I can remember that clearly. I remember every detail about that night. I clung to it so hard . . . in the beginning. I thought of nothing else. And so I remember this, when so many pleasant memories have faded away completely. . . .”

She sighed, and began whispering again. “Yes, I was worrying about the weather. . . . I didn’t want to have to move the wedding indoors. . . .

“I was a few streets from my house when I heard them. A cluster of men under a broken streetlamp, laughing too loud. Drunk. I wished I’d called my father to escort me home, but the way was so short, it seemed silly. And then he called my name.

“‘Rose!’ he yelled, and the others laughed stupidly.

“I hadn’t realized the drunks were so well dressed. It was Royce and some of his friends, sons of other rich men.

“‘Here’s my Rose!’ Royce shouted, laughing with them, sounding just as stupid. ‘You’re late. We’re cold, you’ve kept us waiting so long.’”

“I’d never seen him drink before. A toast, now and then, at a party. He’d told me he didn’t like champagne. I hadn’t realized that he preferred something much stronger.

“He had a new friend — the friend of a friend, come up from Atlanta.

“‘What did I tell you, John,’ Royce crowed, grabbing my arm and pulling me closer. ‘Isn’t she lovelier than all your Georgia peaches?’

“The man named John was dark-haired and suntanned. He looked me over like I was a horse he was buying.

“‘It’s hard to tell,’ he drawled slowly. ‘She’s all covered up.’

“They laughed, Royce like the rest.

“Suddenly, Royce ripped my jacket from my shoulders — it was a gift from him — popping the brass buttons off. They scattered all over the street.

“‘Show him what you look like, Rose!’ He laughed again and then he tore my hat out of my hair. The pins wrenched my hair from the roots, and I cried out in pain. They seemed to enjoy that — the sound of my pain. . . .”

Rosalie looked at me suddenly, as if she’d forgotten I was there. I was sure my face was as white as hers. Unless it was green.

“I won’t make you listen to the rest,” she said quietly. “They left me in the street, still laughing as they stumbled away. They thought I was dead. They were teasing Royce that he would have to find a new bride. He laughed and said he’d have to learn some patience first.

“I waited in the road to die. It was cold, though there was so much pain that I was surprised it bothered me. It started to snow, and I wondered why I wasn’t dying. I was impatient for death to come, to end the pain. It was taking so long. . . .

“Carlisle found me then. He’d smelled the blood, and come to investigate. I remember being vaguely irritated as he worked over me, trying to save my life. I’d never liked Dr. Cullen or his wife and her brother — as Edward pretended to be then. It had upset me that they were all more beautiful than I was, especially that the men were. But they didn’t mingle in society, so I’d only seen them once or twice.

“I thought I’d died when he pulled me from the ground and ran with me — because of the speed — it felt like I was flying. I remembered being horrified that the pain didn’t stop. . . .

“Then I was in a bright room, and it was warm. I was slipping away, and I was grateful as the pain began to dull. But suddenly something sharp was cutting me, my throat, my wrists, my ankles. I screamed in shock, thinking he’d brought me there to hurt me more. Then fire started burning through me, and I didn’t care about anything else. I begged him to kill me. When Esme and Edward returned home, I begged them to kill me, too. Carlisle sat with me. He held my hand and said that he was so sorry, promising that it would end. He told me everything, and sometimes I listened. He told me what he was, what I was becoming. I didn’t believe him. He apologized each time I screamed.

“Edward wasn’t happy. I remember hearing them discuss me. I stopped screaming sometimes. It did no good to scream.

“‘What were you thinking, Carlisle?’ Edward said. ‘Rosalie Hale?’” Rosalie imitated Edward’s irritated tone to perfection. “I didn’t like the way he said my name, like there was something wrong with me.

“‘I couldn’t just let her die,’ Carlisle said quietly. ‘It was too much — too horrible, too much waste.’

“‘I know,’ Edward said, and I thought he sounded dismissive. It angered me. I didn’t know then that he really could see exactly what Carlisle had seen.

“‘It was too much waste. I couldn’t leave her,’ Carlisle repeated in a whisper.

“‘Of course you couldn’t,’ Esme agreed.

“‘People die all the time,’ Edward reminded him in a hard voice. ‘Don’t you think she’s just a little recognizable, though? The Kings will have to put up a huge search — not that anyone suspects the fiend,’ he growled.

“It pleased me that they seemed to know that Royce was guilty.

“I didn’t realize that it was almost over — that I was getting stronger and that was why I was able to concentrate on what they were saying. The pain was beginning to fade from my fingertips.

“‘What are we going to do with her?’ Edward said disgustedly — or that’s how it sounded to me, at least.

“Carlisle sighed. ‘That’s up to her, of course. She may want to go her own way.’

“I’d believed enough of what he’d told me that his words terrified me. I knew that my life was ended, and there was no going back for me. I couldn’t stand the thought of being alone. . . .

“The pain finally ended and they explained to me again what I was. This time I believed. I felt the thirst, my hard skin; I saw my brilliant red eyes.

“Shallow as I was, I felt better when I saw my reflection in the mirror the first time. Despite the eyes, I was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.” She laughed at herself for a moment. “It took some time before I began to blame the beauty for what had happened to me — for me to see the curse of it. To wish that I had been . . . well, not ugly, but normal. Like Vera. So I could have been allowed to marry someone who loved me, and have pretty babies. That’s what I’d really wanted, all along. It still doesn’t seem like too much to have asked for.”

She was thoughtful for a moment, and I wondered if she’d forgotten my presence again. But then she smiled at me, her expression suddenly triumphant.

8. TEMPER

WE ENDED UP ON THE BEACH AGAIN, WANDERING AIMlessly. Jacob was still full of himself for engineering my escape.

“Do you think they’ll come looking for you?” he asked, sounding hopeful.

“No.” I was certain about that. “They’re going to be furious with me tonight, though.”

He picked up a rock and chucked it into the waves. “Don’t go back, then,” he suggested again.

“Charlie would love that,” I said sarcastically.

“I bet he wouldn’t mind.”

I didn’t answer. Jacob was probably right, and that made me grind my teeth together. Charlie’s blatant preference for my Quileute friends was so unfair. I wondered if he would feel the same if he knew the choice was really between vampires and werewolves.

“So what’s the latest pack scandal?” I asked lightly.

Jacob skidded to a halt, and he stared down at me with shocked eyes.

“What? That was a joke.”

“Oh.” He looked away.

I waited for him to start walking again, but he seemed lost in thought.

“Is there a scandal?” I wondered.

Jacob chuckled once. “I forget what it’s like, not having everyone know everything all the time. Having a quiet, private place inside my head.”

We walked along the stony beach quietly for a few minutes.

“So what is it?” I finally asked. “That everyone in your head already knows?”

He hesitated for a moment, as if he weren’t sure how much he was going to tell me. Then he sighed and said, “Quil imprinted. That’s three now. The rest of us are starting to get worried. Maybe it’s more common than the stories say. . . .” He frowned, and then turned to stare at me. He gazed into my eyes without speaking, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“What are you staring at?” I asked, feeling self-conscious.

He sighed. “Nothing.”

Jacob started walking again. Without seeming to think about it, he reached out and took my hand. We paced silently across the rocks.

I thought of how we must look walking hand and hand down the beach — like a couple, certainly — and wondered if I should object. But this was the way it had always been with Jacob. . . . No reason to get worked up about it now.

“Why is Quil’s imprinting such a scandal?” I asked when it didn’t look like he was going to go on. “Is it because he’s the newest one?”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“It’s another one of those legend things. I wonder when we’re going to stop being surprised that they’re all true?” he muttered to himself.

“Are you going to tell me? Or do I have to guess?”

“You’d never get it right. See, Quil hasn’t been hanging out with us, you know, until just recently. So he hadn’t been around Emily’s place much.”

“Quil imprinted on Emily, too?” I gasped.

“No! I told you not to guess. Emily had her two nieces down for a visit . . . and Quil met Claire.”

He didn’t continue. I thought about that for a moment.

“Emily doesn’t want her niece with a werewolf? That’s a little hypocritical,” I said.

But I could understand why she of all people might feel that way. I thought again of the long scars that marred her face and extended all the way down her right arm. Sam had lost control just once when he was standing too close to her. Once was all it took. . . . I’d seen the pain in Sam’s eyes when he looked at what he’d done to Emily. I could understand why Emily might want to protect her niece from that.

“Would you please stop guessing? You’re way off. Emily doesn’t mind that part, it’s just, well, a little early.”

“What do you mean early?”

Jacob appraised me with narrowed eyes. “Try not to be judgmental, okay?”

I nodded cautiously.

“Claire is two,” Jacob told me.

Rain started to fall. I blinked furiously as the drops pelted my face.

Jacob waited in silence. He wore no jacket, as usual; the rain left a spatter of dark spots on his black T-shirt, and dripped through his shaggy hair. His face was expressionless as he watched mine.

“Quil . . . imprinted . . . with a two-year-old?” I was finally able to ask.

“It happens.” Jacob shrugged. He bent to grab another rock and sent it flying out into the bay. “Or so the stories say.”

“But she’s a baby,” I protested.

He looked at me with dark amusement. “Quil’s not getting any older,” he reminded me, a bit of acid in his tone. “He’ll just have to be patient for a few decades.”

“I . . . don’t know what to say.”

I was trying my hardest not to be critical, but, in truth, I was horrified. Until now, nothing about the werewolves had bothered me since the day I’d found out they weren’t committing the murders I’d suspected them of.

“You’re making judgments,” he accused. “I can see it on your face.”

“Sorry,” I muttered. “But it sounds really creepy.”

“It’s not like that; you’ve got it all wrong,” Jacob defended his friend, suddenly vehement. “I’ve seen what it’s like, through his eyes. There’s nothing romantic about it at all, not for Quil, not now.” He took a deep breath, frustrated. “It’s so hard to describe. It’s not like love at first sight, really. It’s more like . . . gravity moves. When you see her, suddenly it’s not the earth holding you here anymore. She does. And nothing matters more than her. And you would do anything for her, be anything for her. . . . You become whatever she needs you to be, whether that’s a protector, or a lover, or a friend, or a brother.

“Quil will be the best, kindest big brother any kid ever had. There isn’t a toddler on the planet that will be more carefully looked after than that little girl will be. And then, when she’s older and needs a friend, he’ll be more understanding, trustworthy, and reliable than anyone else she knows. And then, when she’s grown up, they’ll be as happy as Emily and Sam.” A strange, bitter edge sharpened his tone at the very end, when he spoke of Sam.

“Doesn’t Claire get a choice here?”

“Of course. But why wouldn’t she choose him, in the end? He’ll be her perfect match. Like he was designed for her alone.”

We walked in silence for a moment, till I paused to toss a rock toward the ocean. It fell to the beach several meters short. Jacob laughed at me.

“We can’t all be freakishly strong,” I muttered.

He sighed.

“When do you think it will happen for you?” I asked quietly.

His answer was flat and immediate. “Never.”

“It’s not something you can control, is it?”

He was silent for a few minutes. Unconsciously, we both walked slower, barely moving at all.

“It’s not supposed to be,” he admitted. “But you have to see her — the one that’s supposedly meant for you.”

“And you think that if you haven’t seen her yet, then she’s not out there?” I asked skeptically. “Jacob, you haven’t really seen much of the world — less than me, even.”

“No, I haven’t,” he said in a low voice. He looked at my face with suddenly piercing eyes. “But I’ll never see anyone else, Bella. I only see you. Even when I close my eyes and try to see something else. Ask Quil or Embry. It drives them all crazy.”

I dropped my eyes to the rocks.

We weren’t walking anymore. The only sound was of the waves beating against the shore. I couldn’t hear the rain over their roar.

“Maybe I’d better go home,” I whispered.

“No!” he protested, surprised by this conclusion.

I looked up at him again, and his eyes were anxious now.

“You have the whole day off, right? The bloodsucker won’t be home yet.”

I glared at him.

“No offense intended,” he said quickly.

“Yes, I have the whole day. But, Jake . . .”

He held up his hands. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I won’t be like that anymore. I’ll just be Jacob.”

I sighed. “But if that’s what you’re thinking . . .”

“Don’t worry about me,” he insisted, smiling with deliberate cheer, too brightly. “I know what I’m doing. Just tell me if I’m upsetting you.”

“I don’t know. . . .”

“C’mon, Bella. Let’s go back to the house and get our bikes. You’ve got to ride a motorcycle regularly to keep it in tune.”

“I really don’t think I’m allowed.”

“By who? Charlie or the blood — or him?”

“Both.”

Jacob grinned my grin, and he was suddenly the Jacob I missed the most, sunny and warm.

I couldn’t help grinning back.

The rain softened, turned to mist.

“I won’t tell anyone,” he promised.

“Except every one of your friends.”

He shook his head soberly and raised his right hand. “I promise not to think about it.”

I laughed. “If I get hurt, it was because I tripped.”

“Whatever you say.”

We rode our motorcycles on the back roads around La Push until the rain made them too muddy and Jacob insisted that he was going to pass out if he didn’t eat soon. Billy greeted me easily when we got to the house, as if my sudden reappearance meant nothing more complicated than that I’d wanted to spend the day with my friend. After we ate the sandwiches Jacob made, we went out to the garage and I helped him clean up the bikes. I hadn’t been here in months — since Edward had returned — but there was no sense of import to it. It was just another afternoon in the garage.

“This is nice,” I commented when he pulled the warm sodas from the grocery bag. “I’ve missed this place.”

He smiled, looking around at the plastic sheds bolted together over our heads. “Yeah, I can understand that. All the splendor of the Taj Mahal, without the inconvenience and expense of traveling to India.”

“To Washington’s little Taj Mahal,” I toasted, holding up my can.

He touched his can to mine.

“Do you remember last Valentine’s Day? I think that was the last time you were here — the last time when things were still . . . normal, I mean.”

I laughed. “Of course I remember. I traded a lifetime of servitude for a box of conversation hearts. That’s not something I’m likely to forget.”

He laughed with me. “That’s right. Hmm, servitude. I’ll have to think of something good.” Then he sighed. “It feels like it was years ago. Another era. A happier one.”

I couldn’t agree with him. This was my happy era now. But I was surprised to realize how many things I missed from my own personal dark ages. I stared through the opening at the murky forest. The rain had picked up again, but it was warm in the little garage, sitting next to Jacob. He was as good as a furnace.

His fingers brushed my hand. “Things have really changed.”

“Yeah,” I said, and then I reached out and patted the back tire of my bike. “Charlie used to like me. I hope Billy doesn’t say anything about today. . . .” I bit my lip.

“He won’t. He doesn’t get worked up about things the way Charlie does. Hey, I never did apologize officially for that stupid move with the bike. I’m real sorry about ratting you out to Charlie. I wish I hadn’t.”

I rolled my eyes. “Me, too.”

“I’m really, really sorry.”

He looked at me hopefully, his wet, tangled black hair sticking up in every direction around his pleading face.

“Oh, fine! You’re forgiven.”

“Thanks, Bells!”

We grinned at each other for a second, and then his face clouded over.

“You know that day, when I brought the bike over . . . I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” he said slowly. “But also . . . not wanting to.”

I held very still — a reaction to stress. It was a habit I’d picked up from Edward.

“Were you just being stubborn because you were mad at me, or were you really serious?” he whispered.

“About what?” I whispered back, though I was sure I knew what he meant.

He glared at me. “You know. When you said it was none of my business . . . if — if he bit you.” He cringed visibly at the end.

“Jake . . .” My throat felt swollen. I couldn’t finish.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Were you serious?”

He was trembling just slightly. His eyes stayed closed.

“Yes,” I whispered.

Jacob inhaled, slow and deep. “I guess I knew that.”

I stared at his face, waiting for his eyes to open.

“You know what this will mean?” He demanded suddenly. “You do understand that, don’t you? What will happen if they break the treaty?”

“We’ll leave first,” I said in a small voice.

His eyes flashed open, their black depths full of anger and pain. “There wasn’t a geographic limit to the treaty, Bella. Our great-grandfathers only agreed to keep the peace because the Cullens swore that they were different, that humans weren’t in danger from them. They promised they would never kill or change anyone ever again. If they go back on their word, the treaty is meaningless, and they are no different than any other vampires. Once that’s established, when we find them again —”

“But, Jake, didn’t you break the treaty already?” I asked, grasping at straws. “Wasn’t part of it that you not tell people about the vampires? And you told me. So isn’t the treaty sort of moot, anyhow?”

Jacob didn’t like the reminder; the pain in his eyes hardened into animosity. “Yeah, I broke the treaty — back before I believed any of it. And I’m sure they were informed of that.” He glared sourly at my forehead, not meeting my shamed gaze. “But it’s not like that gives them a freebie or anything. There’s no fault for a fault. They have only one option if they object to what I did. The same option we’ll have when they break the treaty: to attack. To start the war.”

He made it sound so inevitable. I shuddered.

“Jake, it doesn’t have to be that way.”

His teeth ground together. “It is that way.”

The silence after his declaration felt very loud.

“Will you never forgive me, Jacob?” I whispered. As soon as I said the words, I wished I hadn’t. I didn’t want to hear his answer.

“You won’t be Bella anymore,” he told me. “My friend won’t exist. There’ll be no one to forgive.”

“That sounds like a no,” I whispered.

We faced each other for an endless moment.

“Is this goodbye then, Jake?”

He blinked rapidly, his fierce expression melting in surprise. “Why? We still have a few years. Can’t we be friends until we’re out of time?”

“Years? No, Jake, not years.” I shook my head, and laughed once without humor. “Weeks is more accurate.”

I was not expecting his reaction.

He was suddenly on his feet, and there was a loud pop as the soda can exploded in his hand. Soda flew everywhere, soaking me, like it was spraying from a hose.

“Jake!” I started to complain, but I fell silent when I realized that his whole body was quivering with anger. He glared at me wildly, a growling sound building in his chest.

I froze in place, too shocked to remember how to move.

The shaking rolled through him, getting faster, until it looked like he was vibrating. His shape blurred. . . .

And then Jacob gritted his teeth together, and the growling stopped. He squeezed his eyes tight in concentration; the quivering slowed until only his hands were shaking.

“Weeks,” Jacob said in a flat monotone.

I couldn’t respond; I was still frozen.

He opened his eyes. They were beyond fury now.

“He’s going to change you into a filthy bloodsucker in just a few weeks!” Jacob hissed through his teeth.

Too stunned to take offense at his words, I just nodded mutely.

His face turned green under the russet skin.

“Of course, Jake,” I whispered after a long minute of silence. “He’s seventeen, Jacob. And I get closer to nineteen every day. Besides, what’s the point in waiting? He’s all I want. What else can I do?”

I’d meant that as a rhetorical question.

His words cracked like snaps of a whip. “Anything. Anything else. You’d be better off dead. I’d rather you were.”

I recoiled like he’d slapped me. It hurt worse than if he had.

9. TARGET

ALICE DROPPED ME OFF IN THE MORNING, IN KEEPING with the slumber party charade. It wouldn’t be long until Edward showed up, officially returning from his “hiking” trip. All of the pretenses were starting to wear on me. I wouldn’t miss this part of being human.

Charlie peeked through the front window when he heard me slam the car door. He waved to Alice, and then went to get the door for me.

“Did you have fun?” Charlie asked.

“Sure, it was great. Very . . . girlie.”

I carried my stuff in, dumped it all at the foot of the stairs, and wandered into the kitchen to look for a snack.

“You’ve got a message,” Charlie called after me.

On the kitchen counter, the phone message pad was propped up conspicuously against a saucepan.

Jacob called, Charlie had written.

He said he didn’t mean it, and that he’s sorry. He wants you to call him. Be nice and give him a break. He sounded upset.

I grimaced. Charlie didn’t usually editorialize on my messages.

Jacob could just go ahead and be upset. I didn’t want to talk to him. Last I’d heard, they weren’t big on allowing phone calls from the other side. If Jacob preferred me dead, then maybe he should get used to the silence.

My appetite evaporated. I turned an about face and went to put my things away.

“Aren’t you going to call Jacob?” Charlie asked. He was leaning around the living room wall, watching me pick up.

“No.”

I started up the stairs.

“That’s not very attractive behavior, Bella,” he said. “Forgiveness is divine.”

“Mind your own business,” I muttered under my breath, much too low for him to hear.

I knew the laundry was building up, so after I put my toothpaste away and threw my dirty clothes in the hamper, I went to strip Charlie’s bed. I left his sheets in a pile at the top of the stairs and went to get mine.

I paused beside the bed, cocking my head to the side.

Where was my pillow? I turned in a circle, scanning the room. No pillow. I noticed that my room looked oddly tidy. Hadn’t my gray sweatshirt been draped over the low bedpost on the footboard? And I would swear there had been a pair of dirty socks behind the rocking chair, along with the red blouse I’d tried on two mornings ago, but decided was too dressy for school, hanging over the arm. . . . I spun around again. My hamper wasn’t empty, but it wasn’t overflowing, the way I thought it had been.

Was Charlie doing laundry? That was out of character.

“Dad, did you start the wash?” I shouted out my door.

“Um, no,” he shouted back, sounding guilty. “Did you want me to?”

“No, I got it. Were you looking for something in my room?”

“No. Why?”

“I can’t find . . . a shirt. . . .”

“I haven’t been in there.”

And then I remembered that Alice had been here to get my pajamas. I hadn’t noticed that she’d borrowed my pillow, too — probably since I’d avoided the bed. It looked like she had cleaned while she was passing through. I blushed for my slovenly ways.

But that red shirt really wasn’t dirty, so I went to save it from the hamper.

I expected to find it near the top, but it wasn’t there. I dug through the whole pile and still couldn’t find it. I knew I was probably getting paranoid, but it seemed like something else was missing, or maybe more than one something. I didn’t even have half a load here.

I ripped my sheets off and headed for the laundry closet, grabbing Charlie’s on the way. The washing machine was empty. I checked the dryer, too, half-expecting to find a washed load waiting for me, courtesy of Alice. Nothing. I frowned, mystified.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Charlie yelled.

“Not yet.”

I went back upstairs to search under my bed. Nothing but dust bunnies. I started to dig through my dresser. Maybe I’d put the red shirt away and forgotten.

I gave up when the doorbell rang. That would be Edward.

“Door,” Charlie informed me from the couch as I skipped past him.

“Don’t strain yourself, Dad.”

I pulled the door open with a big smile on my face.

Edward’s golden eyes were wide, his nostrils flared, his lips pulled back over his teeth.

“Edward?” My voice was sharp with shock as I read his expression. “What —?”

He put his finger to my lips. “Give me two seconds,” he whispered. “Don’t move.”

I stood frozen on the doorstep and he . . . disappeared. He moved so quickly that Charlie wouldn’t even have seen him pass.

Before I could compose myself enough to count to two, he was back. He put his arm around my waist and pulled me swiftly toward the kitchen. His eyes darted around the room, and he held me against his body as if he were shielding me from something. I threw a glance toward Charlie on the couch, but he was studiously ignoring us.

“Someone’s been here,” he murmured in my ear after he pulled me to the back of the kitchen. His voice was strained; it was difficult to hear him over the thumping of the washing machine.

“I swear that no werewolves —” I started to say.

“Not one of them,” he interrupted me quickly, shaking his head. “One of us.”

His tone made it clear that he didn’t mean a member of his family.

I felt the blood empty from my face.

“Victoria?” I choked.

“It’s not a scent I recognize.”

“One of the Volturi,” I guessed.

“Probably.”

“When?”

“That’s why I think it must have been them — it wasn’t long ago, early this morning while Charlie was sleeping. And whoever it was didn’t touch him, so there must have been another purpose.”

“Looking for me.”

He didn’t answer. His body was frozen, a statue.

“What are you two hissing about in here?” Charlie asked suspiciously, rounding the corner with an empty popcorn bowl in his hands.

I felt green. A vampire had been in the house looking for me while Charlie slept. Panic overwhelmed me, closed my throat. I couldn’t answer, I just stared at him in horror.

Charlie’s expression changed. Abruptly, he was grinning. “If you two are having a fight . . . well, don’t let me interrupt.”

Still grinning, he put his bowl in the sink and sauntered out of the room.

“Let’s go,” Edward said in a low hard voice.

“But Charlie!” The fear was squeezing my chest, making it hard to breathe.

He deliberated for a short second, and then his phone was in his hand.

“Emmett,” he muttered into the receiver. He began talking so fast that I couldn’t understand the words. It was over in half a minute. He started pulling me toward the door.

“Emmett and Jasper are on their way,” he whispered when he felt my resistance. “They’ll sweep the woods. Charlie is fine.”

I let him drag me along then, too panicked to think clearly. Charlie met my frightened eyes with a smug grin, which suddenly turned to confusion. Edward had me out the door before Charlie could say anything.

“Where are we going?” I couldn’t stop whispering, even after we were in the car.

“We’re going to talk to Alice,” he told me, his volume normal but his voice bleak.

“You think maybe she saw something?”

He stared at the road through narrowed eyes. “Maybe.”

They were waiting for us, on alert after Edward’s call. It was like walking into a museum, everyone still as statues in various poses of stress.

“What happened?” Edward demanded as soon as we were through the door. I was shocked to see that he was glowering at Alice, his hands fisted in anger.

Alice stood with her arms folded tight across her chest. Only her lips moved. “I have no idea. I didn’t see anything.”

“How is that possible?” he hissed.

“Edward,” I said, a quiet reproof. I didn’t like him talking to Alice this way.

Carlisle interrupted in a calming voice. “It’s not an exact science, Edward.”

“He was in her room, Alice. He could have still been there — waiting for her.”

“I would have seen that.”

Edward threw his hands up in exasperation. “Really? You’re sure?”

Alice’s voice was cold when she answered. “You’ve already got me watching the Volturis’ decisions, watching for Victoria’s return, watching Bella’s every step. You want to add another? Do I just have to watch Charlie, or Bella’s room, or the house, or the whole street, too? Edward, if I try to do too much, things are going to start slipping through the cracks.”

“It looks like they already are,” Edward snapped.

“She was never in any danger. There was nothing to see.”

“If you’re watching Italy, why didn’t you see them send —”

“I don’t think it’s them,” Alice insisted. “I would have seen that.”

“Who else would leave Charlie alive?”

I shuddered.

“I don’t know,” Alice said.

“Helpful.”

“Stop it, Edward,” I whispered.

He turned on me, his face still livid, his teeth clenched together. He glared at me for half a second, and then, suddenly, he exhaled. His eyes widened and his jaw relaxed.

“You’re right, Bella. I’m sorry.” He looked at Alice. “Forgive me, Alice. I shouldn’t be taking this out on you. That was inexcusable.”

“I understand,” Alice assured him. “I’m not happy about it, either.”

Edward took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s look at this logically. What are the possibilities?”

Everyone seemed to thaw out at once. Alice relaxed and leaned against the back of the couch. Carlisle walked slowly toward her, his eyes far away. Esme sat on the sofa in front of Alice, curling her legs up on the seat. Only Rosalie remained unmoving, her back to us, staring out the glass wall.

Edward pulled me to the sofa and I sat next to Esme, who shifted to put her arm around me. He held one of my hands tightly in both of his.

“Victoria?” Carlisle asked.

Edward shook his head. “No. I didn’t know the scent. He might have been from the Volturi, someone I’ve never met. . . .”

Alice shook her head. “Aro hasn’t asked anyone to look for her yet. I will see that. I’m waiting for it.”

Edward’s head snapped up. “You’re watching for an official command.”

“You think someone’s acting on their own? Why?”

“Caius’s idea,” Edward suggested, his face tightening again.

“Or Jane’s . . . ,” Alice said. “They both have the resources to send an unfamiliar face. . . .”

Edward scowled. “And the motivation.”

“It doesn’t make sense, though,” Esme said. “If whoever it was meant to wait for Bella, Alice would have seen that. He — or she — had no intention of hurting Bella. Or Charlie, for that matter.”

I cringed at my father’s name.

“It’s going to be fine, Bella,” Esme murmured, smoothing my hair.

“But what was the point then?” Carlisle mused.

“Checking to see if I’m still human?” I guessed.

“Possible,” Carlisle said.

Rosalie breathed out a sigh, loud enough for me to hear. She’d unfrozen, and her face was turned expectantly toward the kitchen. Edward, on the other hand, looked discouraged.

Emmett burst through the kitchen door, Jasper right behind him.

“Long gone, hours ago,” Emmett announced, disappointed. “The trail went East, then South, and disappeared on a side road. Had a car waiting.”

“That’s bad luck,” Edward muttered. “If he’d gone west . . . well, it would be nice for those dogs to make themselves useful.”

I winced, and Esme rubbed my shoulder.

Jasper looked at Carlisle. “Neither of us recognized him. But here.” He held out something green and crumpled. Carlisle took it from him and held it to his face. I saw, as it exchanged hands, that it was a broken fern frond. “Maybe you know the scent.”

“No,” Carlisle said. “Not familiar. No one I’ve ever met.”

“Perhaps we’re looking at this the wrong way. Maybe it’s a coincidence . . . ,” Esme began, but stopped when she saw everyone else’s incredulous expressions. “I don’t mean a coincidence that a stranger happened to pick Bella’s house to visit at random. I meant that maybe someone was just curious. Our scent is all around her. Was he wondering what draws us there?”

“Why wouldn’t he just come here then? If he was curious?” Emmett demanded.

“You would,” Esme said with a sudden, fond smile. “The rest of us aren’t always so direct. Our family is very large — he or she might be frightened. But Charlie wasn’t harmed. This doesn’t have to be an enemy.”

Just curious. Like James and Victoria had been curious, in the beginning? The thought of Victoria made me tremble, though the one thing they seemed certain of was that it had not been her. Not this time. She would stick to her obsessed pattern. This was just someone else, a stranger.

I was slowly realizing that vampires were much bigger participants in this world than I’d once thought. How many times did the average human cross paths with them, completely unaware? How many deaths, obliviously reported as crimes and accidents, were really due to their thirst? How crowded would this new world be when I finally joined it?

The shrouded future sent a shiver down my spine.

The Cullens pondered Esme’s words with varying expressions. I could see that Edward did not accept her theory, and that Carlisle very much wanted to.

Alice pursed her lips. “I don’t think so. The timing of it was too perfect. . . . This visitor was so careful to make no contact. Almost like he or she knew that I would see. . . .”

“He could have other reasons for not making contact,” Esme reminded her.

“Does it really matter who it was?” I asked. “Just the chance that someone was looking for me . . . isn’t that reason enough? We shouldn’t wait for graduation.”

“No, Bella,” Edward said quickly. “It’s not that bad. If you’re really in danger, we’ll know.”

“Think of Charlie,” Carlisle reminded me. “Think of how it would hurt him if you disappeared.”

“I am thinking of Charlie! He’s the one I’m worried about! What if my little guest had happened to be thirsty last night? As long as I’m around Charlie, he’s a target, too. If anything happened to him, it would be all my fault!”

“Hardly, Bella,” Esme said, patting my hair again. “And nothing will happen to Charlie. We’re just going to have to be more careful.”

“More careful?” I repeated in disbelief.

“It’s all going to be fine, Bella,” Alice promised; Edward squeezed my hand.

And I could see, looking at all of their beautiful faces one by one, that nothing I could say was going to change their minds.

It was a quiet ride home. I was frustrated. Against my better judgment, I was still human.

“You won’t be alone for a second,” Edward promised as he drove me to Charlie’s. “Someone will always be there. Emmett, Alice, Jasper . . .”

I sighed. “This is ridiculous. They’ll get so bored, they’ll have to kill me themselves, just for something to do.”

Edward gave me a sour look. “Hilarious, Bella.”

Charlie was in a good mood when we got back. He could see the tension between me and Edward, and he was misinterpreting it. He watched me throw together his dinner with a smug smile on his face. Edward had excused himself for a moment, to do some surveillance, I assumed, but Charlie waited till he was back to pass on my messages.

“Jacob called again,” Charlie said as soon as Edward was in the room. I kept my face empty as I set the plate in front of him.

“Is that a fact?”

Charlie frowned. “Don’t be petty, Bella. He sounded really low.”

“Is Jacob paying you for all the P.R., or are you a volunteer?”

Charlie grumbled incoherently at me until the food cut off his garbled complaint.

Though he didn’t realize it, he’d found his mark.

My life was feeling a lot like a game of dice right now — would the next roll come up snake eyes? What if something did happen to me? It seemed worse than petty to leave Jacob feeling guilty about what he’d said.

But I didn’t want to talk to him with Charlie around, to have to watch my every word so I didn’t let the wrong thing slip. Thinking about this made me jealous of Jacob and Billy’s relationship. How easy it must be when you had no secrets from the person you lived with.

So I would wait for the morning. I most likely wasn’t going to die tonight, after all, and it wouldn’t hurt him to feel guilty for twelve more hours. It might even be good for him.

When Edward officially left for the evening, I wondered who was out in the downpour, keeping an eye on Charlie and me. I felt awful for Alice or whoever else it might be, but still comforted. I had to admit it was nice, knowing I wasn’t alone. And Edward was back in record time.

He sang me to sleep again and — aware even in unconsciousness that he was there — I slept free of nightmares.

In the morning, Charlie left to go fishing with Deputy Mark before I was up. I decided to use this lack of supervision to be divine.

“I’m going to let Jacob off the hook,” I warned Edward after I’d eaten breakfast.

“I knew you’d forgive him,” he said with an easy smile. “Holding grudges is not one of your many talents.”

I rolled my eyes, but I was pleased. It seemed like Edward really was over the whole anti-werewolf thing.

I didn’t look at the clock until after I’d dialed. It was a little early for calls, and I worried that I would wake Billy and Jake, but someone picked up before the second ring, so he couldn’t have been too far from the phone.

“Hello?” a dull voice said.

“Jacob?”

“Bella!” he exclaimed. “Oh, Bella, I’m so sorry!” he tripped over the words as he hurried to get them out. “I swear I didn’t mean it. I was just being stupid. I was angry — but that’s no excuse. It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever said in my life and I’m sorry. Don’t be mad at me, please? Please. Lifetime of servitude up for grabs — all you have to do is forgive me.”

“I’m not mad. You’re forgiven.”

“Thank you,” he breathed fervently. “I can’t believe I was such a jerk.”

“Don’t worry about that — I’m used to it.”

He laughed, exuberant with relief. “Come down to see me,” he begged. “I want to make it up to you.”

I frowned. “How?”

“Anything you want. Cliff diving,” he suggested, laughing again.

“Oh, there’s a brilliant idea.”

“I’ll keep you safe,” he promised. “No matter what you want to do.”

I glanced at Edward. His face was very calm, but I was sure this was not the time.

“Not right now.”

“He’s not thrilled with me, is he?” Jacob’s voice was ashamed, rather than bitter, for once.

“That’s not the problem. There’s . . . well, there’s this other problem that’s slightly more worrisome than a bratty teenage werewolf. . . .” I tried to keep my tone joking, but I didn’t fool him.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded.

“Um.” I wasn’t sure what I should tell him.

Edward held his hand out for the phone. I looked at his face carefully. He seemed calm enough.

“Bella?” Jacob asked.

Edward sighed, holding his hand closer.

“Do you mind speaking to Edward?” I asked apprehensively. “He wants to talk to you.”

There was a long pause.

“Okay,” Jacob finally agreed. “This should be interesting.”

I handed the phone to Edward; I hoped he could read the warning in my eyes.

“Hello, Jacob,” Edward said, perfectly polite.

There was a silence. I bit my lip, trying to guess how Jacob would answer.

“Someone was here — not a scent I know,” Edward explained. “Has your pack come across anything new?”

Another pause, while Edward nodded to himself, unsurprised.

“Here’s the crux, Jacob. I won’t be letting Bella out of my sight till I get this taken care of. It’s nothing personal —”

Jacob interrupted him then, and I could hear the buzz of his voice from the receiver. Whatever he was saying, he was more intense than before. I tried unsuccessfully to make out the words.

“You might be right —,” Edward began, but Jacob was arguing again. Neither of them sounded angry, at least.

“That’s an interesting suggestion. We’re quite willing to renegotiate. If Sam is amenable.”

Jacob’s voice was quieter now. I started chewing on my thumbnail as I tried to read Edward’s expression.

“Thank you,” Edward replied.

Then Jacob said something that caused a surprised expression to flicker across Edward’s face.

“I’d planned to go alone, actually,” Edward said, answering the unexpected question. “And leave her with the others.”

Jacob’s voice rose in pitch, and it sounded to me like he was trying to be persuasive.

“I’ll try to consider it objectively,” Edward promised. “As objectively as I’m capable of.”

The pause was shorter this time.

“That’s not a half-bad idea. When? . . . No, that’s fine. I’d like a chance to follow the trail personally, anyway. Ten minutes . . . Certainly,” Edward said. He held the phone out to me. “Bella?”

I took it slowly, feeling confused.

“What was that all about?” I asked Jacob, my voice peeved. I knew it was juvenile, but I felt excluded.

“A truce, I think. Hey, do me a favor,” Jacob suggested. “Try to convince your bloodsucker that the safest place for you to be — especially when he leaves — is on the reservation. We’re well able to handle anything.”

“Is that what you were trying to sell him?”

“Yes. It makes sense. Charlie’s probably better off here, too. As much as possible.”

“Get Billy on it,” I agreed. I hated that I was putting Charlie within the range of the crosshairs that always seemed to be centered on me. “What else?”

“Just rearranging some boundaries, so we can catch anyone who gets too near Forks. I’m not sure if Sam will go for it, but until he comes around, I’ll keep an eye on things.”

“What do you mean by ‘keep an eye on things’?”

“I mean that if you see a wolf running around your house, don’t shoot at it.”

“Of course not. You really shouldn’t do anything . . . risky, though.”

He snorted. “Don’t be stupid. I can take care of myself.”

I sighed.

“I also tried to convince him to let you visit. He’s prejudiced, so don’t let him give you any crap about safety. He knows as well as I do that you’d be safe here.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“See you in a few,” Jacob said.

“You’re coming up?”

“Yeah. I’m going to get the scent of your visitor so we can track him if he comes back.”

“Jake, I really don’t like the idea of you tracking —”

“Oh please, Bella,” he interrupted. Jacob laughed, and then hung up.

10. SCENT

IT WAS ALL VERY CHILDISH. WHY ON EARTH SHOULD EDward have to leave for Jacob to come over? Weren’t we past this kind of immaturity?

“It’s not that I feel any personal antagonism toward him, Bella, it’s just easier for both of us,” Edward told me at the door. “I won’t be far away. You’ll be safe.”

“I’m not worried about that.”

He smiled, and then a sly look came into his eye. He pulled me close, burying his face in my hair. I could feel his cool breath saturate the strands as he exhaled; it raised goose bumps on my neck.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, and then he laughed aloud as if I’d just told a good joke.

“What’s so funny?”

But Edward just grinned and loped off toward the trees without answering.

Grumbling to myself, I went to clean up the kitchen. Before I even had the sink full of water, the doorbell rang. It was hard to get used to how much faster Jacob was without his car. How everyone seemed to be so much faster than me. . . .

“Come in, Jake!” I shouted.

I was concentrating on piling the dishes into the bubbly water, and I’d forgotten that Jacob moved like a ghost these days. So it made me jump when his voice was suddenly there behind me.

“Should you really leave your door unlocked like that? Oh, sorry.”

I’d slopped myself with the dishwater when he’d startled me.

“I’m not worried about anyone who would be deterred by a locked door,” I said while I wiped the front of my shirt with a dishtowel.

“Good point,” he agreed.

I turned to look at him, eyeing him critically. “Is it really so impossible to wear clothes, Jacob?” I asked. Once again, Jacob was bare-chested, wearing nothing but a pair of old cut-off jeans. Secretly, I wondered if he was just so proud of his new muscles that he couldn’t stand to cover them up. I had to admit, they were impressive — but I’d never thought of him as vain. “I mean, I know you don’t get cold anymore, but still.”

He ran a hand through his wet hair; it was falling in his eyes.

“It’s just easier,” he explained.

“What’s easier?”

He smiled condescendingly. “It’s enough of a pain to carry the shorts around with me, let alone a complete outfit. What do I look like, a pack mule?”

I frowned. “What are you talking about, Jacob?”

His expression was superior, like I was missing something obvious. “My clothes don’t just pop in and out of existence when I change — I have to carry them with me while I run. Pardon me for keeping my burden light.”

I changed color. “I guess I didn’t think about that,” I muttered.

He laughed and pointed to a black leather cord, thin as a strand of yarn, that was wound three times below his left calf like an anklet. I hadn’t noticed before that his feet were bare, too. “That’s more than just a fashion statement — it sucks to carry jeans in your mouth.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

He grinned. “Does my being half-naked bother you?”

“No.”

Jacob laughed again, and I turned my back on him to focus on the dishes. I hoped he realized my blush was left over from embarrassment at my own stupidity, and had nothing to do with his question.

“Well, I suppose I should get to work.” He sighed. “I wouldn’t want to give him an excuse to say I’m slacking on my side.”

“Jacob, it’s not your job —”

He raised a hand to cut me off. “I’m working on a volunteer basis here. Now, where is the intruder’s scent the worst?”

“My bedroom, I think.”

His eyes narrowed. He didn’t like that any more than Edward had.

“I’ll just be a minute.”

I methodically scrubbed the plate I was holding. The only sound was the brush’s plastic bristles scraping round and round on the ceramic. I listened for something from above, a creak of the floorboard, the click of a door. There was nothing. I realized I’d been cleaning the same plate far longer than necessary, and I tried to pay attention to what I was doing.

“Whew!” Jacob said, inches behind me, scaring me again.

“Yeesh, Jake, cut that out!”

“Sorry. Here —” Jacob took the towel and mopped up my new spill. “I’ll make it up to you. You wash, I’ll rinse and dry.”

“Fine.” I gave him the plate.

“Well, the scent was easy enough to catch. By the way, your room reeks.”

“I’ll buy some air freshener.”

He laughed.

I washed and he dried in companionable silence for a few minutes.

“Can I ask you something?”

I handed him another plate. “That depends on what you want to know.”

“I’m not trying to be a jerk or anything — I’m honestly curious,” Jacob assured me.

“Fine. Go ahead.”

He paused for half a second. “What’s it like — having a vampire for a boyfriend?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s the best.”

“I’m serious. The idea doesn’t bother you — it never creeps you out?”

“Never.”

He was silent as he reached for the bowl in my hands. I peeked up at his face — he was frowning, his lower lip jutting out.

“Anything else?” I asked.

He wrinkled his nose again. “Well . . . I was wondering . . . do you . . . y’know, kiss him?”

I laughed. “Yes.”

He shuddered. “Ugh.”

“To each her own,” I murmured.

“You don’t worry about the fangs?”

I smacked his arm, splashing him with dishwater. “Shut up, Jacob! You know he doesn’t have fangs!”

“Close enough,” he muttered.

I gritted my teeth and scrubbed a boning knife with more force than necessary.

“Can I ask another one?” he asked softly when I passed the knife to him. “Just curious, again.”

“Fine,” I snapped.

He turned the knife over and over in his hands under the stream of water. When he spoke, it was only a whisper. “You said a few weeks. . . . When, exactly . . . ?” He couldn’t finish.

“Graduation,” I whispered back, watching his face warily. Would this set him off again?

“So soon,” he breathed, his eyes closing. It didn’t sound like a question. It sounded like a lament. The muscles in his arms tightened and his shoulders were stiff.

“OW!” he shouted; it had gotten so still in the room that I jumped a foot in the air at his outburst.

His right hand had curled into a tense fist around the blade of the knife — he unclenched his hand and the knife clattered onto the counter. Across his palm was a long, deep gash. The blood streamed down his fingers and dripped on the floor.

“Damn it! Ouch!” he complained.

My head spun and my stomach rolled. I clung to the countertop with one hand, took a deep breath through my mouth, and forced myself to get a grip so that I could take care of him.

“Oh, no, Jacob! Oh, crap! Here, wrap this around it!” I shoved the dish towel at him, reaching for his hand. He shrugged away from me.

“It’s nothing, Bella, don’t worry about it.”

The room started to shimmer a little around the edges.

I took another deep breath. “Don’t worry?! You sliced your hand open!”

He ignored the dish towel I pushed at him. He put his hand under the faucet and let the water wash over the wound. The water ran red. My head whirled.

“Bella,” he said.

I looked away from the wound, up to his face. He was frowning, but his expression was calm.

“What?”

“You look like you’re going to pass out, and you’re biting your lip off. Stop it. Relax. Breathe. I’m fine.”

I inhaled through my mouth and removed my teeth from my lower lip. “Don’t be brave.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Let’s go. I’ll drive you to the ER.” I was pretty sure I would be okay to drive. The walls were holding steady now, at least.

“Not necessary.” Jake turned off the water and took the towel from my hand. He twisted it loosely around his palm.

“Wait,” I protested. “Let me look at it.” I clutched the counter more firmly, to hold myself upright if the wound made me woozy again.

“Do you have a medical degree that you never told me about?”

“Just give me the chance to decide whether or not I’m going to throw a fit over taking you to the hospital.”

He made a face of mock horror. “Please, not a fit!”

“If you don’t let me see your hand, a fit is guaranteed.”

He inhaled deeply, and then let out a gusty sigh. “Fine.”

He unwound the towel and, when I reached out to take the cloth, he laid his hand in mine.

It took me a few seconds. I even flipped his hand over, though I was sure he’d cut his palm. I turned his hand back up, finally realizing that the angry pink, puckered line was all that was left of his wound.

“But . . . you were bleeding . . . so much.”

He pulled his hand back, his eyes steady and somber on mine.

“I heal fast.”

“I’ll say,” I mouthed.

I’d seen the long gash clearly, seen the blood that flowed into the sink. The rust-and-salt smell of it had almost pulled me under. It should have needed stitches. It should have taken days to scab over and then weeks to fade into the shiny pink scar that marked his skin now.

He screwed his mouth up into half a smile and thumped his fist once against his chest. “Werewolf, remember?”

His eyes held mine for an immeasurable moment.

“Right,” I finally said.

He laughed at my expression. “I told you this. You saw Paul’s scar.”

I shook my head to clear it. “It’s a little different, seeing the action sequence firsthand.”

I kneeled down and dug the bleach out of the cabinet under the sink. Then I poured some on a dusting rag and started scrubbing the floor. The burning scent of the bleach cleared the last of the dizziness from my head.

“Let me clean up,” Jacob said.

“I got this. Throw that towel in the wash, will you?”

When I was sure the floor smelled of nothing but bleach, I got up and rinsed the right side of the sink with bleach, too. Then I went to the laundry closet beside the pantry, and poured a cupful into the washing machine before starting it. Jacob watched me with a disapproving look on his face.

“Do you have obsessive-compulsive disorder?” he asked when I was done.

Huh. Maybe. But at least I had a good excuse this time. “We’re a bit sensitive to blood around here. I’m sure you can understand that.”

“Oh.” He wrinkled his nose again.

“Why not make it as easy as possible for him? What he’s doing is hard enough.”

“Sure, sure. Why not?”

I pulled the plug, and let the dirty water drain from the sink.

“Can I ask you something, Bella?”

I sighed.

“What’s it like — having a werewolf for a best friend?”

The question caught me off guard. I laughed out loud.

“Does it creep you out?” he pressed before I could answer.

“No. When the werewolf is being nice,” I qualified, “it’s the best.”

He grinned widely, his teeth bright against his russet skin. “Thanks, Bella,” he said, and then he grabbed my hand and wrenched me into one of his bone-crushing hugs.

Before I had time to react, he dropped his arms and stepped away.

“Ugh,” he said, his nose wrinkling. “Your hair stinks worse than your room.”

“Sorry,” I muttered. I suddenly understood what Edward had been laughing about earlier, after breathing on me.

“One of the many hazards of socializing with vampires,” Jacob said, shrugging. “It makes you smell bad. A minor hazard, comparatively.”

I glared at him. “I only smell bad to you, Jake.”

He grinned. “See you around, Bells.”

“Are you leaving?”

“He’s waiting for me to go. I can hear him outside.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll go out the back,” he said, and then he paused. “Hold up a sec — hey, do you think you can come to La Push tonight? We’re having a bonfire party. Emily will be there, and you could meet Kim . . . And I know Quil wants to see you, too. He’s pretty peeved that you found out before he did.”

I grinned at that. I could just imagine how that would have irked Quil — Jacob’s little human gal pal down with the werewolves while he was still clueless. And then I sighed. “Yeah, Jake, I don’t know about that. See, it’s a little tense right now. . . .”

“C’mon, you think somebody’s going to get past all — all six of us?”

There was a strange pause as he stuttered over the end of his question. I wondered if he had trouble saying the word werewolf aloud, the way I often had difficulty with vampire.

His big dark eyes were full of unashamed pleading.

“I’ll ask,” I said doubtfully.

He made a noise in the back of his throat. “Is he your warden, now, too? You know, I saw this story on the news last week about controlling, abusive teenage relationships and —”

“Okay!” I cut him off, and then shoved his arm. “Time for the werewolf to get out!”

He grinned. “Bye, Bells. Be sure you ask permission.”

He ducked out the back door before I could find something to throw at him. I growled incoherently at the empty room.

Seconds after he was gone, Edward walked slowly into the kitchen, raindrops glistening like diamonds set into the bronze of his hair. His eyes were wary.

“Did you two get into a fight?” he asked.

“Edward!” I sang, throwing myself at him.

“Hi, there.” He laughed and wrapped his arms around me. “Are you trying to distract me? It’s working.”

“No, I didn’t fight with Jacob. Much. Why?”

“I was just wondering why you stabbed him. Not that I object.” With his chin, he gestured to the knife on the counter.

“Dang! I thought I got everything.”

I pulled away from him and ran to put the knife in the sink before I doused it with bleach.

“I didn’t stab him,” I explained as I worked. “He forgot he had a knife in his hand.”

Edward chuckled. “That’s not nearly as fun as the way I imagined it.”

“Be nice.”

He took a big envelope from his jacket pocket and tossed it on the counter. “I got your mail.”

“Anything good?”

“I think so.”

My eyes narrowed suspiciously at his tone. I went to investigate.

He’d folded the legal-sized envelope in half. I smoothed it open, surprised at the weight of the expensive paper, and read the return address.

“Dartmouth? Is this a joke?”

“I’m sure it’s an acceptance. It looks exactly like mine.”

“Good grief, Edward — what did you do?”

“I sent in your application, that’s all.”

“I may not be Dartmouth material, but I’m not stupid enough to believe that.”

“Dartmouth seems to think that you’re Dartmouth material.”

I took a deep breath and counted slowly to ten. “That’s very generous of them,” I finally said. “However, accepted or not, there is still the minor matter of tuition. I can’t afford it, and I’m not letting you throw away enough money to buy yourself another sports car just so that I can pretend to go to Dartmouth next year.”

“I don’t need another sports car. And you don’t have to pretend anything,” he murmured. “One year of college wouldn’t kill you. Maybe you’d even like it. Just think about it, Bella. Imagine how excited Charlie and Renée would be. . . .”

His velvet voice painted the picture in my head before I could block it. Of course Charlie would explode with pride — no one in the town of Forks would be able to escape the fallout from his excitement. And Renée would be hysterical with joy at my triumph — though she’d swear she wasn’t at all surprised. . . .

I tried to shake the image out of my head. “Edward. I’m worried about living through graduation, let alone this summer or next fall.”

His arms wrapped around me again. “No one is going to hurt you. You have all the time in the world.”

I sighed. “I’m mailing the contents of my bank account to Alaska tomorrow. It’s all the alibi I need. It’s far enough away that Charlie won’t expect a visit until Christmas at the earliest. And I’m sure I’ll think of some excuse by then. You know,” I teased halfheartedly, “this whole secrecy and deception thing is kind of a pain.”

Edward’s expression hardened. “It gets easier. After a few decades, everyone you know is dead. Problem solved.”

I flinched.

“Sorry, that was harsh.”

I stared down at the big white envelope, not seeing it. “But still true.”

“If I get this resolved, whatever it is we’re dealing with, will you please consider waiting?”

“Nope.”

“Always so stubborn.”

“Yep.”

11. LEGENDS

“ARE YOU GONNA EAT THAT HOT DOG?” PAUL ASKED JAcob, his eyes locked on the last remnant of the huge meal the werewolves had consumed.

Jacob leaned back against my knees and toyed with the hot dog he had spitted on a straightened wire hanger; the flames at the edge of the bonfire licked along its blistered skin. He heaved a sigh and patted his stomach. It was somehow still flat, though I’d lost count of how many hot dogs he’d eaten after his tenth. Not to mention the super-sized bag of chips or the two-liter bottle of root beer.

“I guess,” Jake said slowly. “I’m so full I’m about to puke, but I think I can force it down. I won’t enjoy it at all, though.” He sighed again sadly.

Despite the fact that Paul had eaten at least as much as Jacob, he glowered and his hands balled up into fists.

“Sheesh.” Jacob laughed. “Kidding, Paul. Here.”

He flipped the homemade skewer across the circle. I expected it to land hot-dog-first in the sand, but Paul caught it neatly on the right end without difficulty.

Hanging out with no one but extremely dexterous people all the time was going to give me a complex.

“Thanks, man,” Paul said, already over his brief fit of temper.

The fire crackled, settling lower toward the sand. Sparks blew up in a sudden puff of brilliant orange against the black sky. Funny, I hadn’t noticed that the sun had set. For the first time, I wondered how late it had gotten. I’d lost track of time completely.

It was easier being with my Quileute friends than I’d expected.

While Jacob and I had dropped off my bike at the garage — and he had admitted ruefully that the helmet was a good idea that he should have thought of himself — I’d started to worry about showing up with him at the bonfire, wondering if the werewolves would consider me a traitor now. Would they be angry with Jacob for inviting me? Would I ruin the party?

But when Jacob had towed me out of the forest to the clifftop meeting place — where the fire already roared brighter than the cloud-obscured sun — it had all been very casual and light.

“Hey, vampire girl!” Embry had greeted me loudly. Quil had jumped up to give me a high five and kiss me on the cheek. Emily had squeezed my hand when we’d sat on the cool stone ground beside her and Sam.

Other than a few teasing complaints — mostly by Paul — about keeping the bloodsucker stench downwind, I was treated like someone who belonged.

It wasn’t just kids in attendance, either. Billy was here, his wheelchair stationed at what seemed the natural head of the circle. Beside him on a folding lawn chair, looking quite brittle, was Quil’s ancient, white-haired grandfather, Old Quil. Sue Clearwater, widow of Charlie’s friend Harry, had a chair on his other side; her two children, Leah and Seth, were also there, sitting on the ground like the rest of us. This surprised me, but all three were clearly in on the secret now. From the way Billy and Old Quil spoke to Sue, it sounded to me like she’d taken Harry’s place on the council. Did that make her children automatic members of La Push’s most secret society?

I wondered how horrible it was for Leah to sit across the circle from Sam and Emily. Her lovely face betrayed no emotion, but she never looked away from the flames. Looking at the perfection of Leah’s features, I couldn’t help but compare them to Emily’s ruined face. What did Leah think of Emily’s scars, now that she knew the truth behind them? Did it seem like justice in her eyes?

Little Seth Clearwater wasn’t so little anymore. With his huge, happy grin and his long, gangly build, he reminded me very much of a younger Jacob. The resemblance made me smile, and then sigh. Was Seth doomed to have his life change as drastically as the rest of these boys? Was that future why he and his family were allowed to be here?

The whole pack was there: Sam with his Emily, Paul, Embry, Quil, and Jared with Kim, the girl he’d imprinted upon.

My first impression of Kim was that she was a nice girl, a little shy, and a little plain. She had a wide face, mostly cheekbones, with eyes too small to balance them out. Her nose and mouth were both too broad for traditional beauty. Her flat black hair was thin and wispy in the wind that never seemed to let up atop the cliff.

That was my first impression. But after a few hours of watching Jared watch Kim, I could no longer find anything plain about the girl.

The way he stared at her! It was like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. Like a collector finding an undiscovered Da Vinci, like a mother looking into the face of her newborn child.

His wondering eyes made me see new things about her — how her skin looked like russet-colored silk in the firelight, how the shape of her lips was a perfect double curve, how white her teeth were against them, how long her eyelashes were, brushing her cheek when she looked down.

Kim’s skin sometimes darkened when she met Jared’s awed gaze, and her eyes would drop as if in embarrassment, but she had a hard time keeping her eyes away from his for any length of time.

Watching them, I felt like I better understood what Jacob had told me about imprinting before — it’s hard to resist that level of commitment and adoration.

Kim was nodding off now against Jared’s chest, his arms around her. I imagined she would be very warm there.

“It’s getting late,” I murmured to Jacob.

“Don’t start that yet,” Jacob whispered back — though certainly half the group here had hearing sensitive enough to hear us anyway. “The best part is coming.”

“What’s the best part? You swallowing an entire cow whole?”

Jacob chuckled his low, throaty laugh. “No. That’s the finale. We didn’t meet just to eat through a week’s worth of food. This is technically a council meeting. It’s Quil’s first time, and he hasn’t heard the stories yet. Well, he’s heard them, but this will be the first time he knows they’re true. That tends to make a guy pay closer attention. Kim and Seth and Leah are all first-timers, too.”

“Stories?”

Jacob scooted back beside me, where I rested against a low ridge of rock. He put his arm over my shoulder and spoke even lower into my ear.

“The histories we always thought were legends,” he said. “The stories of how we came to be. The first is the story of the spirit warriors.”

It was almost as if Jacob’s soft whisper was the introduction. The atmosphere changed abruptly around the low-burning fire. Paul and Embry sat up straighter. Jared nudged Kim and then pulled her gently upright.

Emily produced a spiral-bound notebook and a pen, looking exactly like a student set for an important lecture. Sam twisted just slightly beside her — so that he was facing the same direction as Old Quil, who was on his other side — and suddenly I realized that the elders of the council here were not three, but four in number.

Leah Clearwater, her face still a beautiful and emotionless mask, closed her eyes — not like she was tired, but as if to help her concentration. Her brother leaned in toward the elders eagerly.

The fire crackled, sending another explosion of sparks glittering up against the night.

Billy cleared his throat, and, with no more introduction than his son’s whisper, began telling the story in his rich, deep voice. The words poured out with precision, as if he knew them by heart, but also with feeling and a subtle rhythm. Like poetry performed by its author.

“The Quileutes have been a small people from the beginning,” Billy said. “And we are a small people still, but we have never disappeared. This is because there has always been magic in our blood. It wasn’t always the magic of shape-shifting — that came later. First, we were spirit warriors.”

Never before had I recognized the ring of majesty that was in Billy Black’s voice, though I realized now that this authority had always been there.

Emily’s pen sprinted across the sheets of paper as she tried to keep up with him.

“In the beginning, the tribe settled in this harbor and became skilled ship builders and fishermen. But the tribe was small, and the harbor was rich in fish. There were others who coveted our land, and we were too small to hold it. A larger tribe moved against us, and we took to our ships to escape them.

“Kaheleha was not the first spirit warrior, but we do not remember the stories that came before his. We do not remember who was the first to discover this power, or how it had been used before this crisis. Kaheleha was the first great Spirit Chief in our history. In this emergency, Kaheleha used the magic to defend our land.

“He and all his warriors left the ship — not their bodies, but their spirits. Their women watched over the bodies and the waves, and the men took their spirits back to our harbor.

“They could not physically touch the enemy tribe, but they had other ways. The stories tell us that they could blow fierce winds into their enemy’s camps; they could make a great screaming in the wind that terrified their foes. The stories also tell us that the animals could see the spirit warriors and understand them; the animals would do their bidding.

“Kaheleha took his spirit army and wreaked havoc on the intruders. This invading tribe had packs of big, thick-furred dogs that they used to pull their sleds in the frozen north. The spirit warriors turned the dogs against their masters and then brought a mighty infestation of bats up from the cliff caverns. They used the screaming wind to aid the dogs in confusing the men. The dogs and bats won. The survivors scattered, calling our harbor a cursed place. The dogs ran wild when the spirit warriors released them. The Quileutes returned to their bodies and their wives, victorious.

“The other nearby tribes, the Hohs and the Makahs, made treaties with the Quileutes. They wanted nothing to do with our magic. We lived in peace with them. When an enemy came against us, the spirit warriors would drive them off.

“Generations passed. Then came the last great Spirit Chief, Taha Aki. He was known for his wisdom, and for being a man of peace. The people lived well and content in his care.

“But there was one man, Utlapa, who was not content.”

A low hiss ran around the fire. I was too slow to see where it came from. Billy ignored it and went on with the legend.

“Utlapa was one of Chief Taha Aki’s strongest spirit warriors — a powerful man, but a grasping man, too. He thought the people should use their magic to expand their lands, to enslave the Hohs and the Makahs and build an empire.

“Now, when the warriors were their spirit selves, they knew each other’s thoughts. Taha Aki saw what Utlapa dreamed, and was angry with Utlapa. Utlapa was commanded to leave the people, and never use his spirit self again. Utlapa was a strong man, but the chief’s warriors outnumbered him. He had no choice but to leave. The furious outcast hid in the forest nearby, waiting for a chance to get revenge against the chief.

“Even in times of peace, the Spirit Chief was vigilant in protecting his people. Often, he would go to a sacred, secret place in the mountains. He would leave his body behind and sweep down through the forests and along the coast, making sure no threat approached.

“One day when Taha Aki left to perform this duty, Utlapa followed. At first, Utlapa simply planned to kill the chief, but this plan had its drawbacks. Surely the spirit warriors would seek to destroy him, and they could follow faster than he could escape. As he hid in the rocks and watched the chief prepare to leave his body, another plan occurred to him.

“Taha Aki left his body in the secret place and flew with the winds to keep watch over his people. Utlapa waited until he was sure the chief had traveled some distance with his spirit self.

“Taha Aki knew it the instant that Utlapa had joined him in the spirit world, and he also knew Utlapa’s murderous plan. He raced back to his secret place, but even the winds weren’t fast enough to save him. When he returned, his body was already gone. Utlapa’s body lay abandoned, but Utlapa had not left Taha Aki with an escape — he had cut his own body’s throat with Taha Aki’s hands.

“Taha Aki followed his body down the mountain. He screamed at Utlapa, but Utlapa ignored him as if he were mere wind.

“Taha Aki watched with despair as Utlapa took his place as chief of the Quileutes. For a few weeks, Utlapa did nothing but make sure that everyone believed he was Taha Aki. Then the changes began — Utlapa’s first edict was to forbid any warrior to enter the spirit world. He claimed that he’d had a vision of danger, but really he was afraid. He knew that Taha Aki would be waiting for the chance to tell his story. Utlapa was also afraid to enter the spirit world himself, knowing Taha Aki would quickly claim his body. So his dreams of conquest with a spirit warrior army were impossible, and he sought to content himself with ruling over the tribe. He became a burden — seeking privileges that Taha Aki had never requested, refusing to work alongside his warriors, taking a young second wife and then a third, though Taha Aki’s wife lived on — something unheard of in the tribe. Taha Aki watched in helpless fury.

“Eventually, Taha Aki tried to kill his body to save the tribe from Utlapa’s excesses. He brought a fierce wolf down from the mountains, but Utlapa hid behind his warriors. When the wolf killed a young man who was protecting the false chief, Taha Aki felt horrible grief. He ordered the wolf away.

“All the stories tell us that it was no easy thing to be a spirit warrior. It was more frightening than exhilarating to be freed from one’s body. This is why they only used their magic in times of need. The chief’s solitary journeys to keep watch were a burden and a sacrifice. Being bodiless was disorienting, uncomfortable, horrifying. Taha Aki had been away from his body for so long at this point that he was in agony. He felt he was doomed — never to cross over to the final land where his ancestors waited, stuck in this torturous nothingness forever.

“The great wolf followed Taha Aki’s spirit as he twisted and writhed in agony through the woods. The wolf was very large for its kind, and beautiful. Taha Aki was suddenly jealous of the dumb animal. At least it had a body. At least it had a life. Even life as an animal would be better than this horrible empty consciousness.

“And then Taha Aki had the idea that changed us all. He asked the great wolf to make room for him, to share. The wolf complied. Taka Aki entered the wolf’s body with relief and gratitude. It was not his human body, but it was better than the void of the spirit world.

“As one, the man and the wolf returned to the village on the harbor. The people ran in fear, shouting for the warriors to come. The warriors ran to meet the wolf with their spears. Utlapa, of course, stayed safely hidden.

“Taha Aki did not attack his warriors. He retreated slowly from them, speaking with his eyes and trying to yelp the songs of his people. The warriors began to realize that the wolf was no ordinary animal, that there was a spirit influencing it. One older warrior, a man name Yut, decided to disobey the false chief’s order and try to communicate with the wolf.

“As soon as Yut crossed to the spirit world, Taha Aki left the wolf — the animal waited tamely for his return — to speak to him. Yut gathered the truth in an instant, and welcomed his true chief home.

“At this time, Utlapa came to see if the wolf had been defeated. When he saw Yut lying lifeless on the ground, surrounded by protective warriors, he realized what was happening. He drew his knife and raced forward to kill Yut before he could return to his body.

“‘Traitor,’ he screamed, and the warriors did not know what to do. The chief had forbidden spirit journeys, and it was the chief’s decision how to punish those who disobeyed.

“Yut jumped back into his body, but Utlapa had his knife at his throat and a hand covering his mouth. Taha Aki’s body was strong, and Yut was weak with age. Yut could not say even one word to warn the others before Utlapa silenced him forever.

“Taha Aki watched as Yut’s spirit slipped away to the final lands that were barred to Taha Aki for all eternity. He felt a great rage, more powerful than anything he’d felt before. He entered the big wolf again, meaning to rip Utlapa’s throat out. But, as he joined the wolf, the greatest magic happened.

“Taha Aki’s anger was the anger of a man. The love he had for his people and the hatred he had for their oppressor were too vast for the wolf’s body, too human. The wolf shuddered, and — before the eyes of the shocked warriors and Utlapa — transformed into a man.

“The new man did not look like Taha Aki’s body. He was far more glorious. He was the flesh interpretation of Taha Aki’s spirit. The warriors recognized him at once, though, for they had flown with Taha Aki’s spirit.

“Utlapa tried to run, but Taha Aki had the strength of the wolf in his new body. He caught the thief and crushed the spirit from him before he could jump out of the stolen body.

“The people rejoiced when they understood what had happened. Taha Aki quickly set everything right, working again with his people and giving the young wives back to their families. The only change he kept in place was the end of the spirit travels. He knew that it was too dangerous now that the idea of stealing a life was there. The spirit warriors were no more.

“From that point on, Taha Aki was more than either wolf or man. They called him Taha Aki the Great Wolf, or Taha Aki the Spirit Man. He led the tribe for many, many years, for he did not age. When danger threatened, he would resume his wolf-self to fight or frighten the enemy. The people dwelt in peace. Taha Aki fathered many sons, and some of these found that, after they had reached the age of manhood, they, too, could transform into wolves. The wolves were all different, because they were spirit wolves and reflected the man they were inside.”

“So that’s why Sam is all black,” Quil muttered under his breath, grinning. “Black heart, black fur.”

I was so involved in the story, it was a shock to come back to the present, to the circle around the dying fire. With another shock, I realized that the circle was made up of Taha Aki’s great — to however many degrees — grandsons.

The fire threw a volley of sparks into the sky, and they shivered and danced, making shapes that were almost decipherable.

“And your chocolate fur reflects what?” Sam whispered back to Quil. “How sweet you are?”

Billy ignored their jibes. “Some of the sons became warriors with Taha Aki, and they no longer aged. Others, who did not like the transformation, refused to join the pack of wolf-men. These began to age again, and the tribe discovered that the wolf-men could grow old like anyone else if they gave up their spirit wolves. Taha Aki had lived the span of three old men’s lives. He had married a third wife after the deaths of the first two, and found in her his true spirit wife. Though he had loved the others, this was something else. He decided to give up his spirit wolf so that he would die when she did.

“That is how the magic came to us, but it is not the end of the story. . . .”

He looked at Old Quil Ateara, who shifted in his chair, straightening his frail shoulders. Billy took a drink from a bottle of water and wiped his forehead. Emily’s pen never hesitated as she scribbled furiously on the paper.

“That was the story of the spirit warriors,” Old Quil began in a thin tenor voice. “This is the story of the third wife’s sacrifice.

“Many years after Taha Aki gave up his spirit wolf, when he was an old man, trouble began in the north, with the Makahs. Several young women of their tribe had disappeared, and they blamed it on the neighboring wolves, who they feared and mistrusted. The wolf-men could still read each other’s thoughts while in their wolf forms, just like their ancestors had while in their spirit forms. They knew that none of their number was to blame. Taha Aki tried to pacify the Makah chief, but there was too much fear. Taha Aki did not want to have a war on his hands. He was no longer a warrior to lead his people. He charged his oldest wolf-son, Taha Wi, with finding the true culprit before hostilities began.

“Taha Wi led the five other wolves in his pack on a search through the mountains, looking for any evidence of the missing Makahs. They came across something they had never encountered before — a strange, sweet scent in the forest that burned their noses to the point of pain.”

I shrank a little closer to Jacob’s side. I saw the corner of his mouth twitch with humor, and his arm tightened around me.

“They did not know what creature would leave such a scent, but they followed it,” Old Quil continued. His quavering voice did not have the majesty of Billy’s, but it had a strange, fierce edge of urgency about it. My pulse jumped as his words came faster.

“They found faint traces of human scent, and human blood, along the trail. They were sure this was the enemy they were searching for.

“The journey took them so far north that Taha Wi sent half the pack, the younger ones, back to the harbor to report to Taha Aki.

“Taha Wi and his two brothers did not return.

“The younger brothers searched for their elders, but found only silence. Taha Aki mourned for his sons. He wished to avenge his sons’ death, but he was old. He went to the Makah chief in his mourning clothes and told him everything that had happened. The Makah chief believed his grief, and tensions ended between the tribes.

“A year later, two Makah maidens disappeared from their homes on the same night. The Makahs called on the Quileute wolves at once, who found the same sweet stink all through the Makah village. The wolves went on the hunt again.

“Only one came back. He was Yaha Uta, the oldest son of Taka Aki’s third wife, and the youngest in the pack. He brought something with him that had never been seen in all the days of the Quileutes — a strange, cold, stony corpse that he carried in pieces. All who were of Taha Aki’s blood, even those who had never been wolves, could smell the piercing smell of the dead creature. This was the enemy of the Makahs.

12. TIME

“I HAVE FORESEEN . . . ,” ALICE BEGAN IN AN OMINOUS tone.

Edward threw an elbow toward her ribs, which she neatly dodged.

“Fine,” she grumbled. “Edward is making me do this. But I did foresee that you would be more difficult if I surprised you.”

We were walking to the car after school, and I was completely clueless as to what she was talking about.

“In English?” I requested.

“Don’t be a baby about this. No tantrums.”

“Now I’m scared.”

“So you’re — I mean we’re — having a graduation party. It’s no big thing. Nothing to freak out over. But I saw that you would freak out if I tried to make it a surprise party” — she danced out of the way as Edward reached over to muss her hair — “and Edward said I had to tell you. But it’s nothing. Promise.”

I sighed heavily. “Is there any point in arguing?”

“None at all.”

“Okay, Alice. I’ll be there. And I’ll hate every minute of it. Promise.”

“That’s the spirit! By the way, I love my gift. You shouldn’t have.”

“Alice, I didn’t!”

“Oh, I know that. But you will.”

I racked my brains in panic, trying to remember what I’d ever decided to get her for graduation that she might have seen.

“Amazing,” Edward muttered. “How can someone so tiny be so annoying?”

Alice laughed. “It’s a talent.”

“Couldn’t you have waited a few weeks to tell me about this?” I asked petulantly. “Now I’ll just be stressed that much longer.”

Alice frowned at me.

“Bella,” she said slowly. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Monday?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes. It is Monday . . . the fourth.” She grabbed my elbow, spun me halfway around, and pointed toward a big yellow poster taped to the gym door. There, in sharp black letters, was the date of graduation. Exactly one week from today.

“It’s the fourth? Of June? Are you sure?”

Neither one answered. Alice just shook her head sadly, feigning disappointment, and Edward’s eyebrows lifted.

“It can’t be! How did that happen?” I tried to count backwards in my head, but I couldn’t figure out where the days had gone.

I felt like someone had kicked my legs out from under me. The weeks of stress, of worry . . . somehow in the middle of all my obsessing over the time, my time had disappeared. My space for sorting through it all, for making plans, had vanished. I was out of time.

And I wasn’t ready.

I didn’t know how to do this. How to say goodbye to Charlie and Renée . . . to Jacob . . . to being human.

I knew exactly what I wanted, but I was suddenly terrified of getting it.

In theory, I was anxious, even eager to trade mortality for immortality. After all, it was the key to staying with Edward forever. And then there was the fact that I was being hunted by known and unknown parties. I’d rather not sit around, helpless and delicious, waiting for one of them to catch up with me.

In theory, that all made sense.

In practice . . . being human was all I knew. The future beyond that was a big, dark abyss that I couldn’t know until I leaped into it.

This simple knowledge, today’s date — which was so obvious that I must have been subconsciously repressing it — made the deadline I’d been impatiently counting down toward feel like a date with the firing squad.

In a vague way, I was aware of Edward holding the car door for me, of Alice chattering from the backseat, of the rain hammering against the windshield. Edward seemed to realize I was only there in body; he didn’t try to pull me out of my abstraction. Or maybe he did, and I was past noticing.

We ended up at my house, where Edward led me to the sofa and pulled me down next to him. I stared out the window, into the liquid gray haze, and tried to find where my resolve had gone. Why was I panicking now? I’d known the deadline was coming. Why should it frighten me that it was here?

I don’t know how long he let me stare out the window in silence. But the rain was disappearing into darkness when it was finally too much for him.

He put his cold hands on either side of my face and fixed his golden eyes on mine.

“Would you please tell me what you are thinking? Before I go mad?”

What could I say to him? That I was a coward? I searched for words.

“Your lips are white. Talk, Bella.”

I exhaled in a big gust. How long had I been holding my breath?

“The date took me off guard,” I whispered. “That’s all.”

He waited, his face full of worry and skepticism.

I tried to explain. “I’m not sure what to do . . . what to tell Charlie . . . what to say . . . how to . . .” My voice trailed off.

“This isn’t about the party?”

I frowned. “No. But thanks for reminding me.”

The rain was louder as he read my face.

“You’re not ready,” he whispered.

“I am,” I lied immediately, a reflex reaction. I could tell he saw through it, so I took a deep breath, and told the truth. “I have to be.”

“You don’t have to be anything.”

I could feel the panic surfacing in my eyes as I mouthed the reasons. “Victoria, Jane, Caius, whoever was in my room . . . !”

“All the more reason to wait.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Edward!”

He pressed his hands more tightly to my face and spoke with slow deliberation.

“Bella. Not one of us had a choice. You’ve seen what it’s done . . . to Rosalie especially. We’ve all struggled, trying to reconcile ourselves with something we had no control over. I won’t let it be that way for you. You will have a choice.”

“I’ve already made my choice.”

“You aren’t going through with this because a sword is hanging over your head. We will take care of the problems, and I will take care of you,” he vowed. “When we’re through it, and there is nothing forcing your hand, then you can decide to join me, if you still want to. But not because you’re afraid. You won’t be forced into this.”

“Carlisle promised,” I mumbled, contrary out of habit. “After graduation.”

“Not until you’re ready,” he said in a sure voice. “And definitely not while you feel threatened.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t have it in me to argue; I couldn’t seem to find my commitment at the moment.

“There.” He kissed my forehead. “Nothing to worry about.”

I laughed a shaky laugh. “Nothing but impending doom.”

“Trust me.”

“I do.”

He was still watching my face, waiting for me to relax.

“Can I ask you something?” I said.

“Anything.”

I hesitated, biting my lip, and then asked a different question than the one I was worried about.

“What am I getting Alice for graduation?”

He snickered. “It looked like you were getting us both concert tickets —”

“That’s right!” I was so relieved, I almost smiled. “The concert in Tacoma. I saw an ad in the paper last week, and I thought it would be something you’d like, since you said it was a good CD.”

“It’s a great idea. Thank you.”

“I hope it’s not sold out.”

“It’s the thought that counts. I ought to know.”

I sighed.

“There’s something else you meant to ask,” he said.

I frowned. “You’re good.”

“I have lots of practice reading your face. Ask me.”

I closed my eyes and leaned into him, hiding my face against his chest. “You don’t want me to be a vampire.”

“No, I don’t,” he said softly, and then he waited for more. “That’s not a question,” he prompted after a moment.

“Well . . . I was worrying about . . . why you feel that way.”

“Worrying?” He picked out the word with surprise.

“Would you tell me why? The whole truth, not sparing my feelings?”

He hesitated for a minute. “If I answer your question, will you then explain your question?”

I nodded, my face still hidden.

He took a deep breath before he answered. “You could do so much better, Bella. I know that you believe I have a soul, but I’m not entirely convinced on that point, and to risk yours . . .” He shook his head slowly. “For me to allow this — to let you become what I am just so that I’ll never have to lose you — is the most selfish act I can imagine. I want it more than anything, for myself. But for you, I want so much more. Giving in — it feels criminal. It’s the most selfish thing I’ll ever do, even if I live forever.

“If there were any way for me to become human for you — no matter what the price was, I would pay it.”

I sat very still, absorbing this.

Edward thought he was being selfish.

I felt the smile slowly spread across my face.

“So . . . it’s not that you’re afraid you won’t . . . like me as much when I’m different — when I’m not soft and warm and I don’t smell the same? You really do want to keep me, no matter how I turn out?”

He exhaled sharply. “You were worried I wouldn’t like you?” he demanded. Then, before I could answer, he was laughing. “Bella, for a fairly intuitive person, you can be so obtuse!”

I knew he would think it silly, but I was relieved. If he really wanted me, I could get through the rest . . . somehow. Selfish suddenly seemed like a beautiful word.

“I don’t think you realize how much easier it will be for me, Bella,” he said, the echo of his humor still there in his voice, “when I don’t have to concentrate all the time on not killing you. Certainly, there are things I’ll miss. This for one . . .”

He stared into my eyes as he stroked my cheek, and I felt the blood rush up to color my skin. He laughed gently.

“And the sound of your heart,” he continued, more serious but still smiling a little. “It’s the most significant sound in my world. I’m so attuned to it now, I swear I could pick it out from miles away. But neither of these things matter. This,” he said, taking my face in his hands. “You. That’s what I’m keeping. You’ll always be my Bella, you’ll just be a little more durable.”

I sighed and let my eyes close in contentment, resting there in his hands.

“Now will you answer a question for me? The whole truth, not sparing my feelings?” he asked.

“Of course,” I answered at once, my eyes opening wide with surprise. What would he want to know?

He spoke the words slowly. “You don’t want to be my wife.”

My heart stopped, and then broke into a sprint. A cold sweat dewed on the back of my neck and my hands turned to ice.

He waited, watching and listening to my reaction.

“That’s not a question,” I finally whispered.

He looked down, his lashes casting long shadows across his cheekbones, and dropped his hands from my face to pick up my frozen left hand. He played with my fingers while he spoke.

“I was worrying about why you felt that way.”

I tried to swallow. “That’s not a question, either,” I whispered.

“Please, Bella?”

“The truth?” I asked, only mouthing the words.

“Of course. I can take it, whatever it is.”

I took a deep breath. “You’re going to laugh at me.”

His eyes flashed up to mine, shocked. “Laugh? I cannot imagine that.”

“You’ll see,” I muttered, and then I sighed. My face went from white to scarlet in a sudden blaze of chagrin. “Okay, fine! I’m sure this will sound like some big joke to you, but really! It’s just so . . . so . . . so embarrassing!” I confessed, and I hid my face against his chest again.

There was a brief pause.

“I’m not following you.”

I tilted my head back and glared at him, embarrassment making me lash out, belligerent.

“I’m not that girl, Edward. The one who gets married right out of high school like some small-town hick who got knocked up by her boyfriend! Do you know what people would think? Do you realize what century this is? People don’t just get married at eighteen! Not smart people, not responsible, mature people! I wasn’t going to be that girl! That’s not who I am. . . .” I trailed off, losing steam.

Edward’s face was impossible to read as he thought through my answer.

“That’s all?” he finally asked.

I blinked. “Isn’t that enough?”

“It’s not that you were . . . more eager for immortality itself than for just me?”

And then, though I’d predicted that he would laugh, I was suddenly the one having hysterics.

“Edward!” I gasped out between the paroxysms of giggles. “And here . . . I always . . . thought that . . . you were . . . so much . . . smarter than me!”

He took me in his arms, and I could feel that he was laughing with me.

“Edward,” I said, managing to speak more clearly with a little effort, “there’s no point to forever without you. I wouldn’t want one day without you.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” he said.

“Still . . . it doesn’t change anything.”

“It’s nice to understand, though. And I do understand your perspective, Bella, truly I do. But I’d like it very much if you’d try to consider mine.”

I’d sobered up by then, so I nodded and struggled to keep the frown off my face.

His liquid gold eyes turned hypnotic as they held mine.

“You see, Bella, I was always that boy. In my world, I was already a man. I wasn’t looking for love — no, I was far too eager to be a soldier for that; I thought of nothing but the idealized glory of the war that they were selling prospective draftees then — but if I had found . . .” He paused, cocking his head to the side. “I was going to say if I had found someone, but that won’t do. If I had found you, there isn’t a doubt in my mind how I would have proceeded. I was that boy, who would have — as soon as I discovered that you were what I was looking for — gotten down on one knee and endeavored to secure your hand. I would have wanted you for eternity, even when the word didn’t have quite the same connotations.”

He smiled his crooked smile at me.

I stared at him with my eyes frozen wide.

“Breathe, Bella,” he reminded me, smiling.

I breathed.

“Can you see my side, Bella, even a little bit?”

And for one second, I could. I saw myself in a long skirt and a high-necked lace blouse with my hair piled up on my head. I saw Edward looking dashing in a light suit with a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand, sitting beside me on a porch swing.

I shook my head and swallowed. I was just having Anne of Green Gables flashbacks.

13. NEWBORN

“THE SAME THING THAT HAPPENED TO YOUR HAND,” Jasper answered in a quiet voice. “Repeated a thousand times.” He laughed a little ruefully and brushed at his arm. “Our venom is the only thing that leaves a scar.”

“Why?” I breathed in horror, feeling rude but unable to stop staring at his subtly ravaged skin.

“I didn’t have quite the same . . . upbringing as my adopted siblings here. My beginning was something else entirely.” His voice turned hard as he finished.

I gaped at him, appalled.

“Before I tell you my story,” Jasper said, “you must understand that there are places in our world, Bella, where the life span of the never-aging is measured in weeks, and not centuries.”

The others had heard this before. Carlisle and Emmett turned their attention to the TV again. Alice moved silently to sit at Esme’s feet. But Edward was just as absorbed as I was; I could feel his eyes on my face, reading every flicker of emotion.

“To really understand why, you have to look at the world from a different perspective. You have to imagine the way it looks to the powerful, the greedy . . . the perpetually thirsty.

“You see, there are places in this world that are more desirable to us than others. Places where we can be less restrained, and still avoid detection.

“Picture, for instance, a map of the western hemisphere. Picture on it every human life as a small red dot. The thicker the red, the more easily we — well, those who exist this way — can feed without attracting notice.”

I shuddered at the image in my head, at the word feed. But Jasper wasn’t worried about frightening me, not overprotective like Edward always was. He went on without a pause.

“Not that the covens in the South care much for what the humans notice or do not. It’s the Volturi that keep them in check. They are the only ones the southern covens fear. If not for the Volturi, the rest of us would be quickly exposed.”

I frowned at the way he pronounced the name — with respect, almost gratitude. The idea of the Volturi as the good guys in any sense was hard to accept.

“The North is, by comparison, very civilized. Mostly we are nomads here who enjoy the day as well as the night, who allow humans to interact with us unsuspectingly — anonymity is important to us all.

“It’s a different world in the South. The immortals there come out only at night. They spend the day plotting their next move, or anticipating their enemy’s. Because it has been war in the South, constant war for centuries, with never one moment of truce. The covens there barely note the existence of humans, except as soldiers notice a herd of cows by the wayside — food for the taking. They only hide from the notice of the herd because of the Volturi.”

“But what are they fighting for?” I asked.

Jasper smiled. “Remember the map with the red dots?”

He waited, so I nodded.

“They fight for control of the thickest red.

“You see, it occurred to someone once that, if he were the only vampire in, let’s say Mexico City, well then, he could feed every night, twice, three times, and no one would ever notice. He plotted ways to get rid of the competition.

“Others had the same idea. Some came up with more effective tactics than others.

“But the most effective tactic was invented by a fairly young vampire named Benito. The first anyone ever heard of him, he came down from somewhere north of Dallas and massacred the two small covens that shared the area near Houston. Two nights later, he took on the much stronger clan of allies that claimed Monterrey in northern Mexico. Again, he won.”

“How did he win?” I asked with wary curiosity.

“Benito had created an army of newborn vampires. He was the first one to think of it, and, in the beginning, he was unstoppable. Very young vampires are volatile, wild, and almost impossible to control. One newborn can be reasoned with, taught to restrain himself, but ten, fifteen together are a nightmare. They’ll turn on each other as easily as on the enemy you point them at. Benito had to keep making more as they fought amongst themselves, and as the covens he decimated took more than half his force down before they lost.

“You see, though newborns are dangerous, they are still possible to defeat if you know what you’re doing. They’re incredibly powerful physically, for the first year or so, and if they’re allowed to bring strength to bear they can crush an older vampire with ease. But they are slaves to their instincts, and thus predictable. Usually, they have no skill in fighting, only muscle and ferocity. And in this case, overwhelming numbers.”

“The vampires in southern Mexico realized what was coming for them, and they did the only thing they could think of to counteract Benito. They made armies of their own. . . .

“All hell broke loose — and I mean that more literally than you can possibly imagine. We immortals have our histories, too, and this particular war will never be forgotten. Of course, it was not a good time to be human in Mexico, either.”

I shuddered.

“When the body count reached epidemic proportions — in fact, your histories blame a disease for the population slump — the Volturi finally stepped in. The entire guard came together and sought out every newborn in the bottom half of North America. Benito was entrenched in Puebla, building his army as quickly as he could in order to take on the prize — Mexico City. The Volturi started with him, and then moved on to the rest.

“Anyone who was found with the newborns was executed immediately, and, since everyone was trying to protect themselves from Benito, Mexico was emptied of vampires for a time.

“The Volturi were cleaning house for almost a year. This was another chapter of our history that will always be remembered, though there were very few witnesses left to speak of what it was like. I spoke to someone once who had, from a distance, watched what happened when they visited Culiacán.”

Jasper shuddered. I realized that I had never before seen him either afraid or horrified. This was a first.

“It was enough that the fever for conquest did not spread from the South. The rest of the world stayed sane. We owe the Volturi for our present way of life.

“But when the Volturi went back to Italy, the survivors were quick to stake their claims in the South.

“It didn’t take long before covens began to dispute again. There was a lot of bad blood, if you’ll forgive the expression. Vendettas abounded. The idea of newborns was already there, and some were not able to resist. However, the Volturi had not been forgotten, and the southern covens were more careful this time. The newborns were selected from the human pool with more care, and given more training. They were used circumspectly, and the humans remained, for the most part, oblivious. Their creators gave the Volturi no reason to return.

“The wars resumed, but on a smaller scale. Every now and then, someone would go too far, speculation would begin in the human newspapers, and the Volturi would return and clean out the city. But they let the others, the careful ones, continue. . . .”

Jasper was staring off into space.

“That’s how you were changed.” My realization was a whisper.

“Yes,” he agreed. “When I was human, I lived in Houston, Texas. I was almost seventeen years old when I joined the Confederate Army in 1861. I lied to the recruiters and told them I was twenty. I was tall enough to get away with it.

“My military career was short-lived, but very promising. People always . . . liked me, listened to what I had to say. My father said it was charisma. Of course, now I know it was probably something more. But, whatever the reason, I was promoted quickly through the ranks, over older, more experienced men. The Confederate Army was new and scrambling to organize itself, so that provided opportunities, as well. By the first battle of Galveston — well, it was more of a skirmish, really — I was the youngest major in Texas, not even acknowledging my real age.

“I was placed in charge of evacuating the women and children from the city when the Union’s mortar boats reached the harbor. It took a day to prepare them, and then I left with the first column of civilians to convey them to Houston.

“I remember that one night very clearly.

“We reached the city after dark. I stayed only long enough to make sure the entire party was safely situated. As soon as that was done, I got myself a fresh horse, and I headed back to Galveston. There wasn’t time to rest.

“Just a mile outside the city, I found three women on foot. I assumed they were stragglers and dismounted at once to offer them my aid. But, when I could see their faces in the dim light of the moon, I was stunned into silence. They were, without question, the three most beautiful women I had ever seen.

“They had such pale skin, I remember marveling at it. Even the little black-haired girl, whose features were clearly Mexican, was porcelain in the moonlight. They seemed young, all of them, still young enough to be called girls. I knew they were not lost members of our party. I would have remembered seeing these three.

“‘He’s speechless,’ the tallest girl said in a lovely, delicate voice — it was like wind chimes. She had fair hair, and her skin was snow white.

“The other was blonder still, her skin just as chalky. Her face was like an angel’s. She leaned toward me with half-closed eyes and inhaled deeply.

“‘Mmm,’ she sighed. ‘Lovely.’

“The small one, the tiny brunette, put her hand on the girl’s arm and spoke quickly. Her voice was too soft and musical to be sharp, but that seemed to be the way she intended it.

“‘Concentrate, Nettie,’ she said.

“I’d always had a good sense of how people related to each other, and it was immediately clear that the brunette was somehow in charge of the others. If they’d been military, I would have said that she outranked them.

“‘He looks right — young, strong, an officer. . . . ’ The brunette paused, and I tried unsuccessfully to speak. ‘And there’s something more . . . do you sense it?’ she asked the other two. ‘He’s . . . compelling.’

“‘Oh, yes,’ Nettie quickly agreed, leaning toward me again.

“‘Patience,’ the brunette cautioned her. ‘I want to keep this one.’

“Nettie frowned; she seemed annoyed.

“‘You’d better do it, Maria,’ the taller blonde spoke again. ‘If he’s important to you. I kill them twice as often as I keep them.’

“‘Yes, I’ll do it,’ Maria agreed. ‘I really do like this one. Take Nettie away, will you? I don’t want to have to protect my back while I’m trying to focus.’

“My hair was standing up on the back of my neck, though I didn’t understand the meaning of anything the beautiful creatures were saying. My instincts told me that there was danger, that the angel had meant it when she spoke of killing, but my judgment overruled my instincts. I had not been taught to fear women, but to protect them.

“‘Let’s hunt,’ Nettie agreed enthusiastically, reaching for the tall girl’s hand. They wheeled — they were so graceful! — and sprinted toward the city. They seemed to almost take flight, they were so fast — their white dresses blew out behind them like wings. I blinked in amazement, and they were gone.

“I turned to stare at Maria, who was watching me curiously.

“I’d never been superstitious in my life. Until that second, I’d never believed in ghosts or any other such nonsense. Suddenly, I was unsure.

“‘What is your name, soldier?’ Maria asked me.

“‘Major Jasper Whitlock, ma’am,’ I stammered, unable to be impolite to a female, even if she was a ghost.

“‘I truly hope you survive, Jasper,’ she said in her gentle voice. ‘I have a good feeling about you.’

“She took a step closer, and inclined her head as if she were going to kiss me. I stood frozen in place, though my instincts were screaming at me to run.”

Jasper paused, his face thoughtful. “A few days later,” he finally said, and I wasn’t sure if he had edited his story for my sake or because he was responding to the tension that even I could feel exuding from Edward, “I was introduced to my new life.

“Their names were Maria, Nettie, and Lucy. They hadn’t been together long — Maria had rounded up the other two — all three were survivors of recently lost battles. Theirs was a partnership of convenience. Maria wanted revenge, and she wanted her territories back. The others were eager to increase their . . . herd lands, I suppose you could say. They were putting together an army, and going about it more carefully than was usual. It was Maria’s idea. She wanted a superior army, so she sought out specific humans who had potential. Then she gave us much more attention, more training than anyone else had bothered with. She taught us to fight, and she taught us to be invisible to the humans. When we did well, we were rewarded. . . .”

He paused, editing again.

“She was in a hurry, though. Maria knew that the massive strength of the newborn began to wane around the year mark, and she wanted to act while we were strong.

“There were six of us when I joined Maria’s band. She added four more within a fortnight. We were all male — Maria wanted soldiers — and that made it slightly more difficult to keep from fighting amongst ourselves. I fought my first battles against my new comrades in arms. I was quicker than the others, better at combat. Maria was pleased with me, though put out that she had to keep replacing the ones I destroyed. I was rewarded often, and that made me stronger.

“Maria was a good judge of character. She decided to put me in charge of the others — as if I were being promoted. It suited my nature exactly. The casualties went down dramatically, and our numbers swelled to hover around twenty.

“This was considerable for the cautious times we lived in. My ability, as yet undefined, to control the emotional atmosphere around me was vitally effective. We soon began to work together in a way that newborn vampires had never cooperated before. Even Maria, Nettie, and Lucy were able to work together more easily.

“Maria grew quite fond of me — she began to depend upon me. And, in some ways, I worshipped the ground she walked on. I had no idea that any other life was possible. Maria told us this was the way things were, and we believed.

“She asked me to tell her when my brothers and I were ready to fight, and I was eager to prove myself. I pulled together an army of twenty-three in the end — twenty-three unbelievably strong new vampires, organized and skilled as no others before. Maria was ecstatic.

“We crept down toward Monterrey, her former home, and she unleashed us on her enemies. They had only nine newborns at the time, and a pair of older vampires controlling them. We took them down more easily than Maria could believe, losing only four in the process. It was an unheard-of margin of victory.

“And we were well trained. We did it without attracting notice. The city changed hands without any human being aware.

“Success made Maria greedy. It wasn’t long before she began to eye other cities. That first year, she extended her control to cover most of Texas and northern Mexico. Then the others came from the South to dislodge her.”

He brushed two fingers along the faint pattern of scars on his arm.

“The fighting was intense. Many began to worry that the Volturi would return. Of the original twenty-three, I was the only one to survive the first eighteen months. We both won and lost. Nettie and Lucy turned on Maria eventually — but that one we won.

“Maria and I were able to hold on to Monterrey. It quieted a little, though the wars continued. The idea of conquest was dying out; it was mostly vengeance and feuding now. So many had lost their partners, and that is something our kind does not forgive. . . .

“Maria and I always kept a dozen or so newborns ready. They meant little to us — they were pawns, they were disposable. When they outgrew their usefulness, we did dispose of them. My life continued in the same violent pattern and the years passed. I was sick of it all for a very long time before anything changed . . .

“Decades later, I developed a friendship with a newborn who’d remained useful and survived his first three years, against the odds. His name was Peter. I liked Peter; he was . . . civilized — I suppose that’s the right word. He didn’t enjoy the fight, though he was good at it.

“He was assigned to deal with the newborns — babysit them, you could say. It was a full-time job.

“And then it was time to purge again. The newborns were outgrowing their strength; they were due to be replaced. Peter was supposed to help me dispose of them. We took them aside individually, you see, one by one . . . It was always a very long night. This time, he tried to convince me that a few had potential, but Maria had instructed that we get rid of them all. I told him no.

“We were about halfway through, and I could feel that it was taking a great toll on Peter. I was trying to decide whether or not I should send him away and finish up myself as I called out the next victim. To my surprise, he was suddenly angry, furious. I braced for whatever his mood might foreshadow — he was a good fighter, but he was never a match for me.

“The newborn I’d summoned was a female, just past her year mark. Her name was Charlotte. His feelings changed when she came into view; they gave him away. He yelled for her to run, and he bolted after her. I could have pursued them, but I didn’t. I felt . . . averse to destroying him.

“Maria was irritated with me for that . . .

“Five years later, Peter snuck back for me. He picked a good day to arrive.

“Maria was mystified by my ever-deteriorating frame of mind. She’d never felt a moment’s depression, and I wondered why I was different. I began to notice a change in her emotions when she was near me — sometimes there was fear . . . and malice — the same feelings that had given me advance warning when Nettie and Lucy struck. I was preparing myself to destroy my only ally, the core of my existence, when Peter returned.

“Peter told me about his new life with Charlotte, told me about options I’d never dreamed I had. In five years, they’d never had a fight, though they’d met many others in the north. Others who could co-exist without the constant mayhem.

“In one conversation, he had me convinced. I was ready to go, and somewhat relieved I wouldn’t have to kill Maria. I’d been her companion for as many years as Carlisle and Edward have been together, yet the bond between us was nowhere near as strong. When you live for the fight, for the blood, the relationships you form are tenuous and easily broken. I walked away without a backward glance.

14. DECLARATION

“YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS,” I SAID WEDNESDAY AFTERnoon. “You’ve completely lost your mind!”

“Say whatever you like about me,” Alice answered. “The party is still on.”

I stared at her, my eyes so wide with disbelief it felt like they might fall out and land on my lunch tray.

“Oh, calm down, Bella! There’s no reason not to go through with it. Besides, the invitations are already sent.”

“But . . . the . . . you . . . I . . . insane!” I spluttered.

“You’ve already bought my present,” she reminded me. “You don’t have to do anything but show up.”

I made an effort to calm myself. “With everything that is going on right now, a party is hardly appropriate.”

“Graduation is what’s going on right now, and a party is so appropriate it’s almost passé.”

“Alice!”

She sighed, and tried to be serious. “There are a few things we need to get in order now, and that’s going to take a little time. As long as we’re sitting here waiting, we might as well commemorate the good stuff. You’re only going to graduate from high school — for the first time — once. You don’t get to be human again, Bella. This is a once-in-a-lifetime shot.”

Edward, silent through our little argument, flashed her a warning look. She stuck out her tongue at him. She was right — her soft voice would never carry over the babble of the cafeteria. And no one would understand the meaning behind her words in any case.

“What few things do we need to get in order?” I asked, refusing to be sidetracked.

Edward answered in a low voice. “Jasper thinks we could use some help. Tanya’s family isn’t the only choice we have. Carlisle’s trying to track down a few old friends, and Jasper is looking up Peter and Charlotte. He’s considering talking to Maria . . . but no one really wants to involve the southerners.”

Alice shuddered delicately.

“It shouldn’t be too hard to convince them to help,” he continued. “Nobody wants a visit from Italy.”

“But these friends — they’re not going to be . . . vegetarians, right?” I protested, using the Cullens’ tongue-in-cheek nickname for themselves.

“No,” Edward answered, suddenly expressionless.

“Here? In Forks?”

“They’re friends,” Alice reassured me. “Everything’s going to be fine. Don’t worry. And then, Jasper has to teach us a few courses on newborn elimination. . . .”

Edward’s eyes brightened at that, and a brief smile flashed across his face. My stomach suddenly felt like it was full of sharp little splinters of ice.

“When are you going?” I asked in a hollow voice. I couldn’t stand this — the idea that someone might not come back. What if it was Emmett, so brave and thoughtless that he was never the least bit cautious? Or Esme, so sweet and motherly that I couldn’t even imagine her in a fight? Or Alice, so tiny, so fragile-looking? Or . . . but I couldn’t even think the name, consider the possibility.

“A week,” Edward said casually. “That ought to give us enough time.”

The icy splinters twisted uncomfortably in my stomach. I was suddenly nauseated.

“You look kind of green, Bella,” Alice commented.

Edward put his arm around me and pulled me tightly against his side. “It’s going to be fine, Bella. Trust me.”

Sure, I thought to myself. Trust him. He wasn’t the one who was going to have to sit behind and wonder whether or not the core of his existence was going to come home.

And then it occurred to me. Maybe I didn’t need to sit behind. A week was more than enough time.

“You’re looking for help,” I said slowly.

“Yes.” Alice’s head cocked to the side as she processed the change in my tone.

I looked only at her as I answered. My voice was just slightly louder than a whisper. “I could help.”

Edward’s body was suddenly rigid, his arm too tight around me. He exhaled, and the sound was a hiss.

But it was Alice, still calm, who answered. “That really wouldn’t be helpful.”

“Why not?” I argued; I could hear the desperation in my voice. “Eight is better than seven. There’s more than enough time.”

“There’s not enough time to make you helpful, Bella,” she disagreed coolly. “Do you remember how Jasper described the young ones? You’d be no good in a fight. You wouldn’t be able to control your instincts, and that would make you an easy target. And then Edward would get hurt trying to protect you.” She folded her arms across her chest, pleased with her unassailable logic.

And I knew she was right, when she put it like that. I slumped in my seat, my sudden hope defeated. Beside me, Edward relaxed.

He whispered the reminder in my ear. “Not because you’re afraid.”

“Oh,” Alice said, and a blank look crossed her face. Then her expression became surly. “I hate last-minute cancellations. So that puts the party attendance list down to sixty-five. . . .”

“Sixty-five!” My eyes bulged again. I didn’t have that many friends. Did I even know that many people?

“Who canceled?” Edward wondered, ignoring me.

“Renée.”

“What?” I gasped.

“She was going to surprise you for your graduation, but something went wrong. You’ll have a message when you get home.”

For a moment, I just let myself enjoy the relief. Whatever it was that went wrong for my mother, I was eternally grateful to it. If she had come to Forks now . . . I didn’t want to think about it. My head would explode.

The message light was flashing when I got home. My feeling of relief flared again as I listened to my mother describe Phil’s accident on the ball field — while demonstrating a slide, he’d tangled up with the catcher and broken his thigh bone; he was entirely dependent on her, and there was no way she could leave him. My mom was still apologizing when the message cut off.

“Well, that’s one,” I sighed.

“One what?” Edward asked.

“One person I don’t have to worry about getting killed this week.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Why won’t you and Alice take this seriously?” I demanded. “This is serious.”

He smiled. “Confidence.”

“Wonderful,” I grumbled. I picked up the phone and dialed Renée’s number. I knew it would be a long conversation, but I also knew that I wouldn’t have to contribute much.

I just listened, and reassured her every time I could get a word in: I wasn’t disappointed, I wasn’t mad, I wasn’t hurt. She should concentrate on helping Phil get better. I passed on my “get well soon” to Phil, and promised to call her with every single detail from Forks High’s generic graduation. Finally, I had to use my desperate need to study for finals to get off the phone.

Edward’s patience was endless. He waited politely through the whole conversation, just playing with my hair and smiling whenever I looked up. It was probably superficial to notice such things while I had so many more important things to think about, but his smile still knocked the breath out of me. He was so beautiful that it made it hard sometimes to think about anything else, hard to concentrate on Phil’s troubles or Renée’s apologies or hostile vampire armies. I was only human.

As soon as I hung up, I stretched onto my tiptoes to kiss him. He put his hands around my waist and lifted me onto the kitchen counter, so I wouldn’t have to reach as far. That worked for me. I locked my arms around his neck and melted against his cold chest.

Too soon, as usual, he pulled away.

I felt my face slip into a pout. He laughed at my expression as he extricated himself from my arms and legs. He leaned against the counter next to me and put one arm lightly around my shoulders.

“I know you think that I have some kind of perfect, unyielding self-control, but that’s not actually the case.”

“I wish,” I sighed.

And he sighed, too.

“After school tomorrow,” he said, changing the subject, “I’m going hunting with Carlisle, Esme, and Rosalie. Just for a few hours — we’ll stay close. Alice, Jasper, and Emmett should be able to keep you safe.”

“Ugh,” I grumbled. Tomorrow was the first day of finals, and it was only a half-day. I had Calculus and History — the only two challenges in my line-up — so I’d have almost the whole day without him, and nothing to do but worry. “I hate being babysat.”

“It’s temporary,” he promised.

“Jasper will be bored. Emmett will make fun of me.”

“They’ll be on their best behavior.”

“Right,” I grumbled.

And then it occurred to me that I did have one option besides babysitters. “You know . . . I haven’t been to La Push since the bonfire.”

I watched his face carefully for any change in expression. His eyes tightened the tiniest bit.

“I’d be safe enough there,” I reminded him.

He thought about it for a few seconds. “You’re probably right.”

His face was calm, but just a little too smooth. I almost asked if he’d rather I stayed here, but then I thought of the ribbing Emmett would no doubt dish out, and I changed the subject. “Are you thirsty already?” I asked, reaching up to stroke the light shadow beneath his eye. His irises were still a deep gold.

“Not really.” He seemed reluctant to answer, and that surprised me. I waited for an explanation.

“We want to be as strong as possible,” he explained, still reluctant. “We’ll probably hunt again on the way, looking for big game.”

“That makes you stronger?”

He searched my face for something, but there was nothing to find but curiosity.

“Yes,” he finally said. “Human blood makes us the strongest, though only fractionally. Jasper’s been thinking about cheating — adverse as he is to the idea, he’s nothing if not practical — but he won’t suggest it. He knows what Carlisle will say.”

“Would that help?” I asked quietly.

“It doesn’t matter. We aren’t going to change who we are.”

I frowned. If something helped even the odds . . . and then I shuddered, realizing I was willing to have a stranger die to protect him. I was horrified at myself, but not entirely able to deny it, either.

He changed the subject again. “That’s why they’re so strong, of course. The newborns are full of human blood — their own blood, reacting to the change. It lingers in the tissues and strengthens them. Their bodies use it up slowly, like Jasper said, the strength starting to wane after about a year.”

“How strong will I be?”

He grinned. “Stronger than I am.”

“Stronger than Emmett?”

The grin got bigger. “Yes. Do me a favor and challenge him to an arm-wrestling match. It would be a good experience for him.”

I laughed. It sounded so ridiculous.

Then I sighed and hopped down from the counter, because I really couldn’t put it off any longer. I had to cram, and cram hard. Luckily I had Edward’s help, and Edward was an excellent tutor — since he knew absolutely everything. I figured my biggest problem would be just focusing on the tests. If I didn’t watch myself, I might end up writing my History essay on the vampire wars of the South.

I took a break to call Jacob, and Edward seemed just as comfortable as he had when I was on the phone with Renée. He played with my hair again.

Though it was the middle of the afternoon, my call woke Jacob up, and he was grouchy at first. He cheered right up when I asked if I could visit the next day. The Quileute school was already out for the summer, so he told me to come over as early as I could. I was pleased to have an option besides being babysat. There was a tiny bit more dignity in spending the day with Jacob.

Some of that dignity was lost when Edward insisted again on delivering me to the border line like a child being exchanged by custodial guardians.

“So how do you feel you did on your exams?” Edward asked on the way, making small talk.

“History was easy, but I don’t know about the Calculus. It seemed like it was making sense, so that probably means I failed.”

He laughed. “I’m sure you did fine. Or, if you’re really worried, I could bribe Mr. Varner to give you an A.”

“Er, thanks, but no thanks.”

He laughed again, but suddenly stopped when we turned the last bend and saw the red car waiting. He frowned in concentration, and then, as he parked the car, he sighed.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, my hand on the door.

He shook his head. “Nothing.” His eyes were narrowed as he stared through the windshield toward the other car. I’d seen that look before.

“You’re not listening to Jacob, are you?” I accused.

“It’s not easy to ignore someone when he’s shouting.”

“Oh.” I thought about that for a second. “What’s he shouting?” I whispered.

“I’m absolutely certain he’ll mention it himself,” Edward said in a wry tone.

I would have pressed the issue, but then Jacob honked his horn — two quick impatient honks.

“That’s impolite,” Edward growled.

“That’s Jacob,” I sighed, and I hurried out before Jacob did something to really set Edward’s teeth on edge.

15. WAGER

I STARED AT HIM FOR A LONG MINUTE, SPEECHLESS. I could not think of one thing to say to him.

As he watched my dumbfounded expression, the seriousness left his face.

“Okay,” he said, grinning. “That’s all.”

“Jake —” It felt like there was something big sticking in my throat. I tried to clear the obstruction. “I can’t — I mean I don’t . . . I have to go.”

I turned, but he grabbed my shoulders and spun me around.

“No, wait. I know that, Bella. But, look, answer me this, all right? Do you want me to go away and never see you again? Be honest.”

It was hard to concentrate on his question, so it took a minute to answer. “No, I don’t want that,” I finally admitted.

Jacob grinned again. “See.”

“But I don’t want you around for the same reason that you want me around,” I objected.

“Tell me exactly why you want me around, then.”

I thought carefully. “I miss you when you’re not there. When you’re happy,” I qualified carefully, “it makes me happy. But I could say the same thing about Charlie, Jacob. You’re family. I love you, but I’m not in love with you.”

He nodded, unruffled. “But you do want me around.”

“Yes.” I sighed. He was impossible to discourage.

“Then I’ll stick around.”

“You’re a glutton for punishment,” I grumbled.

“Yep.” He stroked the tips of his fingers across my right cheek. I slapped his hand away.

“Do you think you could behave yourself a little better, at least?” I asked, irritated.

“No, I don’t. You decide, Bella. You can have me the way I am — bad behavior included — or not at all.”

I stared at him, frustrated. “That’s mean.”

“So are you.”

That pulled me up short, and I took an involuntary step back. He was right. If I wasn’t mean — and greedy, too — I would tell him I didn’t want to be friends and walk away. It was wrong to try to keep my friend when that would hurt him. I didn’t know what I was doing here, but I was suddenly sure that it wasn’t good.

“You’re right,” I whispered.

He laughed. “I forgive you. Just try not to get too mad at me. Because I recently decided that I’m not giving up. There really is something irresistible about a lost cause.”

“Jacob.” I stared into his dark eyes, trying to make him take me seriously. “I love him, Jacob. He’s my whole life.”

“You love me, too,” he reminded me. He held up his hand when I started to protest. “Not the same way, I know. But he’s not your whole life, either. Not anymore. Maybe he was once, but he left. And now he’s just going to have to deal with the consequence of that choice — me.”

I shook my head. “You’re impossible.”

Suddenly, he was serious. He took my chin in his hand, holding it firmly so that I couldn’t look away from his intent gaze.

“Until your heart stops beating, Bella,” he said. “I’ll be here — fighting. Don’t forget that you have options.”

“I don’t want options,” I disagreed, trying to yank my chin free unsuccessfully. “And my heartbeats are numbered, Jacob. The time is almost gone.”

His eyes narrowed. “All the more reason to fight — fight harder now, while I can,” he whispered.

He still had my chin — his fingers holding too tight, till it hurt — and I saw the resolve form abruptly in his eyes.

“N —” I started to object, but it was too late.

His lips crushed mine, stopping my protest. He kissed me angrily, roughly, his other hand gripping tight around the back of my neck, making escape impossible. I shoved against his chest with all my strength, but he didn’t even seem to notice. His mouth was soft, despite the anger, his lips molding to mine in a warm, unfamiliar way.

I grabbed at his face, trying to push it away, failing again. He seemed to notice this time, though, and it aggravated him. His lips forced mine open, and I could feel his hot breath in my mouth.

Acting on instinct, I let my hands drop to my side, and shut down. I opened my eyes and didn’t fight, didn’t feel . . . just waited for him to stop.

It worked. The anger seemed to evaporate, and he pulled back to look at me. He pressed his lips softly to mine again, once, twice . . . a third time. I pretended I was a statue and waited.

Finally, he let go of my face and leaned away.

“Are you done now?” I asked in an expressionless voice.

“Yes,” he sighed. He started to smile, closing his eyes.

I pulled my arm back and then let it snap forward, punching him in the mouth with as much power as I could force out of my body.

There was a crunching sound.

“Ow! OW!” I screamed, frantically hopping up and down in agony while I clutched my hand to my chest. It was broken, I could feel it.

Jacob stared at me in shock. “Are you all right?”

“No, dammit! You broke my hand!”

“Bella, you broke your hand. Now stop dancing around and let me look at it.”

“Don’t touch me! I’m going home right now!”

“I’ll get my car,” he said calmly. He wasn’t even rubbing his jaw like they did in the movies. How pathetic.

“No, thanks,” I hissed. “I’d rather walk.” I turned toward the road. It was only a few miles to the border. As soon as I got away from him, Alice would see me. She’d send somebody to pick me up.

“Just let me drive you home,” Jacob insisted. Unbelievably, he had the nerve to wrap his arm around my waist.

I jerked away from him.

“Fine!” I growled. “Do! I can’t wait to see what Edward does to you! I hope he snaps your neck, you pushy, obnoxious, moronic DOG!”

Jacob rolled his eyes. He walked me to the passenger side of his car and helped me in. When he got in the driver’s side, he was whistling.

“Didn’t I hurt you at all?” I asked, furious and annoyed.

“Are you kidding? If you hadn’t started screaming, I might not have figured out that you were trying to punch me. I may not be made out of stone, but I’m not that soft.”

“I hate you, Jacob Black.”

“That’s good. Hate is a passionate emotion.”

“I’ll give you passionate,” I muttered under my breath. “Murder, the ultimate crime of passion.”

“Oh, c’mon,” he said, all cheery and looking like he was about to start whistling again. “That had to be better than kissing a rock.”

“Not even remotely close,” I told him coldly.

He pursed his lips. “You could just be saying that.”

“But I’m not.”

That seemed to bother him for a second, but then he perked up. “You’re just mad. I don’t have any experience with this kind of thing, but I thought it was pretty incredible myself.”

“Ugh,” I groaned.

“You’re going to think about it tonight. When he thinks you’re asleep, you’ll be thinking about your options.”

“If I think about you tonight, it will be because I’m having a nightmare.”

He slowed the car to a crawl, turning to stare at me with his dark eyes wide and earnest. “Just think about how it could be, Bella,” he urged in a soft, eager voice. “You wouldn’t have to change anything for me. You know Charlie would be happy if you picked me. I could protect you just as well as your vampire can — maybe better. And I would make you happy, Bella. There’s so much I could give you that he can’t. I’ll bet he couldn’t even kiss you like that — because he would hurt you. I would never, never hurt you, Bella.”

I held up my injured hand.

He sighed. “That wasn’t my fault. You should have known better.”

“Jacob, I can’t be happy without him.”

“You’ve never tried,” he disagreed. “When he left, you spent all your energy holding on to him. You could be happy if you let go. You could be happy with me.”

“I don’t want to be happy with anyone but him,” I insisted.

“You’ll never be able to be as sure of him as you are of me. He left you once, he could do it again.”

“No, he will not,” I said through my teeth. The pain of the memory bit into me like the lash of a whip. It made me want to hurt him back. “You left me once,” I reminded him in a cold voice, thinking of the weeks he’d hidden from me, the words he’d said to me in the woods beside his home. . . .

“I never did,” he argued hotly. “They told me I couldn’t tell you — that it wasn’t safe for you if we were together. But I never left, never! I used to run around your house at night — like I do now. Just making sure you were okay.”

I wasn’t about to let him make me feel bad for him now.

“Take me home. My hand hurts.”

He sighed, and started driving at a normal speed, watching the road.

“Just think about it, Bella.”

“No,” I said stubbornly.

“You will. Tonight. And I’ll be thinking about you while you’re thinking about me.”

“Like I said, a nightmare.”

He grinned over at me. “You kissed me back.”

I gasped, unthinkingly balling my hands up into fists again, hissing when my broken hand reacted.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I did not.”

“I think I can tell the difference.”

“Obviously you can’t — that was not kissing back, that was trying to get you the hell off of me, you idiot.”

He laughed a low, throaty laugh. “Touchy. Almost overly defensive, I would say.”

I took a deep breath. There was no point in arguing with him; he would twist anything I said. I concentrated on my hand, trying to stretch out my fingers, to ascertain where the broken parts were. Sharp pains stabbed along my knuckles. I groaned.

“I’m really sorry about your hand,” Jacob said, sounding almost sincere. “Next time you want to hit me, use a baseball bat or a crowbar, okay?”

“Don’t think I’ll forget that,” I muttered.

I didn’t realize where we were going until we were on my road.

“Why are you taking me here?” I demanded.

He looked at me blankly. “I thought you said you were going home?”

“Ugh. I guess you can’t take me to Edward’s house, can you?” I ground my teeth in frustration.

Pain twisted across his face, and I could see that this affected him more than anything else I’d said.

“This is your home, Bella,” he said quietly.

“Yes, but do any doctors live here?” I asked, holding up my hand again.

“Oh.” He thought about that for a minute. “I’ll take you to the hospital. Or Charlie can.”

“I don’t want to go to the hospital. It’s embarrassing and unnecessary.”

He let the Rabbit idle in front of the house, deliberating with an unsure expression. Charlie’s cruiser was in the driveway.

I sighed. “Go home, Jacob.”

I climbed out of the car awkwardly, heading for the house. The engine cut off behind me, and I was less surprised than annoyed to find Jacob beside me again.

“What are you going to do?” he asked.

“I am going to get some ice on my hand, and then I am going to call Edward and tell him to come and get me and take me to Carlisle so that he can fix my hand. Then, if you’re still here, I am going to go hunt up a crowbar.”

He didn’t answer. He opened the front door and held it for me.

We walked silently past the front room where Charlie was lying on the sofa.

“Hey, kids,” he said, sitting forward. “Nice to see you here, Jake.”

“Hey, Charlie,” Jacob answered casually, pausing. I stalked on to the kitchen.

“What’s wrong with her?” Charlie wondered.

“She thinks she broke her hand,” I heard Jacob tell him. I went to the freezer and pulled out a tray of ice cubes.

“How did she do that?” As my father, I thought Charlie ought to sound a bit less amused and a bit more concerned.

Jacob laughed. “She hit me.”

Charlie laughed, too, and I scowled while I beat the tray against the edge of the sink. The ice scattered inside the basin, and I grabbed a handful with my good hand and wrapped the cubes in the dishcloth on the counter.

“Why did she hit you?”

“Because I kissed her,” Jacob said, unashamed.

“Good for you, kid,” Charlie congratulated him.

I ground my teeth and went for the phone. I dialed Edward’s cell.

“Bella?” he answered on the first ring. He sounded more than relieved — he was delighted. I could hear the Volvo’s engine in the background; he was already in the car — that was good. “You left the phone . . . I’m sorry, did Jacob drive you home?”

“Yes,” I grumbled. “Will you come and get me, please?”

“I’m on my way,” he said at once. “What’s wrong?”

“I want Carlisle to look at my hand. I think it’s broken.”

It had gone quiet in the front room, and I wondered when Jacob would bolt. I smiled a grim smile, imagining his discomfort.

“What happened?” Edward demanded, his voice going flat.

“I punched Jacob,” I admitted.

“Good,” Edward said bleakly. “Though I’m sorry you’re hurt.”

I laughed once, because he sounded as pleased as Charlie had.

“I wish I’d hurt him.” I sighed in frustration. “I didn’t do any damage at all.”

“I can fix that,” he offered.

“I was hoping you would say that.”

There was a slight pause. “That doesn’t sound like you,” he said, wary now. “What did he do?”

“He kissed me,” I growled.

All I heard on the other end of the line was the sound of an engine accelerating.

In the other room, Charlie spoke again. “Maybe you ought to take off, Jake,” he suggested.

“I think I’ll hang out here, if you don’t mind.”

“Your funeral,” Charlie muttered.

“Is the dog still there?” Edward finally spoke again.

“Yes.”

“I’m around the corner,” he said darkly, and the line disconnected.

16. EPOCH

“I HAVE NOTHING TO WEAR!” I MOANED TO MYSELF.

Every item of clothing I owned was strewn across my bed; my drawers and closets were bare. I stared into the empty recesses, willing something suitable to appear.

My khaki skirt lay over the back of the rocking chair, waiting for me to discover something that went with it just exactly right. Something that would make me look beautiful and grown up. Something that said special occasion. I was coming up empty.

It was almost time to go, and I was still wearing my favorite old sweats. Unless I could find something better here — and the odds weren’t looking good at this point — I was going to graduate in them.

I scowled at the pile of clothes on my bed.

The kicker was that I knew exactly what I would have worn if it were still available — my kidnapped red blouse. I punched the wall with my good hand.

“Stupid, thieving, annoying vampire!” I growled.

“What did I do?” Alice demanded.

She was leaning casually beside the open window as if she’d been there the whole time.

“Knock, knock,” she added with a grin.

“Is it really so hard to wait for me to get the door?”

She threw a flat, white box onto my bed. “I’m just passing through. I thought you might need something to wear.”

I looked at the big package lying on top of my unsatisfying wardrobe and grimaced.

“Admit it,” Alice said. “I’m a lifesaver.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” I muttered. “Thanks.”

“Well, it’s nice to get something right for a change. You don’t know how irritating it is — missing things the way I have been. I feel so useless. So . . . normal.” She cringed in horror of the word.

“I can’t imagine how awful that must feel. Being normal? Ugh.”

She laughed. “Well, at least this makes up for missing your annoying thief — now I just have to figure out what I’m not seeing in Seattle.”

When she said the words that way — putting the two situations together in one sentence — right then it clicked. The elusive something that had been bothering me for days, the important connection that I couldn’t quite put together, suddenly became clear. I stared at her, my face frozen with whatever expression was already in place.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” she asked. She sighed when I didn’t move immediately, and tugged the top of the box off herself. She pulled something out and held it up, but I couldn’t concentrate on what it was. “Pretty, don’t you think? I picked blue, because I know it’s Edward’s favorite on you.”

I wasn’t listening.

“It’s the same,” I whispered.

“What is?” she demanded. “You don’t have anything like this. For crying out loud, you only own one skirt!”

“No, Alice! Forget the clothes, listen!”

“You don’t like it?” Alice’s face clouded with disappointment.

“Listen, Alice, don’t you see? It’s the same! The one who broke in and stole my things, and the new vampires in Seattle. They’re together!”

The clothes slipped from her fingers and fell back into the box.

Alice focused now, her voice suddenly sharp. “Why do you think that?”

“Remember what Edward said? About someone using the holes in your vision to keep you from seeing the newborns? And then what you said before, about the timing being too perfect — how careful my thief was to make no contact, as if he knew you would see that. I think you were right, Alice, I think he did know. I think he was using those holes, too. And what are the odds that two different people not only know enough about you to do that, but also decided to do it at exactly the same time? No way. It’s one person. The same one. The one who is making the army is the one who stole my scent.”

Alice wasn’t accustomed to being taking by surprise. She froze, and was still for so long that I started counting in my head as I waited. She didn’t move for two minutes straight. Then her eyes refocused on me.

“You’re right,” she said in a hollow tone. “Of course you’re right. And when you put it that way. . . .”

“Edward had it wrong,” I whispered. “It was a test . . . to see if it would work. If he could get in and out safely as long as he didn’t do anything you would be watching out for. Like trying to kill me. . . . And he didn’t take my things to prove he’d found me. He stole my scent . . . so that others could find me.”

Her eyes were wide with shock. I was right, and I could see that she knew it, too.

“Oh, no,” she mouthed.

I was through expecting my emotions to make sense anymore. As I processed the fact that someone had created an army of vampires — the army that had gruesomely murdered dozens of people in Seattle — for the express purpose of destroying me, I felt a spasm of relief.

Part of it was finally solving that irritating feeling that I was missing something vital.

But the larger part was something else entirely.

“Well,” I whispered, “everyone can relax. Nobody’s trying to exterminate the Cullens after all.”

“If you think that one thing has changed, you’re absolutely wrong,” Alice said through her teeth. “If someone wants one of us, they’re going to have to go through the rest of us to get to her.”

“Thanks, Alice. But at least we know what they’re really after. That has to help.”

“Maybe,” she muttered. She started pacing back and forth across my room.

Thud, thud — a fist hammered against my door.

I jumped. Alice didn’t seem to notice.

“Aren’t you ready yet? We’re gonna be late!” Charlie complained, sounding edgy. Charlie hated occasions about as much as I did. In his case, a lot of the problem was having to dress up.

“Almost. Give me a minute,” I said hoarsely.

He was quiet for half a second. “Are you crying?”

“No. I’m nervous. Go away.”

I heard him clump down the stairs.

“I have to go,” Alice whispered.

“Why?”

“Edward is coming. If he hears this . . .”

“Go, go!” I urged immediately. Edward would go berserk when he knew. I couldn’t keep it from him for long, but maybe the graduation ceremony wasn’t the best time for his reaction.

“Put it on,” Alice commanded as she flitted out the window.

I did what she said, dressing in a daze.

I’d been planning to do something more sophisticated with my hair, but time was up, so it hung straight and boring as on any other day. It didn’t matter. I didn’t bother to look in the mirror, so I had no idea how Alice’s sweater and skirt ensemble worked. That didn’t matter, either. I threw the ugly yellow polyester graduation robe over my arm and hurried down the stairs.

“You look nice,” Charlie said, already gruff with suppressed emotion. “Is that new?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, trying to concentrate. “Alice gave it to me. Thanks.”

Edward arrived just a few minutes after his sister left. It wasn’t enough time for me to pull together a calm façade. But, since we were riding in the cruiser with Charlie, he never had a chance to ask me what was wrong.

Charlie had gotten stubborn last week when he’d learned that I was intending to ride with Edward to the graduation ceremony. And I could see his point — parents should have some rights come graduation day. I’d conceded with good grace, and Edward had cheerfully suggested that we all go together. Since Carlisle and Esme had no problem with this, Charlie couldn’t come up with a compelling objection; he’d agreed with poor grace. And now Edward rode in the backseat of my father’s police car, behind the fiberglass divider, with an amused expression — probably due to my father’s amused expression, and the grin that widened every time Charlie stole a glance at Edward in his rearview mirror. Which almost certainly meant that Charlie was imagining things that would get him in trouble with me if he said them out loud.

“Are you all right?” Edward whispered when he helped me from the front seat in the school parking lot.

“Nervous,” I answered, and it wasn’t even a lie.

“You are so beautiful,” he said.

He looked like he wanted to say more, but Charlie, in an obvious maneuver that he meant to be subtle, shrugged in between us and put his arm around my shoulders.

“Are you excited?” he asked me.

“Not really,” I admitted.

“Bella, this is a big deal. You’re graduating from high school. It’s the real world for you now. College. Living on your own. . . . You’re not my little girl anymore.” Charlie choked up a bit at the end.

“Dad,” I moaned. “Please don’t get all weepy on me.”

“Who’s weepy?” he growled. “Now, why aren’t you excited?”

“I don’t know, Dad. I guess it hasn’t hit yet or something.”

“It’s good that Alice is throwing this party. You need something to perk you up.”

“Sure. A party’s exactly what I need.”

Charlie laughed at my tone and squeezed my shoulders. Edward looked at the clouds, his face thoughtful.

My father had to leave us at the back door of the gym and go around to the main entrance with the rest of the parents.

It was pandemonium as Ms. Cope from the front office and Mr. Varner the math teacher tried to line everyone up alphabetically.

“Up front, Mr. Cullen,” Mr. Varner barked at Edward.

“Hey, Bella!”

I looked up to see Jessica Stanley waving at me from the back of the line with a smile on her face.

Edward kissed me quickly, sighed, and went to go stand with the C’s. Alice wasn’t there. What was she going to do? Skip graduation? What poor timing on my part. I should have waited to figure things out until after this was over with.

“Down here, Bella!” Jessica called again.

I walked down the line to take my place behind Jessica, mildly curious as to why she was suddenly so friendly. As I got closer, I saw Angela five people back, watching Jessica with the same curiosity.

Jess was babbling before I was in earshot.

“. . . so amazing. I mean, it seems like we just met, and now we’re graduating together,” she gushed. “Can you believe it’s over? I feel like screaming!”

“So do I,” I muttered.

“This is all just so incredible. Do you remember your first day here? We were friends, like, right away. From the first time we saw each other. Amazing. And now I’m off to California and you’ll be in Alaska and I’m going to miss you so much! You have to promise that we’ll get together sometimes! I’m so glad you’re having a party. That’s perfect. Because we really haven’t spent much time together in a while and now we’re all leaving. . . .”

She droned on and on, and I was sure the sudden return of our friendship was due to graduation nostalgia and gratitude for the party invite, not that I’d had anything to do with that. I paid attention as well as I could while I shrugged into my robe. And I found that I was glad that things could end on a good note with Jessica.

Because it was an ending, no matter what Eric, the valedictorian, had to say about commencement meaning “beginning” and all the rest of the trite nonsense. Maybe more for me than for the rest, but we were all leaving something behind us today.

It went so quickly. I felt like I’d hit the fast forward button. Were we supposed to march quite that fast? And then Eric was speed talking in his nervousness, the words and phrases running together so they didn’t make sense anymore. Principal Greene started calling names, one after the other without a long enough pause between; the front row in the gymnasium was rushing to catch up. Poor Ms. Cope was all thumbs as she tried to give the principal the right diploma to hand to the right student.

I watched as Alice, suddenly appearing, danced across the stage to take hers, a look of deep concentration on her face. Edward followed behind, his expression confused, but not upset. Only the two of them could carry off the hideous yellow and still look the way they did. They stood out from the rest of the crowd, their beauty and grace otherworldly. I wondered how I’d ever fallen for their human farce. A couple of angels, standing there with wings intact, would be less conspicuous.

I heard Mr. Greene call my name and I rose from my chair, waiting for the line in front of me to move. I was conscious of cheering in the back of the gym, and I looked around to see Jacob pulling Charlie to his feet, both of them hooting in encouragement. I could just make out the top of Billy’s head beside Jake’s elbow. I managed to throw them an approximation of a smile.

Mr. Greene finished with the list of names, and then continued to hand out diplomas with a sheepish grin as we filed past.

“Congratulations, Miss Stanley,” he mumbled as Jess took hers.

“Congratulations, Miss Swan,” he mumbled to me, pressing the diploma into my good hand.

“Thanks,” I murmured.

And that was it.

I went to stand next to Jessica with the assembled graduates. Jess was all red around the eyes, and she kept blotting her face with the sleeve of her robe. It took me a second to understand that she was crying.

Mr. Greene said something I didn’t hear, and everyone around me shouted and screamed. Yellow hats rained down. I pulled mine off, too late, and just let it fall to the ground.

“Oh, Bella!” Jess blubbered over the sudden roar of conversation. “I can’t believe we’re done.”

“I can’t believe it’s all over,” I mumbled.

She threw her arms around my neck. “You have to promise we won’t lose touch.”

I hugged her back, feeling a little awkward as I dodged her request. “I’m so glad I know you, Jessica. It was a good two years.”

“It was,” she sighed, and sniffed. Then she dropped her arms. “Lauren!” she squealed, waving over her head and pushing through the massed yellow gowns. Families were beginning to converge, pressing us tighter together.

I caught sight of Angela and Ben, but they were surrounded by their families. I would congratulate them later.

I craned my head, looking for Alice.

“Congratulations,” Edward whispered in my ear, his arms winding around my waist. His voice was subdued; he’d been in no hurry for me to reach this particular milestone.

“Um, thanks.”

“You don’t look like you’re over the nerves yet,” he noted.

“Not quite yet.”

“What’s left to worry about? The party? It won’t be that horrible.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Who are you looking for?”

My searching wasn’t quite as subtle as I’d thought. “Alice — where is she?”

“She ran out as soon as she had her diploma.”

17. ALLIANCE

“BELLA?”

Edward’s soft voice came from behind me. I turned to see him spring lightly up the porch steps, his hair windblown from running. He pulled me into his arms at once, just like he had in the parking lot, and kissed me again.

This kiss frightened me. There was too much tension, too strong an edge to the way his lips crushed mine — like he was afraid we only had so much time left to us.

I couldn’t let myself think about that. Not if I was going to have to act human for the next several hours. I pulled away from him.

“Let’s get this stupid party over with,” I mumbled, not meeting his eyes.

He put his hands on either side of my face, waiting until I looked up.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I touched his lips with the fingers of my good hand. “I’m not worried about myself so much.”

“Why am I not surprised by that?” he muttered to himself. He took a deep breath, and then he smiled slightly. “Ready to celebrate?” he asked.

I groaned.

He held the door for me, keeping his arm securely around my waist. I stood frozen there for a minute, then I slowly shook my head.

“Unbelievable.”

Edward shrugged. “Alice will be Alice.”

The interior of the Cullens’ home had been transformed into a nightclub — the kind that didn’t often exist in real life, only on TV.

“Edward!” Alice called from beside a gigantic speaker. “I need your advice.” She gestured toward a towering stack of CDs. “Should we give them familiar and comforting? Or” — she gestured to a different pile — “educate their taste in music?”

“Keep it comforting,” Edward recommended. “You can only lead the horse to water.”

Alice nodded seriously, and started throwing the educational CDs into a box. I noticed that she had changed into a sequined tank top and red leather pants. Her bare skin reacted oddly to the pulsing red and purple lights.

“I think I’m underdressed.”

“You’re perfect,” Edward disagreed.

“You’ll do,” Alice amended.

“Thanks.” I sighed. “Do you really think people will come?” Anyone could hear the hope in my voice. Alice made a face at me.

“Everyone will come,” Edward answered. “They’re all dying to see the inside of the reclusive Cullens’ mystery house.”

“Fabulous,” I moaned.

There wasn’t anything I could do to help. I doubted that — even after I didn’t need sleep and moved at a much faster speed — I would ever be able to get things done the way Alice did.

Edward refused to let me go for a second, dragging me along with him as he hunted up Jasper and then Carlisle to tell them of my epiphany. I listened with quiet horror as they discussed their attack on the army in Seattle. I could tell that Jasper was not pleased with the way the numbers stood, but they’d been unable to contact anyone besides Tanya’s unwilling family. Jasper didn’t try to hide his desperation the way Edward would have. It was easy to see that he didn’t like gambling with stakes this high.

I couldn’t stay behind, waiting and hoping for them to come home. I wouldn’t. I would go mad.

The doorbell rang.

All at once, everything was surreally normal. A perfect smile, genuine and warm, replaced the stress on Carlisle’s face. Alice turned the volume of the music up, and then danced to get the door.

It was a Suburban-load of my friends, either too nervous or too intimidated to arrive on their own. Jessica was the first one in the door, with Mike right behind her. Tyler, Conner, Austin, Lee, Samantha . . . even Lauren trailing in last, her critical eyes alight with curiosity. They all were curious, and then overwhelmed as they took in the huge room decked out like a chic rave. The room wasn’t empty; all the Cullens had taken their places, ready to put on their usual perfect human charade. Tonight I felt like I was acting every bit as much as they were.

I went to greet Jess and Mike, hoping the edge in my voice sounded like the right kind of excitement. Before I could get to anyone else, the bell rang again. I let Angela and Ben in, leaving the door wide, because Eric and Katie were just reaching the steps.

I didn’t get another chance to panic. I had to talk to everyone, concentrate on being upbeat, a hostess. Though the party had been billed as a joint event for Alice, Edward, and me, there was no denying that I was the most popular target for congratulations and thanks. Maybe because the Cullens looked just slightly wrong under Alice’s party lights. Maybe because those lights left the room dim and mysterious. Not an atmosphere to make your average human feel relaxed when standing next to someone like Emmett. I saw Emmett grin at Mike over the food table, the red lights gleaming off his teeth, and watched Mike take an automatic step back.

Probably Alice had done this on purpose, to force me into the center of attention — a place she thought I should enjoy more. She was forever trying to make me be human the way she thought humans should be.

The party was a clear success, despite the instinctive edginess cause by the Cullens’ presence — or maybe that simply added a thrill to the atmosphere. The music was infectious, the lights almost hypnotic. From the way the food disappeared, that must have been good, too. The room was soon crowded, though never claustrophobic. The entire senior class seemed to be there, along with most of the juniors. Bodies swayed to the beat that rumbled under the soles of their feet, the party constantly on the edge of breaking into a dance.

It wasn’t as hard as I’d thought it would be. I followed Alice’s lead, mingling and chatting for a minute with everyone. They seemed easy enough to please. I was sure this party was far cooler than anything the town of Forks had experienced before. Alice was almost purring — no one here would forget this night.

I’d circled the room once, and was back to Jessica. She babbled excitedly, and it was not necessary to pay strict attention, because the odds were she wouldn’t need a response from me anytime soon. Edward was at my side — still refusing to let go of me. He kept one hand securely at my waist, pulling me closer now and then in response to thoughts I probably didn’t want to hear.

So I was immediately suspicious when he dropped his arm and edged away from me.

“Stay here,” he murmured in my ear. “I’ll be right back.”

He passed gracefully through the crowd without seeming to touch any of the close-packed bodies, gone too quickly for me to ask why he was leaving. I stared after him with narrowed eyes while Jessica shouted over the music eagerly, hanging on to my elbow, oblivious to my distraction.

I watched him as he reached the dark shadow beside the kitchen doorway, where the lights only shone intermittently. He was leaning over someone, but I couldn’t see past all the heads between us.

I stretched up on my toes, craning my neck. Right then, a red light flashed across his back and glinted off the red sequins of Alice’s shirt. The light only touched her face for half a second, but it was enough.

“Excuse me for a minute, Jess,” I mumbled, pulling my arm away. I didn’t pause for her reaction, even to see if I’d hurt her feelings with my abruptness.

I ducked my way through the bodies, getting shoved around a bit. A few people were dancing now. I hurried to the kitchen door.

Edward was gone, but Alice was still there in the dark, her face blank — the kind of expressionless look you see on the face of someone who has just witnessed a horrible accident. One of her hands gripped the door frame, like she needed the support.

“What, Alice, what? What did you see?” My hands were clutched in front of me — begging.

She didn’t look at me, she was staring away. I followed her gaze and watched as she caught Edward’s eye across the room. His face was empty as a stone. He turned and disappeared into the shadows under the stair.

The doorbell rang just then, hours after the last time, and Alice looked up with a puzzled expression that quickly turned into one of disgust.

“Who invited the werewolf?” she griped at me.

I scowled. “Guilty.”

I’d thought I’d rescinded that invitation — not that I’d ever dreamed Jacob would come here, regardless.

“Well, you go take care of it, then. I have to talk to Carlisle.”

“No, Alice, wait!” I tried to reach for her arm, but she was gone and my hand clutched the empty air.

“Damn it!” I grumbled.

I knew this was it. Alice had seen what she’d been waiting for, and I honestly didn’t feel I could stand the suspense long enough to answer the door. The doorbell peeled again, too long, someone holding down the button. I turned my back toward the door resolutely, and scanned the darkened room for Alice.

I couldn’t see anything. I started pushing for the stairs.

“Hey, Bella!”

Jacob’s deep voice caught a lull in the music, and I looked up in spite of myself at the sound of my name.

I made a face.

It wasn’t just one werewolf, it was three. Jacob had let himself in, flanked on either side by Quil and Embry. The two of them looked terribly tense, their eyes flickering around the room like they’d just walked into a haunted crypt. Embry’s trembling hand still held the door, his body half-turned to run for it.

Jacob was waving at me, calmer than the others, though his nose was wrinkled in disgust. I waved back — waved goodbye — and turned to look for Alice. I squeezed through a space between Conner’s and Lauren’s backs.

He came out of nowhere, his hand on my shoulder pulling me back toward the shadow by the kitchen. I ducked under his grip, but he grabbed my good wrist and yanked me from the crowd.

“Friendly reception,” he noted.

I pulled my hand free and scowled at him. “What are you doing here?”

“You invited me, remember?”

“In case my right hook was too subtle for you, let me translate: that was me uninviting you.”

“Don’t be a poor sport. I brought you a graduation present and everything.”

I folded my arms across my chest. I didn’t want to fight with Jacob right now. I wanted to know what Alice had seen and what Edward and Carlisle were saying about it. I craned my head around Jacob, searching for them.

“Take it back to the store, Jake. I’ve got to do something. . . .”

He stepped into my line of sight, demanding my attention.

“I can’t take it back. I didn’t get it from the store — I made it myself. Took a really long time, too.”

I leaned around him again, but I couldn’t see any of the Cullens. Where had they gone? My eyes scanned the darkened room.

“Oh, c’mon, Bell. Don’t pretend like I’m not here!”

“I’m not.” I couldn’t see them anywhere. “Look, Jake, I’ve got a lot on my mind right now.”

He put his hand under my chin and pulled my face up. “Could I please have just a few seconds of your undivided attention, Miss Swan?”

I jerked away from his touch. “Keep your hands to yourself, Jacob,” I hissed.

“Sorry!” he said at once, holding his hands up in surrender. “I really am sorry. About the other day, I mean, too. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. It was wrong. I guess . . . well, I guess I deluded myself into thinking you wanted me to.”

“Deluded — what a perfect description!”

“Be nice. You could accept my apology, you know.”

“Fine. Apology accepted. Now, if you’ll just excuse me for a moment . . .”

“Okay,” he mumbled, and his voice was so different from before that I stoppd searching for Alice and scrutinized his face. He was staring at the floor, hiding his eyes. His lower lip jutted out just a little bit.

“I guess you’d rather be with your real friends,” he said in the same defeated tone. “I get it.”

I groaned. “Aw, Jake, you know that’s not fair.”

“Do I?”

“You should.” I leaned forward, peering up, trying to look into his eyes. He looked up then, over my head, avoiding my gaze.

“Jake?”

He refused to look at me.

“Hey, you said you made me something, right?” I asked. “Was that just talk? Where’s my present?” My attempt to fake enthusiasm was pretty sad, but it worked. He rolled his eyes and then grimaced at me.

I kept up the lame pretense, holding my hand open in front of me. “I’m waiting.”

18. INSTRUCTION

“THAT HAD TO BE THE LONGEST PARTY IN THE HISTORY of the world,” I complained on the way home.

Edward didn’t seem to disagree. “It’s over now,” he said, rubbing my arm soothingly.

Because I was the only one who needed soothing. Edward was fine now — all the Cullens were fine.

They’d all reassured me; Alice reaching up to pat my head as I left, eyeing Jasper meaningfully until a flood of peace swirled around me, Esme kissing my forehead and promising me everything was all right, Emmett laughing boisterously and asking why I was the only one who was allowed to fight with werewolves. . . . Jacob’s solution had them all relaxed, almost euphoric after the long weeks of stress. Doubt had been replaced with confidence. The party had ended on a note of true celebration.

Not for me.

Bad enough — horrible — that the Cullens would fight for me. It was already too much that I would have to allow that. It already felt like more than I could bear.

Not Jacob, too. Not his foolish, eager brothers — most of them even younger than I was. They were just oversized, over-muscled children, and they looked forward to this like it was picnic on the beach. I could not have them in danger, too. My nerves felt frayed and exposed. I didn’t know how much longer I could restrain the urge to scream out loud.

I whispered now, to keep my voice under control. “You’re taking me with you tonight.”

“Bella, you’re worn out.”

“You think I could sleep?”

He frowned. “This is an experiment. I’m not sure if it will be possible for us all to . . . cooperate. I don’t want you in the middle of that.”

As if that didn’t make me all the more anxious to go. “If you won’t take me, then I’ll call Jacob.”

His eyes tightened. That was a low blow, and I knew it. But there was no way I was being left behind.

He didn’t answer; we were at Charlie’s house now. The front light was on.

“See you upstairs,” I muttered.

I tiptoed in the front door. Charlie was asleep in the living room, overflowing the too-small sofa, and snoring so loudly I could have ripped a chainsaw to life and it wouldn’t have wakened him.

I shook his shoulder vigorously.

“Dad! Charlie!”

He grumbled, eyes still closed.

“I’m home now — you’re going to hurt your back sleeping like that. C’mon, time to move.”

It took a few more shakes, and his eyes never did open all the way, but I managed to get him off the couch. I helped him up to his bed, where he collapsed on top of the covers, fully dressed, and started snoring again.

He wasn’t going to be looking for me anytime soon.

Edward waited in my room while I washed my face and changed into jeans and a flannel shirt. He watched me unhappily from the rocking chair as I hung the outfit Alice had given me in my closet.

“Come here,” I said, taking his hand and pulling him to my bed.

I pushed him down on the bed and then curled up against his chest. Maybe he was right and I was tired enough to sleep. I wasn’t going to let him sneak off without me.

He tucked my quilt in around me, and then held me close.

“Please relax.”

“Sure.”

“This is going to work, Bella. I can feel it.”

My teeth locked together.

He was still radiating relief. Nobody but me cared if Jacob and his friends got hurt. Not even Jacob and his friends. Especially not them.

He could tell I was about to lose it. “Listen to me, Bella. This is going to be easy. The newborns will be completely taken by surprise. They’ll have no more idea that werewolves even exist than you did. I’ve seen how they act in a group, the way Jasper remembers. I truly believe that the wolves’ hunting techniques will work flawlessly against them. And with them divided and confused, there won’t be enough for the rest of us to do. Someone may have to sit out,” he teased.

“Piece of cake,” I mumbled tonelessly against his chest.

“Shhh,” he stroked my cheek. “You’ll see. Don’t worry now.”

He started humming my lullaby, but, for once, it didn’t calm me.

People — well, vampires and werewolves really, but still — people I loved were going to get hurt. Hurt because of me. Again. I wished my bad luck would focus a little more carefully. I felt like yelling up at the empty sky: It’s me you want — over here! Just me!

I tried to think of a way that I could do exactly that — force my bad luck to focus on me. It wouldn’t be easy. I would have to wait, bide my time. . . .

I did not fall asleep. The minutes passed quickly, to my surprise, and I was still alert and tense when Edward pulled us both up into a sitting position.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay and sleep?”

I gave him a sour look.

He sighed, and scooped me up in his arms before he jumped from my window.

He raced through the black, quiet forest with me on his back, and even in his run I could feel the elation. He ran the way he did when it was just us, just for enjoyment, just for the feel of the wind in his hair. It was the kind of thing that, during less anxious times, would have made me happy.

When we got to the big open field, his family was there, talking casually, relaxed. Emmett’s booming laugh echoed through the wide space now and then. Edward set me down and we walked hand in hand toward them.

It took me a minute, because it was so dark with the moon hidden behind the clouds, but I realized that we were in the baseball clearing. It was the same place where, more than a year ago, that first lighthearted evening with the Cullens had been interrupted by James and his coven. It felt strange to be here again — as if this gathering wouldn’t be complete until James and Laurent and Victoria joined us. But James and Laurent were never coming back. That pattern wouldn’t be repeated. Maybe all the patterns were broken.

Yes, someone had broken out of their pattern. Was it possible that the Volturi were the flexible ones in this equation?

I doubted it.

Victoria had always seemed like a force of nature to me — like a hurricane moving toward the coast in a straight line — unavoidable, implacable, but predictable. Maybe it was wrong to limit her that way. She had to be capable of adaptation.

“You know what I think?” I asked Edward.

He laughed. “No.”

I almost smiled.

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s all connected. Not just the two, but all three.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“Three bad things have happened since you came back.” I ticked them off on my fingers. “The newborns in Seattle. The stranger in my room. And — first of all — Victoria came to look for me.”

His eyes narrowed as he thought about it. “Why do you think so?”

“Because I agree with Jasper — the Volturi love their rules. They would probably do a better job anyway.” And I’d be dead if they wanted me dead, I added mentally. “Remember when you were tracking Victoria last year?”

“Yes.” He frowned. “I wasn’t very good at it.”

“Alice said you were in Texas. Did you follow her there?”

His eyebrows pulled together. “Yes. Hmm . . .”

“See — she could have gotten the idea there. But she doesn’t know what she’s doing, so the newborns are all out of control.”

He started shaking his head. “Only Aro knows exactly how Alice’s visions work.”

“Aro would know best, but wouldn’t Tanya and Irina and the rest of your friends in Denali know enough? Laurent lived with them for so long. And if he was still friendly enough with Victoria to be doing favors for her, why wouldn’t he also tell her everything he knew?”

Edward frowned. “It wasn’t Victoria in your room.”

“She can’t make new friends? Think about it, Edward. If it is Victoria doing this in Seattle, she’s made a lot of new friends. She’s created them.”

He considered it, his forehead creased in concentration.

“Hmm,” he finally said. “It’s possible. I still think the Volturi are most likely . . . But your theory — there’s something there. Victoria’s personality. Your theory suits her personality perfectly. She’s shown a remarkable gift for self-preservation from the start — maybe it’s a talent of hers. In any case, this plot would put her in no danger at all from us, if she sits safely behind and lets the newborns wreak their havoc here. And maybe little danger from the Volturi, either. Perhaps she’s counting on us to win, in the end, though certainly not without heavy casualties of our own. But no survivors from her little army to bear witness against her. In fact,” he continued, thinking it through, “if there were survivors, I’d bet she’d be planning to destroy them herself. . . . Hmm. Still, she’d have to have at least one friend who was a bit more mature. No fresh-made newborn left your father alive. . . .”

He frowned into space for a long moment, and then suddenly smiled at me, coming back from his reverie. “Definitely possible. Regardless, we’ve got to be prepared for anything until we know for sure. You’re very perceptive today,” he added. “It’s impressive.”

I sighed. “Maybe I’m just reacting to this place. It makes me feel like she’s close by . . . like she sees me now.”

His jaw muscles tensed at the idea. “She’ll never touch you, Bella,” he said.

In spite of his words, his eyes swept carefully across the dark trees. While he searched their shadows, the strangest expression crossed his face. His lips pulled back over his teeth and his eyes shone with an odd light — a wild, fierce kind of hope.

“Yet, what I wouldn’t give to have her that close,” he murmured. “Victoria, and anyone else who’s ever thought of hurting you. To have the chance to end this myself. To finish it with my own hands this time.”

I shuddered at the ferocious longing in his voice, and clenched his fingers more tightly with mine, wishing I was strong enough to lock our hands together permanently.

We were almost to his family, and I noticed for the first time that Alice did not look as optimistic as the others. She stood a little aside, watching Jasper stretching his arms as if he were warming up to exercise, her lips pushed out in a pout.

“Is something wrong with Alice?” I whispered.

Edward chuckled, himself again. “The werewolves are on their way, so she can’t see anything that will happen now. It makes her uncomfortable to be blind.”

Alice, though the farthest from us, heard his low voice. She looked up and stuck her tongue out at him. He laughed again.

“Hey, Edward,” Emmett greeted him. “Hey, Bella. Is he going to let you practice, too?”

Edward groaned at his brother. “Please, Emmett, don’t give her any ideas.”

“When will our guests arrive?” Carlisle asked Edward.

Edward concentrated for a moment, and then sighed. “A minute and a half. But I’m going to have to translate. They don’t trust us enough to use their human forms.”

Carlisle nodded. “This is hard for them. I’m grateful they’re coming at all.”

I stared at Edward, my eyes stretched wide. “They’re coming as wolves?”

He nodded, cautious of my reaction. I swallowed once, remembering the two times I’d seen Jacob in his wolf form — the first time in the meadow with Laurent, the second time on the forest lane where Paul had gotten angry at me. . . . They were both memories of terror.

A strange gleam came into Edward’s eyes, as though something had just occurred to him, something that was not altogether unpleasant. He turned away quickly, before I could see any more, back to Carlisle and the others.

“Prepare yourselves — they’ve been holding out on us.”

“What do you mean?” Alice demanded.

“Shh,” he cautioned, and stared past her into the darkness.

The Cullens’ informal circle suddenly widened out into a loose line with Jasper and Emmett at the spear point. From the way Edward leaned forward next to me, I could tell that he wished he was standing beside them. I tightened my hand around his.

I squinted toward the forest, seeing nothing.

“Damn,” Emmett muttered under his breath. “Did you ever see anything like it?”

Esme and Rosalie exchanged a wide-eyed glance.

“What is it?” I whispered as quietly as I could. “I can’t see.”

“The pack has grown,” Edward murmured into my ear.

Hadn’t I told him that Quil had joined the pack? I strained to see the six wolves in the gloom. Finally, something glittered in the blackness — their eyes, higher up than they should be. I’d forgotten how very tall the wolves were. Like horses, only thick with muscle and fur — and teeth like knives, impossible to overlook.

I could only see the eyes. And as I scanned, straining to see more, it occurred to me that there were more than six pairs facing us. One, two, three . . . I counted the pairs swiftly in my head. Twice.

There were ten of them.

“Fascinating,” Edward murmured almost silently.

Carlisle took a slow, deliberate step forward. It was a careful movement, designed to reassure.

“Welcome,” he greeted the invisible wolves.

“Thank you,” Edward responded in a strange, flat tone, and I realized at once that the words came from Sam. I looked to the eyes shining in the center of the line, the highest up, the tallest of them all. It was impossible to separate the shape of the big black wolf from the darkness.

Edward spoke again in the same detached voice, speaking Sam’s words. “We will watch and listen, but no more. That is the most we can ask of our self-control.”

“That is more than enough,” Carlisle answered. “My son Jasper” — he gestured to where Jasper stood, tensed and ready — “has experience in this area. He will teach us how they fight, how they are to be defeated. I’m sure you can apply this to your own hunting style.”

“They are different from you?” Edward asked for Sam.

Carlisle nodded. “They are all very new — only months old to this life. Children, in a way. They will have no skill or strategy, only brute strength. Tonight their numbers stand at twenty. Ten for us, ten for you — it shouldn’t be difficult. The numbers may go down. The new ones fight amongst themselves.”

A rumble passed down the shadowy line of wolves, a low growling mutter that somehow managed to sound enthusiastic.

“We are willing to take more than our share, if necessary,” Edward translated, his tone less indifferent now.

Carlisle smiled. “We’ll see how it plays out.”

“Do you know when and how they’ll arrive?”

“They’ll come across the mountains in four days, in the late morning. As they approach, Alice will help us intercept their path.”

“Thank you for the information. We will watch.”

With a sighing sound, the eyes sank closer to the ground one set at a time.

It was silent for two heartbeats, and then Jasper took a step into the empty space between the vampires and the wolves. It wasn’t hard for me to see him — his skin was as bright against the darkness as the wolves’ eyes. Jasper threw a wary glance toward Edward, who nodded, and then Jasper turned his back to the werewolves. He sighed, clearly uncomfortable.

“Carlisle’s right.” Jasper spoke only to us; he seemed to be trying to ignore the audience behind him. “They’ll fight like children. The two most important things you’ll need to remember are, first, don’t let them get their arms around you and, second, don’t go for the obvious kill. That’s all they’ll be prepared for. As long as you come at them from the side and keep moving, they’ll be too confused to respond effectively. Emmett?”

Emmett stepped out of the line with a huge smile.

Jasper backed toward the north end of the opening between the allied enemies. He waved Emmett forward.

“Okay, Emmett first. He’s the best example of a newborn attack.”

Emmett’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll try not to break anything,” he muttered.

Jasper grinned. “What I meant is that Emmett relies on his strength. He’s very straightforward about the attack. The newborns won’t be trying anything subtle, either. Just go for the easy kill, Emmett.”

Jasper backed up a few more paces, his body tensing.

“Okay, Emmett — try to catch me.”

And I couldn’t see Jasper anymore — he was a blur as Emmett charged him like a bear, grinning while he snarled. Emmett was impossibly quick, too, but not like Jasper. It looked like Jasper had no more substance than a ghost — any time it seemed Emmett’s big hands had him for sure, Emmett’s fingers clenched around nothing but the air. Beside me, Edward leaned forward intently, his eyes locked on the brawl. Then Emmett froze.

Jasper had him from behind, his teeth an inch from his throat.

Emmett cussed.

There was a muttered rumble of appreciation from the watching wolves.

“Again,” Emmett insisted, his smile gone.

“It’s my turn,” Edward protested. My fingers tensed around his.

“In a minute.” Jasper grinned, stepping back. “I want to show Bella something first.”

I watched with anxious eyes as he waved Alice forward.

“I know you worry about her,” he explained to me as she danced blithely into the ring. “I want to show you why that’s not necessary.”

Though I knew that Jasper would never allow any harm to come to Alice, it was still hard to watch as he sank back into a crouch facing her. Alice stood motionlessly, looking tiny as a doll after Emmett, smiling to herself. Jasper shifted forward, then slinked to her left.

Alice closed her eyes.

My heart thumped unevenly as Jasper stalked toward where Alice stood.

Jasper sprang, disappearing. Suddenly he was on the other side of Alice. She didn’t appear to have moved.

Jasper wheeled and launched himself at her again, only to land in a crouch behind her like the first time; all the while Alice stood smiling with her eyes closed.

I watched Alice more carefully now.

She was moving — I’d just been missing it, distracted by Jasper’s attacks. She took a small step forward at the exact second that Jasper’s body flew through the spot where she’d just been standing. She took another step, while Jasper’s grasping hands whistled past where her waist had been.

Jasper closed in, and Alice began to move faster. She was dancing — spiraling and twisting and curling in on herself. Jasper was her partner, lunging, reaching through her graceful patterns, never touching her, like every movement was choreographed. Finally, Alice laughed.

Out of nowhere she was perched on Jasper’s back, her lips at his neck.

“Gotcha,” she said, and kissed his throat.

Jasper chuckled, shaking his head. “You truly are one frightening little monster.”

The wolves muttered again. This time the sound was wary.

“It’s good for them to learn some respect,” Edward murmured, amused. Then he spoke louder. “My turn.”

He squeezed my hand before he let it go.

Alice came to take his place beside me. “Cool, huh?” she asked me smugly.

“Very,” I agreed, not looking away from Edward as he glided noiselessly toward Jasper, his movements lithe and watchful as a jungle cat.

“I’ve got my eye on you, Bella,” she whispered suddenly, her voice pitched so low that I could barely hear, though her lips were at my ear.

My gaze flickered to her face and then back to Edward. He was intent on Jasper, both of them feinting as he closed the distance.

Alice’s expression was full of reproach.

“I’ll warn him if your plans get any more defined,” she threatened in the same low murmur. “It doesn’t help anything for you to put yourself in danger. Do you think either of them would give up if you died? They’d still fight, we all would. You can’t change anything, so just be good, okay?”

I grimaced, trying to ignore her.

“I’m watching,” she repeated.

Edward had closed on Jasper now, and this fight was more even than either of the others. Jasper had the century of experience to guide him, and he tried to go on instinct alone as much as he could, but his thoughts always gave him away a fraction of a second before he acted. Edward was slightly faster, but the moves Jasper used were unfamiliar to him. They came at each other again and again, neither one able to gain the advantage, instinctive snarls erupting constantly. It was hard to watch, but harder to look away. They moved too fast for me to really understand what they were doing. Now and then the sharp eyes of the wolves would catch my attention. I had a feeling the wolves were getting more out of this than I was — maybe more than they should.

Eventually, Carlisle cleared his throat.

Jasper laughed, and took a step back. Edward straightened up and grinned at him.

“Back to work,” Jasper consented. “We’ll call it a draw.”

Everyone took turns, Carlisle, then Rosalie, Esme, and Emmett again. I squinted through my lashes, cringing as Jasper attacked Esme. That one was the hardest to watch. Then he slowed down, still not quite enough for me to understand his motions, and gave more instruction.

“You see what I’m doing here?” he would ask. “Yes, just like that,” he encouraged. “Concentrate on the sides. Don’t forget where their target will be. Keep moving.”

Edward was always focused, watching and also listening to what others couldn’t see.

It got more difficult to follow as my eyes got heavier. I hadn’t been sleeping well lately, anyway, and it was approaching a solid twenty-four hours since the last time I’d slept. I leaned against Edward’s side, and let my eyelids droop.

“We’re about finished,” he whispered.

19. SELFISH

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.”

20. COMPROMISE

EVERYTHING WAS READY.

I was packed for my two-day visit with “Alice,” and my bag waited for me on the passenger seat of my truck. I’d given the concert tickets to Angela, Ben, and Mike. Mike was going to take Jessica, which was exactly as I’d hoped. Billy had borrowed Old Quil Ateara’s boat and invited Charlie down for some open sea fishing before the afternoon game started. Collin and Brady, the two youngest werewolves, were staying behind to protect La Push — though they were just children, both of them only thirteen. Still, Charlie would be safer than anyone left in Forks.

I had done all that I could do. I tried to accept that, and put the things that were outside of my control out of my head, for tonight at least. One way or another, this would all be over in forty-eight hours. The thought was almost comforting.

Edward had requested that I relax, and I was going to do my best.

“For this one night, could we try to forget everything besides just you and me?” he’d pleaded, unleashing the full force of his eyes on me. “It seems like I can never get enough time like that. I need to be with you. Just you.”

That was not a hard request to agree to, though I knew that forgetting my fears would be much easier said than done. Other matters were on my mind now, knowing that we had this night to be alone, and that would help.

There were some things that had changed.

For instance, I was ready.

I was ready to join his family and his world. The fear and guilt and anguish I was feeling now had taught me that much. I’d had a chance to concentrate on this — as I’d gazed at the moon through the clouds and rested against a werewolf — and I knew I would not panic again. The next time something came at us, I would be ready. An asset, not a liability. He would never have to make the choice between me and his family again. We would be partners, like Alice and Jasper. Next time, I would do my part.

I would wait for the sword to be removed from over my head, so that Edward would be satisfied. But it wasn’t necessary. I was ready.

There was only one missing piece.

One piece, because there were some things that had not changed, and that included the desperate way I loved him. I’d had plenty of time to think through the ramifications of Jasper and Emmett’s bet — to figure out the things I was willing to lose with my humanity, and the part that I was not willing to give up. I knew which human experience I was going to insist on before I became inhuman.

So we had some things to work out tonight. After everything I’d seen in the past two years, I didn’t believe in the word impossible anymore. It was going to take more than that to stop me now.

Okay, well, honestly, it was probably going to be much more complicated than that. But I was going to try.

As decided as I was, I wasn’t surprised that I still felt nervous as I drove down the long path to his house — I didn’t know how to do what I was trying to do, and that guaranteed me some serious jitters. He sat in the passenger seat, fighting a smile at my slow pace. I was surprised that he hadn’t insisted on taking the wheel, but tonight he seemed content to go at my speed.

It was after dark when we reached the house. In spite of that, the meadow was bright in the light shining from every window.

As soon as I cut the engine he was at my door, opening it for me. He lifted me from the cab with one arm, slinging my bag out of the truck bed and over his shoulder with the other. His lips found mine as I heard him kick the truck’s door shut behind me.

Without breaking the kiss, he swung me up so that I was cradled in his arms and carried me into the house.

Was the front door already open? I didn’t know. We were inside, though, and I was dizzy. I had to remind myself to breathe.

This kissing did not frighten me. It wasn’t like before when I could feel the fear and panic leaking through his control. His lips were not anxious, but enthusiastic now — he seemed as thrilled as I was that we had tonight to concentrate on being together. He continued to kiss me for several minutes, standing there in the entry; he seemed less guarded than usual, his mouth cold and urgent on mine.

I began to feel cautiously optimistic. Perhaps getting what I wanted would not be as difficult as I’d expected it to be.

No, of course it was going to be just exactly that difficult.

With a low chuckle, he pulled me away, holding me at arm’s length.

“Welcome home,” he said, his eyes liquid and warm.

“That sounds nice,” I said, breathless.

He set me gently on my feet. I wrapped both my arms around him, refusing to allow any space between us.

“I have something for you,” he said, his tone conversational.

“Oh?”

“Your hand-me-down, remember? You said that was allowable.”

“Oh, that’s right. I guess I did say that.”

He chuckled at my reluctance.

“It’s up in my room. Shall I go get it?”

His bedroom? “Sure,” I agreed, feeling quite devious as I wound my fingers through his. “Let’s go.”

He must have been eager to give me my non-present, because human velocity was not fast enough for him. He scooped me up again and nearly flew up the stairs to his room. He set me down at the door, and darted into his closet.

He was back before I’d taken a step, but I ignored him and went to the huge gold bed, plopping down on the edge and then sliding to the center. I curled up in a ball, my arms wrapped around my knees.

“Okay,” I grumbled. Now that I was where I wanted to be, I could afford a little reluctance. “Let me have it.”

Edward laughed.

He climbed onto the bed to sit next to me, and my heart thumped unevenly. Hopefully he would write that off as some reaction to him giving me presents.

“A hand-me-down,” he reminded me sternly. He pulled my left wrist away from my leg, and touched the silver bracelet for just a moment. Then he gave me my arm back.

I examined it cautiously. On the opposite side of the chain from the wolf, there now hung a brilliant heart-shaped crystal. It was cut in a million facets, so that even in the subdued light shining from the lamp, it sparkled. I inhaled in a low gasp.

“It was my mother’s.” He shrugged deprecatingly. “I inherited quite a few baubles like this. I’ve given some to Esme and Alice both. So, clearly, this is not a big deal in any way.”

I smiled ruefully at his assurance.

“But I thought it was a good representation,” he continued. “It’s hard and cold.” He laughed. “And it throws rainbows in the sunlight.”

“You forgot the most important similarity,” I murmured. “It’s beautiful.”

“My heart is just as silent,” he mused. “And it, too, is yours.”

I twisted my wrist so the heart would glimmer. “Thank you. For both.”

“No, thank you. It’s a relief to have you accept a gift so easily. Good practice for you, too.” He grinned, flashing his teeth.

I leaned into him, ducking my head under his arm and cuddling into his side. It probably felt similar to snuggling with Michelangelo’s David, except that this perfect marble creature wrapped his arms around me to pull me closer.

It seemed like a good place to start.

“Can we discuss something? I’d appreciate it if you could begin by being open-minded.”

He hesitated for a moment. “I’ll give it my best effort,” he agreed, cautious now.

“I’m not breaking any rules here,” I promised. “This is strictly about you and me.” I cleared my throat. “So . . . I was impressed by how well we were able to compromise the other night. I was thinking I would like to apply the same principle to a different situation.” I wondered why I was being so formal. Must be the nerves.

“What would you like to negotiate?” he asked, a smile in his voice.

I struggled, trying to find exactly the right words to open with.

“Listen to your heart fly,” he murmured. “It’s fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings. Are you all right?”

“I’m great.”

“Please go on then,” he encouraged.

“Well, I guess, first, I wanted to talk to you about that whole ridiculous marriage condition thing.”

“It’s only ridiculous to you. What about it?”

“I was wondering . . . is that open to negotiation?”

Edward frowned, serious now. “I’ve already made the largest concession by far and away — I’ve agreed to take your life away against my better judgment. And that ought to entitle me to a few compromises on your part.”

“No.” I shook my head, focusing on keeping my face composed. “That part’s a done deal. We’re not discussing my . . . renovations right now. I want to hammer out some other details.”

He looked at me suspiciously. “Which details do you mean exactly?”

I hesitated. “Let’s clarify your prerequisites first.”

“You know what I want.”

“Matrimony.” I made it sound like a dirty word.

“Yes.” He smiled a wide smile. “To start with.”

The shock spoiled my carefully composed expression. “There’s more?”

“Well,” he said, and his face was calculating. “If you’re my wife, then what’s mine is yours . . . like tuition money. So there would be no problem with Dartmouth.”

“Anything else? While you’re already being absurd?”

“I wouldn’t mind some time.”

“No. No time. That’s a deal breaker right there.”

He sighed longingly. “Just a year or two?”

I shook my head, my lips set in a stubborn frown. “Move along to the next one.”

“That’s it. Unless you’d like to talk cars . . .”

He grinned widely when I grimaced, then took my hand and began playing with my fingers.

“I didn’t realize there was anything else you wanted besides being transformed into a monster yourself. I’m extremely curious.” His voice was low and soft. The slight edge would have been hard to detect if I hadn’t known it so well.

I paused, staring at his hand on mine. I still didn’t know how to begin. I felt his eyes watching me and I was afraid to look up. The blood began to burn in my face.

His cool fingers brushed my cheek. “You’re blushing?” he asked in surprise. I kept my eyes down. “Please, Bella, the suspense is painful.”

I bit my lip.

“Bella.” His tone reproached me now, reminded me that it was hard for him when I kept my thoughts to myself.

“Well, I’m a little worried . . . about after,” I admitted, finally looking at him.

I felt his body tense, but his voice was gentle and velvet. “What has you worried?”

“All of you just seem so convinced that the only thing I’m going to be interested in, afterward, is slaughtering everyone in town,” I confessed, while he winced at my choice of words. “And I’m afraid I’ll be so preoccupied with the mayhem that I won’t be me anymore . . . and that I won’t . . . I won’t want you the same way I do now.”

“Bella, that part doesn’t last forever,” he assured me.

He was missing the point.

“Edward,” I said, nervous, staring at a freckle on my wrist. “There’s something that I want to do before I’m not human anymore.”

He waited for me to continue. I didn’t. My face was all hot.

“Whatever you want,” he encouraged, anxious and completely clueless.

“Do you promise?” I muttered, knowing my attempt to trap him with his words was not going to work, but unable to resist.

“Yes,” he said. I looked up to see that his eyes were earnest and confused. “Tell me what you want, and you can have it.”

I couldn’t believe how awkward and idiotic I felt. I was too innocent — which was, of course, central to the discussion. I didn’t have the faintest idea how to be seductive. I would just have to settle for flushed and self-conscious.

“You,” I mumbled almost incoherently.

“I’m yours.” He smiled, still oblivious, trying to hold my gaze as I looked away again.

I took a deep breath and shifted forward so that I was kneeling on the bed. Then I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.

He kissed me back, bewildered but willing. His lips were gentle against mine, and I could tell his mind was elsewhere — trying to figure out what was on my mind. I decided he needed a hint.

My hands were slightly shaky as I unlocked my arms from around his neck. My fingers slid down his neck to the collar of his shirt. The trembling didn’t help as I tried to hurry to undo the buttons before he stopped me.

His lips froze, and I could almost hear the click in his head as he put together my words and my actions.

He pushed me away at once, his face heavily disapproving.

“Be reasonable, Bella.”

“You promised — whatever I wanted,” I reminded him without hope.

“We’re not having this discussion.” He glared at me while he refastened the two buttons I’d managed to open.

My teeth clamped together.

“I say we are,” I growled. I moved my hands to my blouse and yanked open the top button.

He grabbed my wrists and pinned them to my sides.

“I say we’re not,” he said flatly.

We glowered at each other.

“You wanted to know,” I pointed out.

“I thought it would be something faintly realistic.”

“So you can ask for any stupid, ridiculous thing you want — like getting married — but I’m not allowed to even discuss what I —”

While I was ranting, he pulled my hands together to restrain them in just one of his, and put his other hand over my mouth.

“No.” His face was hard.

I took a deep breath to steady myself. And, as the anger began to fade, I felt something else.

It took me a minute to recognize why I was staring down again, the blush returning — why my stomach felt uneasy, why there was too much moisture in my eyes, why I suddenly wanted to run from the room.

Rejection washed through me, instinctive and strong.

I knew it was irrational. He’d been very clear on other occasions that my safety was the only factor. Yet I’d never made myself quite so vulnerable before. I scowled at the golden comforter that matched his eyes and tried to banish the reflex reaction that told me I was unwanted and unwantable.

Edward sighed. The hand over my mouth moved under my chin, and he pulled my face up until I had to look at him.

“What now?”

“Nothing,” I mumbled.

He scrutinized my face for long moment while I tried unsuccessfully to twist away from his gaze. His brow furrowed, and his expression became horrified.

“Did I hurt your feelings?” he asked, shocked.

“No,” I lied.

So quickly that I wasn’t even sure how it happened, I was in his arms, my face cradled between his shoulder and his hand, while his thumb stroked reassuringly against my cheek.

“You know why I have to say no,” he murmured. “You know that I want you, too.”

“Do you?” I whispered, my voice full of doubt.

“Of course I do, you silly, beautiful, oversensitive girl.” He laughed once, and then his voice was bleak. “Doesn’t everyone? I feel like there’s a line behind me, jockeying for position, waiting for me to make a big enough mistake. . . . You’re too desirable for your own good.”

“Who’s being silly now?” I doubted if awkward, self-conscious, and inept added up to desirable in anyone’s book.

“Do I have to send a petition around to get you to believe? Shall I tell you whose names would be on the top of the list? You know a few of them, but some might surprise you.”

I shook my head against his chest, grimacing. “You’re just trying to distract me. Let’s get back to the subject.”

He sighed.

“Tell me if I have anything wrong.” I tried to sound detached. “Your demands are marriage” — I couldn’t say the word without making a face — “paying my tuition, more time, and you wouldn’t mind if my vehicle went a little faster.” I raised my eyebrows. “Did I get everything? That’s a hefty list.”

“Only the first is a demand.” He seemed to be having a hard time keeping a straight face. “The others are merely requests.”

“And my lone, solitary little demand is —”

“Demand?” he interrupted, suddenly serious again.

“Yes, demand.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Getting married is a stretch for me. I’m not giving in unless I get something in return.”

He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “No,” he murmured silkily. “It’s not possible now. Later, when you’re less breakable. Be patient, Bella.”

I tried to keep my voice firm and reasonable. “But that’s the problem. It won’t be the same when I’m less breakable. I won’t be the same! I don’t know who I’ll be then.”

“You’ll still be Bella,” he promised.

I frowned. “If I’m so far gone that I’d want to kill Charlie — that I’d drink Jacob’s blood or Angela’s if I got the chance — how can that be true?”

“It will pass. And I doubt you’ll want to drink the dog’s blood.” He pretended to shudder at the thought. “Even as a newborn, you’ll have better taste than that.”

I ignored his attempt to sidetrack me. “But that will always be what I want most, won’t it?” I challenged. “Blood, blood, and more blood!”

“The fact that you are still alive is proof that that is not true,” he pointed out.

“Over eighty years later,” I reminded him. “What I meant was physically, though. Intellectually, I know I’ll be able to be myself . . . after a while. But just purely physically — I will always be thirsty, more than anything else.”

He didn’t answer.

“So I will be different,” I concluded unopposed. “Because right now, physically, there’s nothing I want more than you. More than food or water or oxygen. Intellectually, I have my priorities in a slightly more sensible order. But physically . . .”

I twisted my head to kiss the palm of his hand.

He took a deep breath. I was surprised that it sounded a little unsteady.

“Bella, I could kill you,” he whispered.

“I don’t think you could.”

Edward’s eyes tightened. He lifted his hand from my face and reached quickly behind himself for something I couldn’t see. There was a muffled snapping sound, and the bed quivered beneath us.

Something dark was in his hand; he held it up for my curious examination. It was a metal flower, one of the roses that adorned the wrought iron posts and canopy of his bed frame. His hand closed for a brief second, his fingers contracting gently, and then it opened again.

Without a word, he offered me the crushed, uneven lump of black metal. It was a cast of the inside of his hand, like a piece of play dough squeezed in a child’s fist. A half-second passed, and the shape crumbled into black sand in his palm.

I glared. “That’s not what I meant. I already know how strong you are. You didn’t have to break the furniture.”

“What did you mean then?” he asked in a dark voice, tossing the handful of iron sand to the corner of the room; it hit the wall with a sound like rain.

His eyes were intent on my face as I struggled to explain.

21. TRAILS

I HATED TO WASTE ANY PART OF THE NIGHT IN SLEEP, but that was inevitable. The sun was bright outside the window-wall when I woke, with small clouds scuttling too quickly across the sky. The wind rocked the treetops till the whole forest looked as if it was going to shake apart.

He left me alone to get dressed, and I appreciated the chance to think. Somehow, my plan for last night had gone horribly awry, and I needed come to grips with the consequences. Though I’d given back the hand-me-down ring as soon as I could do it without hurting his feelings, my left hand felt heavier, like it was still in place, just invisible.

This shouldn’t bother me, I reasoned. It was no big thing — a road trip to Vegas. I would go one better than old jeans — I would wear old sweats. The ceremony certainly couldn’t take very long; no more than fifteen minutes at the most, right? So I could handle that.

And then, when it was over, he’d have to fulfill his side of the bargain. I would concentrate on that, and forget the rest.

He said I didn’t have to tell anyone, and I was planning to hold him to that. Of course, it was very stupid of me not to think of Alice.

The Cullens got home around noon. There was a new, businesslike feel to the atmosphere around them, and it pulled me back into the enormity of what was coming.

Alice seemed to be in an unusually bad mood. I chalked it up to her frustration with feeling normal, because her first words to Edward were a complaint about working with the wolves.

“I think” — she made a face as she used the uncertain word — “that you’re going to want to pack for cold weather, Edward. I can’t see where you are exactly, because you’re taking off with that dog this afternoon. But the storm that’s coming seems particularly bad in that general area.”

Edward nodded.

“It’s going to snow on the mountains,” she warned him.

“Ew, snow,” I muttered to myself. It was June, for crying out loud.

“Wear a jacket,” Alice told me. Her voice was unfriendly, and that surprised me. I tried to read her face, but she turned away.

I looked at Edward, and he was smiling; whatever was bugging Alice amused him.

Edward had more than enough camping gear to choose from — props in the human charade; the Cullens were good customers at the Newton’s store. He grabbed a down sleeping bag, a small tent, and several packets of dehydrated food — grinning when I made a face at them — and stuffed them all in a backpack.

Alice wandered into the garage while we were there, watching Edward’s preparations without a word. He ignored her.

When he was done packing, Edward handed me his phone. “Why don’t you call Jacob and tell him we’ll be ready for him in an hour or so. He knows where to meet us.”

Jacob wasn’t home, but Billy promised to call around until he could find an available werewolf to pass the news to.

“Don’t you worry about Charlie, Bella,” Billy said. “I’ve got my part of this under control.”

“Yeah, I know Charlie’ll be fine.” I didn’t feel so confident about his son’s safety, but I didn’t add that.

“I wish I could be with the rest of them tomorrow.” Billy chuckled regretfully. “Being an old man is a hardship, Bella.”

The urge to fight must be a defining characteristic of the Y chromosome. They were all the same.

“Have fun with Charlie.”

“Good luck, Bella,” he answered. “And . . . pass that along to the, er, Cullens for me.”

“I will,” I promised, surprised by the gesture.

As I gave the phone back to Edward, I saw that he and Alice were having some kind of silent discussion. She was staring at him, pleading in her eyes. He was frowning back, unhappy with whatever she wanted.

“Billy said to tell you ‘good luck.’”

“That was generous of him,” Edward said, breaking away from her.

“Bella, could I please speak to you alone?” Alice asked swiftly.

“You’re about to make my life harder than it needs to be, Alice,” Edward warned her through his teeth. “I’d really rather you didn’t.”

“This isn’t about you, Edward,” she shot back.

He laughed. Something about her response was funny to him.

“It’s not,” Alice insisted. “This is a female thing.”

He frowned.

“Let her talk to me,” I told him. I was curious.

“You asked for it,” he muttered. He laughed again — half angry, half amused — and strode out of the garage.

I turned to Alice, worried now, but she didn’t look at me. Her bad mood hadn’t passed yet.

She went to sit on the hood of her Porsche, her face dejected. I followed, and leaned against the bumper beside her.

“Bella?” Alice asked in a sad voice, shifting over and curling up against my side. Her voice sounded so miserable that I wrapped my arms around her shoulders in comfort.

“What’s wrong, Alice?”

“Don’t you love me?” she asked in that same sad tone.

“Of course I do. You know that.”

“Then why do I see you sneaking off to Vegas to get married without inviting me?”

“Oh,” I muttered, my cheeks turning pink. I could see that I had seriously hurt her feelings, and I hurried to defend myself. “You know how I hate to make a big deal out of things. It was Edward’s idea, anyway.”

“I don’t care whose idea it was. How could you do this to me? I expect that kind of thing from Edward, but not from you. I love you like you were my own sister.”

“To me, Alice, you are my sister.”

“Words!” she growled.

“Fine, you can come. There won’t be much to see.”

She was still grimacing.

“What?” I demanded.

“How much do you love me, Bella?”

“Why?”

She stared at me with pleading eyes, her long black eyebrows slanting up in the middle and pulling together, her lips trembling at the corners. It was a heart-breaking expression.

“Please, please, please,” she whispered. “Please, Bella, please — if you really love me . . . Please let me do your wedding.”

“Aw, Alice!” I groaned, pulling away and standing up. “No! Don’t do this to me.”

“If you really, truly love me, Bella.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “That is so unfair. And Edward kind of already used that one on me.”

“I’ll bet Edward would like it better if you did this traditionally, though he’d never tell you that. And Esme — think what it would mean to her!”

I groaned. “I’d rather face the newborns alone.”

“I’ll owe you for a decade.”

“You’d owe me for a century!”

Her eyes glowed. “Is that a yes?”

“No! I don’t want to do this!”

“You won’t have to do anything but walk a few yards and then repeat after the minister.”

“Ugh! Ugh, ugh!”

“Please?” She started bouncing in place. “Please, please, please, please, please?”

“I’ll never, never ever forgive you for this, Alice.”

“Yay!” she squealed, clapping her hands together.

“That’s not a yes!”

“But it will be,” she sang.

“Edward!” I yelled, stalking out of the garage. “I know you’re listening. Get over here.” Alice was right behind me, still clapping.

“Thanks so much, Alice,” Edward said acidly, coming from behind me. I turned to let him have it, but his expression was so worried and upset that I couldn’t speak my complaints. I threw my arms around him instead, hiding my face, just in case the angry moisture in my eyes made it look like I was crying.

“Vegas,” Edward promised in my ear.

“Not a chance,” Alice gloated. “Bella would never do that to me. You know, Edward, as a brother, you are sometimes a disappointment.”

“Don’t be mean,” I grumbled at her. “He’s trying to make me happy, unlike you.”

“I’m trying to make you happy, too, Bella. It’s just that I know better what will make you happy . . . in the long run. You’ll thank me for this. Maybe not for fifty years, but definitely someday.”

“I never thought I’d see the day where I’d be willing to take a bet against you, Alice, but it has arrived.”

She laughed her silvery laugh. “So, are you going to show me the ring?”

I grimaced in horror as she grabbed my left hand and then dropped it just as quickly.

“Huh. I saw him put it on you. . . . Did I miss something?” she asked. She concentrated for half a second, furrowing her brow, before she answered her own questions. “No. Wedding’s still on.”

“Bella has issues with jewelry,” Edward explained.

“What’s one more diamond? Well, I guess the ring has lots of diamonds, but my point is that he’s already got one on —”

“Enough, Alice!” Edward cut her off suddenly. The way he glared at her . . . he looked like a vampire again. “We’re in a hurry.”

“I don’t understand. What’s that about diamonds?” I asked.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Alice said. “Edward is right — you’d better get going. You’ve got to set a trap and make camp before the storm comes.” She frowned, and her expression was anxious, almost nervous. “Don’t forget your coat, Bella. It seems . . . unseasonably cold.”

“I’ve already got it,” Edward assured her.

“Have a nice night,” she told us in farewell.

It was twice as far to the clearing as usual; Edward took a long detour, making sure my scent would be nowhere near the trail Jacob would hide later. He carried me in his arms, the bulky backpack in my usual spot.

He stopped at the farthest end of the clearing and set me on my feet.

“All right. Just walk north for a ways, touching as much as you can. Alice gave me a clear picture of their path, and it won’t take long for us to intersect it.”

“North?”

He smiled and pointed out the right direction.

I wandered into the woods, leaving the clear yellow light of the strangely sunny day in the clearing behind me. Maybe Alice’s blurred sight would be wrong about the snow. I hoped so. The sky was mostly clear, though the wind whipped furiously through the open spaces. In the trees it was calmer, but much too cold for June — even in a long-sleeved shirt with a thick sweater over the top, there were goose bumps on my arms. I walked slowly, trailing my fingers over anything close enough: the rough tree bark, the wet ferns, the moss-covered rocks.

Edward stayed with me, walking a parallel line about twenty yards away.

“Am I doing this right?” I called.

“Perfectly.”

I had an idea. “Will this help?” I asked as I ran my fingers through my hair and caught a few loose strands. I draped them over the ferns.

“Yes, that does make the trail stronger. But you don’t need to pull your hair out, Bella. It will be fine.”

“I’ve got a few extras I can spare.”

It was gloomy under the trees, and I wished I could walk closer to Edward and hold his hand.

I wedged another hair into a broken branch that cut through my path.

“You don’t need to let Alice have her way, you know,” Edward said.

“Don’t worry about it, Edward. I’m not going to leave you at the altar, regardless.” I had a sinking feeling that Alice was going to get her way, mostly because she was totally unscrupulous when there was something she wanted, and also because I was a sucker for guilt trips.

“That’s not what I’m worried about. I want this to be what you want it to be.”

I repressed a sigh. It would hurt his feelings if I told the truth — that it didn’t really matter, because it was all just varying degrees of awful anyway.

“Well, even if she does get her way, we can keep it small. Just us. Emmett can get a clerical license off the Internet.”

I giggled. “That does sound better.” It wouldn’t feel very official if Emmett read the vows, which was a plus. But I’d have a hard time keeping a straight face.

“See,” he said with a smile. “There’s always a compromise.”

It took a while for me to reach the spot where the newborn army would be certain to cross my trail, but Edward never got impatient with my pace.

He had to lead a bit more on the way back, to keep me on the same path. It all looked alike to me.

We were almost to the clearing when I fell. I could see the wide opening ahead, and that’s probably why I got too eager and forgot to watch my feet. I caught myself before my head bashed into the nearest tree, but a small branch snapped off under my left hand and gouged into my palm.

“Ouch! Oh, fabulous,” I muttered.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Stay where you are. I’m bleeding. It will stop in a minute.”

He ignored me. He was right there before I could finish.

“I’ve got a first aid kit,” he said, pulling off the backpack. “I had a feeling I might need it.”

“It’s not bad. I can take care of it — you don’t have to make yourself uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” he said calmly. “Here — let me clean it.”

“Wait a second, I just got another idea.”

Without looking at the blood and breathing through my mouth, just in case my stomach might react, I pressed my hand against a rock within my reach.

“What are you doing?”

“Jasper will love this,” I muttered to myself. I started for the clearing again, pressing my palm against everything in my path. “I’ll bet this really gets them going.”

Edward sighed.

“Hold your breath,” I told him.

“I’m fine. I just think you’re going overboard.”

“This is all I get to do. I want to do a good job.”

We broke through the last of the trees as I spoke. I let my injured hand graze across the ferns.

“Well, you have,” Edward assured me. “The newborns will be frantic, and Jasper will be very impressed with your dedication. Now let me treat your hand — you’ve gotten the cut dirty.”

“Let me do it, please.”

He took my hand and smiled as he examined it. “This doesn’t bother me anymore.”

I watched him carefully as he cleaned the gash, looking for some sign of distress. He continued to breathe evenly in and out, the same small smile on his lips.

“Why not?” I finally asked as he smoothed a bandage across my palm.

He shrugged. “I got over it.”

“You . . . got over it? When? How?” I tried to remember the last time he’d held his breath around me. All I could think of was my wretched birthday party last September.

Edward pursed his lips, seeming to search for the words. “I lived through an entire twenty-four hours thinking that you were dead, Bella. That changed the way I look at a lot of things.”

“Did it change the way I smell to you?”

“Not at all. But . . . having experienced the way it feels to think I’ve lost you . . . my reactions have changed. My entire being shies away from any course that could inspire that kind of pain again.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

He smiled at my expression. “I guess that you could call it a very educational experience.”

The wind tore through the clearing then, lashing my hair around my face and making me shiver.

“All right,” he said, reaching into his pack again. “You’ve done your part.” He pulled out my heavy winter jacket and held it out for me to slide my arms in. “Now it’s out of our hands. Let’s go camping!”

I laughed at the mock enthusiasm in his voice.

He took my bandaged hand — the other was in worse shape, still in the brace — and started toward the other side of the clearing.

“Where are we meeting Jacob?” I asked.

“Right here.” He gestured to the trees in front of us just as Jacob stepped warily from their shadows.

It shouldn’t have surprised me to see him human. I wasn’t sure why I’d been looking for the big red-brown wolf.

Jacob seemed bigger again — no doubt a product of my expectations; I must have unconsciously been hoping to see the smaller Jacob from my memory, the easygoing friend who hadn’t made everything so difficult. He had his arms folded across his bare chest, a jacket clutched in one fist. His face was expressionless as he watched us.

Edward’s lips pulled down at the corners. “There had to have been a better way to do this.”

“Too late now,” I muttered glumly.

He sighed.

“Hey, Jake,” I greeted him when we got closer.

“Hi, Bella.”

“Hello, Jacob,” Edward said.

Jacob ignored the pleasantry, all business. “Where do I take her?”

Edward pulled a map from a side pocket on the pack and offered it to him. Jacob unfolded it.

“We’re here now,” Edward said, reaching over to touch the right spot. Jacob recoiled from his hand automatically, and then steadied himself. Edward pretended not to notice.

“And you’re taking her up here,” Edward continued, tracing a serpentine pattern around the elevation lines on the paper. “Roughly nine miles.”

Jacob nodded once.

“When you’re about a mile away, you should cross my path. That will lead you in. Do you need the map?”

“No, thanks. I know this area pretty well. I think I know where I’m going.”

Jacob seemed to have to work harder than Edward to keep the tone polite.

“I’ll take a longer route,” Edward said. “And I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Edward stared at me unhappily. He didn’t like this part of the plan.

“See you,” I murmured.

Edward faded into the trees, heading in the opposite direction.

As soon as he was gone, Jacob turned cheerful.

“What’s up, Bella?” he asked with a big grin.

I rolled my eyes. “Same old, same old.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Bunch of vampires trying to kill you. The usual.”

“The usual.”

“Well,” he said as he shrugged into his jacket to free his arms. “Let’s get going.”

Making a face, I took a small step closer to him.

He bent down and swept his arm behind my knees, knocking them out from under me. His other arm caught me before my head hit the ground.

“Jerk,” I muttered.

Jacob chuckled, already running through the trees. He kept a steady pace, a brisk jog that a fit human could keep up with . . . across a level plane . . . if they weren’t burdened with a hundred-plus pounds as he was.

“You don’t have to run. You’ll get tired.”

22. FIRE AND ICE

THE WIND SHOOK THE TENT AGAIN, AND I SHOOK WITH IT.

The temperature was dropping. I could feel it through the down bag, through my jacket. I was fully dressed, my hiking boots still laced into place. It didn’t make any difference. How could it be so cold? How could it keep getting colder? It had to bottom out sometime, didn’t it?

“W-w-w-w-w-what t-t-t-t-time is it?” I forced the words through my rattling teeth.

“Two,” Edward answered.

Edward sat as far from me as possible in the cramped space, afraid to even breathe on me when I was already so cold. It was too dark to see his face, but his voice was wild with worry, indecision, and frustration.

“Maybe . . .”

“No, I’m f-f-f-f-f-fine, r-r-r-really. I don’t w-w-w-want to g-go outside.”

He’d tried to talk me into making a run for it a dozen times already, but I was terrified of leaving my shelter. If it was this cold in here, protected from the raging wind, I could imagine how bad it would be if we were running through it.

And it would waste all our efforts this afternoon. Would we have enough time to reset ourselves when the storm was over? What if it didn’t end? It made no sense to move now. I could shiver my way through one night.

I was worried that the trail I had laid would be lost, but he promised that it would still be plain to the coming monsters.

“What can I do?” he almost begged.

I just shook my head.

Out in the snow, Jacob whined unhappily.

“G-g-g-get out of h-h-h-ere,” I ordered, again.

“He’s just worried about you,” Edward translated. “He’s fine. His body is equipped to deal with this.”

“H-h-h-h-h-h.” I wanted to say that he should still leave, but I couldn’t get it past my teeth. I nearly bit my tongue off trying. At least Jacob did seem to be well equipped for the snow, better even than the others in his pack with his thicker, longer, shaggy russet fur. I wondered why that was.

Jacob whimpered, a high-pitched, grating sound of complaint.

“What do you want me to do?” Edward growled, too anxious to bother with politeness anymore. “Carry her through that? I don’t see you making yourself useful. Why don’t you go fetch a space heater or something?”

“I’m ok-k-k-k-k-k-kay,” I protested. Judging from Edward’s groan and the muted growl outside the tent, I hadn’t convinced anyone. The wind rocked the tent roughly, and I shuddered in harmony with it.

A sudden howl ripped through the roar of the wind, and I covered my ears against the noise. Edward scowled.

“That was hardly necessary,” he muttered. “And that’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” he called more loudly.

“Better than anything you’ve come up with,” Jacob answered, his human voice startling me. “Go fetch a space heater,” he grumbled. “I’m not a St. Bernard.”

I heard the sound of the zipper around the tent door pulling swiftly down.

Jacob slid through the smallest opening he could manage, while the arctic air flowed in around him, a few flecks of snow falling to the floor of the tent. I shivered so hard it was a convulsion.

“I don’t like this,” Edward hissed as Jake zipped the tent door shut. “Just give her the coat and get out.”

My eyes were adjusted enough to see shapes — Jacob was carrying the parka that had been hanging on a tree next to the tent.

I tried to ask what they were talking about, but all that came out of my mouth was, “W-w-w-w-w-w,” as the shivering made me stutter uncontrollably.

“The parka’s for tomorrow — she’s too cold to warm it up by herself. It’s frozen.” He dropped it by the door. “You said she needed a space heater, and here I am.” Jacob held his arms as wide as the tent allowed. As usual, when he’d been running around as a wolf, he’d only thrown on the bare essentials — just a pair of sweats, no shirt, no shoes.

“J-J-J-J-Jake, you’ll f-f-f-freez-z-z-ze,” I tried to complain.

“Not me,” he said cheerfully. “I run at a toasty one-oh-eight point nine these days. I’ll have you sweating in no time.”

Edward snarled, but Jacob didn’t even look at him. Instead, he crawled to my side and started unzipping my sleeping bag.

Edward’s hand was suddenly hard on his shoulder, restraining, snow white against the dark skin. Jacob’s jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring, his body recoiling from the cold touch. The long muscles in his arms flexed automatically.

“Get your hand off of me,” he growled through his teeth.

“Keep your hands off of her,” Edward answered blackly.

“D-d-d-don’t f-f-f-f-fight,” I pleaded. Another tremor rocked through me. It felt like my teeth were going to shatter, they were slamming together so hard.

“I’m sure she’ll thank you for this when her toes turn black and drop off,” Jacob snapped.

Edward hesitated, then his hand fell away and he slid back to his position in the corner.

His voice was flat and frightening. “Watch yourself.”

Jacob chuckled.

“Scoot over, Bella,” he said, zipping the sleeping bag open farther.

I stared at him in outrage. No wonder Edward was reacting this way.

“N-n-n-n-n,” I tried to protest.

“Don’t be stupid,” he said, exasperated. “Don’t you like having ten toes?”

He crammed his body into the nonexistent space, forcing the zipper up behind himself.

And then I couldn’t object — I didn’t want to anymore. He was so warm. His arms constricted around me, holding me snugly against his bare chest. The heat was irresistible, like air after being underwater for too long. He cringed when I pressed my icy fingers eagerly against his skin.

“Jeez, you’re freezing, Bella,” he complained.

“S-s-s-s-sorry,” I stuttered.

“Try to relax,” he suggested as another shiver rippled through me violently. “You’ll be warm in a minute. Of course, you’d warm up faster if you took your clothes off.”

Edward growled sharply.

“That’s just a simple fact,” Jacob defended himself. “Survival one-oh-one.”

“C-c-cut it out, Jake,” I said angrily, though my body refused to even try to pull away from him. “N-n-n-nobody really n-n-n-n-needs all ten t-t-t-toes.”

“Don’t worry about the bloodsucker,” Jacob suggested, and his tone was smug. “He’s just jealous.”

“Of course I am.” Edward’s voice was velvet again, under control, a musical murmur in the darkness. “You don’t have the faintest idea how much I wish I could do what you’re doing for her, mongrel.”

“Those are the breaks,” Jacob said lightly, but then his tone soured. “At least you know she wishes it was you.”

“True,” Edward agreed.

The shuddering slowed, became bearable while they wrangled.

“There,” Jacob said, pleased. “Feeling better?”

I was finally able to speak clearly. “Yes.”

“Your lips are still blue,” he mused. “Want me to warm those up for you, too? You only have to ask.”

Edward sighed heavily.

“Behave yourself,” I muttered, pressing my face against his shoulder. He flinched again when my cold skin touched his, and I smiled with slightly vindictive satisfaction.

It was already warm and snug inside the sleeping bag. Jacob’s body heat seemed to radiate from every side — maybe because there was so much of him. I kicked my boots off, and pushed my toes against his legs. He jumped slightly, and then leaned his head down to press his hot cheek against my numb ear.

I noticed that Jacob’s skin had a woodsy, musky scent — it fit the setting, here in the middle of the forest. It was nice. I wondered if the Cullens and the Quileutes weren’t just playing up that whole odor issue because of their prejudices. Everyone smelled fine to me.

The storm howled like an animal attacking the tent, but it didn’t worry me now. Jacob was out of the cold, and so was I. Plus, I was simply too exhausted to worry about anything — tired from just staying awake so late, and aching from the muscle spasms. My body relaxed slowly as I thawed, piece by frozen piece, and then turned limp.

“Jake?” I mumbled sleepily. “Can I ask you something? I’m not trying to be a jerk or anything, I’m honestly curious.” They were the same words he’d used in my kitchen . . . how long ago was it now?

“Sure,” he chuckled, remembering.

“Why are you so much furrier than your friends? You don’t have to answer if I’m being rude.” I didn’t know the rules for etiquette as they applied to werewolf culture.

“Because my hair is longer,” he said, amused — my question hadn’t offended him, at least. He shook his head so that his unkempt hair — grown out to his chin now — tickled my cheek.

“Oh.” I was surprised, but it made sense. So that was why they’d all cropped their hair in the beginning, when they joined the pack. “Then why don’t you cut it? Do you like to be shaggy?”

He didn’t answer right away this time, and Edward laughed under his breath.

“Sorry,” I said, pausing to yawn. “I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to tell me.”

Jacob made an annoyed sound. “Oh, he’ll tell you anyway, so I might as well. . . . I was growing my hair out because . . . it seemed like you liked it better long.”

“Oh.” I felt awkward. “I, er, like it both ways, Jake. You don’t need to be . . . inconvenienced.”

He shrugged. “Turns out it was very convenient tonight, so don’t worry about it.”

I didn’t have anything else to say. As the silence lengthened, my eyelids drooped and shut, and my breathing grew slower, more even.

“That’s right, honey, go to sleep,” Jacob whispered.

I sighed, content, already half-unconscious.

“Seth is here,” Edward muttered to Jacob, and I suddenly understood the point of the howling.

“Perfect. Now you can keep an eye on everything else, while I take care of your girlfriend for you.”

Edward didn’t answer, but I groaned groggily. “Stop it,” I muttered.

It was quiet then, inside at least. Outside, the wind shrieked insanely through the trees. The shimmying of the tent made it hard to sleep. The poles would suddenly jerk and quiver, pulling me back from the edge of unconsciousness each time I was close to slipping under. I felt so bad for the wolf, the boy that was stuck outside in the snow.

My mind wandered as I waited for sleep to find me. This warm little space made me think of the early days with Jacob, and I remembered how it used to be when he was my replacement sun, the warmth that made my empty life livable. It had been a while since I’d thought of Jake that way, but here he was, warming me again.

“Please!” Edward hissed. “Do you mind!”

“What?” Jacob whispered back, his tone surprised.

“Do you think you could attempt to control your thoughts?” Edward’s low whisper was furious.

“No one said you had to listen,” Jacob muttered, defiant, yet still embarrassed. “Get out of my head.”

“I wish I could. You have no idea how loud your little fantasies are. It’s like you’re shouting them at me.”

“I’ll try to keep it down,” Jacob whispered sarcastically.

There was a brief moment of silence.

“Yes,” Edward answered an unspoken thought in a murmur so low I barely made it out. “I’m jealous of that, too.”

“I figured it was like that,” Jacob whispered smugly. “Sort of evens the playing field up a little, doesn’t it?”

Edward chuckled. “In your dreams.”

“You know, she could still change her mind,” Jacob taunted him. “Considering all the things I could do with her that you can’t. At least, not without killing her, that is.”

“Go to sleep, Jacob,” Edward murmured. “You’re starting to get on my nerves.”

“I think I will. I’m really very comfortable.”

Edward didn’t answer.

I was too far gone to ask them to stop talking about me like I wasn’t there. The conversation had taken on a dreamlike quality to me, and I wasn’t sure I was really awake.

“Maybe I would,” Edward said after a moment, answering a question I hadn’t heard.

“But would you be honest?”

“You can always ask and see.” Edward’s tone made me wonder if I was missing out on a joke.

“Well, you see inside my head — let me see inside yours tonight, it’s only fair,” Jacob said.

“Your head is full of questions. Which one do you want me to answer?”

“The jealousy . . . it has to be eating at you. You can’t be as sure of yourself as you seem. Unless you have no emotions at all.”

“Of course it is,” Edward agreed, no longer amused. “Right now it’s so bad that I can barely control my voice. Of course, it’s even worse when she’s away from me, with you, and I can’t see her.”

“Do you think about it all the time?” Jacob whispered. “Does it make it hard to concentrate when she’s not with you?”

“Yes and no,” Edward said; he seemed determined to answer honestly. “My mind doesn’t work quite the same as yours. I can think of many more things at one time. Of course, that means that I’m always able to think of you, always able to wonder if that’s where her mind is, when she’s quiet and thoughtful.”

They were both still for a minute.

“Yes, I would guess that she thinks about you often,” Edward murmured in response to Jacob’s thoughts. “More often than I like. She worries that you’re unhappy. Not that you don’t know that. Not that you don’t use that.”

23. MONSTER

WHEN I WOKE UP IN THE MORNING, IT WAS VERY bright — even inside the tent, the sunlight hurt my eyes. And I was sweating, as Jacob had predicted. Jacob was snoring lightly in my ear, his arms still wrapped around me.

I pulled my head away from his feverishly warm chest and felt the sting of the cold morning on my clammy cheek. Jacob sighed in his sleep; his arms tightened unconsciously.

I squirmed, unable to loosen his hold, struggling to lift my head enough to see. . . .

Edward met my gaze evenly. His expression was calm, but the pain in his eyes was unconcealed.

“Is it any warmer out there?” I whispered.

“Yes. I don’t think the space heater will be necessary today.”

I tried to get to the zipper, but I couldn’t free my arms. I strained, fighting against Jacob’s inert strength. Jacob muttered, still fast asleep, his arms constricting again.

“Some help?” I asked quietly.

Edward smiled. “Did you want me to take his arms all the way off?”

“No, thank you. Just get me free. I’m going to get heat stroke.”

Edward unzipped the sleeping bag in a swift, abrupt movement. Jacob fell out, his bare back hitting the icy floor of the tent.

“Hey!” he complained, his eyes flying open. Instinctively, he flinched away from the cold, rolling onto me. I gasped as his weight knocked the breath out of me.

And then his weight was gone. I felt the impact as Jacob flew into one of the tent poles and the tent shuddered.

The growling erupted from all around. Edward was crouching in front of me, and I couldn’t see his face, but the snarls were ripping angrily out of his chest. Jacob was half-crouched, too, his whole body quivering, while growls rumbled through his clenched teeth. Outside the tent, Seth Clearwater’s vicious snarls echoed off the rocks.

“Stop it, stop it!” I yelled, scrambling awkwardly to put myself between them. The space was so small that I didn’t have to stretch far to put one hand on each of their chests. Edward wrapped his hand around my waist, ready to yank me out of the way.

“Stop it, now,” I warned him.

Under my touch, Jacob began to calm himself. The shaking slowed, but his teeth were still bared, his eyes furiously focused on Edward. Seth continued to growl, a long unbroken sound, a violent background to the sudden silence in the tent.

“Jacob?” I asked, waiting until he finally dropped his glare to look at me. “Are you hurt?”

“Of course not!” he hissed.

I turned to Edward. He was looking at me, his expression hard and angry. “That wasn’t nice. You should say sorry.”

His eyes widened in disgust. “You must be joking — he was crushing you!”

“Because you dumped him on the floor! He didn’t do it on purpose, and he didn’t hurt me.”

Edward groaned, revolted. Slowly, he looked up to glare at Jacob with hostile eyes. “My apologies, dog.”

“No harm done,” Jacob said, a taunting edge to his voice.

It was still cold, though not as cold as it had been. I curled my arms around my chest.

“Here,” Edward said, calm again. He took the parka off the floor and wrapped it over the top of my coat.

“That’s Jacob’s,” I objected.

“Jacob has a fur coat,” Edward hinted.

“I’ll just use the sleeping bag again, if you don’t mind.” Jacob ignored him, climbing around us and sliding into the down bag. “I wasn’t quite ready to wake up. That wasn’t the best night’s sleep I ever had.”

“It was your idea,” Edward said impassively.

Jacob was curled up, his eyes already closed. He yawned. “I didn’t say it wasn’t the best night I’ve ever spent. Just that I didn’t get a lot of sleep. I thought Bella was never going to shut up.”

I winced, wondering what might have come out of my mouth in my sleep. The possibilities were horrifying.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” Edward murmured.

Jacob’s dark eyes fluttered open. “Didn’t you have a nice night, then?” he asked, smug.

“It wasn’t the worst night of my life.”

“Did it make the top ten?” Jacob asked with perverse enjoyment.

“Possibly.”

Jacob smiled and closed his eyes.

“But,” Edward went on, “if I had been able to take your place last night, it would not have made the top ten of the best nights of my life. Dream about that.”

Jacob’s eyes opened into a glare. He sat up stiffly, his shoulders tense.

“You know what? I think it’s too crowded in here.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

I elbowed Edward in the ribs — probably giving myself a bruise.

“Guess I’ll catch up on my sleep later, then.” Jacob made a face. “I need to talk to Sam anyway.”

He rolled to his knees and grabbed the door’s zipper.

Pain crackled down my spine and lodged in my stomach as I abruptly realized that this could be the last time I would see him. He was going back to Sam, back to fight the horde of bloodthirsty newborn vampires.

“Jake, wait —” I reached after him, my hand sliding down his arm.

He jerked his arm away before my fingers could find purchase.

“Please, Jake? Won’t you stay?”

“No.”

The word was hard and cold. I knew my face gave away my pain, because he exhaled and half a smile softened his expression.

“Don’t worry about me, Bells. I’ll be fine, just like I always am.” He forced a laugh. “’Sides, you think I’m going to let Seth go in my place — have all the fun and steal all the glory? Right.” He snorted.

“Be careful —”

He shoved out of the tent before I could finish.

“Give it a rest, Bella,” I heard him mutter as he re-zipped the door.

I listened for the sound of his retreating footsteps, but it was perfectly still. No more wind. I could hear morning birdsong far away on the mountain, and nothing else. Jacob moved in silence now.

I huddled in my coats, and leaned against Edward’s shoulder. We were quiet for a long time.

“How much longer?” I asked.

“Alice told Sam it should be an hour or so,” Edward said, soft and bleak.

“We stay together. No matter what.”

“No matter what,” he agreed, his eyes tight.

“I know,” I said. “I’m terrified for them, too.”

“They know how to handle themselves,” Edward assured me, purposely making his voice light. “I just hate missing the fun.”

Again with the fun. My nostrils flared.

He put his arm around my shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he urged, and then he kissed my forehead.

As if there was any way to avoid that. “Sure, sure.”

“Do you want me to distract you?” He breathed, running his cold fingers along my cheekbone.

I shivered involuntarily; the morning was still frosty.

“Maybe not right now,” he answered himself, pulling his hand away.

“There are other ways to distract me.”

“What would you like?”

“You could tell me about your ten best nights,” I suggested. “I’m curious.”

He laughed. “Try to guess.”

I shook my head. “There’re too many nights I don’t know about. A century of them.”

“I’ll narrow it down for you. All of my best nights have happened since I met you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really — and by quite a wide margin, too.”

I thought for a minute. “I can only think of mine,” I admitted.

“They might be the same,” he encouraged.

“Well, there was the first night. The night you stayed.”

“Yes, that’s one of mine, too. Of course, you were unconscious for my favorite part.”

“That’s right,” I remembered. “I was talking that night, too.”

“Yes,” he agreed.

My face got hot as I wondered again what I might have said while sleeping in Jacob’s arms. I couldn’t remember what I’d dreamed about, or if I’d dreamed at all, so that was no help.

“What did I say last night?” I whispered more quietly than before.

He shrugged instead of answering, and I winced.

“That bad?”

“Nothing too horrible,” he sighed.

“Please tell me.”

“Mostly you said my name, the same as usual.”

“That’s not bad,” I agreed cautiously.

“Near the end, though, you started mumbling some nonsense about ‘Jacob, my Jacob.’” I could hear the pain, even in the whisper. “Your Jacob enjoyed that quite a lot.”

I stretched my neck up, straining to reach my lips to the edge of his jaw. I couldn’t see into his eyes. He was staring up at the ceiling of the tent.

“Sorry,” I murmured. “That’s just the way I differentiate.”

“Differentiate?”

“Between Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Between the Jacob I like and the one who annoys the hell out of me,” I explained.

“That makes sense.” He sounded slightly mollified. “Tell me another favorite night.”

“Flying home from Italy.”

He frowned.

“Is that not one of yours?” I wondered.

“No, it is one of mine, actually, but I’m surprised it’s on your list. Weren’t you under the ludicrous impression I was just acting from a guilty conscience, and I was going to bolt as soon as the plane doors opened?”

“Yes.” I smiled. “But, still, you were there.”

He kissed my hair. “You love me more than I deserve.”

I laughed at the impossibility of that idea. “Next would be the night after Italy,” I continued.

“Yes, that’s on the list. You were so funny.”

“Funny?” I objected.

“I had no idea your dreams were so vivid. It took me forever to convince you that you were awake.”

“I’m still not sure,” I muttered. “You’ve always seemed more like a dream than reality. Tell me one of yours, now. Did I guess your first place?”

“No — that would be two nights ago, when you finally agreed to marry me.”

I made a face.

“That doesn’t make your list?”

I thought about the way he’d kissed me, the concession I’d gained, and changed my mind. “Yes . . . it does. But with reservations. I don’t understand why it’s so important to you. You already had me forever.”

“A hundred years from now, when you’ve gained enough perspective to really appreciate the answer, I will explain it to you.”

“I’ll remind you to explain — in a hundred years.”

“Are you warm enough?” he asked suddenly.

“I’m fine,” I assured him. “Why?”

Before he could answer, the silence outside the tent was ripped apart by an earsplitting howl of pain. The sound ricocheted off the bare rock face of the mountain and filled the air so that it seared from every direction.

The howl tore through my mind like a tornado, both strange and familiar. Strange because I’d never heard such a tortured cry before. Familiar because I knew the voice at once — I recognized the sound and understood the meaning as perfectly as if I’d uttered it myself. It made no difference that Jacob was not human when he cried out. I needed no translation.

Jacob was close. Jacob had heard every word we’d said. Jacob was in agony.

The howl choked off into a peculiar gurgled sob, and then it was quiet again.

I did not hear his silent escape, but I could feel it — I could feel the absence I had wrongly assumed before, the empty space he left behind.

“Because your space heater has reached his limit,” Edward answered quietly. “Truce over,” he added, so low I couldn’t be sure that was really what he’d said.

“Jacob was listening,” I whispered. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

“You knew.”

“Yes.”

I stared at nothing, seeing nothing.

“I never promised to fight fair,” he reminded me quietly. “And he deserves to know.”

My head fell into my hands.

“Are you angry with me?” he asked.

“Not you,” I whispered. “I’m horrified at me.”

“Don’t torment yourself,” he pleaded.

“Yes,” I agreed bitterly. “I should save my energy to torment Jacob some more. I wouldn’t want to leave any part of him unharmed.”

“He knew what he was doing.”

“Do you think that matters?” I was blinking back tears, and this was easy to hear in my voice. “Do you think I care whether it’s fair or whether he was adequately warned? I’m hurting him. Every time I turn around, I’m hurting him again.” My voice was getting louder, more hysterical. “I’m a hideous person.”

He wrapped his arms tightly around me. “No, you’re not.”

“I am! What’s wrong with me?” I struggled against his arms, and he let them drop. “I have to go find him.”

“Bella, he’s already miles away, and it’s cold.”

“I don’t care. I can’t just sit here.” I shrugged off Jacob’s parka, shoved my feet into my boots, and crawled stiffly to the door; my legs felt numb. “I have to — I have to . . .” I didn’t know how to finish the sentence, didn’t know what there was to do, but I unzipped the door anyway, and climbed out into the bright, icy morning.

There was less snow than I would have thought after the fury of last night’s storm. Probably it had blown away rather than melted in the sun that now shone low in the southeast, glancing off the snow that lingered and stabbing at my unadjusted eyes. The air still had a bite to it, but it was dead calm and slowly becoming more seasonable as the sun rose higher.

Seth Clearwater was curled up on a patch of dry pine needles in the shadow of a thick spruce, his head on his paws. His sand-colored fur was almost invisible against the dead needles, but I could see the bright snow reflect off his open eyes. He was staring at me with what I imagined was an accusation.

I knew Edward was following me as I stumbled toward the trees. I couldn’t hear him, but the sun reflected off his skin in glittering rainbows that danced ahead of me. He didn’t reach out to stop me until I was several paces into the forest shadows.

His hand caught my left wrist. He ignored it when I tried to yank myself free.

“You can’t go after him. Not today. It’s almost time. And getting yourself lost wouldn’t help anyone, regardless.”

I twisted my wrist, pulling uselessly.

“I’m sorry, Bella,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I did that.”

“You didn’t do anything. It’s my fault. I did this. I did everything wrong. I could have . . . When he . . . I shouldn’t have . . . I . . . I . . .” I was sobbing.

“Bella, Bella.”

His arms folded around me, and my tears soaked into his shirt.

“I should have — told him — I should — have said —” What? What could have made this right? “He shouldn’t have — found out like this.”

“Do you want me to see if I can bring him back, so that you can talk to him? There’s still a little time,” Edward murmured, hushed agony in his voice.

I nodded into his chest, afraid to see his face.

“Stay by the tent. I’ll be back soon.”

His arms disappeared. He left so quickly that, in the second it took me to look up, he was already gone. I was alone.

A new sob broke from my chest. I was hurting everyone today. Was there anything I touched that didn’t get spoiled?

I didn’t know why it was hitting me so hard now. It wasn’t like I hadn’t known this was coming all along. But Jacob had never reacted so strongly — lost his bold overconfidence and shown the intensity of his pain. The sound of his agony still cut at me, somewhere deep in my chest. Right beside it was the other pain. Pain for feeling pain over Jacob. Pain for hurting Edward, too. For not being able to watch Jacob go with composure, knowing that it was the right thing, the only way.

I was selfish, I was hurtful. I tortured the ones I loved.

I was like Cathy, like Wuthering Heights, only my options were so much better than hers, neither one evil, neither one weak. And here I sat, crying about it, not doing anything productive to make it right. Just like Cathy.

I couldn’t allow what hurt me to influence my decisions anymore. It was too little, much too late, but I had to do what was right now. Maybe it was already done for me. Maybe Edward would not be able to bring him back. And then I would accept that and get on with my life. Edward would never see me shed another tear for Jacob Black. There would be no more tears. I wiped the last of them away with cold fingers now.

But if Edward did return with Jacob, that was it. I had to tell him to go away and never come back.

Why was that so hard? So very much more difficult than saying goodbye to my other friends, to Angela, to Mike? Why did that hurt? It wasn’t right. That shouldn’t be able to hurt me. I had what I wanted. I couldn’t have them both, because Jacob could not be just my friend. It was time to give up wishing for that. How ridiculously greedy could any one person be?

I had to get over this irrational feeling that Jacob belonged in my life. He couldn’t belong with me, could not be my Jacob, when I belonged to someone else.

I walked slowly back to the little clearing, my feet dragging. When I broke into the open space, blinking against the sharp light, I threw one quick glance toward Seth — he hadn’t moved from his bed of pine needles — and then looked away, avoiding his eyes.

I could feel that my hair was wild, twisted into clumps like Medusa’s snakes. I yanked through it with my fingers, and then gave up quickly. Who cared what I looked like, anyway?

I grabbed the canteen hanging beside the tent door and shook it. It sloshed wetly, so I unscrewed the lid and took a swig to rinse my mouth with the ice water. There was food somewhere nearby, but I didn’t feel hungry enough to look for it. I started pacing across the bright little space, feeling Seth’s eyes on me the whole time. Because I wouldn’t look at him, in my head he became the boy again, rather than the gigantic wolf. So much like a younger Jacob.

I wanted to ask Seth to bark or give some other sign if Jacob was coming back, but I stopped myself. It didn’t matter if Jacob came back. It might be easier if he didn’t. I wished I had some way to call Edward.

Seth whined at that moment, and got to his feet.

“What is it?” I asked him stupidly.

He ignored me, trotting to the edge of the trees, and pointing his nose toward the west. He began whimpering.

“Is it the others, Seth?” I demanded. “In the clearing?”

He looked at me and yelped softly once, and then turned his nose alertly back to the west. His ears laid back and he whined again.

Why was I such a fool? What was I thinking, sending Edward away? How was I supposed to know what was going on? I didn’t speak wolf.

A cold trickle of fear began to ooze down my spine. What if the time had run out? What if Jacob and Edward got too close? What if Edward decided to join in the fight?

The icy fear pooled in my stomach. What if Seth’s distress had nothing to do with the clearing, and his yelp had been a denial? What if Jacob and Edward were fighting with each other, far away somewhere in the forest? They wouldn’t do that, would they?

24. SNAP DECISION

I LAY FACEDOWN ACROSS THE SLEEPING BAG, WAITING for justice to find me. Maybe an avalanche would bury me here. I wished it would. I never wanted to have to see my face in the mirror again.

There was no sound to warn me. Out of nowhere, Edward’s cold hand stroked against my knotted hair. I shuddered guiltily at his touch.

“Are you all right?” he murmured, his voice anxious.

“No. I want to die.”

“That will never happen. I won’t allow it.”

I groaned and then whispered, “You might change your mind about that.”

“Where’s Jacob?”

“He went to fight,” I mumbled into the floor.

Jacob had left the little camp joyfully — with a cheerful “I’ll be right back” — running full tilt for the clearing, already quivering as he prepared to shift to his other self. By now the whole pack knew everything. Seth Clearwater, pacing outside the tent, was an intimate witness to my disgrace.

Edward was silent for a long moment. “Oh,” he finally said.

The tone of his voice worried me that my avalanche wasn’t coming fast enough. I peeked up at him and, sure enough, his eyes were unfocused as he listened to something I’d rather die than have him hear. I dropped my face back to the floor.

It stunned me when Edward chuckled reluctantly.

“And I thought I fought dirty,” he said with grudging admiration. “He makes me look like the patron saint of ethics.” His hand brushed against the part of my cheek that was exposed. “I’m not mad at you, love. Jacob’s more cunning than I gave him credit for. I do wish you hadn’t asked him, though.”

“Edward,” I whispered to the rough nylon. “I . . . I . . . I’m —”

“Shh,” he hushed me, his fingers soothing against my cheek. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just that he would have kissed you anyway — even if you hadn’t fallen for it — and now I don’t have an excuse to break his face. I would have really enjoyed that, too.”

“Fallen for it?” I mumbled almost incomprehensibly.

“Bella, did you really believe he was that noble? That he would go out in a flame of glory just to clear the way for me?”

I raised my head slowly to meet his patient gaze. His expression was soft; his eyes were full of understanding rather than the revulsion I deserved to see.

“Yes, I did believe that,” I muttered, and then looked away. But I didn’t feel any anger at Jacob for tricking me. There wasn’t enough room in my body to contain anything besides the hatred I felt toward myself.

Edward laughed softly again. “You’re such a bad liar, you’ll believe anyone who has the least bit of skill.”

“Why aren’t you angry with me?” I whispered. “Why don’t you hate me? Or haven’t you heard the whole story yet?”

“I think I got a fairly comprehensive look,” he said in a light, easy voice. “Jacob makes vivid mental pictures. I feel almost as bad for his pack as I do for myself. Poor Seth was getting nauseated. But Sam is making Jacob focus now.”

I closed my eyes and shook my head in agony. The sharp nylon fibers of the tent floor scraped against my skin.

“You’re only human,” he whispered, stroking my hair again.

“That’s the most miserable defense I’ve ever heard.”

“But you are human, Bella. And, as much as I might wish otherwise, so is he. . . . There are holes in your life that I can’t fill. I understand that.”

“But that’s not true. That’s what makes me so horrible. There are no holes.”

“You love him,” he murmured gently.

Every cell in my body ached to deny it.

“I love you more,” I said. It was the best I could do.

“Yes, I know that, too. But . . . when I left you, Bella, I left you bleeding. Jacob was the one to stitch you back up again. That was bound to leave its mark — on both of you. I’m not sure those kinds of stitches dissolve on their own. I can’t blame either of you for something I made necessary. I may gain forgiveness, but that doesn’t let me escape the consequences.”

“I should have known you’d find some way to blame yourself. Please stop. I can’t stand it.”

“What would you like me to say?”

“I want you to call me every bad name you can think of, in every language you know. I want you to tell me that you’re disgusted with me and that you’re going to leave so that I can beg and grovel on my knees for you to stay.”

“I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I can’t do that.”

“At least stop trying to make me feel better. Let me suffer. I deserve it.”

“No,” he murmured.

I nodded slowly. “You’re right. Keep on being too understanding. That’s probably worse.”

He was silent for a moment, and I sensed a charge in the atmosphere, a new urgency.

“It’s getting close,” I stated.

“Yes, a few more minutes now. Just enough time to say one more thing. . . .”

I waited. When he finally spoke again, he was whispering. “I can be noble, Bella. I’m not going to make you choose between us. Just be happy, and you can have whatever part of me you want, or none at all, if that’s better. Don’t let any debt you feel you owe me influence your decision.”

I pushed off the floor, shoving myself up onto my knees.

“Dammit, stop that!” I shouted at him.

His eyes widened in surprise. “No — you don’t understand. I’m not just trying to make you feel better, Bella, I really mean it.”

“I know you do,” I groaned. “What happened to fighting back? Don’t start with the noble self-sacrifice now! Fight!”

“How?” he asked, and his eyes were ancient with their sadness.

I scrambled into his lap, throwing my arms around him.

“I don’t care that it’s cold here. I don’t care that I stink like a dog right now. Make me forget how awful I am. Make me forget him. Make me forget my own name. Fight back!”

I didn’t wait for him to decide — or to have the chance to tell me he wasn’t interested in a cruel, faithless monster like me. I pulled myself against him and crushed my mouth to his snow-cold lips.

“Careful, love,” he murmured under my urgent kiss.

“No,” I growled.

He gently pushed my face a few inches back. “You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

“I’m not trying to prove something. You said I could have any part of you I wanted. I want this part. I want every part.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and strained to reach his lips. He bent his head to kiss me back, but his cool mouth was hesitant as my impatience grew more pronounced. My body was making my intentions clear, giving me away. Inevitably, his hands moved to restrain me.

“Perhaps this isn’t the best moment for that,” he suggested, too calm for my liking.

“Why not?” I grumbled. There was no point in fighting if he was going to be rational; I dropped my arms.

“Firstly, because it is cold.” He reached out to pull the sleeping bag off the floor; he wrapped it around me like a blanket.

“Wrong,” I said. “First, because you are bizarrely moral for a vampire.”

He chuckled. “All right, I’ll give you that. The cold is second. And thirdly . . . well, you do actually stink, love.”

He wrinkled his nose.

I sighed.

“Fourthly,” he murmured, dropping his face so that he was whispering in my ear. “We will try, Bella. I’ll make good on my promise. But I’d much rather it wasn’t in reaction to Jacob Black.”

I cringed, and buried my face against his shoulder.

“And fifthly . . .”

“This is a very long list,” I muttered.

He laughed. “Yes, but did you want to listen to the fight or not?”

As he spoke, Seth howled stridently outside the tent.

My body stiffened to the sound. I didn’t realize my left hand was clenched into a fist, nails biting into my bandaged palm, until Edward took it and gently smoothed my fingers out.

“It’s going to be fine, Bella,” he promised. “We’ve got skill, training, and surprise on our side. It will be over very soon. If I didn’t truly believe that, I would be down there now — and you’d be here, chained to a tree or something along those lines.”

“Alice is so small,” I moaned.

He chuckled. “That might be a problem . . . if it were possible for someone to catch her.”

Seth started to whimper.

“What’s wrong?” I demanded.

“He’s just angry that he’s stuck here with us. He knows the pack kept him out of the action to protect him. He’s salivating to join them.”

I scowled in Seth’s general direction.

“The newborns have reached the end of the trail — it worked like a charm, Jasper’s a genius — and they’ve caught the scent of the ones in the meadow, so they’re splitting into two groups now, as Alice said,” Edward murmured, his eyes focused on something far away. “Sam’s taking us around to head off the ambush party.” He was so intent on what he was hearing that he used the pack plural.

Suddenly he looked down at me. “Breathe, Bella.”

I struggled to do what he asked. I could hear Seth’s heavy panting just outside the tent wall, and I tried to keep my lungs on the same even pace, so that I wouldn’t hyperventilate.

“The first group is in the clearing. We can hear the fighting.”

My teeth locked together.

He laughed once. “We can hear Emmett — he’s enjoying himself.”

I made myself take another breath with Seth.

“The second group is getting ready — they aren’t paying attention, they haven’t heard us yet.”

Edward growled.

“What?” I gasped.

“They’re talking about you.” His teeth clenched together. “They’re supposed to make sure you don’t escape. . . . Nice move, Leah! Mmm, she’s quite fast,” he murmured in approval. “One of the newborns caught our scent, and Leah took him down before he could even turn. Sam’s helping her finish him off. Paul and Jacob got another one, but the others are on the defensive now. They have no idea what to make of us. Both sides are feinting. . . . No, let Sam lead. Stay out of the way,” he muttered. “Separate them — don’t let them protect each other’s backs.”

Seth whined.

“That’s better, drive them toward the clearing,” Edward approved. His body was shifting unconsciously as he watched, tensing for moves he would have made. His hands still held mine; I twisted my fingers through his. At least he wasn’t down there.

The sudden absence of sound was the only warning.

The deep rush of Seth’s breathing cut off, and — as I’d paced my breaths with his — I noticed.

I stopped breathing, too — too frightened to even make my lungs work as I realized that Edward had frozen into a block of ice beside me.

Oh, no. No. No.

Who had been lost? Theirs or ours? Mine, all mine. What was my loss?

So quickly that I wasn’t exactly sure how it happened, I was on my feet and the tent was collapsing in ragged shreds around me. Had Edward ripped our way out? Why?

I blinked, shocked, into the brilliant light. Seth was all I could see, right beside us, his face only six inches from Edward’s. They stared at each other with absolute concentration for one infinite second. The sun shattered off Edward’s skin and sent sparkles dancing across Seth’s fur.

And then Edward whispered urgently, “Go, Seth!”

The huge wolf wheeled and disappeared into the forest shadows.

Had two entire seconds passed? It felt like hours. I was terrified to the point of nausea by the knowledge that something horrible had gone awry in the clearing. I opened my mouth to demand that Edward take me there, and do it now. They needed him, and they needed me. If I had to bleed to save them, I would do it. I would die to do it, like the third wife. I had no silver dagger in my hand, but I would find a way —

Before I could get the first syllable out, I felt as if I was being flung through the air. But Edward’s hands never let go of me — I was only being moved, so quickly that the sensation was like falling sideways.

I found myself with my back pressed against the sheer cliff face. Edward stood in front of me, holding a posture that I knew at once.

Relief washed through my mind at the same time that my stomach dropped through the soles of my feet.

I’d misunderstood.

Relief — nothing had gone wrong in the clearing.

Horror — the crisis was here.

Edward held a defensive position — half-crouched, his arms extended slightly — that I recognized with sickening certainty. The rock at my back could have been the ancient brick walls of the Italian alley where he had stood between me and the black-cloaked Volturi warriors.

Something was coming for us.

“Who?” I whispered.

The words came through his teeth in a snarl that was louder than I expected. Too loud. It meant that it was far too late to hide. We were trapped, and it didn’t matter who heard his answer.

“Victoria,” he said, spitting the word, making it a curse. “She’s not alone. She crossed my scent, following the newborns in to watch — she never meant to fight with them. She made a spur-of-the-moment decision to find me, guessing that you would be wherever I was. She was right. You were right. It was always Victoria.”

She was close enough that he could hear her thoughts.

Relief again. If it had been the Volturi, we were both dead. But with Victoria, it didn’t have to be both. Edward could survive this. He was a good fighter, as good as Jasper. If she didn’t bring too many others, he could fight his way out, back to his family. Edward was faster than anyone. He could make it.

I was so glad he’d sent Seth away. Of course, there was no one Seth could run to for help. Victoria had timed her decision perfectly. But at least Seth was safe; I couldn’t see the huge sandy wolf in my head when I thought his name — just the gangly fifteen-year-old boy.

Edward’s body shifted — only infinitesimally, but it told me where to look. I stared at the black shadows of the forest.

It was like having my nightmares walk forward to greet me.

Two vampires edged slowly into the small opening of our camp, eyes intent, missing nothing. They glistened like diamonds in the sun.

I could barely look at the blond boy — yes, he was just a boy, though he was muscular and tall, maybe my age when he was changed. His eyes — a more vivid red than I had ever seen before — could not hold mine. Though he was closest to Edward, the nearest danger, I could not watch him.

Because, a few feet to the side and a few feet back, Victoria was staring at me.

Her orange hair was brighter than I’d remembered, more like a flame. There was no wind here, but the fire around her face seemed to shimmer slightly, as if it were alive.

Her eyes were black with thirst. She did not smile, as she always had in my nightmares — her lips were pressed into a tight line. There was a striking feline quality to the way she held her coiled body, a lioness waiting for an opening to spring. Her restless, wild gaze flickered between Edward and me, but never rested on him for more than a half-second. She could not keep her eyes from my face any more than I could keep mine from hers.

Tension rolled off of her, nearly visible in the air. I could feel the desire, the all-consuming passion that held her in its grip. Almost as if I could hear her thoughts, too, I knew what she was thinking.

She was so close to what she wanted — the focus of her whole existence for more than a year now was just so close.

My death.

Her plan was as obvious as it was practical. The big blond boy would attack Edward. As soon as Edward was sufficiently distracted, Victoria would finish me.

It would be quick — she had no time for games here — but it would be thorough. Something that it would be impossible to recover from. Something that even vampire venom could not repair.

She’d have to stop my heart. Perhaps a hand shoved through my chest, crushing it. Something along those lines.

My heart beat furiously, loudly, as if to make her target more obvious.

An immense distance away, from far across the black forest, a wolf’s howl echoed in the still air. With Seth gone, there was no way to interpret the sound.

The blond boy looked at Victoria from the corner of his eye, waiting on her command.

He was young in more ways than one. I guessed from his brilliant crimson irises that he couldn’t have been a vampire for very long. He would be strong, but inept. Edward would know how to fight him. Edward would survive.

Victoria jerked her chin toward Edward, wordlessly ordering the boy forward.

“Riley,” Edward said in a soft, pleading voice.

The blond boy froze, his red eyes widening.

“She’s lying to you, Riley,” Edward told him. “Listen to me. She’s lying to you just like she lied to the others who are dying now in the clearing. You know that she’s lied to them, that she had you lie to them, that neither of you were ever going to help them. Is it so hard to believe that she’s lied to you, too?”

Confusion swept across Riley’s face.

Edward shifted a few inches to the side, and Riley automatically compensated with an adjustment of his own.

“She doesn’t love you, Riley.” Edward’s soft voice was compelling, almost hypnotic. “She never has. She loved someone named James, and you’re no more than a tool to her.”

When he said James’s name, Victoria’s lips pulled back in a teeth-baring grimace. Her eyes stayed locked on me.

Riley cast a frantic glance in her direction.

“Riley?” Edward said.

Riley automatically refocused on Edward.

“She knows that I will kill you, Riley. She wants you to die so that she doesn’t have to keep up the pretense anymore. Yes — you’ve seen that, haven’t you? You’ve read the reluctance in her eyes, suspected a false note in her promises. You were right. She’s never wanted you. Every kiss, every touch was a lie.”

Edward moved again, moved a few inches toward the boy, a few inches away from me.

Victoria’s gaze zeroed in on the gap between us. It would take her less than a second to kill me — she only needed the tiniest margin of opportunity.

Slower this time, Riley repositioned himself.

“You don’t have to die,” Edward promised, his eyes holding the boy’s. “There are other ways to live than the way she’s shown you. It’s not all lies and blood, Riley. You can walk away right now. You don’t have to die for her lies.”

Edward slid his feet forward and to the side. There was a foot of space between us now. Riley circled too far, overcompensating this time. Victoria leaned forward onto the balls of her feet.

“Last chance, Riley,” Edward whispered.

Riley’s face was desperate as he looked to Victoria for answers.

“He’s the liar, Riley,” Victoria said, and my mouth fell open in shock at the sound of her voice. “I told you about their mind tricks. You know I love only you.”

25. MIRROR

I FORCED MY EYES — FROZEN WIDE OPEN WITH SHOCK — to move, so that I could not examine too closely the oval object wrapped in tendrils of shivering, fiery hair.

Edward was in motion again. Swift and coolly businesslike, he dismembered the headless corpse.

I could not go to him — I could not make my feet respond; they were bolted to the stone beneath them. But I scrutinized his every action minutely, looking for any evidence that he had been harmed. My heart slowed to a healthier rhythm when I found nothing. He was lithe and graceful as ever. I couldn’t even see a tear in his clothes.

He did not look at me — where I stood frozen to the cliff wall, horrified — while he piled the quivering, twitching limbs and then covered them with dry pine needles. He still did not meet my shocked gaze as he darted into the forest after Seth.

I didn’t have time to recover before both he and Seth were back, Edward with his arms full of Riley. Seth was carrying a large chunk — the torso — in his mouth. They added their burden to the pile, and Edward pulled a silver rectangle from his pocket. He flipped open the butane lighter and held the flame to the dry tinder. It caught at once; long tongues of orange fire licked rapidly across the pyre.

“Get every piece,” Edward said in a low aside to Seth.

Together, the vampire and the werewolf scoured the campsite, occasionally tossing small lumps of white stone into the blaze. Seth handled the pieces with his teeth. My brain wasn’t working well enough for me to understand why he didn’t change back to a form with hands.

Edward kept his eyes on his work.

And then they were done, and the raging fire was sending a pillar of choking purple toward the sky. The thick smoke curled up slowly, looking more solid than it should; it smelled like burning incense, and the scent was uncomfortable. It was heavy, too strong.

Seth made that snickering sound again, deep in his chest.

A smile flickered across Edward’s tense face.

Edward stretched out his arm, his hand curled into a fist. Seth grinned, revealing the long row of dagger teeth, and bumped his nose against Edward’s hand.

“Nice teamwork,” Edward murmured.

Seth coughed a laugh.

Then Edward took a deep breath, and turned slowly to face me.

I did not understand his expression. His eyes were as wary as if I were another enemy — more than wary, they were afraid. Yet he’d shown no fear at all when he’d faced Victoria and Riley. . . . My mind was stuck, stunned and useless as my body. I stared at him, bewildered.

“Bella, love,” he said in his softest tone, walking toward me with exaggerated slowness, his hands held up, palms forward. Dazed as I was, it reminded me oddly of a suspect approaching a policeman, showing that he wasn’t armed. . . .

“Bella, can you drop the rock, please? Carefully. Don’t hurt yourself.”

I’d forgotten all about my crude weapon, though I realized now that I was grasping it so hard that my knuckle was screaming in protest. Was it rebroken? Carlisle would put me in a cast for sure this time.

Edward hesitated a few feet from me, his hands still in the air, his eyes still fearful.

It took me a few long seconds to remember how to move my fingers. Then the rock clattered to the ground, while my hand stayed frozen in the same position.

Edward relaxed slightly when my hands were empty, but came no closer.

“You don’t have to be afraid, Bella,” Edward murmured. “You’re safe. I won’t hurt you.”

The mystifying promise only confused me further. I stared at him like an imbecile, trying to understand.

“It’s going to be all right, Bella. I know you’re frightened now, but it’s over. No one is going to hurt you. I won’t touch you. I won’t hurt you,” he said again.

My eyes blinked furiously, and I found my voice. “Why do you keep saying that?”

I took an unsteady step toward him, and he leaned away from my advance.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered. “What do you mean?”

“Are you . . .” His golden eyes were suddenly as confused as I felt. “Aren’t you afraid of me?”

“Afraid of you? Why?”

I staggered forward another step, and then tripped over something — my own feet probably. Edward caught me, and I buried my face in his chest and started to sob.

“Bella, Bella, I’m so sorry. It’s over, it’s over.”

“I’m fine,” I gasped. “I’m okay. I’m just. Freaking out. Give me. A minute.”

His arms tightened around me. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured again and again.

I clung to him until I could breathe, and then I was kissing him — his chest, his shoulder, his neck — every part of him that I could reach. Slowly, my brain started to work again.

“Are you okay?” I demanded between kisses. “Did she hurt you at all?”

“I am absolutely fine,” he promised, burying his face in my hair.

“Seth?”

Edward chuckled. “More than fine. Very pleased with himself, in fact.”

“The others? Alice, Esme? The wolves?

“All fine. It’s over there, too. It went just as smoothly as I promised. We got the worst of it here.”

I let myself absorb that for a moment, let it sink in and settle in my head.

My family and my friends were safe. Victoria was never coming after me again. It was over.

We were all going to be fine.

But I couldn’t completely take in the good news while I was still so confused.

“Tell me why,” I insisted. “Why did you think I would be afraid of you?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, apologizing yet again — for what? I had no idea. “So sorry. I didn’t want you to see that. See me like that. I know I must have terrified you.”

I had to think about that for another minute, about the hesitant way he’d approached me, his hands in the air. Like I was going to run if he moved too fast. . . .

“Seriously?” I finally asked. “You . . . what? Thought you’d scared me off?” I snorted. Snorting was good; a voice couldn’t tremble or break during a snort. It sounded impressively offhand.

He put his hand under my chin and tilted my head back to read my face.

“Bella, I just” — he hesitated and then forced the words out — “I just beheaded and dismembered a sentient creature not twenty yards from you. That doesn’t bother you?”

He frowned at me.

I shrugged. Shrugging was good, too. Very blasé. “Not really. I was only afraid that you and Seth were going to get hurt. I wanted to help, but there’s only so much I can do. . . .”

His suddenly livid expression made my voice fade out.

“Yes,” he said, his tone clipped. “Your little stunt with the rock. You know that you nearly gave me a heart attack? Not the easiest thing to do, that.”

His furious glower made it hard to answer.

“I wanted to help . . . Seth was hurt. . . .”

“Seth was only feigning that he was hurt, Bella. It was a trick. And then you . . . !” He shook his head, unable to finish. “Seth couldn’t see what you were doing, so I had to step in. Seth’s a bit disgruntled that he can’t claim a single-handed defeat now.”

“Seth was . . . faking?”

Edward nodded sternly.

“Oh.”

We both looked at Seth, who was studiously ignoring us, watching the flames. Smugness radiated from every hair in his fur.

“Well, I didn’t know that,” I said, on the offense now. “And it’s not easy being the only helpless person around. Just you wait till I’m a vampire! I’m not going to be sitting on the sidelines next time.”

A dozen emotions flitted across his face before he settled on being amused. “Next time? Did you anticipate another war soon?”

“With my luck? Who knows?”

He rolled his eyes, but I could see that he was flying — the relief was making us both lightheaded. It was over.

Or . . . was it?

“Hold on. Didn’t you say something before — ?” I flinched, remembering what exactly it had been before — what was I going to say to Jacob? My splintered heart throbbed out a painful, aching beat. It was hard to believe, almost impossible, but the hardest part of this day was not behind me — and then I soldiered on. “About a complication? And Alice, needing to nail down the schedule for Sam. You said it was going to be close. What was going to be close?”

Edward’s eyes flickered back to Seth, and they exchanged a loaded glance.

“Well?” I asked.

“It’s nothing, really,” Edward said quickly. “But we do need to be on our way. . . .”

He started to pull me into place on his back, but I stiffened and drew away.

“Define nothing.”

Edward took my face between his palms. “We only have a minute, so don’t panic, all right? I told you that you had no reason to be afraid. Trust me on that, please?”

I nodded, trying to hide the sudden terror — how much more could I handle before I collapsed? “No reason to be afraid. Got it.”

He pursed his lips for a second, deciding what to say. And then he glanced abruptly at Seth, as if the wolf had called him.

“What’s she doing?” Edward asked.

Seth whined; it was an anxious, uneasy sound. It made the hair on the back of my neck rise.

Everything was dead silent for one endless second.

And then Edward gasped, “No!” and one of his hands flew out as if to grab something that I couldn’t see. “Don’t —!”

A spasm rocked through Seth’s body, and a howl, blistering with agony, ripped from his lungs.

Edward fell to his knees at the exact same moment, gripping the sides of his head with two hands, his face furrowed in pain.

I screamed once in bewildered terror, and dropped to my knees beside him. Stupidly, I tried to pull his hands from his face; my palms, clammy with sweat, slid off his marble skin.

“Edward! Edward!”

His eyes focused on me; with obvious effort, he pulled his clenched teeth apart.

“It’s okay. We’re going to be fine. It’s —” He broke off, and winced again.

“What’s happening?” I cried out while Seth howled in anguish.

“We’re fine. We’re going to be okay,” Edward gasped. “Sam — help him —”

And I realized in that instant, when he said Sam’s name, that he was not speaking of himself and Seth. No unseen force was attacking them. This time, the crisis was not here.

He was using the pack plural.

I’d burned through all my adrenaline. My body had nothing left. I sagged, and Edward caught me before I could hit the rocks. He sprang to his feet, me in his arms.

“Seth!” Edward shouted.

Seth was crouched, still tensed in agony, looking as if he meant to launch himself into the forest.

“No!” Edward ordered. “You go straight home. Now. As fast as you can!”

Seth whimpered, shaking his great head from side to side.

“Seth. Trust me.”

The huge wolf stared into Edward’s agonized eyes for one long second, and then he straightened up and flew into the trees, disappearing like a ghost.

Edward cradled me tightly against his chest, and then we were also hurtling through the shadowy forest, taking a different path than the wolf.

“Edward.” I fought to force the words through my constricted throat. “What happened, Edward? What happened to Sam? Where are we going? What’s happening?”

“We have to go back to the clearing,” he told me in a low voice. “We knew there was a good probability of this happening. Earlier this morning, Alice saw it and passed it through Sam to Seth. The Volturi decided it was time to intercede.”

The Volturi.

Too much. My mind refused to make sense of the words, pretended it couldn’t understand.

The trees jolted past us. He was running downhill so fast that it felt as if we were plummeting, falling out of control.

“Don’t panic. They aren’t coming for us. It’s just the normal contingent of the guard that usually cleans up this kind of mess. Nothing momentous, they’re merely doing their job. Of course, they seem to have timed their arrival very carefully. Which leads me to believe that no one in Italy would mourn if these newborns had reduced the size of the Cullen family.” The words came through his teeth, hard and bleak. “I’ll know for sure what they were thinking when they get to the clearing.”

“Is that why we’re going back?” I whispered. Could I handle this? Images of flowing black robes crept into my unwilling mind, and I flinched away from them. I was close to a breaking point.

“It’s part of the reason. Mostly, it will be safer for us to present a united front at this point. They have no reason to harass us, but . . . Jane’s with them. If she thought we were alone somewhere away from the others, it might tempt her. Like Victoria, Jane will probably guess that I’m with you. Demetri, of course, is with her. He could find me, if Jane asked him to.”

I didn’t want to think that name. I didn’t want to see that blindingly exquisite, childlike face in my head. A strange sound came out of my throat.

“Shh, Bella, shh. It’s all going to be fine. Alice can see that.”

Alice could see? But . . . then where were the wolves? Where was the pack?

“The pack?”

“They had to leave quickly. The Volturi do not honor truces with werewolves.”

I could hear my breathing get faster, but I couldn’t control it. I started to gasp.

“I swear they will be fine,” Edward promised me. “The Volturi won’t recognize the scent — they won’t realize the wolves are here; this isn’t a species they are familiar with. The pack will be fine.”

I couldn’t process his explanation. My concentration was ripped to shreds by my fears. We’re going to be fine, he had said before . . . and Seth, howling in agony . . . Edward had avoided my first question, distracted me with the Volturi. . . .

I was very close to the edge — just clinging by my fingertips.

The trees were a racing blur that flowed around him like jade waters.

“What happened?” I whispered again. “Before. When Seth was howling? When you were hurt?”

Edward hesitated.

“Edward! Tell me!”

“It was all over,” he whispered. I could barely hear him over the wind his speed created. “The wolves didn’t count their half . . . they thought they had them all. Of course, Alice couldn’t see. . . .”

“What happened?!”

“One of the newborns was hiding. . . . Leah found him — she was being stupid, cocky, trying to prove something. She engaged him alone. . . .”

“Leah,” I repeated, and I was too weak to feel shame for the relief that flooded through me. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Leah wasn’t hurt,” Edward mumbled.

I stared at him for a long second.

Sam — help him — Edward had gasped. Him, not her.

“We’re almost there,” Edward said, and he stared at a fixed point in the sky.

Automatically, my eyes followed his. There was a dark purple cloud hanging low over the trees. A cloud? But it was so abnormally sunny. . . . No, not a cloud — I recognized the thick column of smoke, just like the one at our campsite.

“Edward,” I said, my voice nearly inaudible. “Edward, someone got hurt.”

I’d heard Seth’s agony, seen the torture in Edward’s face.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Who?” I asked, though, of course, I already knew the answer.

Of course I did. Of course.

The trees were slowing around us as we came to our destination.

It took him a long moment to answer me.

“Jacob,” he said.

I was able to nod once.

“Of course,” I whispered.

And then I slipped off the edge I was clinging to inside my head.

Everything went black.

I was first aware of the cool hands touching me. More than one pair of hands. Arms holding me, a palm curved to fit my cheek, fingers stroking my forehead, and more fingers pressed lightly into my wrist.

Then I was aware of the voices. They were just a humming at first, and then they grew in volume and clarity like someone was turning up a radio.

“Carlisle — it’s been five minutes.” Edward’s voice, anxious.

“She’ll come around when she’s ready, Edward.” Carlisle’s voice, always calm and sure. “She’s had too much to deal with today. Let her mind protect itself.”

But my mind was not protected. It was trapped in the knowledge that had not left me, even in unconsciousness — the pain that was part of the blackness.

I felt totally disconnected from my body. Like I was caged in some small corner of my head, no longer at the controls. But I couldn’t do anything about it. I couldn’t think. The agony was too strong for that. There was no escape from it.

Jacob.

Jacob.

No, no, no, no, no . . .

“Alice, how long do we have?” Edward demanded, his voice still tense; Carlisle’s soothing words had not helped.

From farther away, Alice’s voice. It was brightly chipper. “Another five minutes. And Bella will open her eyes in thirty-seven seconds. I wouldn’t doubt that she can hear us now.”

“Bella, honey?” This was Esme’s soft, comforting voice. “Can you hear me? You’re safe now, dear.”

Yes, I was safe. Did that really matter?

Then cool lips were at my ear, and Edward was speaking the words that allowed me to escape from the torture that had me caged inside my own head.

“He’s going to live, Bella. Jacob Black is healing as I speak. He’ll be fine.”

As the pain and dread eased, I found my way back to my body. My eyelids fluttered.

“Oh, Bella,” Edward sighed in relief, and his lips touched mine.

“Edward,” I whispered.

“Yes, I’m here.”

I got my lids to open, and I stared into warm gold.

“Jacob is okay?” I asked.

“Yes,” he promised.

I watched his eyes carefully for some sign that he was placating me, but they were perfectly clear.

“I examined him myself,” Carlisle said then; I turned my head to find his face, only a few feet away. Carlisle’s expression was serious and reassuring at the same time. It was impossible to doubt him. “His life is not in any danger. He was healing at an incredible rate, though his injuries were extensive enough that it will still be a few days before he is back to normal, even if the rate of repair holds steady. As soon as we’re done here, I will do what I can to help him. Sam is trying to get him to phase back to his human form. That will make treating him easier.” Carlisle smiled slightly. “I’ve never been to veterinarian school.”

“What happened to him?” I whispered. “How bad are his injuries?”

Carlisle’s face was serious again. “Another wolf was in trouble —”

“Leah,” I breathed.

“Yes. He knocked her out of the way, but he didn’t have time to defend himself. The newborn got his arms around him. Most of the bones on the right half of his body were shattered.”

I flinched.

26. ETHICS

THE COUNTER IN ALICE’S BATHROOM WAS COVERED WITH a thousand different products, all claiming to beautify a person’s surface. Since everyone in this house was both perfect and impermeable, I could only assume that she’d bought most of these things with me in mind. I read the labels numbly, struck by the waste.

I was careful never to look in the long mirror.

Alice combed through my hair with a slow, rhythmic motion.

“That’s enough, Alice,” I said tonelessly. “I want to go back to La Push.”

How many hours had I waited for Charlie to finally leave Billy’s house so that I could see Jacob? Each minute, not knowing if Jacob was still breathing or not, had seemed like ten lifetimes. And then, when at last I’d been allowed to go, to see for myself that Jacob was alive, the time had gone so quickly. I felt like I’d barely caught my breath before Alice was calling Edward, insisting that I keep up this ridiculous sleepover façade. It seemed so insignificant. . . .

“Jacob’s still unconscious,” Alice answered. “Carlisle or Edward will call when he’s awake. Anyway, you need to go see Charlie. He was there at Billy’s house, he saw that Carlisle and Edward are back in from their trip, and he’s bound to be suspicious when you get home.”

I already had my story memorized and corroborated. “I don’t care. I want to be there when Jacob wakes up.”

“You need to think of Charlie now. You’ve had a long day — sorry, I know that doesn’t begin to cover it — but that doesn’t mean that you can shirk your responsibilities.” Her voice was serious, almost chiding. “It’s more important now than ever that Charlie stays safely in the dark. Play your role first, Bella, and then you can do what you want second. Part of being a Cullen is being meticulously responsible.”

Of course she was right. And if not for this same reason — a reason that was more powerful than all my fear and pain and guilt — Carlisle would never have been able to talk me into leaving Jacob’s side, unconscious or not.

“Go home,” Alice ordered. “Talk to Charlie. Flesh out your alibi. Keep him safe.”

I stood, and the blood flowed down to my feet, stinging like the pricks of a thousand needles. I’d been sitting still for a long time.

“That dress is adorable on you,” Alice cooed.

“Huh? Oh. Er — thanks again for the clothes,” I mumbled out of courtesy rather than real gratitude.

“You need the evidence,” Alice said, her eyes innocent and wide. “What’s a shopping trip without a new outfit? It’s very flattering, if I do say so myself.”

I blinked, unable to remember what she’d dressed me in. I couldn’t keep my thoughts from skittering away every few seconds, insects running from the light. . . .

“Jacob is fine, Bella,” Alice said, easily interpreting my preoccupation. “There’s no hurry. If you realized how much extra morphine Carlisle had to give him — what with his temperature burning it off so quickly — you would know that he’s going to be out for a while.”

At least he wasn’t in any pain. Not yet.

“Is there anything you want to talk about before you leave?” Alice asked sympathetically. “You must be more than a little traumatized.”

I knew what she was curious about. But I had other questions.

“Will I be like that?” I asked her, my voice subdued. “Like that girl Bree in the meadow?”

There were many things I needed to think of, but I couldn’t seem to get her out of my head, the newborn whose other life was now — abruptly — over. Her face, twisted with desire for my blood, lingered behind my eyelids.

Alice stroked my arm. “Everyone is different. But something like that, yes.”

I was very still, trying to imagine.

“It passes,” she promised.

“How soon?”

She shrugged. “A few years, maybe less. It might be different for you. I’ve never seen anyone go through this who’s chosen it beforehand. It should be interesting to see how that affects you.”

“Interesting,” I repeated.

“We’ll keep you out of trouble.”

“I know that. I trust you.” My voice was monotone, dead.

Alice’s forehead puckered. “If you’re worried about Carlisle and Edward, I’m sure they’ll be fine. I believe Sam is beginning to trust us . . . well, to trust Carlisle, at least. It’s a good thing, too. I imagine the atmosphere got a little tense when Carlisle had to rebreak the fractures —”

“Please, Alice.”

“Sorry.”

I took a deep breath to steady myself. Jacob had begun healing too quickly, and some of his bones had set wrong. He’d been out cold for the process, but it was still hard to think about.

“Alice, can I ask you a question? About the future?”

She was suddenly wary. “You know I don’t see everything.”

“It’s not that, exactly. But you do see my future, sometimes. Why is that, do you think, when nothing else works on me? Not what Jane can do, or Edward or Aro . . .” My sentence trailed off with my interest level. My curiosity on this point was fleeting, heavily overshadowed by more pressing emotions.

Alice, however, found the question very interesting. “Jasper, too, Bella — his talent works on your body just as well as it does on anyone else’s. That’s the difference, do you see it? Jasper’s abilities affect the body physically. He really does calm your system down, or excite it. It’s not an illusion. And I see visions of outcomes, not the reasons and thoughts behind the decisions that create them. It’s outside the mind, not an illusion, either; reality, or at least one version of it. But Jane and Edward and Aro and Demetri — they work inside the mind. Jane only creates an illusion of pain. She doesn’t really hurt your body, you only think you feel it. You see, Bella? You are safe inside your mind. No one can reach you there. It’s no wonder that Aro was so curious about your future abilities.”

She watched my face to see if I was following her logic. In truth, her words had all started to run together, the syllables and sounds losing their meaning. I couldn’t concentrate on them. Still, I nodded. Trying to look like I got it.

She wasn’t fooled. She stroked my cheek and murmured, “He’s going to be okay, Bella. I don’t need a vision to know that. Are you ready to go?”

“One more thing. Can I ask you another question about the future? I don’t want specifics, just an overview.”

“I’ll do my best,” she said, doubtful again.

“Can you still see me becoming a vampire?”

“Oh, that’s easy. Sure, I do.”

I nodded slowly.

She examined my face, her eyes unfathomable. “Don’t you know your own mind, Bella?”

“I do. I just wanted to be sure.”

“I’m only as sure as you are, Bella. You know that. If you were to change your mind, what I see would change . . . or disappear, in your case.”

I sighed. “That isn’t going to happen, though.”

She put her arms around me. “I’m sorry. I can’t really empathize. My first memory is of seeing Jasper’s face in my future; I always knew that he was where my life was headed. But I can sympathize. I’m so sorry you have to choose between two good things.”

I shook off her arms. “Don’t feel sorry for me.” There were people who deserved sympathy. I wasn’t one of them. And there wasn’t any choice to make — there was just breaking a good heart to attend to now. “I’ll go deal with Charlie.”

I drove my truck home, where Charlie was waiting just as suspiciously as Alice had expected.

“Hey, Bella. How was your shopping trip?” he greeted me when I walked into the kitchen. He had his arms folded over his chest, his eyes on my face.

“Long,” I said dully. “We just got back.”

Charlie assessed my mood. “I guess you already heard about Jake, then?”

“Yes. The rest of the Cullens beat us home. Esme told us where Carlisle and Edward were.”

“Are you okay?”

“Worried about Jake. As soon as I make dinner, I’m going down to La Push.”

“I told you those motorcycles were dangerous. I hope this makes you realize that I wasn’t kidding around.”

I nodded as I started pulling things out of the fridge. Charlie settled himself in at the table. He seemed to be in a more talkative mood than usual.

“I don’t think you need to worry about Jake too much. Anyone who can cuss with that kind of energy is going to recover.”

“Jake was awake when you saw him?” I asked, spinning to look at him.

“Oh, yeah, he was awake. You should have heard him — actually, it’s better you didn’t. I don’t think there was anyone in La Push who couldn’t hear him. I don’t know where he picked up that vocabulary, but I hope he hasn’t been using that kind of language around you.”

“He had a pretty good excuse today. How did he look?”

“Messed up. His friends carried him in. Good thing they’re big boys, ’cause that kid’s an armful. Carlisle said his right leg is broken, and his right arm. Pretty much the whole right side of his body got crushed when he wrecked that damn bike.” Charlie shook his head. “If I ever hear of you riding again, Bella —”

“No problem there, Dad. You won’t. Do you really think Jake’s okay?”

“Sure, Bella, don’t worry. He was himself enough to tease me.”

“Tease you?” I echoed in shock.

“Yeah — in between insulting somebody’s mother and taking the Lord’s name in vain, he said, ‘Bet you’re glad she loves Cullen instead of me today, huh, Charlie?’”

I turned back to the fridge so that he couldn’t see my face.

“And I couldn’t argue. Edward’s more mature than Jacob when it comes to your safety, I’ll give him that much.”

“Jacob’s plenty mature,” I muttered defensively. “I’m sure this wasn’t his fault.”

“Weird day today,” Charlie mused after a minute. “You know, I don’t put much stock in that superstitious crap, but it was odd. . . . It was like Billy knew something bad was going to happen to Jake. He was nervous as a turkey on Thanksgiving all morning. I don’t think he heard anything I said to him.

“And then, weirder than that — remember back in February and March when we had all that trouble with the wolves?”

I bent down to get a frying pan out of the cupboard, and hid there an extra second or two.

“Yeah,” I mumbled.

“I hope we’re not going to have a problem with that again. This morning, we were out in the boat, and Billy wasn’t paying any attention to me or the fish, when all of a sudden, you could hear wolves yowling in the woods. More than one, and, boy, was it loud. Sounded like they were right there in the village. Weirdest part was, Billy turned the boat around and headed straight back to the harbor like they were calling to him personally. Didn’t even hear me ask what he was doing.

“The noise stopped before we got the boat docked. But all of a sudden Billy was in the biggest hurry not to miss the game, though we had hours still. He was mumbling some nonsense about an earlier showing . . . of a live game? I tell you, Bella, it was odd.

“Well, he found some game he said he wanted to watch, but then he just ignored it. He was on the phone the whole time, calling Sue, and Emily, and your friend Quil’s grandpa. Couldn’t quite make out what he was looking for — he just chatted real casual with them.

“Then the howling started again right outside the house. I’ve never heard anything like it — I had goose bumps on my arms. I asked Billy — had to shout over the noise — if he’d been setting traps in his yard. It sounded like the animal was in serious pain.”

I winced, but Charlie was so caught up in his story that he didn’t notice.

“’Course I forgot all about that till just this minute, ’cause that’s when Jake made it home. One minute it was that wolf yowling, and then you couldn’t hear it anymore — Jake’s cussing drowned it right out. Got a set of lungs on him, that boy does.”

Charlie paused for a minute, his face thoughtful. “Funny that some good should come out of this mess. I didn’t think they were ever going to get over that fool prejudice they have against the Cullens down there. But somebody called Carlisle, and Billy was real grateful when he showed up. I thought we should get Jake up to the hospital, but Billy wanted to keep him home, and Carlisle agreed. I guess Carlisle knows what’s best. Generous of him to sign up for such a long stretch of house calls.”

“And . . .” he paused, as if unwilling to say something. He sighed, and then continued. “And Edward was really . . . nice. He seemed as worried about Jacob as you are — like that was his brother lying there. The look in his eyes . . .” Charlie shook his head. “He’s a decent guy, Bella. I’ll try to remember that. No promises, though.” He grinned at me.

“I won’t hold you to it,” I mumbled.

Charlie stretched his legs and groaned. “It’s nice to be home. You wouldn’t believe how crowded Billy’s little place gets. Seven of Jake’s friends all squished themselves into that little front room — I could hardly breathe. Have you ever noticed how big those Quileute kids all are?”

“Yeah, I have.”

Charlie stared at me, his eyes abruptly more focused. “Really, Bella, Carlisle said Jake will be up and around in no time. Said it looked a lot worse than it was. He’s going to be fine.”

I just nodded.

Jacob had looked so . . . strangely fragile when I’d hurried down to see him as soon as Charlie had left. He’d had braces everywhere — Carlisle said there was no point in plaster, as fast as he was healing. His face had been pale and drawn, deeply unconscious though he was at the time. Breakable. Huge as he was, he’d looked very breakable. Maybe that had just been my imagination, coupled with the knowledge that I was going to have to break him.

If only I could be struck by lightning and be split in two. Preferably painfully. For the first time, giving up being human felt like a true sacrifice. Like it might be too much to lose.

I put Charlie’s dinner on the table next to his elbow and headed for the door.

“Er, Bella? Could you wait just a second?”

“Did I forget something?” I asked, eyeing his plate.

“No, no. I just . . . want to ask a favor.” Charlie frowned and looked at the floor. “Have a seat — this won’t take long.”

I sat across from him, a little confused. I tried to focus. “What do you need, Dad?”

“Here’s the gist of it, Bella.” Charlie flushed. “Maybe I’m just feeling . . . superstitious after hanging out with Billy while he was being so strange all day. But I have this . . . hunch. I feel like . . . I’m going to lose you soon.”

“Don’t be silly, Dad,” I mumbled guiltily. “You want me to go to school, don’t you?”

“Just promise me one thing.”

I was hesitant, ready to rescind. “Okay . . .”

“Will you tell me before you do anything major? Before you run off with him or something?”

“Dad . . . ,” I moaned.

“I’m serious. I won’t kick up a fuss. Just give me some advance notice. Give me a chance to hug you goodbye.”

Cringing mentally, I held up my hand. “This is silly. But, if it makes you happy, . . . I promise.”

“Thanks, Bella,” he said. “I love you, kid.”

“I love you, too, Dad.” I touched his shoulder, and then shoved away from the table. “If you need anything, I’ll be at Billy’s.”

I didn’t look back as I ran out. This was just perfect, just what I needed right now. I grumbled to myself all the way to La Push.

Carlisle’s black Mercedes was not in front of Billy’s house. That was both good and bad. Obviously, I needed to talk to Jacob alone. Yet I still wished I could somehow hold Edward’s hand, like I had before, when Jacob was unconscious. Impossible. But I missed Edward — it had seemed like a very long afternoon alone with Alice. I supposed that made my answer quite obvious. I already knew that I couldn’t live without Edward. That fact wasn’t going to make this any less painful.

I tapped quietly on the front door.

“Come in, Bella,” Billy said. The roar of my truck was easy to recognize.

I let myself in.

“Hey, Billy. Is he awake?” I asked.

“He woke up about a half hour ago, just before the doctor left. Go on in. I think he’s been waiting for you.”

I flinched, and then took a deep breath. “Thanks.”

I hesitated at the door to Jacob’s room, not sure whether to knock. I decided to peek first, hoping — coward that I was — that maybe he’d gone back to sleep. I felt like I could use just a few more minutes.

I opened the door a crack and leaned hesitantly in.

Jacob was waiting for me, his face calm and smooth. The haggard, gaunt look was gone, but only a careful blankness took its place. There was no animation in his dark eyes.

It was hard to look at his face, knowing that I loved him. It made more of a difference than I would have thought. I wondered if it had always been this hard for him, all this time.

Thankfully, someone had covered him with a quilt. It was a relief not to have to see the extent of the damage.

I stepped in and shut the door quietly behind me.

“Hi, Jake,” I murmured.

He didn’t answer at first. He looked at my face for a long moment. Then, with some effort, he rearranged his expression into a slightly mocking smile.

“Yeah, I sort of thought it might be like that.” He sighed. “Today has definitely taken a turn for the worse. First I pick the wrong place, miss the best fight, and Seth gets all the glory. Then Leah has to be an idiot trying to prove she’s as tough as the rest of us and I have to be the idiot who saves her. And now this.” He waved his left hand toward me where I hesitated by the door.

“How are you feeling?” I mumbled. What a stupid question.

“A little stoned. Dr. Fang isn’t sure how much pain medication I need, so he’s going with trial and error. Think he overdid it.”

“But you’re not in pain.”

“No. At least, I can’t feel my injuries,” he said, smiling mockingly again.

I bit my lip. I was never going to get through this. Why didn’t anyone ever try to kill me when I wanted to die?

The wry humor left his face, and his eyes warmed up. His forehead creased, like he was worried.

“How about you?” he asked, sounding really concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” I stared at him. Maybe he had taken too many drugs. “Why?”

“Well, I mean, I was pretty sure that he wouldn’t actually hurt you, but I wasn’t sure how bad it was going to be. I’ve been going a little crazy with worrying about you ever since I woke up. I didn’t know if you were going to be allowed to visit or anything. The suspense was terrible. How did it go? Was he mean to you? I’m sorry if it was bad. I didn’t mean for you to have to go through that alone. I was thinking I’d be there. . . .”

It took me a minute to even understand. He babbled on, looking more and more awkward, until I got what he was saying. Then I hurried to reassure him.

“No, no, Jake! I’m fine. Too fine, really. Of course he wasn’t mean. I wish!”

His eyes widened in what looked like horror. “What?”