Breaking Dawn 2

13. GOOD THING I'VE GOT A STRONG STOMACH CARLISLE AND ROSALIE WERE OFF IN A FLASH, DARTING upstairs. I could hear them debating whether they should warm it up for her. Ugh. I wondered what all house-of-horrors stuff they kept around here. Fridge full of blood, check. What else? Torture chamber? Coffin room? Edward stayed, holding Bella's hand. His face was dead again. He didn't seem to have the energy to keep up even that little hint of hope he'd had before. They stared into each other's eyes, but not in a gooey way. It was like they were having a conversation. Kind of reminded me of Sam and Emily. No, it wasn't gooey, but that only made it harder to watch. I knew what it was like for Leah, having to see that all the time. Having to hear it in Sam's head. Of course we all felt bad for her, we weren't monsters—in that sense, anyway. But I guess we'd blamed her for how she handled it. Lashing out at everyone, trying to make us all as miserable as she was. I would never blame her again. How could anyone help spreading this kind of misery around? How could anyone not try to ease some of the burden by shoving a little piece of it off on someone else? And if it meant that I had to have a pack, how could I blame her for taking my freedom? I would do the same. If there was a way to escape this pain, I'd take it, too. Rosalie darted downstairs after a second, flying through the room like a sharp breeze, stirring up the burning smell. She stopped inside the kitchen, and I heard the creak of a cupboard door. "Not clear, Rosalie," Edward murmured. He rolled his eyes. Bella looked curious, but Edward just shook his head at her. Rosalie blew back through the room and disappeared again. "This was your idea?" Bella whispered, her voice rough as she strained to make it loud enough for me to hear. Forgetting that I could hear just fine. I kind of liked how, a lot of the time, she seemed to forget that I wasn't completely human. I moved closer, so that she wouldn't have to work so hard. "Don't blame me for this one. Your vampire was just picking snide comments out of my head." She smiled a little. "I didn't expect to see you again." "Yeah, me, either," I said. It felt weird just standing here, but the vampires had shoved all the furniture out of the way for the medical setup. I imagined that it didn't bother them—sitting or standing didn't make much difference when you were stone. Wouldn't bother me much, either, except that I was so exhausted. "Edward told me what you had to do. I'm sorry." "S'okay. It was probably only a matter of time till I snapped over something Sam wanted me to do," I lied. "And Seth," she whispered. "He's actually happy to help." "I hate causing you trouble." I laughed once—more a bark than a laugh. She breathed a faint sigh. "I guess that's nothing new, is it?" "No, not really." "You don't have to stay and watch this," she said, barely mouthing the words. I could leave. It was probably a good idea. But if I did, with the way she looked right now, I could be missing the last fifteen minutes of her life. "I don't really have anywhere else to go," I told her, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice. "The wolf thing is a lot less appealing since Leah joined up." "Leah?" she gasped. "You didn't tell her?" I asked Edward. He just shrugged without moving his eyes from her face. I could see it wasn't very exciting news to him, not something worth sharing with the more important events that were going down. Bella didn't take it so lightly. It looked like it was bad news to her. "Why?" she breathed. I didn't want to get into the whole novel-length version. "To keep an eye on Seth." "But Leah hates us," she whispered. Us. Nice. I could see that she was afraid, though. "Leah's not going to bug anyone." But me. "She's in my pack"—I grimaced at the words— "so she follows my lead." Ugh. Bella didn't look convinced. "You're scared of Leah, but you're best buds with the psychopath blonde?" There was a low hiss from the second floor. Cool, she'd heard me. Bella frowned at me. "Don't. Rose…understands." "Yeah," I grunted. "She understands that you're gonna die and she doesn't care, s'Iong as she gets her mutant spawn out of the deal." "Stop being a jerk, Jacob," she whispered. She looked too weak to get mad at. I tried to smile instead. "You say that like it's possible." Bella tried not to smile back for a second, but she couldn't help it in the end; her chalky lips pulled up at the corners. And then Carlisle and the psycho in question were there. Carlisle had a white plastic cup in his hand—the kind with a lid and a bendy straw. Oh—not clear; now I got it. Edward didn't want Bella to have to think about what she was doing any more than necessary. You couldn't see what was in the cup at all. But I could smell it. Carlisle hesitated, the hand with the cup half-extended. Bella eyed it, looking scared again. "We could try another method," Carlisle said quietly. "No," Bella whispered. "No, I'll try this first. We don't have time…" At first I thought she'd finally gotten a clue and was worried about herself, but then her hand fluttered feebly against her stomach. Bella reached out and took the cup from him. Her hand shook a little, and I could hear the sloshing from inside. She tried to prop herself up on one elbow, but she could barely lift her head. A whisper of heat brushed down my spine as I saw how frail she'd gotten in less than a day. Rosalie put her arm under Bella's shoulders, supporting her head, too, like you did with a newborn. Blondie was all about the babies. "Thanks," Bella whispered. Her eyes flickered around at us. Still aware enough to feel self-conscious. If she wasn't so drained, I'd bet she'd've blushed. "Don't mind them," Rosalie murmured. It made me feel awkward. I should've left when Bella'd offered the chance. I didn't belong here, being part of this. I thought about ducking out, but then I realized a move like that would only make this worse for Bella—make it harder for her to go through with it. She'd figure I was too disgusted to stay. Which was almost true. Still. While I wasn't going to claim responsibility for this idea, I didn't want to jinx it, either. Bella lifted the cup to her face and sniffed at the end of the straw. She flinched, and then made a face. "Bella, sweetheart, we can find an easier way," Edward said, holding his hand out for the cup. "Plug your nose," Rosalie suggested. She glared at Edward's hand like she might take a snap at it. I wished she would. I bet Edward wouldn't take that sitting down, and I'd love to see Blondie lose a limb. "No, that's not it. It's just that it—" Bella sucked in a deep breath. "It smells good," she admitted in a tiny voice. I swallowed hard, fighting to keep the disgust off my face. "That's a good thing," Rosalie told Bella eagerly. "That means we're on the right track. Give it a try." Given Blondie's new expression, I was surprised she didn't break into a touchdown dance. Bella shoved the straw between her lips, squeezed her eyes shut, and wrinkled her nose. I could hear the blood slopping around in the cup again as her hand shook. She sipped at it for a second, and then moaned quietly with her eyes still closed. Edward and I stepped forward at the same time. He touched her face. I clenched my hands behind my back. "Bella, love—" "I'm okay," she whispered. She opened her eyes and stared up at him. Her expression was…apologetic. Pleading. Scared. "It tastes good, too." Acid churned in my stomach, threatening to overflow. I ground my teeth together. "That's good," Blondie repeated, still jazzed. 'A good sign." Edward just pressed his hand to her cheek, curling his fingers around the shape of her fragile bones. Bella sighed and put her lips to the straw again. She took a real pull this time. The action wasn't as weak as everything else about her. Like some instinct was taking over. "How's your stomach? Do you feel nauseated?" Carlisle asked. Bella shook her head. "No, I don't feel sick," she whispered. "There's a first, eh?" Rosalie beamed. "Excellent." "I think it's a bit early for that, Rose," Carlisle murmured. Bella gulped another mouthful of blood. Then she flashed a look at Edward. "Does this screw my total?" she whispered. "Or do we start counting after I'm a vampire?" "No one is counting, Bella. In any case, no one died for this." He smiled a lifeless smile. "Your record is still clean." They'd lost me. "I'll explain later," Edward said, so low the words were just a breath. "What?" Bella whispered. "Just talking to myself," he lied smoothly. If he succeeded with this, if Bella lived, Edward wasn't going to be able to get away with so much when her senses were as sharp as his. He'd have to work on the honesty thing. Edward's lips twitched, fighting a smile. Bella chugged a few more ounces, staring past us toward the window. Probably pretending we weren't here. Or maybe just me. No one else in this group would be disgusted by what she was doing. Just the opposite—they were probably having a tough time not ripping the cup away from her. Edward rolled his eyes. Jeez, how did anyone stand living with him? It was really too bad he couldn't hear Bella's thoughts. Then he'd annoy the crap out of her, too, and she'd get tired of him. Edward chuckled once. Bella's eyes flicked to him immediately, and she half-smiled at the humor in his face. I would guess that wasn't something she'd seen in a while. "Something funny?" she breathed. "Jacob," he answered. She looked over with another weary smile for me. "Jake's a crack- up," she agreed. Great, now I was the court jester. "Bada Bing," I mumbled in weak rim-shot impression. She smiled again, and then took another swig from the cup. I flinched when the straw pulled at empty air, making a loud sucking sound. "I did it," she said, sounding pleased. Her voice was clearer—rough, but not a whisper for the first time today. "If I keep this down, Carlisle, will you take the needles out of me?" "As soon as possible," he promised. "Honestly, they aren't doing that much good where they are." Rosalie patted Bella's forehead, and they exchanged a hopeful glance. And anyone could see it—the cup full of human blood had made an immediate difference. Her color was returning—there was a tiny hint of pink in her waxy cheeks. Already she didn't seem to need Rosalie's support so much anymore. Her breathing was easier, and I would swear her heartbeat was stronger, more even. Everything accelerated. That ghost of hope in Edward's eyes had turned into the real thing. "Would you like more?" Rosalie pressed. Bella's shoulders slumped. Edward flashed a glare at Rosalie before he spoke to Bella. "You don't have to drink more right away." "Yeah, I know. But…I want to," she admitted glumly. Rosalie pulled her thin, sharp fingers through Bella's lank hair. "You don't need to be embarrassed about that, Bella. Your body has cravings. We all understand that." Her tone was soothing at first, but then she added harshly, "Anyone who doesn't understand shouldn't be here." Meant for me, obviously, but I wasn't going to let Blondie get to me. I was glad Bella felt better. So what if the means grossed me out? It wasn't like I'd said anything. Carlisle took the cup from Bella's hand. "I'll be right back." Bella stared at me while he disappeared. "Jake, you look awful," she croaked. "Look who's talking." "Seriously—when's the last time you slept?" I thought about that for a second. "Huh. I'm not actually sure." "Aw, Jake. Now I'm messing with your health, too. Don't be stupid." I gritted my teeth. She was allowed to kill herself for a monster, but I wasn't allowed to miss a few nights' sleep to watch her do it? "Get some rest, please," she went on. "There're a few beds upstairs— you're welcome to any of them." The look on Rosalie's face made it clear that I wasn't welcome to one of them. It made me wonder what Sleepless Beauty needed a bed for anyway. Was she that possessive of her props? "Thanks, Bells, but I'd rather sleep on the ground. Away from the stench, you know." She grimaced. "Right." Carlisle was back then, and Bella reached out for the blood, absentminded, like she was thinking of something else. With the same distracted expression, she started sucking it down. She really was looking better. She pulled herself forward, being careful of the tubes, and scooted into a sitting position. Rosalie hovered, her hands ready to catch Bella if she sagged. But Bella didn't need her. Taking deep breaths in between swallows, Bella finished the second cup quickly. "How do you feel now?" Carlisle asked. "Not sick. Sort of hungry…only I'm not sure if I'm hungry or thirsty, you know?" "Carlisle, just look at her," Rosalie murmured, so smug she should have canary feathers on her lips. "This is obviously what her body wants. She should drink more." "She's still human, Rosalie. She needs food, too. Let's give her a little while to see how this affects her, and then maybe we can try some food again. Does anything sound particularly good to you, Bella?" "Eggs," she said immediately, and then she exchanged a look and a smile with Edward. His smile was brittle, but there was more life on his face than before. I blinked then, and almost forgot how to open my eyes again. "Jacob," Edward murmured. "You really should sleep. As Bella said, you're certainly welcome to the accommodations here, though you'd probably be more comfortable outside. Don't worry about anything—I promise I'll find you if there's a need." "Sure, sure," I mumbled. Now that it appeared Bella had a few more hours, I could escape. Go curl up under a tree somewhere. … Far enough away that the smell couldn't reach me. The bloodsucker would wake me up if something went wrong. He owed me. "I do," Edward agreed. I nodded and then put my hand on Bella's. Hers was icy cold. "Feel better," I said. "Thanks, Jacob." She turned her hand over and squeezed mine. I felt the thin band of her wedding ring riding loose on her skinny finger. "Get her a blanket or something," I muttered as I turned for the door. Before I made it, two howls pierced the still morning air. There was no mistaking the urgency of the tone. No misunderstanding this time. "Dammit," I snarled, and I threw myself through the door. I hurled my body off the porch, letting the fire rip me apart midair. There was a sharp tearing sound as my shorts shredded. Crap. Those were the only clothes I had. Didn't matter now. I landed on paws and took off toward the west. What is it? I shouted in my head. Incoming, Seth answered. At least three. Did they split up? I'm running the line back to Seth at the speed of light, Leah promised. I could feel the air huffing through her lungs as she pushed herself to an incredible velocity. The forest whipped around her. So far, no other point of attack. Seth, do not challenge them. Wait for me. They're slowing. Ugh—it's so off not being able to hear them. I think… What? I think they've stopped. Waiting for the rest of the pack? Shh. Feel that? I absorbed his impressions. The faint, soundless shimmer in the air. Someone's phasing? Feels like it, Seth agreed. Leah flew into the small open space where Seth waited. She raked her claws into the dirt, spinning out like a race car. Got your back, bro. They're coming, Seth said nervously. Slow. Walking. Almost there, I told them. I tried to fly like Leah. It felt horrible being separated from Seth and Leah with potential danger closer to their end than mine. Wrong. I should be with them, between them and whatever was coming. Look who's getting all paternal, Leah thought wryly. Head in the game, Leah. Four, Seth decided. Kid had good ears. Three wolves, one man. I made the little clearing then, moving immediately to the point. Seth sighed with relief and then straightened up, already in place at my right shoulder. Leah fell in on my left with a little less enthusiasm. So now I rank under Seth, she grumbled to herself. First come, first served, Seth thought smugly. 'Sides, you were never an Alpha's Third before. Still an upgrade. Under my baby brother is not an upgrade. Shh! I complained. I don't care where you stand. Shut up and get ready. They came into view a few seconds later, walking, as Seth had thought. Jared in the front, human, hands up. Paul and Quil and Collin on four legs behind him. There was no aggression in their postures. They hung back behind Jared, ears up, alert but calm. But…it was weird that Sam would send Collin rather than Embry. That wasn't what I would do if I were sending a diplomacy party into enemy territory. I wouldn't send a kid. I'd send the experienced fighter. A diversion? Leah thought. Were Sam, Embry, and Brady making a move alone? That didn't seem likely. Want me to check? I can run the line and be back in two minutes. Should I warn the Cullens? Seth wondered. What if the point was to divide us? I asked. The Cullens know something's up. They're ready. Sam wouldn't be so stupid…, Leah whispered, fear jagged in her mind. She was imagining Sam attacking the Cullens with only the two others beside him. No, he wouldn't, I assured her, though I felt a little sick at the image in her head, too. All the while, Jared and the three wolves stared at us, waiting. It was eerie not to hear what Quil and Paul and Collin were saying to one another. Their expressions were blank—unreadable. Jared cleared his throat, and then he nodded to me. "White flag of truce, Jake. We're here to talk." Think it's true? Seth asked. Makes sense, but… Yeah, Leah agreed. But. We didn't relax. Jared frowned. "It would be easier to talk if I could hear you, too." I stared him down. I wasn't going to phase back until I felt better about this situation. Until it made sense. Why Collin? That was the part that had me most worried. "Okay. I guess I'll just talk, then," Jared said. "Jake, we want you to come back." Quil let out a soft whine behind him. Seconding the statement. "You've torn our family apart. It's not meant to be this way." I wasn't exactly in disagreement with that, but it was hardly the point. There were a few unresolved differences of opinion between me and Sam at the moment. "We know that you feel…strongly about the situation with the Cullens. We know that's a problem. But this is an overreaction." Seth growled. Overreaction? And attacking our allies without warning isn't? Seth, you ever heard of a poker face? Cool it. Sorry. Jared's eyes flickered to Seth and back to me. "Sam is illing to take this slowly, Jacob. He's calmed down, talked to the other Elders. They've decided that immediate action is in no one's best interest at this point." Translation: They've already lost the element of surprise, Leah thought. It was weird how distinct our joint thinking was. The pack was already Sam's pack, was already "them" to us. Something outside and other. It was especially weird to have Leah thinking that way—to have her be a solid part of the "us." "Billy and Sue agree with you, Jacob, that we can wait for Bella…to be separated from the problem. Killing her is not something any of us feel comfortable with." Though I'd just given Seth crap for it, I couldn't hold back a small snarl of my own. So they didn't quite feel comfortable with murder, huh? Jared raised his hands again. "Easy, Jake. You know what I mean. The point is, we're going to wait and reassess the situation. Decide later if there's a problem with the … thing." Ha, Leah thought. What a load. You don't buy it? I know what they're thinking, fake. What Sam's thinking. They're betting on Bella dying anyway. And then they figure you'll be so mad… That I'll lead the attack myself. My ears pressed against my skull. What Leah was guessing sounded pretty spot-on. And very possible, too. When…if that thing killed Bella, it was going to be easy to forget how I felt about Carlisle's family right now. They would probably look like nemies—like no more than bloodsucking leeches—to me all over again. I'll remind you, Seth whispered. I know you will, kid. Question is whether I'll listen to you. "Jake?" Jared asked. I huffed a sigh. Leah, make a circuit—just to be sure. I'm going to have to talk to him, and I want to be positive there isn't anything else going on while I'm phased. Give me a break. Jacob. You can phase in front of me. Despite my best efforts, I've seen you naked before—doesn't do much for me, so no worries. I'm not trying to protect the innocence of your eyes, I'm trying to protect our backs. Get out of here. Leah snorted once and then launched herself into the forest. I could hear her claws cutting into the soil, pushing her faster. Nudity was an inconvenient but unavoidable part of pack life. We'd all thought nothing of it before Leah came along. Then it got awkward. Leah had average control when it came to her temper—it took her the usual length of time to stop exploding out of her clothes every time she got pissed. We'd all caught a glimpse. And it wasn't like she wasn't worth looking at; it was just that it was so not worth it when she caught you thinking about it later. Jared and the others were staring at the place where she'd disappeared into the brush with wary expressions. "Where's she going?" Jared asked. I ignored him, closing my eyes and pulling myself together again. It felt like the air was trembling around me, shaking out from me in small waves. I lifted myself up on my hind legs, catching the moment just right so that I was fully upright as I shimmered down into my human self. "Oh," Jared said. "Hey, Jake." "Hey, Jared." "Thanks for talking to me." "Yeah." "We want you to come back, man." Quil whined again. "I don't know if it's that easy, Jared." "Come home," he said, leaning forward. Pleading. "We can sort this out. You don't belong here. Let Seth and Leah come home, too." I laughed. "Right. Like I haven't been begging them to do that from hour one." Seth snorted behind me. Jared assessed that, his eyes cautious again. "So, what now, then?" I thought that over for a minute while he waited. "I don't know. But I'm not sure things could just go back to normal anyway, Jared. I don't know how it works—it doesn't feel like I can just turn this Alpha thing off and on as the mood strikes. It feels sort of permanent." "You still belong with us." I raised my eyebrows. "Two Alphas can't belong in the same place, Jared. Remember how close it got last night? The instinct is too competitive." "So are you all just going to hang out with the parasites for the rest of your lives?" he demanded. "You don't have a home here. You're already out of clothes," he pointed out. "You gonna stay wolf all the time? You know Leah doesn't like eating that way." "Leah can do whatever she wants when she gets hungry. She's here by her own choice. I'm not telling anyone what to do." Jared sighed. "Sam is sorry about what he did to you." I nodded. "I'm not angry anymore." "But?" "But I'm not coming back, not now. We're going to wait and see how it plays out, too. And we're going to watch out for the Cullens for as long as that seems necessary. Because, despite what you think, this isn't just about Bella. We're protecting those who should be protected. And that applies to the Cullens, too." At least a fair number of them, anyway. Seth yelped softly in agreement. Jared frowned. "I guess there's nothing I can say to you, then." "Not now. We'll see how things go." Jared turned to face Seth, concentrating on him now, separate from me. "Sue asked me to tell you—no, to beg you—to come home. She's brokenhearted, Seth. All alone. I don't know how you and Leah can do this to her. Abandon her this way, when your dad just barely died—" Seth whimpered. "Ease up, Jared," I warned. "Just letting him know how it is." I snorted. "Right." Sue was tougher than anyone I knew. Tougher than my dad, tougher than me. Tough enough to play on her kids' sympathies if that's what it took to get hem home. But it wasn't fair to work Seth that way. "Sue's known about this for how many hours now? And most of that time spent with Billy and Old Quil and Sam? Yeah, I'm sure she's just perishing of loneliness. 'Course you're free to go if you want, Seth. You know that." Seth sniffed. Then, a second later, he cocked an ear to the north. Leah must be close. Jeez, she was fast. Two beats, and Leah skidded to a stop in the brush a few yards away. She trotted in, taking the point in front of Seth. She kept her nose in the air, very obviously not looking in my direction. I appreciated that. "Leah?" Jared asked. She met his gaze, her muzzle pulling back a little over her teeth. Jared didn't seem surprised by her hostility. "Leah, you know you don't want to be here." She snarled at him. I gave her a warning glance she didn't see. Seth whined and nudged her with his shoulder. "Sorry," Jared said. "Guess I shouldn't assume. But you don't have any ties to the bloodsuckers." Leah very deliberately looked at her brother and then at me. "So you want to watch out for Seth, I get that," Jared said. His eyes touched my face and then went back to hers. Probably wondering about that second look—just like I was. "But Jake's not going to let anything happen to him, and he's not afraid to be here." Jared made a face. "Anyway, please, Leah. We want you back. Sam wants you back." Leah's tail twitched. "Sam told me to beg. He told me to literally get down n my knees if I have to. He wants you home, Lee-lee, where you belong." I saw Leah flinch when Jared used Sam's old nickname for her. And then, when he added those last three words, her hackles rose and she was yowling a long stream of snarls through her teeth. I didn't have to be in her head to hear the cussing-out she was giving him, and neither did he. You could almost hear the exact words she was using. I waited till she was done. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that Leah belongs wherever she wants to be." Leah growled, but, as she was glaring at Jared, I figured it was in agreement. "Look, Jared, we're still family, okay? We'll get past the feud, but, until we do, you probably ought to stick to your land. Just so there aren't misunderstandings. Nobody wants a family brawl, right? Sam doesn't want that, either, does he?" "Of course, not," Jared snapped. "We'll stick to our land. But where is your land, Jacob? Is it vampire land?" "No, Jared. Homeless at the moment. But don't worry—this isn't going to last forever." I had to take a breath. "There's not that much time…left. Okay? Then the Cullens will probably go, and Seth and Leah will come home." Leah and Seth whined together, their noses turning my direction in synchronization. "And what about you, Jake?" "Back to the forest, I think. I can't really stick around La Push. Two Alphas means too much tension. 'Sides, I was headed that way anyway. Before this mess." "What if we need to talk?" Jared asked. "Howl—but watch the line, 'kay? We'll come to you. And Sam doesn't need to send so many. We aren't looking for a fight." Jared scowled, but nodded. He didn't like me setting conditions for Sam. "See you around, Jake. Or not." He waved halfheartedly. "Wait, Jared. Is Embry okay?" Surprise crossed his face. "Embry? Sure, he's fine. Why?" "Just wondering why Sam sent Collin." I watched his reaction, still suspicious that something was going on. I saw knowledge flash in his eyes, but it didn't look like the kind I was expecting. "That's not really your business anymore, Jake." "Guess not. Just curious." I saw a twitch from the corner of my eye, but I didn't acknowledge it, because I didn't want to give Quil away. He was reacting to the subject. "I'll let Sam know about your…instructions. Goodbye, Jacob." I sighed. "Yeah. Bye, Jared. Hey, tell my dad that I'm okay, will you? And that I'm sorry, and that I love him." "I'll pass that along." "Thanks." "C'mon, guys," Jared said. He turned away from us, heading out of sight to phase because Leah was here. Paul and Collin were right on his heels, but Quil hesitated. He yelped softly, and I took a step toward him. "Yeah, I miss you, too, bro." Quil jogged over to me, his head hanging down morosely. I patted his shoulder. "It'll be okay." He whined. "Tell Embry I miss having you two on my flanks." He nodded and then pressed his nose to my forehead. Leah snorted. Quil looked up, but not at her. He looked ack over his shoulder at where the others had gone. "Yeah, go home," I told him. Quil yelped again and then took off after the others. I'd bet Jared wasn't waiting super-patiently. As soon as he was gone, I pulled the warmth from the center of my body and let it surge through my limbs. In a flash of heat, I was on four legs again. Thought you were going to make out with him, Leah snickered. I ignored her. Was that okay? I asked them. It worried me, speaking for them that way, when I couldn't hear exactly what they were thinking. I didn't want to assume anything. I didn't want to be like Jared that way. Did I say anything you didn't want me to? Did I not say something I should have? You did great, Jake! Seth encouraged. You could have hit Jared, Leah thought. I wouldn't have minded that. I guess we know why Embry wasn't allowed to come, Seth thought. I didn't understand. Not allowed? Jake, didya see Quil? He's pretty torn up, right? I'd put ten to one that Embry's even more upset. And Embry doesn't have a Claire. There's no way Quil can just pick up and walk away from La Push. Embry might. So Sam's not going to take any chances on him getting convinced to jump ship. He doesn't want our pack any bigger than it is now. Really? You think? I doubt Embry would mind shredding some Cullen. But he's your best friend, Jake. He and Quil would rather stand behind you than face you in a fight. Well, I'm glad Sam kept him home, then. This pack is big enough. I sighed. Okay, then. So we're good, for now. Seth, you mind keeping an eye on things for a while? Leah and I both need to crash. This felt on the level, but who knows? Maybe it was a distraction. I wasn't always so paranoid, but I remembered the feel of Sam's commitment. The total one-track focus on destroying the danger he saw. Would he take advantage of the fact that he could lie to us now? No problem! Seth was only too eager to do whatever he could. You want me to explain to the Cullen? They're probably still kinda tense. I got it. I want to check things out anyway. They caught the whir of images from my fried brain. Seth whimpered in surprise. Ew. Leah whipped her head back and forth like she was trying to shake the image out of her mind. That is easily the freakin' grossest thing I've heard in my life. Yuck. If there was anything in my stomach, it would be coming back. They are vampires, I guess, Seth allowed after a minute, compensating for Leah's reaction. I mean, it makes sense. And if it helps Bella, it's a good thing, right? Both Leah and I stared at him. What? Mom dropped him a lot when he was a baby, Leah told me. On his head, apparently. He used to gnaw on the crib bars, too. Lead paint? Looks like it, she thought. Seth snorted. Funny. Why don't you two shut up and sleep? 14. YOU KNOW THINGS ARE BAD WHEN YOU FEEL GUILTY FOR BEING RUDE TO VAMPIRES WHEN I GOT BACK TO THE HOUSE, THERE WAS NO ONE waiting outside for my report. Still on alert? Everything's cool, I thought tiredly. My eyes quickly caught a small change in the now-familiar scene. There was a stack of light-colored fabric on the bottom step of the porch. I loped over to investigate. Holding my breath, because the vampire smell stuck to the fabric like you wouldn't believe, I nudged the stack with my nose. Someone had laid out clothes. Huh. Edward must have caught my moment of irritation as I'd bolted out the door. Well. That was…nice. And weird. I took the clothes gingerly between my teeth—ugh—and carried them back to the trees. Just in case this was some joke by the blond psychopath and I had a bunch of girls' stuff here. Bet she'd love to see the look on my human face as I stood there naked, holding a sundress. In the cover of the trees, I dropped the stinking pile and shifted back to human. I shook the clothes out, snapping them against a tree to beat some of the smell from them. They were definitely guy's clothes—tan pants and a white button-down shirt. Neither of them long enough, but they looked like they'd fit around me. Must be Emmett's. I rolled the cuffs up on the shirtsleeves, but there wasn't much I could do about the pants. Oh well. I had to admit, I felt better with some clothes to my name, even stinky ones that didn't quite fit. It was hard not being able to just jet back home and grab another pair of old sweatpants when I needed them. The homeless thing again—not having anyplace to go back to. No possessions, either, which wasn't bothering me too bad now, but would probably get annoying soon. Exhausted, I walked slowly up the Cullens' porch steps in my fancy new secondhand clothes but hesitated when I got to the door. Did I knock? Stupid, when they knew I was here. I wondered why no one acknowledged that—told me either to come in or get lost. Whatever. I shrugged and let myself in. More changes. The room had shifted back to normalalmost—in the last twenty minutes. The big flat-screen was on, low volume, showing some chick flick that no one seemed to be watching. Carlisle and Esme stood by the back windows, which were open to the river again. Alice, Jasper, and Emmett were out of sight, but I heard them murmuring upstairs. Bella was on the couch like yesterday, with just one tube still hooked into her, and an IV hanging behind the back of the sofa. She was wrapped up like a burrito in a couple of thick quilts, so at least they'd listened to me before. Rosalie was cross-legged on the ground by her head. Edward sat at the other end of the couch with Bella's burrito'ed feet in his lap. He looked up when I came in and smiled at me—just a little twitch of his mouth—like something pleased him. Bella didn't hear me. She only glanced up when he did, and then she smiled, too. With real energy, her whole face lighting up. I couldn't remember the last time she'd looked so excited to see me. What was with her? For crying out loud, she was married! Happily married, too—there was no question that she was in love with her vampire past the boundaries of sanity. And hugely pregnant, to top it off. So why did she have to be so damn thrilled to see me? Like I'd made her whole freakin' day by walking through the door. If she would just not care…Or more than that—really not want me around. It would be so much easier to stay away. Edward seemed to be in agreement with my thoughts—we were on the same wavelength so much lately it was crazy. He was frowning now, reading her face while she beamed at me. "They just wanted to talk," I mumbled, my voice dragging with exhaustion. "No attack on the horizon." "Yes," Edward answered. "I heard most of it." That woke me up a little. We'd been a good three miles out. "How?" "I'm hearing you more clearly—it's a matter of familiarity and concentration. Also, your thoughts are slightly easier to pick up when you're in your human form. So I caught most of what passed out there." "Oh." It bugged me a little, but for no good reason, so I shrugged it off. "Good. I hate repeating myself." "I'd tell you to go get some sleep," Bella said, "but my guess is that you're going to pass out on the floor in about six seconds, so there's probably no point." It was amazing how much better she sounded, how much stronger she looked. I smelled fresh blood and saw that the cup was in her hands again. How much blood would it take to keep her going? At some point, would they start trotting in the neighbors? I headed for the door, counting off the seconds for her as I walked. "One Mississippi…two Mississippi…" "Where's the flood, mutt?" Rosalie muttered. "You know how you drown a blonde, Rosalie?" I asked without stopping or turning to look at her. "Glue a mirror to the bottom of a pool." I heard Edward chuckle as I pulled the door shut. His mood seemed to improve in exact correlation to Bella's health. "I've already heard that one," Rosalie called after me. I trudged down the steps, my only goal to drag myself far enough into the trees that the air would be pure again. I planned to ditch the clothes a convenient distance from the house for future use rather than tying them to my leg, so I wouldn't be smelling them, either. As I fumbled with the buttons on the new shirt, I thought randomly about how buttons would never be in style for werewolves. I heard the voices while I slogged across the lawn. "Where are you going?" Bella asked. "There was something I forgot to say to him." "Let Jacob sleep—it can wait." Yes, please, let Jacob sleep. "It will only take a moment." I turned slowly. Edward was already out the door. He had an apology in his expression as he approached me. "Jeez, what now?" "I'm sorry," he said, and then he hesitated, like he didn't know how to phrase what he was thinking. What's on your mind, mind reader? "When you were speaking to Sam's delegates earlier," he murmured, "I was giving a play-by-play for Carlisle and Esme and the rest. They were concerned—" "Look, we're not dropping our guard. You don't have to believe Sam like we do. We're keeping our eyes open regard less." "No, no, Jacob. Not about that. We trust your judgment. Rather, Esme was troubled by the hardships this is putting your pack through. She asked me to speak to you privately about it." That took me off guard. "Hardships?" "The homeless part, particularly. She's very upset that you are all so…bereft." I snorted. Vampire mother hen—bizarre. "We're tough. Tell her not to worry." "She'd still like to do what she can. I got the impression that Leah prefers not to eat in her wolf form?" "And?" I demanded. "Well, we do have normal human food here, Jacob. Keeping up appearances, and, of course, for Bella. Leah is welcome to anything she'd like. All of you are." "I'll pass that along." "Leah hates us." "So?" "So try to pass it along in such a way as to make her consider it, if you don't mind." "I'll do what I can." "And then there's the matter of clothes." I glanced down at the ones I was wearing. "Oh yeah. Thanks." It probably wouldn't be good manners to mention how bad they reeked. He smiled, just a little. "Well, we're easily able to help out with any needs there. Alice rarely allows us to wear the same thing twice. We've got piles of brand-new clothes that are destined for Goodwill, and I'd imagine that Leah is fairly close to Esme's size…" "Not sure how she'll feel about bloodsucker castoffs. She's not as practical as I am." "I trust that you can present the offer in the best possible light. As well as the offer for any other physical object you might need, or transportation, or anything else at all. And showers, too, since you prefer to sleep outdoors. Please…don't consider yourselves without the benefits of a home." He said the last line softly—not trying to keep quiet this time, but with some kind of real emotion. I stared at him for a second, blinking sleepily. "That's, er, nice of you. Tell Esme we appreciate the, uh, thought. But the perimeter cuts through the river in a few places, so we stay pretty clean, thanks." "If you would pass the offer on, regardless." "Sure, sure." "Thank you." I turned away from him, only to stop cold when I heard the low, pained cry from inside the house. By the time I looked back, he was already gone. What now? I followed after him, shuffling like a zombie. Using about the same number of brain cells, too. It didn't feel like I had a choice. Something was wrong. I would go see what it was. There would be nothing I could do. And I would feel worse. It seemed inevitable. I let myself in again. Bella was panting, curled over the bulge in the center of her body. Rosalie held her while Edward, Carlisle, and Esme all hovered. A flicker of motion caught my eye; Alice was at the top of the stairs, staring down into the room with her hands pressed to her temples. It was weird—like she was barred from entering somehow. "Give me a second, Carlisle," Bella panted. "Bella," the doctor said anxiously, "I heard something crack. I need to take a look." "Pretty sure"—pant—"it was a rib. Ow. Yep. Right here." She pointed to her left side, careful not to touch. It was breaking her bones now. "I need to take an X-ray. There might be splinters. We don't want it to puncture anything." Bella took a deep breath. "Okay." Rosalie lifted Bella carefully. Edward seemed like he was going to argue, but Rosalie bared her teeth at him and growled, "I've already got her." So Bella was stronger now, but the thing was, too. You couldn't starve one without starving the other, and healing worked just the same. No way to win. Blondie carried Bella swiftly up the big staircase with Carlisle and Edward right on her heels, none of them taking any notice of me standing dumbstruck in the doorway. So they had a blood bank and an X-ray machine? Guess the doc brought his work home with him. I was too tired to follow them, too tired to move. I leaned back against the wall and then slid to the ground. The door was still open, and I pointed my nose toward it, grateful for the clean breeze blowing in. I leaned my head against the jamb and listened. I could hear the sound of the X-ray machinery upstairs. Or maybe I just assumed that's what it was. And then the lightest of footsteps coming down the stairs. I didn't look to see which vampire it was. "Do you want a pillow?" Alice asked me. "No," I mumbled. What was with the pushy hospitality? It was creeping me out. "That doesn't look comfortable," she observed. "S'not." "Why don't you move, then?" "Tired. Why aren't you upstairs with the rest of them?" I shot back. "Headache," she answered. I rolled my head around to look at her. Alice was a tiny little thing. 'Bout the size of one of my arms. She looked even smaller now, sort of hunched in on herself. Her small face was pinched. "Vampires get headaches?" "Not the normal ones." I snorted. Normal vampires. "So how come you're never with Bella anymore?" I asked, making the question an accusation. It hadn't occurred to me before, because my head had been full of other crap, but it was weird that Alice was never around Bella, not since I'd been here. Maybe if Alice were by her side, Rosalie wouldn't be. "Thought you two were like this." I twisted two of my fingers together. "Like I said"—she curled up on the tile a few feet from me, wrapping her skinny arms around her skinny knees—"headache." "Bella's giving you a headache?" "Yes." I frowned. Pretty sure I was too tired for riddles. I let my head roll back around toward the fresh air and closed my eyes. "Not Bella, really," she amended. "The…fetus." Ah, someone else who felt like I did. It was pretty easy to recognize. She said the word grudgingly, the way Edward did. "I can't see it," she told me, though she might have been talking to herself. For all she knew, I was already gone. "I can't see anything about it. Just like you." I flinched, and then my teeth ground together. I didn't like being compared to the creature. "Bella gets in the way. She's all wrapped around it, so she's…blurry. Like bad reception on a TV—like trying to focus your eyes on those fuzzy people jerking around on the screen. It's killing my head to watch her. And I can't see more than a few minutes ahead, anyway. The…fetus is too much a part of her future. When she first decided…when she knew she wanted it, she blurred right out of my sight. Scared me to death." She was quiet for a second, and then she added, "I have to admit, it's a relief having you close by—in spite of the wet-dog smell. Everything goes away. Like having my eyes closed. It numbs the headache." "Happy to be of service, ma'am," I mumbled. "I wonder what it has in common with you…why you're the same that way." Sudden heat flashed in the center of my bones. I clenched my fists to hold off the tremors. "I have nothing in common with that life-sucker," I said through my teeth. "Well, there's something there." I didn't answer. The heat was already burning away. I was too dead tired to stay furious. "You don't mind if I sit here by you, do you?" she asked. "Guess not. Stinks anyway." "Thanks," she said. "This is the best thing for it, I guess, since I can't take aspirin." "Could you keep it down? Sleeping, here." She didn't respond, immediately lapsing into silence. I was out in seconds. I was dreaming that I was really thirsty. And there was a big glass of water in front of me—all cold, you could see the condensation running down the sides. I grabbed the cup and took a huge gulp, only to find out pretty quick that it wasn't water—it was straight bleach. I choked it back out, spewing it everywhere, and a bunch of it blew out of my nose. It burned. My nose was on fire… The pain in my nose woke me up enough to remember where I'd fallen asleep. The smell was pretty fierce, considering that my nose wasn't actually inside the house. Ugh. And it was noisy. Someone was laughing too loud. A familiar laugh, but one that didn't go with the smell. Didn't belong. I groaned and opened my eyes. The skies were dull gray—it was daytime, but no clue as to when. Maybe close to sunset—it was pretty dark. "About time," Blondie mumbled from not too far away. "The chainsaw impersonation was getting a little tired." I rolled over and wrenched myself into a sitting position. In the process, I figured out where the smell was coming from. Someone had stuffed a wide feather pillow under my face. Probably trying to be nice, I'd guess. Unless it'd been Rosalie. Once my face was out of the stinking feathers, I caught other scents. Like bacon and cinnamon, all mixed up with the vampire smell. I blinked, taking in the room. Things hadn't changed too much, except that now Bella was sitting up in the middle of the sofa, and the IV was gone. Blondie sat at her feet, her head resting against Bella's knees. Still gave me chills to see how casually they touched her, though I guess that was pretty brain-dead, all things considered. Edward was on one side of her, holding her hand. Alice was on the floor, too, like Rosalie. Her face wasn't pinched up now. And it was easy to see why—she'd found another painkiller. "Hey, Jake's coming around!" Seth crowed. He was sitting on Bella's other side, his arm slung carelessly over her shoulders, an overflowing plate of food on his lap. What the hell? "He came to find you," Edward said while I got to my feet. "And Esme convinced him to stay for breakfast." Seth took in my expression, and he hurried to explain. "Yeah, Jake— I was just checking to see if you were okay 'cause you didn't ever phase back. Leah got worried. I told her you probably just crashed human, but you know how she is. Anyway, they had all this food and, dang,"—he turned to Edward—"man, you can cook." "Thank you," Edward murmured. I inhaled slowly, trying to unclench my teeth. I couldn't take my eyes off Seth's arm. "Bella got cold," Edward said quietly. Right. None of my business, anyway. She didn't belong to me. Seth heard Edward's comment, looked at my face, and suddenly he needed both hands to eat with. He took his arm off Bella and dug in. I walked over to stand a few feet from the couch, still trying to get my bearings. "Leah running patrol?" I asked Seth. My voice was still thick with sleep. "Yeah," he said as he chewed. Seth had new clothes on, too. They fit him better than mine fit me. "She's on it. No worries. She'll howl if there's anything. We traded off around midnight. I ran twelve hours." He was proud of that, and it showed in his tone. "Midnight? Wait a minute—what time is it now?" –Bout dawn." He glanced toward the window, checking. Well, damn. I'd slept through the rest of the day and the whole night—dropped the ball. "Crap. Sorry about that, Seth. Really. You shoulda kicked me awake." "Naw, man, you needed some serious sleep. You haven't taken a break since when? Night before your last patrol for Sam? Like forty hours? Fifty? You're not a machine, Jake. 'Sides, you didn't miss anything at all." Nothing at all? I glanced quickly at Bella. Her color was back to the way I remembered it. Pale, but with the rose undertone. Her lips were pink again. Even her hair looked better—shinier. She saw me appraising and gave me a grin. "How's the rib?" I asked. "Taped up nice and tight. I don't even feel it." I rolled my eyes. I heard Edward grind his teeth together, and I figured her blow-it-off attitude bugged him as much at it bugged me. "What's for breakfast?" I asked, a little sarcastic. "0 negative or AB positive?" She stuck her tongue out at me. Totally herself again. "Omelets," she said, but her eyes darted down, and I saw that her cup of blood was wedged between her leg and Edward's. "Go get some breakfast, Jake," Seth said. "There's a bunch in the kitchen. You've got to be empty." I examined the food in his lap. Looked like half a cheese omelet and the last fourth of a Frisbee-sized cinnamon roll. My stomach growled, but I ignored it. "What's Leah having for breakfast?" I asked Seth critically. "Hey, I took food to her before I ate anything," he defended himself. "She said she'd rather eat roadkill, but I bet she caves. These cinnamon rolls…" He seemed at a loss for words. "I'll go hunt with her, then." Seth sighed as I turned to leave. "A moment, Jacob?" It was Carlisle asking, so when I turned around again, my face was probably less disrespectful than it would have been if anyone else had stopped me. "Yeah?" Carlisle approached me while Esme drifted off toward the other room. He stopped a few feet away, just a little bit farther away than the normal space between two humans having a conversation. I appreciated him giving me my space. "Speaking of hunting," he began in a somber tone. "That's going to be an issue for my family. I understand that our previous truce is inoperative at the moment, so I wanted your advice. Will Sam be hunting for us outside of the perimeter you've created? We don't want to take a chance with hurting any of your family—or losing any of ours. If you were in our shoes, how would you proceed?" I leaned away, a little surprised, when he threw it back at me like that. What would I know about being in a bloodsucker's expensive shoes? But, then again, I did know Sam. "It's a risk," I said, trying to ignore the other eyes I felt on me and to talk only to him. "Sam's calmed down some, but I'm pretty sure that in his head, the treaty is void. As long as he thinks the tribe, or any other human, is in real danger, he's not going to ask questions first, if you know what I mean. But, with all that, his priority is going to be La Push. There really aren't enough of them to keep a decent watch on the people while putting out hunting parties big enough to do much damage. I'd bet he's keeping it close to home." Carlisle nodded thoughtfully. "So I guess I'd say, go out together, just in case. And probably you should go in the day, 'cause we'd be expecting night. Traditional vampire stuff. You're fast—go over the mountains and hunt far enough away that there's no chance he'd send anyone that far from home." "And leave Bella behind, unprotected?" I snorted. "What are we, chopped liver?" Carlisle laughed, and then his face was serious again. "Jacob, you can't fight against your brothers." My eyes tightened. "I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard, but if they were really coming to kill her—I would be able to stop them." Carlisle shook his head, anxious. "No, I didn't mean that you would be…incapable. But that it would be very wrong. I can't have that on my conscience." "It wouldn't be on yours, Doc. It would be on mine. And I can take it." "No, Jacob. We will make sure that our actions don't make that a necessity." He frowned thoughtfully "We'll go three at a time," he decided after a second. "That's probably the best we can do." "I don't know, Doc. Dividing down the middle isn't the best strategy." "We've got some extra abilities that will even it up. If Edward is one of the three, he'll be able to give us a few miles' radius of safety." We both glanced at Edward. His expression had Carlisle backtracking quickly. "I'm sure there are other ways, too," Carlisle said. Clearly, there was no physical need strong enough to get Edward away from Bella now. "Alice, I would imagine you could see which routes would be a mistake?" "The ones that disappear," Alice said, nodding. "Easy." Edward, who had gone all tense with Carlisle's first plan, loosened up. Bella was staring unhappily at Alice, that little crease between her eyes that she got when she was stressed out. "Okay, then," I said. "That's settled. I'll just be on my way. Seth, I'll expect you back on at dusk, so get a nap in there somewhere, all right?" "Sure, Jake. I'll phase back soon as I'm done. Unless…" he hesitated, looking at Bella. "Do you need me?" "She's got blankets," I snapped at him. "I'm fine, Seth, thanks," Bella said quickly. And then Esme flitted back in the room, a big covered dish in her hands. She stopped hesitantly just behind Carlisle's elbow, her wide, dark gold eyes on my face. She held the dish out and took a shy step closer. "Jacob," she said quietly. Her voice wasn't quite so piercing as the others'. "I know it's…unappetizing to you, the idea of eating here, where it smells so unpleasant. But I would feel much better if you would take some food with you when you go. I know you can't go home, and that's because of us. Please—ease some of my remorse. Take something to eat." She held the food out to me, her face all soft and pleading. I don't know how she did it, because she didn't look older than her mid-twenties, and she was bone pale, too, but something about her expression suddenly reminded me of my mom. Jeez. "Uh, sure, sure," I mumbled. "I guess. Maybe Leah's still hungry or something." I reached out and took the food with one hand, holding it away, at arm's length. I'd go dump it under a tree or something. I didn't want her to feel bad. Then I remembered Edward. Don't you say anything to her! Let her think I ate it. I didn't look at him to see if he was in agreement. He'd better be in agreement. Bloodsucker owed me. "Thank you, Jacob," Esme said, smiling at me. How did a stone face have dimples, for crying out loud? "Um, thank you," I said. My face felt hot—hotter than usual. This was the problem with hanging out with vampires—you got used to them. They started messing up the way you saw the world. They started feeling like friends. "Will you come back later, Jake?" Bella asked as I tried to make a run for it. "Uh, I don't know." She pressed her lips together, like she was trying not to smile. "Please? I might get cold." I inhaled deeply through my nose, and then realized, too late, that that was not a good idea. I winced. "Maybe." "Jacob?" Esme asked. I backed toward the door as she continued; she took a few steps after me. "I left a basket of clothes on the porch. They're for Leah. They're freshly washed—I tried to touch them as little as possible." She frowned. "Do you mind taking them to her?" "On it," I muttered, and then I ducked out the door before anyone could guilt me into anything else. 15. TICK TOCK TICK TOCK TICK TOCK HEY, JAKE, THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU WANTED ME AT DUSK. How come you didn't have Leah wake me up before she crashed? 'Cause I didn't need you. I'm still good. He was already picking up the north half of the circle. Anything? Nope. Nothing but nothing. You did some scouting? He'd caught the edge of one of my side trips. He headed up the new trail. Yeah-I ran a few spokes. You know, just checking. If the Cullen are going to make a hunting trip … Good call. Seth looped back toward the main perimeter. It was easier to run with him than it was to do the same with Leah. Though she was trying—trying hard—there was always an edge to her thoughts. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to feel the softening toward the vampires that was going on in my head. She didn't want to deal with Seth's cozy friendship with them, a friendship that was only getting stronger. Funny, though, I'd've thought her biggest issue would just be me. We'd always gotten on each other's nerves when we were in Sam's pack. But there was no antagonism toward me now at all, just the Cullens and Bella. I wondered why. Maybe it was simply gratitude that I wasn't forcing her to leave. Maybe it was because I understood her hostility better now. Whichever, running with Leah wasn't nearly as bad as I'd expected. Of course, she hadn't eased up that much. The food and clothes Esme had sent for her were all taking a trip down-river right now. Even after I'd eaten my share—not because it smelled nearly irresistible away from the vampire burn, but to set a good example of self-sacrificing tolerance for Leah—she'd refused. The small elk she'd taken down around noon had not totally satisfied her appetite. Did make her mood worse, though. Leah hated eating raw. Maybe we should run a sweep east? Seth suggested. Go deep, see if they're out there waiting. I was thinking about that, I agreed. But let's do it when we're all awake. I don't want to let down our guard. We should do it before the Cullens give it a try, though. Soon. Right. That got me thinking. If the Cullens were able to get out of the immediate area safely, they really ought to keep on going. They probably should have taken off the second we'd come to warn them. They had to be able to afford other digs. And they had friends up north, right? Take Bella and run. It seemed like an obvious answer to their problems. I probably ought to suggest that, but I was afraid they would listen to me. And I didn't want to have Bella disappear—to never know whether she'd made it or not. No, that was stupid. I would tell them to go. It made no sense for them to stay, and it would be better—not less painful, but healthier—for me if Bella left. Easy to say now, when Bella wasn't right there, looking all thrilled to see me and also clinging to life by her fingernails at the same time … Oh, I already asked Edward about that, Seth thought. What? I asked him why they hadn't taken off yet. Gone up to Tanya's place or something. Somewhere too far for Sam to come after them. I had to remind myself that I'd just decided to give the Cullens that exact advice. That it was best. So I shouldn't be mad at Seth for taking the chore out of my hands. Not mad at all. So what did he say? Are they waiting for a window? No. They're not leaving. And that shouldn't sound like good news. Why not? That's just stupid. Not really, Seth said, defensive now. It takes some time to build up the kind of medical access that Carlisle has here. He's got all the stuff he needs to take care of Bella, and the credentials to get more. That's one of the reasons they want to make a hunting run. Carlisle thinks they're going to need more blood for Bella soon. She's using up all the O negative they stored for her. He doesn't like depleting the stockpile. He's going to buy some more. Did you know you can buy blood? If you're a doctor. I wasn't ready to be logical yet. Still seems stupid. They could bring most of it with them, right? And steal what they need wherever they go. Who cares about legal crap when you're the undead? Edward doesn't want to take any risks moving her. She's better than she was. Seriously, Seth agreed. In his head, he was comparing my memories of Bella hooked up to the tubes with the last time he'd seen her as he'd left the house. She'd smiled at him and waved. But she can't move around much, you know. That thing is kicking the hell out of her. I swallowed back the stomach acid in my throat. Yeah, I know. Broke another of her ribs, he told me somberly. My stride faltered, and I staggered a step before I regained my rhythm. Carlisle taped her up again. Just another crack, he said. Then Rosalie said something about how even normal human babies have been known to crack ribs. Edward looked like he was gonna rip her head off. Too bad he didn't. Seth was in full report mode now—knowing it was all vitally interesting to me, though I'd never've asked to hear it. Bella's been running a fever off and on today. Just low grade—sweats and then chills. Carlisle's not sure what to make of it—she might just be sick. Her immune system can't be in peak form right now. Yeah, I'm sure it's just a coincidence. She's in a good mood, though. She was chatting with Charlie, laughing and all— Charlie! What?! What do you mean, she was talking to Charlie?! Now Seth's pace stuttered; my fury surprised him. Guess he calls every day to talk to her. Sometimes her mom calls, too. Bella sounds so much better now, so she was reassuring him that she was on the mend— On the mend? What the hell are they thinking?! Get Charlie's hopes up just so that he can be destroyed even worse when she dies? I thought they were getting him ready for that! Trying to prepare him! Why would she set him up like this? She might not die, Seth thought quietly. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. Seth. Even if she pulls through this, she's not doing it human. She knows that, and so do the rest of them. If she doesn't die, she's going to have to do a pretty convincing impersonation of a corpse, kid. Either that, or disappear. I thought they were trying to make this easier on Charlie. Why … ? Think it's Bella's idea. No one said anything, but Edward's face kinda went right along with what you're thinking now. On the same wavelength with the bloodsucker yet again. We ran in silence for a few minutes. I started off along a new line, probing south. Don't get too far. Why? Bella asked me to ask you to stop by. My teeth locked together. Alice wants you, too. She says she's tired of hanging out in the attic like the vampire bat in the belfry. Seth snorted a laugh. I was switching off with Edward before. Trying to keep Bella's temperature stable. Cold to hot, as needed. I guess, if you don't want to do it, I could go back— No. I got it, I snapped. Okay. Seth didn't make any more comments. He concentrated very hard on the empty forest. I kept my southern course, searching for anything new. I turned around when I got close to the first signs of habitation. Not near the town yet, but I didn't want to get any wolf rumors going again. We'd been nice and invisible for a long while now. I passed right through the perimeter on my way back, heading for the house. As much as I knew it was a stupid thing to do, I couldn't stop myself. I must be some kind of masochist. There's nothing wrong with you, Jake. This isn't the most normal situation. Shut up, please, Seth. Shutting. I didn't hesitate at the door this time; I just walked through like I owned the place. I figured that would piss Rosalie off, but it was a wasted effort. Neither Rosalie or Bella were anywhere in sight. I looked around wildly, hoping I'd missed them somewhere, my heart squeezing against my ribs in a weird, uncomfortable way. "She's all right," Edward whispered. "Or, the same, I should say." Edward was on the couch with his face in his hands; he hadn't looked up to speak. Esme was next to him, her arm wrapped tight around his shoulders. "Hello, Jacob," she said. "I'm so glad you came back." "Me, too," Alice said with a deep sigh. She came prancing down the stairs, making a face. Like I was late for an appointment. "Uh, hey," I said. It felt weird to try to be polite. "Where's Bella?" "Bathroom," Alice told me. "Mostly fluid diet, you know. Plus, the whole pregnancy thing does that to you, I hear." "Ah." I stood there awkwardly, rocking back and forth on my heels. "Oh, wonderful," Rosalie grumbled. I whipped my head around and saw her coming from a hall half-hidden behind the stairway. She had Bella cradled gently in her arms, a harsh sneer on her face for me. "I knew I smelled something nasty." And, just like before, Bella's face lit up like a kid's on Christmas morning. Like I'd brought her the greatest gift ever. It was so unfair. "Jacob," she breathed. "You came." "Hi, Bells." Esme and Edward both got up. I watched how carefully Rosalie laid Bella out on the couch. I watched how, despite that, Bella turned white and held her breath—like she was set on not making any noise no matter how much it hurt. Edward brushed his hand across her forehead and then along her neck. He tried to make it look as if he was just sweeping her hair back, but it looked like a doctor's examination to me. "Are you cold?" he murmured. "I'm fine." "Bella, you know what Carlisle told you," Rosalie said. "Don't downplay anything. It doesn't help us take care of either of you." "Okay, I'm a little cold. Edward, can you hand me that blanket?" I rolled my eyes. "Isn't that sort of the point of me being here?" "You just walked in," Bella said. "After running all day, I'd bet. Put your feet up for a minute. I'll probably warm up again in no time." I ignored her, going to sit on the floor next the sofa while she was still telling me what to do. At that point, though, I wasn't sure how… She looked pretty brittle, and I was afraid to move her, even to put my arms around her. So I just leaned carefully against her side, letting my arm rest along the length of hers, and held her hand. Then I put my other hand against her face. It was hard to tell if she felt colder than usual. "Thanks, Jake," she said, and I felt her shiver once. "Yeah," I said. Edward sat on the arm of the sofa by Bella's feet, his eyes always on her face. It was too much to hope, with all the super-hearing in the room, that no one would notice my stomach rumbling. "Rosalie, why don't you get Jacob something from the kitchen?" Alice said. She was invisible now, sitting quietly behind the back of the sofa. Rosalie stared at the place Alice's voice had come from in disbelief. "Thanks, anyway, Alice, but I don't think I'd want to eat something Blondie's spit in. I'd bet my system wouldn't take too kindly to venom." "Rosalie would never embarrass Esme by displaying such a lack of hospitality." "Of course not," Blondie said in a sugar-sweet voice that I immediately distrusted. She got up and breezed out of the room. Edward sighed. "You'd tell me if she poisoned it, right?" I asked. "Yes," Edward promised. And for some reason I believed him. There was a lot of banging in the kitchen, andweirdly—the sound of metal protesting as it was abused. Edward sighed again, but smiled just a little, too. Then Rosalie was back before I could think much more about it. With a pleased smirk, she set a silver bowl on the floor next to me. "Enjoy, mongrel." It had once probably been a big mixing bowl, but she'd bent the bowl back in on itself until it was shaped almost exactly like a dog dish. I had to be impressed with her quick craftsmanship. And her attention to detail. She'd scratched the word Fido into the side. Excellent handwriting. Because the food looked pretty good—steak, no less, and a big baked potato with all the fixings—I told her, "Thanks, Blondie." She snorted. "Hey, do you know what you call a blonde with a brain?" I asked, and then continued on the same breath, "a golden retriever." "I've heard that one, too," she said, no longer smiling. "I'll keep trying," I promised, and then I dug in. She made a disgusted face and rolled her eyes. Then she sat in one of the armchairs and started flicking through channels on the big TV so fast that there was no way she could really be surfing for something to watch. The food was good, even with the vampire stink in the air. I was getting really used to that. Huh. Not something I'd been wanting to do, exactly… When I was finished—though I was considering licking the bowl, just to give Rosalie something to complain about—I felt Bella's cold fingers pulling softly through my hair. She patted it down against the back of my neck. "Time for a haircut, huh?" "You're getting a little shaggy," she said. "Maybe—" "Let me guess, someone around here used to cut hair in a salon in Paris?" She chuckled. "Probably." "No thanks," I said before she could really offer. "I'm good for a few more weeks." Which made me wonder how long she was good for. I tried to think of a polite way to ask. "So…urn…what's the, er, date? You know, the due date for the little monster." She smacked the back of my head with about as much force as a drifting feather, but didn't answer. "I'm serious," I told her. "I want to know how long I'm gonna have to be here." How long you're gonna be here, I added in my head. I turned to look at her then. Her eyes were thoughtful; the stress line was there between her brows again. "I don't know," she murmured. "Not exactly. Obviously, we're not going with the nine-month model here, and we can't get an ultrasound, so Carlisle is guesstimating from how big I am. Normal people are supposed to be about forty centimeters here"—she ran her finger right down the middle of her bulging stomach—"when the baby is fully grown. One centimeter for every week. I was thirty this morning, and I've been gaining about two centimeters a day, sometimes more…" Two weeks to a day, the days flying by. Her life speeding by in fast- forward. How many days did that give her, if she was counting to forty? Four? It took me a minute to figure out how to swallow. "You okay?" she asked. I nodded, not really sure how my voice would come out. Edward's face was turned away from us as he listened to my thoughts, but I could see his reflection in the glass wall. He was the burning man again. Funny how having a deadline made it harder to think about leaving, or having her leave. I was glad Seth'd brought that up, so I knew they were staying here. It would be intolerable, wondering if they were about to go, to take away one or two or three of those four days. My four days. Also funny how, even knowing that it was almost over, the hold she had on me only got harder to break. Almost like it was related to her expanding belly—as if by getting bigger, she was gaining gravitational force. For a minute I tried to look at her from a distance, to separate myself from the pull. I knew it wasn't my imagination that my need for her was stronger than ever. Why was that? Because she was dying? Or knowing that even if she didn't, still—best case scenario—she'd be changing into something else that I wouldn't know or understand? She ran her finger across my cheekbone, and my skin was wet where she touched it. "It's going to be okay," she sort of crooned. It didn't matter that the words meant nothing. She said it the way people sang those senseless nursery rhymes to kids. Rocka-bye, baby. "Right," I muttered. She curled against my arm, resting her head on my shoulder. "I didn't think you would come. Seth said you would, and so did Edward, but I didn't believe them." "Why not?" I asked gruffly. "You're not happy here. But you came anyway." "You wanted me here." "I know. But you didn't have to come, because it's not fair for me to want you here. I would have understood." It was quiet for a minute. Edward'd put his face back together. He looked at the TV as Rosalie went on flipping through the channels. She was into the six hundreds. I wondered how long it would take to get back to the beginning. "Thank you for coming," Bella whispered. "Can I ask you something?" I asked. "Of course." Edward didn't look like he was paying attention to us at all, but he knew what I was about to ask, so he didn't fool me. "Why do you want me here? Seth could keep you warm, and he's probably easier to be around, happy little punk. But when I walk in the door, you smile like I'm your favorite person in the world." "You're one of them." "That sucks, you know." "Yeah." She sighed. "Sorry." "Why, though? You didn't answer that." Edward was looking away again, like he was staring out the windows. His face was blank in the reflection. "It feels … complete when you're here, Jacob. Like all my family is together. I mean, I guess that's what it's like—I've never had a big family before now. It's nice." She smiled for half a second. "But it's just not whole unless you're here." "I'll never be part of your family, Bella." I could have been. I would have been good there. But that was just a distant future that died long before it had a chance to live. "You've always been a part of my family," she disagreed. My teeth made a grinding sound. "That's a crap answer." "What's a good one?" "How about, Jacob, I get a kick, out of your pain.— I felt her flinch. "You'd like that better?" she whispered. "It's easier, at least. I could wrap my head around it. I could deal with it." I looked back down at her face then, so close to mine. Her eyes were shut and she was frowning. "We got off track, Jake. Out of balance. You're supposed to be part of my life—I can feel that, and so can you." She paused for a second without opening her eyes—like she was waiting for me to deny it. When I didn't say anything, she went on. "But not like this. We did something wrong. No. I did. I did something wrong, and we got off track…" Her voice trailed off, and the frown on her face relaxed until it was just a little pucker at the corner of her lips. I waited for her to pour some more lemon juice into my paper cuts, but then a soft snore came from the back of her throat. "She's exhausted," Edward murmured. "It's been a long day. A hard day. I think she would have gone to sleep earlier, but she was waiting for you." I didn't look at him. "Seth said it broke another of her ribs." "Yes. It's making it hard for her to breathe." "Great." "Let me know when she gets hot again." "Yeah." She still had goose bumps on the arm that wasn't touching mine. I'd barely raised my head to look for a blanket when Edward snagged one draped over the arm of the sofa and flung it out so that it settled over her. Occasionally, the mind-reading thing saved time. For example, maybe I wouldn't have to make a big production out of the accusation about what was going on with Charlie. That mess. Edward would just hear exactly how furious— "Yes," he agreed. "It's not a good idea." "Then why?" Why was Bella telling her father she was on the mend when it would only make him more miserable? "She can't bear his anxiety." "So it's better—" "No. It's not better. But I'm not going to force her to do anything that makes her unhappy now. Whatever happens, this makes her feel better. I'll deal with the rest afterward." That didn't sound right. Bella wouldn't just shuffle Charlie's pain off to some later date, for someone else to face. Even dying. That wasn't her. If I knew Bella, she had to have some other plan. "She's very sure she's going to live," Edward said. "But not human," I protested. "No, not human. But she hopes to see Charlie again, anyway." Oh, this just got better and better. "See. Charlie." I finally looked at him, my eyes bugging. "Afterwards. See Charlie when she's all sparkly white with the bright red eyes. I'm not a bloodsucker, so maybe I'm missing something, but Charlie seems like kind of a strange choice for her first meal." Edward sighed. "She knows she won't be able to be near him for at least a year. She thinks she can stall. Tell Charlie she has to go to a special hospital on the other side of the world. Keep in contact through phone calls…" "That's insane." "Yes." "Charlie's not stupid. Even if she doesn't kill him, he's going to notice a difference." "She's sort of banking on that." I continued to stare, waiting for him to explain. "She wouldn't be aging, of course, so that would set a time limit, even if Charlie accepted whatever excuse she comes up with for the changes." He smiled faintly. "Do you remember when you tried to tell her about your transformation? How you made her guess?" My free hand flexed into a fist. "She told you about that?" "Yes. She was explaining her…idea. You see, she's not allowed to tell Charlie the truth—it would be very dangerous for him. But he's a smart, practical man. She thinks he'll come up with his own explanation. She assumes he'll get it wrong." Edward snorted. "After all, we hardly adhere to vampire canon. He'll make some wrong assumption about us, like she did in the beginning, and we'll go along with it. She thinks she'll be able to see him…from time to time." "Insane," I repeated. "Yes," he agreed again. It was weak of him to let her get her way on this, just to keep her happy now. It wouldn't turn out well. Which made me think that he probably wasn't expecting her to live to try out her crazy plan. Placating her, so that she could be happy for a little while longer. Like four more days. "I'll deal with whatever comes," he whispered, and he turned his face down and away so that I couldn't even read his reflection. "I won't cause her pain now." "Four days?" I asked. He didn't look up. "Approximately." "Then what?" "What do you mean, exactly?" I thought about what Bella had said. About the thing being wrapped up nice and tight in something strong, something like vampire skin. So how did that work? How did it get out? "From what little research we've been able to do, it would appear the creatures use their own teeth to escape the womb," he whispered. I had to pause to swallow back the bile. "Research?" I asked weakly. "That's why you haven't seen Jasper and Emmett around. That's what Carlisle is doing now. Trying to decipher ancient stories and myths, as much as we can with what we have to work with here, looking for anything that might help us predict the creature's behavior." Stories? If there were myths, then … "Then is this thing not the first of its kind?" Edward asked, anticipating my question. "Maybe. It's all very sketchy. The myths could easily be the products of fear and imagination. Though…"—he hesitated—"your myths are true, are they not? Perhaps these are, too. They do seem to be localized, linked…" "How did you find…?" "There was a woman we encountered in South America. She'd been raised in the traditions of her people. She'd heard warnings about such creatures, old stories that had been passed down." "What were the warnings?" I whispered. "That the creature must be killed immediately. Before it could gain too much strength." Just like Sam thought. Was he right? "Of course, their legends say the same of us. That we must be destroyed. That we are soulless murderers." Two for two. Edward laughed one hard chuckle. "What did their stories say about the…mothers?" Agony ripped across his face, and, as I flinched away from his pain, I knew he wasn't going to give me an answer. I doubted he could talk. It was Rosalie—who'd been so still and quiet since Bella'd fallen asleep that I'd nearly forgotten her—who answered. She made a scornful noise in the back of her throat. "Of course there were no survivors," she said. No survivors, blunt and uncaring. "Giving birth in the middle of a disease-infested swamp with a medicine man smearing sloth spit across your face to drive out the evil spirits was never the safest method. Even the normal births went badly half the time. None of them had what this baby has—caregivers with an idea of what the baby needs, who try to meet those needs. A doctor with a totally unique knowledge of vampire nature. A plan in place to deliver the baby as safely as possible. Venom that will repair anything that goes wrong. The baby will be fine. And those other mothers would probably have survived if they'd had that—if they even existed in the first place. Something I am not convinced of." She sniffed disdainfully. The baby, the baby. Like that was all that mattered. Bella's life was a minor detail to her—easy to blow off. Edward's face went white as snow. His hands curved into claws. Totally egotistical and indifferent, Rosalie twisted in her chair so that her back was to him. He leaned forward, shifting into a crouch. Allow me, I suggested. He paused, raising one eyebrow. Silently, I lifted my doggy bowl off the floor. Then, with a quick, powerful flip of my wrist, I threw it into the back of Blondie's head so hard that—with an earsplitting bang—it smashed flat before it ricocheted across the room and snapped the round top piece off the thick newel post at the foot of the stairs. Bella twitched but didn't wake up. "Dumb blonde," I muttered. Rosalie turned her head slowly, and her eyes were blazing. "You. Got. Food. In. My. Hair." That did it. I busted up. I pulled away from Bella so that I wouldn't shake her, and laughed so hard that tears ran down my face. From behind the couch, I heard Alice's tinkling laugh join in. I wondered why Rosalie didn't spring. I sort of expected it. But then I realized that my laughing had woken Bella up, though she'd slept right through the real noise. "What's so funny?" she mumbled. "I got food in her hair," I told her, chortling again. "I'm not going to forget this, dog," Rosalie hissed. "S'not so hard to erase a blonde's memory," I countered. "Just blow in her ear." "Get some new jokes," she snapped. "C'mon, Jake. Leave Rose alo—" Bella broke off mid-sentence and sucked in a sharp breath. In the same second, Edward was leaning over the top of me, ripping the blanket out of the way. She seemed to convulse, her back arching off the sofa. "He's just," she panted, "stretching." Her lips were white, and she had her teeth locked together like she was trying to hold back a scream. Edward put both hands on either side of her face. "Carlisle?" he called in a tense, low voice. "Right here," the doctor said. I hadn't heard him come in. "Okay," Bella said, still breathing hard and shallow. "Think it's over. Poor kid doesn't have enough room, that's all. He's getting so big." It was really hard to take, that adoring tone she used to describe the thing that was tearing her up. Especially after Rosalie's callousness. Made me wish I could throw something at Bella, too. She didn't pick up on my mood. "You know, he reminds me of you, Jake," she said—affectionate tone—still gasping. "Do not compare me to that thing," I spit out through my teeth. "I just meant your growth spurt," she said, looking like I'd hurt her feelings. Good. "You shot right up. I could watch you getting taller by the minute. He's like that, too. Growing so fast." I bit my tongue to keep from saying what I wanted to say—hard enough that I tasted blood in my mouth. Of course, it would heal before I could swallow. That's what Bella needed. To be strong like me, to be able to heal… She took an easier breath and then relaxed back into the sofa, her body going limp. "Hmm," Carlisle murmured. I looked up, and his eyes were on me. "What?" I demanded. Edward's head leaned to one side as he reflected on whatever was in Carlisle's head. "You know that I was wondering about the fetus's genetic makeup, Jacob. About his chromosomes." "What of it?" "Well, taking your similarities into consideration—" "Similarities?" I growled, not appreciating the plural. "The accelerated growth, and the fact that Alice cannot see either of you." I felt my face go blank. I'd forgotten about that other one. "Well, I wonder if that means that we have an answer. If the similarities are gene-deep." "Twenty-four pairs," Edward muttered under his breath. "You don't know that." "No. But it's interesting to speculate," Carlisle said in a soothing voice. "Yeah. Just fascinating." Bella's light snore started up again, accenting my sarcasm nicely. They got into it then, quickly taking the genetics conversation to a point where the only words I could understand were the the's and the and's. And my own name, of course. Alice joined in, commenting now and then in her chirpy bird voice. Even though they were talking about me, I didn't try to figure out the conclusions they were drawing. I had other things on my mind, a few facts I was trying to reconcile. Fact one, Bella'd said that the creature was protected by something as strong as vampire skin, something that was too impenetrable for ultrasounds, too tough for needles. Fact two, Rosalie'd said they had a plan to deliver the creature safely. Fact three, Edward'd said that—in myths—other monsters like this one would chew their way out of their own mothers. I shuddered. And that made a sick kind of sense, because, fact four, not many things could cut through something as strong as vampire skin. The halfcreature's teeth—according to myth—were strong enough. My teeth were strong enough. And vampire teeth were strong enough. It was hard to miss the obvious, but I sure wished I could. Because I had a pretty good idea exactly how Rosalie planned to get that thing "safely" out. 16. TOO-MUCH-INFORMATION ALERT I TOOK OFF EARLY, LONG BEFORE SUNRISE WAS DUE. I'd gotten just a little bit of uneasy sleep leaning against the side of the sofa. Edward woke me when Bella's face was flushed, and he took my spot to cool her back down. I stretched and decided I was rested enough to get some work done. "Thank you," Edward said quietly, seeing my plans. "If the route is clear, they'll go today." "I'll let you know." It felt good to get back to my animal self. I was stiff from sitting still for so long. I extended my stride, working out the kinks. Morning, Jacob, Leah greeted me. Good, you're up. How long's Seth been out? Not out yet, Seth thought sleepily. Almost there. What do you need? You think you got another hour in you? Sure thing. No problem. Seth got to his feet right away, shaking out his fur. Let's make the deep run, I told Leah. Seth, take the perimeter. Gotcha. Seth broke into an easy jog. Off on another vampire errand, Leah grumbled. You got a problem with that? Of course not. I just love to coddle those darling leeches. Good. Let's see how fast we can run. Okay, I'm definitely up for that! Leah was on the far western rim of the perimeter. Rather than cut close to the Cullens' house, she stuck to the circle as she raced around to meet me. I sprinted off straight east, knowing that even with the head start, she'd be passing me soon if I took it easy for even a second. Nose to the ground. Leah. This isn't a race, it's a reconnaissance mission. I can do both and still kick your butt. I gave her that one. I know. She laughed. We took a winding path through the eastern mountains. It was a familiar route. We'd run these mountains when the vampires had left a year ago, making it part of our patrol route to better protect the people here. Then we'd pulled back the lines when the Cullens returned. This was their treaty land. But that fact would probably mean nothing to Sam now. The treaty was dead. The question today was how thin he was willing to spread his force. Was he looking for stray Cullens to poach on their land or not? Had Jared spoken the truth or taken advantage of the silence between us? We got deeper and deeper into the mountains without finding any trace of the pack. Fading vampire trails were everywhere, but the scents were familiar now. I was breathing them in all day long. I found a heavy, somewhat recent concentration on one particular trail—all of them coming and going here except for Edward. Some reason for gathering that must have been forgotten when Edward brought his dying pregnant wife home. I gritted my teeth. Whatever it was, it had nothing to do with me. Leah didn't push herself past me, though she could have now. I was paying more attention to each new scent than I was to the speed contest. She kept to my right side, running with me rather than racing against me. We're getting pretty far out here, she commented. Yeah. If Sam was hunting strays, we should have crossed his trail by now. Makes more sense right now for him to bunker down in La Push, Leah thought. He knows we're giving the bloodsuckers three extra sets of eyes and legs. He's not going to be able to surprise them. This was just a precaution, really. Wouldn't want our precious parasites taking unnecessary chances. Nope, I agreed, ignoring the sarcasm. You've changed so much, Jacob. Talk about one-eighties. You're not exactly the same Leah I've always known and loved, either. True. Am I less annoying than Paul now? Amazingly…yes. Ah, sweet success. Congrats. We ran in silence again then. It was probably time to turn around, but neither of us wanted to. It felt nice to run like this. We'd been staring at the same small circle of a trail for too long. It felt good to stretch our muscles and take the rugged terrain. We weren't in a huge hurry, so I thought maybe we should hunt on the way back. Leah was pretty hungry. Yum, yum, she thought sourly. It's all in your head, I told her. That's the way wolves eat. It's natural. It tastes fine. If you didn't think about it from a human perspective— Forget the pep talk, Jacob. I'll hunt. I don't have to like it. Sure, sure, I agreed easily. It wasn't my business if she wanted to make things harder for herself. She didn't add anything for a few minutes; I started thinking about turning back. Thank you, Leah suddenly told me in a much different tone. For? For letting me be. For letting me stay. You've been nicer than I had any right to expect, Jacob. Er, no problem. Actually, I mean that. I don't mind having you here like I thought I would. She snorted, but it was a playful sound. What a glowing commendation! Don't let it go to your head. Okay—if you don't let this go to yours. She paused for a second. I think you make a good Alpha. Not in the same way Sam does, but in your own way. You're worth following, Jacob. My mind went blank with surprise. It took me a second to recover enough to respond. Er, thanks. Not totally sure I'll be able to stop that one from going to my head, though. Where did that come from? She didn't answer right away, and I followed the wordless direction of her thoughts. She was thinking about the future—about what I'd said to Jared the other morning. About how the time would be up soon, and then I'd go back to the forest. About how I'd promised that she and Seth would return to the pack when the Cullens were gone… I want to stay with you, she told me. The shock shot through my legs, locking my joints. She blew past me and then put on the brakes. Slowly, she walked back to where I was frozen in place. I won't be a pain, I swear. I won't follow you around. You can go wherever you want, and I'll go where I want. You'll only have to put up with me when we're both wolves. She paced back and forth in front of me, swishing her long gray tail nervously. And, as I'm planning on quitting as soon as I can manage it … maybe that won't be so often. I didn't know what to say. I'm happier now, as a part of your pack, than I have been in years. I want to stay, too, Seth thought quietly. I hadn't realized he'd been paying much attention to us as he ran the perimeter. I like this pack. Hey, now! Seth, this isn't going to be a pack much longer. I tried to put my thoughts together so they would convince him. We've got a purpose now, but when…after that's over, I'm just going to go wolf Seth, you need a purpose. You're a good kid. You're the kind of person who always has a crusade. And there's no way you're leaving La Push now. You're going to graduate from high school and do something with your life. You're going to take care of Sue. My issues are not going to mess up your future. But— Jacob is right, Leah seconded. You're agreeing with me? Of course. But none of that applies to me. I was on my way out, anyway. I'll get a job somewhere away from La Push. Maybe take some courses at a community college. Get into yoga and meditation to work on my temper issues… And stay a part of this pack for the sake of my mental well-being. Jacob—you can see how that makes sense, right? I won't bother you, you won't bother me, everyone is happy. I turned back and started loping slowly toward the west. This is a bit much to deal with, Leah. Let me think about it, 'kay? Sure. Take your time. It took us longer to make the run back. I wasn't trying for speed. I was just trying to concentrate enough that I wouldn't plow headfirst into a tree. Seth was grumbling a little bit in the back of my head, but I was able to ignore him. He knew I was right. He wasn't going to abandon his mom. He would go back to La Push and protect the tribe like he should. But I couldn't see Leah doing that. And that was just plain scary. A pack of the two of us? No matter the physical distance, I couldn't imagine the…the intimacy of that situation. I wondered if she'd really thought it through, or if she was just desperate to stay free. Leah didn't say anything as I chewed it over. It was like she was trying to prove how easy it would be if it was just us. We ran into a herd of black-tailed deer just as the sun was coming up, brightening the clouds a little bit behind us. Leah sighed internally but didn't hesitate. Her lunge was clean and efficient—graceful, even. She took down the largest one, the buck, before the startled animal fully understood the danger. Not to be outdone, I swooped down on the next largest deer, snapping her neck between my jaws quickly, so she wouldn't feel unnecessary pain. I could feel Leah's disgust warring with her hunger, and I tried to make it easier for her by letting the wolf in me have my head. I'd lived all-wolf for long enough that I knew how to be the animal completely, to see his way and think his way. I let the practical instincts take over, letting her feel that, too. She hesitated for a second, but then, tentatively, she seemed to reach out with her mind and try to see my way. It felt very strange—our minds were more closely linked than they had ever been before, because we both were trying to think together. Strange, but it helped her. Her teeth cut through the fur and skin of her kill's shoulder, tearing away a thick slab of streaming flesh. Rather than wince away as her human thoughts wanted to, she let her wolf-self react instinctively. It was kind of a numbing thing, a thoughtless thing. It let her eat in peace. It was easy for me to do the same. And I was glad I hadn't forgotten this. This would be my life again soon. Was Leah going to be a part of that life? A week ago, I would've found that idea beyond horrifying. I wouldn't've been able to stand it. But I knew her better now. And, relieved from the constant pain, she wasn't the same wolf. Not the same girl. We ate together until we both were full. Thanks, she told me later as she was cleaning her muzzle and paws against the wet grass. I didn't bother; it had just started to drizzle and we had to swim the river again on our way back. I'd get clean enough. That wasn't so bad, thinking your way. You're welcome. Seth was dragging when we hit the perimeter. I told him to get some sleep; Leah and I would take over the patrol. Seth's mind faded into unconsciousness just seconds later. You headed back to the bloodsuckers? Leah asked. Maybe. It's hard for you to be there, but hard to stay away, too. I know how that feels. You know, Leah, you might want to think a little bit about the future, about what you really want to do. My head is not going to be the happiest place on earth. And you'll have to suffer right along with me. She thought about how to answer me. Wow, this is going to sound bad. But, honestly, it will be easier to deal with your pain than face mine. Fair enough. I know its going to be bad for you, Jacob. I understand that—maybe better than you think. I don't like her, but…she's your Sam. She's everything you want and everything you can't have. I couldn't answer. I know it's worse for you. At least Sam is happy. At least he's alive and well. I love him enough that I want that. I want him to have what's best for him. She sighed. I just don't want to stick around to watch. Do we need to talk about this? I think we do. Because I want you to know that I won't make it worse for you. Hell, maybe I'll even help. I wasn't born a compassionless shrew. I used to be sort of nice, you know. My memory doesn't go that far back. We both laughed once. I'm sorry about this, Jacob. I'm sorry you're in pain. I'm sorry it's getting worse and not better. Thanks, Leah. She thought about the things that were worse, the black pictures in my head, while I tried to tune her out without much success. She was able to look at them with some distance, some perspective, and I had to admit that this was helpful. I could imagine that maybe I would be able to see it that way, too, in a few years. She saw the funny side of the daily irritations that came from hanging out around vampires. She liked my ragging on Rosalie, chuckling internally and even running through a few blonde jokes in her mind that I might be able to work in. But then her thoughts turned serious, lingering on Rosalie's face in a way that confused me. You know what's crazy? she asked. Well, almost everything is crazy right now. But what do you mean? That blond vampire you hate so much—I totally get her perspective. For a second I thought she was making a joke that was in very poor taste. And then, when I realized she was serious, the fury that ripped through me was hard to control. It was a good thing we'd spread out to run our watch. If she'd been within biting distance … Hold up! Let me explain! Don't want to hear it. I'm outta here. Wait! Wait! she pleaded as I tried to calm myself enough to phase back. C'mon, Jake! Leah, this isn't really the best way to convince me that I want to spend more time with you in the future. Yeesh! What an overreaction. You don't even know what I'm talking about. So what are you talking about? And then she was suddenly the pain-hardened Leah from before. I'm talking about being a genetic dead end, Jacob. The vicious edge to her words left me floundering. I hadn't expected to have my anger trumped. I don't understand. You would, if you weren't just like the rest of them. If my "female stuff"—she thought the words with a hard, sarcastic tone—didn't send you running for cover just like any stupid male, so you could actually pay attention to what it all means. Oh. Yeah, so none of us like to think about that stuff with her. Who would? Of course I remembered Leah's panic that first month after she joined the pack—and I remembered cringing away from it just like everyone else. Because she couldn't be pregnant—not unless there was some really freaky religious immaculate crap going on. She hadn't been with anyone since Sam. And then, when the weeks dragged on and nothing turned into more nothing, she'd realized that her body wasn't following the normal patterns anymore. The horror—what was she now? Had her body changed because she'd become a werewolf? Or had she become a werewolf because her body was wrong? The only female werewolf in the history of forever. Was that because she wasn't as female as she should be? None of us had wanted to deal with that breakdown. Obviously, it wasn't like we could empathize. You know why Sam thinks we imprint, she thought, calmer now. Sure, To carry on the line. Right. To make a hunch of new little werewolves. Survival of the species, genetic override. You're drawn to the person who gives you the best chance to pass on the wolf gene. I waited for her to tell me where she was going with this. If I was any good for that, Sam would have been drawn to me. Her pain was enough that I broke stride under it. But I'm not. There's something wrong with me. I don't have the ability to pass on the gene, apparently, despite my stellar bloodlines. So I become a freak—the girlie-wolf—good for nothing else. I'm a genetic dead end and we both know it. We do not, I argued with her. That's just Sam's theory. Imprinting happens, but we don't know why. Billy thinks it's something else. I know, I know. He thinks you're imprinting to make stronger wolves. Because you and Sam are such humongous monsters—bigger than our fathers. But either way, I'm still not a candidate. I'm … I'm menopausal. I'm twenty years old and I'm menopausal. Ugh. I so didn't want to have this conversation. You don't know that, Leah. It's probably just the whole frozen-in-time thing. When you quit your wolf and start getting older again, I'm sure things will … er…pick right back up. I might think that—except that no one's imprinting on me, notwithstanding my impressive pedigree. You know, she added thoughtfully, if you weren't around, Seth would probably have the best claim to being Alpha—through his blood, at least. Of course, no one would ever consider me… . You really want to imprint, or be imprinted on, or whichever? I demanded. What's wrong with going out and falling in love like a normal person, Leah? Imprinting is just another way of getting your choices taken away from you. Sam, Jared, Paul, Quil…they don't seem to mind. None of them have a mind of their own. You don't want to imprint? Hell, no! That's just because you're already in love with her. That would go away, you know, if you imprinted. You wouldn't have to hurt over her anymore. Do you want to forget the way you feel about Sam? She deliberated for a moment. I think I do. I sighed. She was in a healthier place than I was. But back to my original point, Jacob. I understand why your blond vampire is so cold—in the figurative sense. She's focused. She's got her eyes on the prize, right? Because you always want the very most what you can never, ever have. You would act like Rosalie? You would murder someone—because that's what she's doing, making sure no one interferes with Bella's death—you would do that to have a baby? Since when are you a breeder? I just want the options I don't have, Jacob. Maybe, if there was nothing wrong with me, I would never give it a thought. You would kill for that? I demanded, not letting her escape my question. That's not what she's doing. I think it's more like she's living vicariously. And…if Bella asked me to help her with this … She paused, considering. Even though I don't think too much of her, I'd probably do the same as the bloodsucker. A loud snarl ripped through my teeth. Because, if it was turned around, I'd want Bella to do that for me. And so would Rosalie. We'd both do it her way. Ugh! You're as bad as they are! That's the funny thing about knowing you can't have something. It makes you desperate. And…that's my limit. Right there. This conversation is over. Fine. It wasn't enough that she'd agreed to stop. I wanted a stronger termination than that. I was only about a mile from where I'd left my clothes, so I phased back to human and walked. I didn't think about our conversation. Not because there wasn't anything to think about, but because I couldn't stand it. I would not see it that way—but it was harder to keep from doing that when Leah had put the thoughts and emotions straight into my head. Yeah, I wasn't running with her when this was finished. She could go be miserable in La Push. One little Alpha command before I left for good wasn't going to kill anybody. It was real early when I got to the house. Bella was probably still asleep. I figured I'd poke my head in, see what was going on, give 'em the green light to go hunting, and then find a patch of grass soft enough to sleep on while human. I wasn't phasing back until Leah was asleep. But there was a lot of low mumbling going on inside the house, so maybe Bella wasn't sleeping. And then I heard the machinery sound from upstairs again—the X-ray? Great. It looked like day four on the countdown was starting off with a bang. Alice opened the door for me before I could walk in. She nodded. "Hey, wolf." "Hey, shortie. What's going on upstairs?" The big room was empty— all the murmurs were on the second floor. She shrugged her pointy little shoulders. "Maybe another break." She tried to say the words casually, but I could see the flames in the very back of her eyes. Edward and I weren't the only ones who were burning over this. Alice loved Bella, too. "Another rib?" I asked hoarsely. "No. Pelvis this time." Funny how it kept hitting me, like each new thing was a surprise. When was I going to stop being surprised? Each new disaster seemed kinda obvious in hindsight. Alice was staring at my hands, watching them tremble. Then we were listening to Rosalie's voice upstairs. "See, I told you I didn't hear a crack. You need your ears checked, Edward." There was no answer. Alice made a face. "Edward's going to end up ripping Rose into small pieces, I think. I'm surprised she doesn't see that. Or maybe she thinks Emmett will be able to stop him." "I'll take Emmett," I offered. "You can help Edward with the ripping part." Alice half-smiled. The procession came down the stairs then—Edward had Bella this time. She was gripping her cup of blood in both hands, and her face was white. I could see that, though he compensated for every tiny movement of his body to keep from jostling her, she was hurting. "Jake," she whispered, and she smiled through the pain. I stared at her, saying nothing. Edward placed Bella carefully on her couch and sat on the floor by her head. I wondered briefly why they didn't leave her upstairs, and then decided at once that it must be Bella's idea. She'd want to act like things were normal, avoid the hospital setup. And he was humoring her. Naturally. Carlisle came down slowly, the last one, his face creased with worry. It made him look old enough to be a doctor for once. "Carlisle," I said. "We went halfway to Seattle. There's no sign of the pack. You're good to go." "Thank you, Jacob. This is good timing. There's much that we need." His black eyes flickered to the cup that Bella was holding so tight. "Honestly, I think you're safe to take more than three. I'm pretty positive that Sam is concentrating on La Push." Carlisle nodded in agreement. It surprised me how willingly he took my advice. "If you think so. Alice, Esme, Jasper, and I will go. Then Alice can take Emmett and Rosa—" "Not a chance," Rosalie hissed. "Emmett can go with you now." "You should hunt," Carlisle said in a gentle voice. His tone didn't soften hers. "I'll hunt when he does," she growled, jerking her head toward Edward and then flipping her hair back. Carlisle sighed. Jasper and Emmett were down the stairs in a flash, and Alice joined them by the glass back door in the same second. Esme flitted to Alice's side. Carlisle put his hand on my arm. The icy touch did not feel good, but I didn't jerk away. I held still, half in surprise, and half because I didn't want to hurt his feelings. "Thank you," he said again, and then he darted out the door with the other four. My eyes followed them as they flew across the lawn and then disappeared before I took another breath. Their needs must have been more urgent than I'd imagined. There was no sound for a minute. I could feel someone glaring at me, and I knew who it would be. I'd been planning to take off and get some Z's, but the chance to ruin Rosalie's morning seemed too good to pass up. So I sauntered over to the armchair next to the one Rosalie had and settled in, sprawling out so that my head was tilted toward Bella and my left foot was near Rosalie's face. "Ew. Someone put the dog out," she murmured, wrinkling her nose. "Have you heard this one, Psycho? How do a blonde's brain cells die?" She didn't say anything. "Well?" I asked. "Do you know the punch line or not?" She looked pointedly at the TV and ignored me. "Has she heard it?" I asked Edward. There was no humor on his tense face—he didn't move his eyes from Bella. But he said, "No." "Awesome. So you'll enjoy this, bloodsucker—a blonde's brain cells die alone." Rosalie still didn't look at me. "I have killed a hundred times more often than you have, you disgusting beast. Don't forget that." "Someday, Beauty Queen, you're going to get tired of just threatening me. I'm really looking forward to that." "Enough, Jacob," Bella said. I looked down, and she was scowling at me. It looked like yesterday's good mood was long gone. Well, I didn't want to bug her. "You want me to take off?" I offered. Before I could hope—or fear—that she'd finally gotten tired of me, she blinked, and her frown disappeared. She seemed totally shocked that I would come to that conclusion. "No! Of course not." I sighed, and I heard Edward sigh very quietly, too. I knew he wished she'd get over me, too. Too bad he'd never ask her to do anything that might make her unhappy. "You look tired," Bella commented. "Dead beat," I admitted. "I'd like to beat you dead," Rosalie muttered, too low for Bella to hear. I just slumped deeper into the chair, getting comfortable. My bare foot dangled closer to Rosalie, and she stiffened. After a few minutes Bella asked Rosalie for a refill. I felt the wind as Rosalie blew upstairs to get her some more blood. It was really quiet. Might as well take a nap, I figured. And then Edward said, "Did you say something?" in a puzzled tone. Strange. Because no one had said anything, and because Edward's hearing was as good as mine, and he should have known that. He was staring at Bella, and she was staring back. They both looked confused. "Me?" she asked after a second. "I didn't say anything." He moved onto his knees, leaning forward over her, his expression suddenly intense in a whole different way. His black eyes focused on her face. "What are you thinking about right now?" She stared at him blankly. "Nothing. What's going on?" "What were you thinking about a minute ago?" he asked. "Just…Esme's island. And feathers." Sounded like total gibberish to me, but then she blushed, and I figured I was better off not knowing. "Say something else," he whispered. "Like what? Edward, what's going on?" His face changed again, and he did something that made my mouth fall open with a pop. I heard a gasp behind me, and I knew that Rosalie was back, and just as flabbergasted as I was. Edward, very lightly, put both of his hands against her huge, round stomach. "The f—" He swallowed. "It…the baby likes the sound of your voice." There was one short beat of total silence. I could not move a muscle, even to blink. Then— "Holy crow, you can hear him!" Bella shouted. In the next second, she winced. Edward's hand moved to the top peak of her belly and gently rubbed the spot where it must have kicked her. "Shh," he murmured. "You startled it…him." Her eyes got all wide and full of wonder. She patted the side of her stomach. "Sorry, baby." Edward was listening hard, his head tilted toward the bulge. "What's he thinking now?" she demanded eagerly. "It…he or she, is…" He paused and looked up into her eyes. His eyes were filled with a similar awe—only his were more careful and grudging. "He's happy," Edward said in an incredulous voice. Her breath caught, and it was impossible not to see the fanatical gleam in her eyes. The adoration and the devotion. Big, fat tears overflowed her eyes and ran silently down her face and over her smiling lips. As he stared at her, his face was not frightened or angry or burning or any of the other expressions he'd worn since their return. He was marveling with her. "Of course you're happy, pretty baby, of course you are," she crooned, rubbing her stomach while the tears washed her cheeks. "How could you not be, all safe and warm and loved? I love you so much, little EJ, of course you're happy." "What did you call him?" Edward asked curiously. She blushed again. "I sort of named him. I didn't think you would want…well, you know." "EJ?" "Your father's name was Edward, too." "Yes, it was. What—?" He paused and then said, "Hmm." "What?" "He likes my voice, too." "Of course he does." Her tone was almost gloating now. "You have the most beautiful voice in the universe. Who wouldn't love it?" "Do you have a backup plan?" Rosalie asked then, leaning over the back of the sofa with the same wondering, gloating look on her face that was on Bella's. "What if he's a she?" Bella wiped the back of her hand under her wet eyes. "I kicked a few things around. Playing with Renee and Esme. I was thinking…Ruh-nezmay." "Ruhnezmay?" "R-e-n-e-s-m-e-e. Too weird?" "No, I like it," Rosalie assured her. Their heads were close together, gold and mahogany. "It's beautiful. And one of a kind, so that fits." "I still think he's an Edward." Edward was staring off into space, his face blank as he listened. "What?" Bella asked, her face just glowing away. "What's he thinking now?" At first he didn't answer, and then—shocking all the rest of us again, three distinct and separate gasps—he laid his ear tenderly against her belly. "He loves you," Edward whispered, sounding dazed. "He absolutely adores you." In that moment, I knew that I was alone. All alone. I wanted to kick myself when I realized how much I'd been counting on that loathsome vampire. How stupid—as if you could ever trust a leech! Of course he would betray me in the end. I'd counted on him to be on my side. I'd counted on him to suffer more than I suffered. And, most of all, I'd counted on him to hate that revolting thing killing Bella more than I hated it. I'd trusted him with that. Yet now they were together, the two of them bent over the budding, invisible monster with their eyes lit up like a happy family. And I was all alone with my hatred and the pain that was so bad it was like being tortured. Like being dragged slowly across a bed of razor blades. Pain so bad you'd take death with a smile just to get away from it. The heat unlocked my frozen muscles, and I was on my feet. All three of their heads snapped up, and I watched my pain ripple across Edward's face as he trespassed in my head again. "Ahh," he choked. I didn't know what I was doing; I stood there, trembling, ready to bolt for the very first escape that I could think of. Moving like the strike of a snake, Edward darted to a small end table and ripped something from the drawer there. He tossed it at me, and I caught the object reflexively. "Go, Jacob. Get away from here." He didn't say it harshly—he threw the words at me like they were a life preserver. He was helping me find the escape I was dying for. The object in my hand was a set of car keys. 17. WHAT DO I LOOK LIKE? THE WIZARD OF OZ? YOU NEED A BRAIN? YOU NEED A HEART? GO AHEAD. TAKE MINE. TAKE EVERYTHING I HAVE. I SORT OF HAD A PLAN AS I RAN TO THE CULLENS' GARAGE. The second part of it was totaling the bloodsucker's car on my way back. So I was at a loss when I mashed the button on the keyless remote, and it was not his Volvo that beeped and flashed its lights for me. It was another car—a standout even in the long line of vehicles that were mostly all drool-worthy in their own ways. Did he actually mean to give me the keys to an Aston Martin Vanquish, or was that an accident? I didn't pause to think about it, or if this would change that second part of my plan. I just threw myself into the silky leather seat and cranked the engine while my knees were still crunched up under the steering wheel. The sound of the motor's purr might have made me moan another day, but right now it was all I could do to concentrate enough to put it in drive. I found the seat release and shoved myself back as my foot rammed the pedal down. The car felt almost airborne as it leaped forward. It only took seconds to race through the tight, winding drive. The car responded to me like my thoughts were steering rather than my hands. As I blew out of the green tunnel and onto the highway, I caught a fleeting glimpse of Leah's gray face peering uneasily through the ferns. For half a second, I wondered what she'd think, and then I realized that I didn't care. I turned south, because I had no patience today for ferries or traffic or anything else that meant I might have to lift my foot off the pedal. In a sick way, it was my lucky day. If by lucky you meant taking a well-traveled highway at two hundred without so much as seeing one cop, even in the thirty-mile-an-hour speed-trap towns. What a letdown. A little chase action might have been nice, not to mention that the license plate info would bring the heat down on the leech. Sure, he'd buy his way out of it, but it might have been just a little inconvenient for him. The only sign of surveillance I came across was just a hint of dark brown fur flitting through the woods, running parallel to me for a few miles on the south side of Forks. Quil, it looked like. He must have seen me, too, because he disappeared after a minute without raising an alarm. Again, I almost wondered what his story would be before I remembered that I didn't care. I raced around the long U-shaped highway, heading for the biggest city I could find. That was the first part of my plan. It seemed to take forever, probably because I was still on the razor blades, but it actually didn't even take two hours before I was driving north into the undefined sprawl that was part Tacoma and part Seattle. I slowed down then, because I really wasn't trying to kill any innocent bystanders. This was a stupid plan. It wasn't going to work. But, as I'd searched my head for any way at all to get away from the pain, what Leah'd said today had popped in there. That would go away, you know, if you imprinted. You wouldn't have to hurt over her anymore. Seemed like maybe getting your choices taken away from you wasn't the very worst thing in the world. Maybe feeling like this was the very worst thing in the world. But I'd seen all the girls in La Push and up on the Makah rez and in Forks. I needed a wider hunting range. So how do you look for a random soul mate in a crowd? Well, first, I needed a crowd. So I tooled around, looking for a likely spot. I passed a couple of malls, which probably would've been pretty good places to find girls my age, but I couldn't make myself stop. Did I want to imprint on some girl who hung out in a mall all day? I kept going north, and it got more and more crowded. Eventually, I found a big park full of kids and families and skateboards and bikes and kites and picnics and the whole bit. I hadn't noticed till now—it was a nice day. Sun and all that. People were out celebrating the blue sky. I parked across two handicapped spots—just begging for a ticket— and joined the crowd. I walked around for what felt like hours. Long enough that the sun changed sides in the sky. I stared into the face of every girl who passed anywhere near me, making myself really look, noticing who was pretty and who had blue eyes and who looked good in braces and who had way too much makeup on. I tried to find something interesting about each face, so that I would know for sure that I'd really tried. Things like: This one had a really straight nose; that one should pull her hair out of her eyes; this one could do lipstick ads if the rest of her face was as perfect as her mouth… Sometimes they stared back. Sometimes they looked scared—like they were thinking, Who is this big freak glaring at me? Sometimes I thought they looked kind of interested, but maybe that was just my ego running wild. Either way, nothing. Even when I met the eyes of the girl who was— no contest—the hottest girl in the park and probably in the city, and she stared right back with a speculation that looked like interest, I felt nothing. Just the same desperate drive to find a way out of the pain. As time went on, I started noticing all the wrong things. Bella things. This one's hair was the same color. That one's eyes were sort of shaped the same. This one's cheekbones cut across her face in just the same way. That one had the same little crease between her eyes—which made me wonder what she was worrying about… That was when I gave up. Because it was beyond stupid to think that I had picked exactly the right place and time and I was going to simply walk into my soul mate just because I was so desperate to. It wouldn't make sense to find her here, anyway. If Sam was right, the best place to find my genetic match would be in La Push. And, clearly, no one there fit the bill. If Billy was right, then who knew? What made for a stronger wolf? I wandered back to the car and then slumped against the hood and played with the keys. Maybe I was what Leah thought she was. Some kind of dead end that shouldn't be passed on to another generation. Or maybe it was just that my life was a big, cruel joke, and there was no escape from the punch line. "Hey, you okay? Hello? You there, with the stolen car." It took me a second to realize that the voice was talking to me, and then another second to decide to raise my head. A familiar-looking girl was staring at me, her expression kind of anxious. I knew why I recognized her face—I'd already catalogued this one. Light red-gold hair, fair skin, a few gold-colored freckles sprinkled across her cheeks and nose, and eyes the color of cinnamon. "If you're feeling that remorseful over boosting the car," she said, smiling so that a dimple popped out in her chin, "you could always turn yourself in." "It's borrowed, not stolen," I snapped. My voice sounded horrible— like I'd been crying or something. Embarrassing. "Sure, that'll hold up in court." I glowered. "You need something?" "Not really. I was kidding about the car, you know. It's just that…you look really upset about something. Oh, hey, I'm Lizzie." She held out her hand. I looked at it until she let it fall. "Anyway…she said awkwardly, "I was just wondering if I could help. Seemed like you were looking for someone before." She gestured toward the park and shrugged. "Yeah." She waited. I sighed. "I don't need any help. She's not here." "Oh. Sorry." "Me, too," I muttered. I looked at the girl again. Lizzie. She was pretty. Nice enough to try to help a grouchy stranger who must seem nuts. Why couldn't she be the one? Why did everything have to be so freaking complicated? Nice girl, pretty, and sort of funny. Why not? "This is a beautiful car," she said. "It's really a shame they're not making them anymore. I mean, the Vantage's body styling is gorgeous, too, but there's just something about the Vanquish…" Nice girl who knew cars. Wow. I stared at her face harder, wishing I knew how to make it work. C'mon, Jake—imprint already. "How's it drive?" she asked. "Like you wouldn't believe," I told her. She grinned her one-dimple smile, clearly pleased to have dragged a halfway civil response out of me, and I gave her a reluctant smile back. But her smile did nothing about the sharp, cutting blades that raked up and down my body. No matter how much I wanted it to, my life was not going to come together like that. I wasn't in that healthier place where Leah was headed. I wasn't going to be able to fall in love like a normal person. Not when I was bleeding over someone else. Maybe—if it was ten years from now and Bella's heart was long dead and I'd hauled myself through the whole grieving process and come out in one piece again—maybe then I could offer Lizzie a ride in a fast car and talk makes and models and get to know something about her and see if I liked her as a person. But that wasn't going to happen now. Magic wasn't going to save me. I was just going to have to take the torture like a man. Suck it up. Lizzie waited, maybe hoping I was going to offer her that ride. Or maybe not. "I'd better get this car back to the guy I borrowed it from," I muttered. She smiled again. "Glad to hear you're going straight." "Yeah, you convinced me." She watched me get in the car, still sort of concerned. I probably looked like someone who was about to drive off a cliff. Which maybe I would've, if that kind of move'd work for a werewolf. She waved once, her eyes trailing after the car. At first, I drove more sanely on the way back. I wasn't in a rush. I didn't want to go where I was going. Back to that house, back to that forest. Back to the pain I'd run from. Back to being absolutely alone with it. Okay, that was melodramatic. I wouldn't be all alone, but that was a bad thing. Leah and Seth would have to suffer with me. I was glad Seth wouldn't have to suffer long. Kid didn't deserve to have his peace of mind ruined. Leah didn't, either, but at least it was something she understood. Nothing new about pain for Leah. I sighed big as I thought about what Leah wanted from me, because I knew now that she was going to get it. I was still pissed at her, but I couldn't ignore the fact that I could make her life easier. And—now that I knew her better—I thought she would probably do this for me, if our positions were reversed. It would be interesting, at the very least, and strange, too, to have Leah as a companion—as a friend. We were going to get under each other's skin a lot, that was for sure. She wouldn't be one to let me wallow, but I thought that was a good thing. I'd probably need someone to kick my butt now and then. But when it came right down to it, she was really the only friend who had any chance of understanding what I was going through now. I thought of the hunt this morning, and how close our minds had been for that one moment in time. It hadn't been a bad thing. Different. A little scary, a little awkward. But also nice in a weird way. I didn't have to be all alone. And I knew Leah was strong enough to face with me the months that were coming. Months and years. It made me tired to think about it. I felt like I was staring out across an ocean that I was going to have to swim from shore to shore before I could rest again. So much time coming, and then so little time before it started. Before I was flung into that ocean. Three and a half more days, and here I was, wasting that little bit of time I had. I started driving too fast again. I saw Sam and Jared, one on either side of the road like sentinels, as I raced up the road toward Forks. They were well hidden in the thick branches, but I was expecting them, and I knew what to look for. I nodded as I blew past them, not bothering to wonder what they made of my day trip. I nodded to Leah and Seth, too, as I cruised up the Cullens' driveway. It was starting to get dark, and the clouds were thick on this side of the sound, but I saw their eyes glitter in the glow of the headlights. I would explain to them later. There'd be plenty of time for that. It was a surprise to find Edward waiting for me in the garage. I hadn't seen him away from Bella in days. I could tell from his face that nothing bad had happened to her. In fact, he looked more peaceful than before. My stomach tightened as I remembered where that peace came from. It was too bad that—with all my brooding—I'd forgotten to wreck the car. Oh well. I probably wouldn't have been able to stand hurting this car, anyway. Maybe he'd guessed as much, and that's why he'd lent it to me in the first place. "A few things, Jacob," he said as soon as I cut the engine. I took a deep breath and held it for a minute. Then, slowly, I got out of the car and threw the keys to him. "Thanks for the loan," I said sourly. Apparently, it would have to be repaid. "What do you want now?" "Firstly… I know how averse you are to using your authority with your pack, but…" I blinked, astonished that he would even dream of starting in on this one. "What?" "If you can't or won't control Leah, then I—" "Leah?" I interrupted, speaking through my teeth. "What happened?" Edward's face was hard. "She came up to see why you'd left so abruptly. I tried to explain. I suppose it might not have come out right." "What did she do?" "She phased to her human form and—" "Really?" I interrupted again, shocked this time. I couldn't process that. Leah letting her guard down right in the mouth of the enemy's lair? "She wanted to…speak to Bella." "To Bella?" Edward got all hissy then. "I won't let Bella be upset like that again. I don't care how justified Leah thinks she is! I didn't hurt her—of course I wouldn't—but I'll throw her out of the house if it happens again. I'll launch her right across the river—" "Hold on. What did she say?" None of this was making any sense. Edward took a deep breath, composing himself. "Leah was unnecessarily harsh. I'm not going to pretend that I understand why Bella is unable to let go of you, but I do know that she does not behave this way to hurt you. She suffers a great deal over the pain she's inflicting on you, and on me, by asking you to stay. What Leah said was uncalled for. Bella's been crying—" "Wait—Leah was yelling at Bella about me?" He nodded one sharp nod. "You were quite vehemently championed." Whoa. "I didn't ask her to do that." "I know." I rolled my eyes. Of course he knew. He knew everything. But that was really something about Leah. Who would have believed it? Leah walking into the bloodsuckers' place human to complain about how I was being treated. "I can't promise to control Leah," I told him. "I won't do that. But I'll talk to her, okay? And I don't think there'll be a repeat. Leah's not one to hold back, so she probably got it all off her chest today." "I would say so." "Anyway, I'll talk to Bella about it, too. She doesn't need to feel bad. This one's on me." "I already told her that." "Of course you did. Is she okay?" "She's sleeping now. Rose is with her." So the psycho was "Rose" now. He'd completely crossed over to the dark side. He ignored that thought, continuing with a more complete answer to my question. "She's…better in some ways. Aside from Leah's tirade and the resulting guilt." Better. Because Edward was hearing the monster and everything was all lovey-dovey now. Fantastic. "It's a bit more than that," he murmured. "Now that I can make out the child's thoughts, it's apparent that he or she has remarkably developed mental facilities. He can understand us, to an extent." My mouth fell open. "Are you serious?" "Yes. He seems to have a vague sense of what hurts her now. He's trying to avoid that, as much as possible. He … loves her. Already." I stared at Edward, feeling sort of like my eyes might pop out of their sockets. Underneath that disbelief, I could see right away that this was the critical factor. This was what had changed Edward—that the monster had convinced him of this love. He couldn't hate what loved Bella. It was probably why he couldn't hate me, either. There was a big difference, though. I wasn't killing her. Edward went on, acting like he hadn't heard all that. "The progress, I believe, is more than we'd judged. When Carlisle returns—" "They're not back?" I cut in sharply. I thought of Sam and Jared, watching the road. Would they get curious as to what was going on? "Alice and Jasper are. Carlisle sent all the blood he was able to acquire, but it wasn't as much as he was hoping for—Bella will use up this supply in another day the way her appetite has grown. Carlisle stayed to try another source. I don't think that's necessary now, but he wants to be covered for any eventuality." "Why isn't it necessary? If she needs more?" I could tell he was watching and listening to my reaction carefully as he explained. "I'm trying to persuade Carlisle to deliver the baby as soon as he is back." "What?" "The child seems to be attempting to avoid rough movements, but it's difficult. He's become too big. It's madness to wait, when he's clearly developed beyond what Carlisle had guessed. Bella's too fragile to delay." I kept getting my legs knocked out from under me. First, counting on Edward's hatred of the thing so much. Now, I'd realized that I thought of those four days as a sure thing. I'd banked on them. The endless ocean of grief that waited stretched out before me. I tried to catch my breath. Edward waited. I stared at his face while I recovered, recognizing another change there. "You think she's going to make it," I whispered. "Yes. That was the other thing I wanted to talk to you about." I couldn't say anything. After a minute, he went on. "Yes," he said again. "Waiting, as we have been, for the child to be ready, that was insanely dangerous. At any moment it could have been too late. But if we're proactive about this, if we act quickly, I see no reason why it should not go well. Knowing the child's mind is unbelievably helpful. Thankfully, Bella and Rose agree with me. Now that I've convinced them it's safe for the child if we proceed, there's nothing to keep this from working." "When will Carlisle be back?" I asked, still whispering. I hadn't got my breath back yet. "By noon tomorrow." My knees buckled. I had to grab the car to hold myself up. Edward reached out like he was offering support, but then he thought better of it and dropped his hands. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I am truly sorry for the pain this causes you, Jacob. Though you hate me, I must admit that I don't feel the same about you. I think of you as a…a brother in many ways. A comrade in arms, at the very least. I regret your suffering more than you realize. But Bella is going to survive"—when he said that his voice was fierce, even violent—"and I know that's what really matters to you." He was probably right. It was hard to tell. My head was spinning. "So I hate to do this now, while you're already dealing with too much, but, clearly, there is little time. I have to ask you for something— to beg, if I must." "I don't have anything left," I choked out. He lifted his hand again, as if to put it on my shoulder, but then let it drop like before and sighed. "I know how much you have given," he said quietly. "But this is something you do have, and only you. I'm asking this of the true Alpha, Jacob. I'm asking this of Ephraim's heir." I was way past being able to respond. "I want your permission to deviate from what we agreed to in our treaty with Ephraim. I want you to grant us an exception. I want your permission to save her life. You know I'll do it anyway, but I don't want to break faith with you if there is any way to avoid it. We never intended to go back on our word, and we don't do it lightly now. I want your understanding, Jacob, because you know exactly why we do this. I want the alliance between our families to survive when this is over." I tried to swallow. Sam, I thought. It's Sam you want. "No. Sam's authority is assumed. It belongs to you. You'll never take it from him, but no one can rightfully agree to what I'm asking except for you." It's not my decision. "It is, Jacob, and you know it. Your word on this will condemn us or absolve us. Only you can give this to me." I can't think. I don't know. "We don't have much time." He glanced back toward the house. No, there was no time. My few days had become a few hours. I don't know. Let me think. Just give me a minute here, okay? "Yes." I started walking to the house, and he followed. Crazy how easy it was, walking through the dark with a vampire right beside me. It didn't feel unsafe, or even uncomfortable, really. It felt like walking next to anybody. Well, anybody who smelled bad. There was a movement in the brush at the edge of the big lawn, and then a low whimper. Seth shrugged through the ferns and loped over to us. "Hey, kid," I muttered. He dipped his head, and I patted his shoulder. "S'all cool," I lied. "I'll tell you about it later. Sorry to take off on you like that." He grinned at me. "Hey, tell your sister to back off now, okay? Enough." Seth nodded once. I shoved against his shoulder this time. "Get back to work. I'll spell you in a bit." Seth leaned against me, shoving back, and then he galloped into the trees. "He has one of the purest, sincerest, kindest minds I've ever heard," Edward murmured when he was out of sight. "You're lucky to have his thoughts to share." "I know that," I grunted. We started toward the house, and both of our heads snapped up when we heard the sound of someone sucking through a straw. Edward was in a hurry then. He darted up the porch stairs and was gone. "Bella, love, I thought you were sleeping," I heard him say. "I'm sorry, I wouldn't have left." "Don't worry. I just got so thirsty—it woke me up. It's a good thing Carlisle is bringing more. This kid is going to need it when he gets out of me." "True. That's a good point." "I wonder if he'll want anything else," she mused. "I suppose we'll find out." I walked through the door. Alice said, "Finally," and Bella's eyes flashed to me. That infuriating, irresistible smile broke across her face for one second. Then it faltered, and her face fell. Her lips puckered, like she was trying not to cry. I wanted to punch Leah right in her stupid mouth. "Hey, Bells," I said quickly. "How ya doing?" "I'm fine," she said. "Big day today, huh? Lots of new stuff." "You don't have to do that, Jacob." "Don't know what you're talking about," I said, going to sit on the arm of the sofa by her head. Edward had the floor there already. She gave me a reproachful look. "I'm so s—" she started to say. I pinched her lips together between my thumb and finger. "Jake," she mumbled, trying to pull my hand away. Her attempt was so weak it was hard to believe that she was really trying. I shook my head. "You can talk when you're not being stupid." "Fine, I won't say it," it sounded like she mumbled. I pulled my hand away. "Sorry!" she finished quickly, and then grinned. I rolled my eyes and then smiled back at her. When I stared into her eyes, I saw everything that I'd been looking for in the park. Tomorrow, she'd be someone else. But hopefully alive, and that was what counted, right? She'd look at me with the same eyes, sort of. Smile with the same lips, almost. She'd still know me better than anyone who didn't have full access to the inside of my head. Leah might be an interesting companion, maybe even a true friend— someone who would stand up for me. But she wasn't my best friend the way that Bella was. Aside from the impossible love I felt for Bella, there was also that other bond, and it ran bone deep. Tomorrow, she'd be my enemy. Or she'd be my ally. And, apparently, that distinction was up to me. I sighed. Fine! I thought, giving up the very last thing I had to give. It made me feel hollow. Go ahead. Save her. As Ephraim's heir, you have my permission, my word, that this will not violate the treaty. The others will just have to blame me. You were right—they can't deny that it's my right to agree to this. "Thank you." Edward's whisper was low enough that Bella didn't hear anything. But the words were so fervent that, from the corner of my eye, I saw the other vampires turning to stare. "So," Bella asked, working to be casual. "How was your day?" "Great. Went for a drive. Hung out in the park." "Sounds nice." "Sure, sure." Suddenly, she made a face. "Rose?" she asked. I heard Blondie chuckle. "Again?" "I think I've drunk two gallons in the last hour," Bella explained. Edward and I both got out of the way while Rosalie came to lift Bella from the couch and take her to the bathroom. "Can I walk?" Bella asked. "My legs are so stiff." "Are you sure?" Edward asked. "Rose'll catch me if I trip over my feet. Which could happen pretty easily, since I can't see them." Rosalie set Bella carefully on her feet, keeping her hands right at Bella's shoulders. Bella stretched her arms out in front of her, wincing a little. "That feels good," she sighed. "Ugh, but I'm huge." She really was. Her stomach was its own continent. "One more day," she said, and patted her stomach. I couldn't help the pain that shot through me in a sudden, stabbing burst, but I tried to keep it off my face. I could hide it for one more day, right? "All righty, then. Whoops—oh, no!" The cup Bella had left on the sofa tumbled to one side, the dark red blood spilling out onto the pale fabric. Automatically, though three other hands beat her there, Bella bent over, reaching out to catch it. There was the strangest, muffled ripping sound from the center of her body. "Oh!" she gasped. And then she went totally limp, slumping toward the floor. Rosalie caught her in the same instant, before she could fall. Edward was there, too, hands out, the mess on the sofa forgotten. "Bella?" he asked, and then his eyes unfocused, and panic shot across his features. A half second later, Bella screamed. It was not just a scream, it was a blood-curdling shriek of agony. The horrifying sound cut off with a gurgle, and her eyes rolled back into her head. Her body twitched, arched in Rosalie's arms, and then Bella vomited a fountain of blood. 18. THERE ARE NO WORDS FOR THIS. BELLA'S BODY, STREAMING WITH RED, STARTED TO TWITCH, jerking around in Rosalie's arms like she was being electrocuted. All the while, her face was blank—unconscious. It was the wild thrashing from inside the center of her body that moved her. As she convulsed, sharp snaps and cracks kept time with the spasms. Rosalie and Edward were frozen for the shortest half second, and then they broke. Rosalie whipped Bella's body into her arms, and, shouting so fast it was hard to separate the individual words, she and Edward shot up the staircase to the second floor. I sprinted after them. "Morphine!" Edward yelled at Rosalie. "Alice—get Carlisle on the phone!" Rosalie screeched. The room I followed them to looked like an emergency ward set up in the middle of a library. The lights were brilliant and white. Bella was on a table under the glare, skin ghostly in the spotlight. Her body flopped, a fish on the sand. Rosalie pinned Bella down, yanking and ripping her clothes out of the way, while Edward stabbed a syringe into her arm. How many times had I imagined her naked? Now I couldn't look. I was afraid to have these memories in my head. "What's happening, Edward?" "He's suffocating!" "The placenta must have detached!" Somewhere in this, Bella came around. She responded to their words with a shriek that clawed at my eardrums. "Get him OUT!" she screamed. "He can't BREATHE! Do it NOW!" I saw the red spots pop out when her scream broke the blood vessels in her eyes. "The morphine—," Edward growled. "NO! NOW—!" Another gush of blood choked off what she was shrieking. He held her head up, desperately trying to clear her mouth so that she could breathe again. Alice darted into the room and clipped a little blue earpiece under Rosalie's hair. Then Alice backed away, her gold eyes wide and burning, while Rosalie hissed frantically into the phone. In the bright light, Bella's skin seemed more purple and black than it was white. Deep red was seeping beneath the skin over the huge, shuddering bulge of her stomach. Rosalie's hand came up with a scalpel. "Let the morphine spread!" Edward shouted at her. "There's no time," Rosalie hissed. "He's dying!" Her hand came down on Bella's stomach, and vivid red spouted out from where she pierced the skin. It was like a bucket being turned over, a faucet twisted to full. Bella jerked, but didn't scream. She was still choking. And then Rosalie lost her focus. I saw the expression on her face shift, saw her lips pull back from her teeth and her black eyes glint with thirst. "No, Rose!" Edward roared, but his hands were trapped, trying to prop Bella upright so she could breathe. I launched myself at Rosalie, jumping across the table without bothering to phase. As I hit her stone body, knocking her toward the door, I felt the scalpel in her hand stab deep into my left arm. My right palm smashed against her face, locking her jaw and blocking her airways. I used my grip on Rosalie's face to swing her body out so that I could land a solid kick in her gut; it was like kicking concrete. She flew into the door frame, buckling one side of it. The little speaker in her ear crackled into pieces. Then Alice was there, yanking her by the throat to get her into the hall. And I had to give it to Blondie—she didn't put up an ounce of fight. She wanted us to win. She let me trash her like that, to save Bella. Well, to save the thing. I ripped the blade out of my arm. "Alice, get her out of here!" Edward shouted. "Take her to Jasper and keep her there! Jacob, I need you!" I didn't watch Alice finish the job. I wheeled back to the operating table, where Bella was turning blue, her eyes wide and staring. "CPR?" Edward growled at me, fast and demanding. "Yes!" I judged his face swiftly, looking for any sign that he was going to react like Rosalie. There was nothing but single-minded ferocity. "Get her breathing! I've got to get him out before—" Another shattering crack inside her body, the loudest yet, so loud that we both froze in shock waiting for her answering shriek. Nothing. Her legs, which had been curled up in agony, now went limp, sprawling out in an unnatural way. "Her spine," he choked in horror. "Get it out of her!" I snarled, flinging the scalpel at him. "She won't feel anything now!" And then I bent over her head. Her mouth looked clear, so I pressed mine to hers and blew a lungful of air into it. I felt her twitching body expand, so there was nothing blocking her throat. Her lips tasted like blood. I could hear her heart, thumping unevenly. Keep it going, I thought fiercely at her, blowing another gust of air into her body. You promised. Keep your heart beating. I heard the soft, wet sound of the scalpel across her stomach. More blood dripping to the floor. The next sound jolted through me, unexpected, terrifying. Like metal being shredded apart. The sound brought back the fight in the clearing so many months ago, the tearing sound of the newborns being ripped apart. I glanced over to see Edward's face pressed against the bulge. Vampire teeth—a surefire way to cut through vampire skin. I shuddered as I blew more air into Bella. She coughed back at me, her eyes blinking, rolling blindly. "You stay with me now, Bella!" I yelled at her. "Do you hear me? Stay! You're not leaving me. Keep your heart beating!" Her eyes wheeled, looking for me, or him, but seeing nothing. I stared into them anyway, keeping my gaze locked there. And then her body was suddenly still under my hands, though her breathing picked up roughly and her heart continued to thud. I realized the stillness meant that it was over. The internal beating was over. It must be out of her. It was. Edward whispered, "Renesmee." So Bella'd been wrong. It wasn't the boy she'd imagined. No big surprise there. What hadn't she been wrong about? I didn't look away from her red-spotted eyes, but I felt her hands lift weakly. "Let me…," she croaked in a broken whisper. "Give her to me." I guess I should have known that he would always give her what she wanted, no matter how stupid her request might be. But I didn't dream he would listen to her now. So I didn't think to stop him. Something warm touched my arm. That right there should have caught my attention. Nothing felt warm to me. But I couldn't look away from Bella's face. She blinked and then stared, finally seeing something. She moaned out a strange, weak croon. "Renes…mee. So…beautiful." And then she gasped—gasped in pain. By the time I looked, it was too late. Edward had snatched the warm, bloody thing out of her limp arms. My eyes flickered across her skin. It was red with blood—the blood that had flowed from her mouth, the blood smeared all over the creature, and fresh blood welling out of a tiny double-crescent bite mark just over her left breast. "No, Renesmee," Edward murmured, like he was teaching the monster manners. I didn't look at him or it. I watched only Bella as her eyes rolled back into her head. With a last dull ga-lump, her heart faltered and went silent. She missed maybe half of one beat, and then my hands were on her chest, doing compressions. I counted in my head, trying to keep the rhythm steady. One. Two. Three. Four. Breaking away for a second, I blew another lungful of air into her. I couldn't see anymore. My eyes were wet and blurry. But I was hyperaware of the sounds in the room. The unwilling glug-glug of her heart under my demanding hands, the pounding of my own heart, and another—a fluttering beat that was too fast, too light. I couldn't place it. I forced more air down Bella's throat. "What are you waiting for?" I choked out breathlessly, pumping her heart again. One. Two. Three. Four. "Take the baby," Edward said urgently. "Throw it out the window." One. Two. Three. Four. "Give her to me," a low voice chimed from the doorway. Edward and I snarled at the same time. One. Two. Three. Four. "I've got it under control," Rosalie promised. "Give me the baby, Edward. I'll take care of her until Bella…" I breathed for Bella again while the exchange took place. The fluttering thumpa-thumpa-thumpa faded away with distance. "Move your hands, Jacob." I looked up from Bella's white eyes, still pumping her heart for her. Edward had a syringe in his hand—all silver, like it was made from steel. "What's that?" His stone hand knocked mine out of the way. There was a tiny crunch as his blow broke my little finger. In the same second, he shoved the needle straight into her heart. "My venom," he answered as he pushed the plunger down. I heard the jolt in her heart, like he'd shocked her with paddles. "Keep it moving," he ordered. His voice was ice, was dead. Fierce and unthinking. Like he was a machine. I ignored the healing ache in my finger and started pumping her heart again. It was harder, as if her blood was congealing there—thicker and slower. While I pushed the now-viscous blood through her arteries, I watched what he was doing. It was like he was kissing her, brushing his lips at her throat, at her wrists, into the crease at the inside of her arm. But I could hear the lush tearing of her skin as his teeth bit through, again and again, forcing venom into her system at as many points as possible. I saw his pale tongue sweep along the bleeding gashes, but before this could make me either sick or angry, I realized what he was doing. Where his tongue washed the venom over her skin, it sealed shut. Holding the poison and the blood inside her body. I blew more air into her mouth, but there was nothing there. Just the lifeless rise of her chest in response. I kept pumping her heart, counting, while he worked manically over her, trying to put her back together. All the king's horses and all the king's men … But there was nothing there, just me, just him. Working over a corpse. Because that's all that was left of the girl we both loved. This broken, bled-out, mangled corpse. We couldn't put Bella together again. I knew it was too late. I knew she was dead. I knew it for sure because the pull was gone. I didn't feel any reason to be here beside her. She wasn't here anymore. So this body had no more draw for me. The senseless need to be near her had vanished. Or maybe moved was the better word. It seemed like I felt the pull from the opposite direction now. From down the stairs, out the door. The longing to get away from here and never, ever come back. "Go, then," he snapped, and he hit my hands out of the way again, taking my place this time. Three fingers broken, it felt like. I straightened them numbly, not minding the throb of pain. He pushed her dead heart faster than I had. "She's not dead," he growled. "She's going to be fine." I wasn't sure he was talking to me anymore. Turning away, leaving him with his dead, I walked slowly to the door. So slowly. I couldn't make my feet move faster. This was it, then. The ocean of pain. The other shore so far away across the boiling water that I couldn't imagine it, much less see it. I felt empty again, now that I'd lost my purpose. Saving Bella had been my fight for so long now. And she wouldn't be saved. She'd willingly sacrificed herself to be torn apart by that monster's young, and so the fight was lost. It was all over. I shuddered at the sound coming from behind me as I plodded down the stairs—the sound of a dead heart being forced to thud. I wanted to somehow pour bleach inside my head and let it fry my brain. To burn away the images left from Bella's final minutes. I'd take the brain damage if I could get rid of that—the screaming, the bleeding, the unbearable crunching and snapping as the newborn monster tore through her from the inside out… I wanted to sprint away, to take the stairs ten at a time and race out the door, but my feet were heavy as iron and my body was more tired than it had ever been before. I shuffled down the stairs like a crippled old man. I rested at the bottom step, gathering my strength to get out the door. Rosalie was on the clean end of the white sofa, her back to me, cooing and murmuring to the blanket-wrapped thing in her arms. She must have heard me pause, but she ignored me, caught up in her moment of stolen motherhood. Maybe she would be happy now. Rosalie had what she wanted, and Bella would never come to take the creature from her. I wondered if that's what the poisonous blonde had been hoping for all along. She held something dark in her hands, and there was a greedy sucking sound coming from the tiny murderer she held. The scent of blood in the air. Human blood. Rosalie was feeding it. Of course it would want blood. What else would you feed the kind of monster that would brutally mutilate its own mother? It might as well have been drinking Bella's blood. Maybe it was. My strength came back to me as I listened to the sound of the little executioner feeding. Strength and hate and heat—red heat washing through my head, burning but erasing nothing. The images in my head were fuel, building up the inferno but refusing to be consumed. I felt the tremors rock me from head to toe, and I did not try to stop them. Rosalie was totally absorbed in the creature, paying no attention to me at all. She wouldn't be quick enough to stop me, distracted as she was. Sam had been right. The thing was an aberration—its existence went against nature. A black, soulless demon. Something that had no right to be. Something that had to be destroyed. It seemed like the pull had not been leading to the door after all. I could feel it now, encouraging me, tugging me forward. Pushing me to finish this, to cleanse the world of this abomination. Rosalie would try to kill me when the creature was dead, and I would fight back. I wasn't sure if I would have time to finish her before the others came to help. Maybe, maybe not. I didn't much care either way. I didn't care if the wolves, either set, avenged me or called the Cullens' justice fair. None of that mattered. All I cared about was my own justice. My revenge. The thing that had killed Bella would not live another minute longer. If Bella'd survived, she would have hated me for this. She would have wanted to kill me personally. But I didn't care. She didn't care what she had done to me—letting herself be slaughtered like an animal. Why should I take her feelings into account? And then there was Edward. He must be too busy now—too far gone in his insane denial, trying to reanimate a corpse—to listen to my plans. So I wouldn't get the chance to keep my promise to him, unless—and it was not a wager I'd put money on—I managed to win the fight against Rosalie, Jasper, and Alice, three on one. But even if I did win, I didn't think I had it in me to kill Edward. Because I didn't have enough compassion for that. Why should I let him get away from what he'd done? Wouldn't it be more fair—more satisfying—to let him live with nothing, nothing at all? It made me almost smile, as filled with hate as I was, to imagine it. No Bella. No killer spawn. And also missing as many members of his family as I was able to take down. Of course, he could probably put those back together, since I wouldn't be around to burn them. Unlike Bella, who would never be whole again. I wondered if the creature could be put back together. I doubted it. It was part Bella, too—so it must have inherited some of her vulnerability. I could hear that in the tiny, thrumming beat of its heart. Its heart was beating. Hers wasn't. Only a second had passed as I made these easy decisions. The trembling was getting tighter and faster. I coiled myself, preparing to spring at the blond vampire and rip the murderous thing from her arms with my teeth. Rosalie cooed at the creature again, setting the empty metal bottle- thing aside and lifting the creature into the air to nuzzle her face against its cheek. Perfect. The new position was perfect for my strike. I leaned forward and felt the heat begin to change me while the pull toward the killer grew—it was stronger than I'd ever felt it before, so strong it reminded me of an Alpha's command, like it would crush me if I didn't obey. This time I wanted to obey. The murderer stared past Rosalie's shoulder at me, its gaze more focused than any newborn creature's gaze should be. Warm brown eyes, the color of milk chocolate—the exact same color that Bella's had been. My shaking jerked to a stop; heat flooded through me, stronger than before, but it was a new kind of heat—not a burning. It was a glowing. Everything inside me came undone as I stared at the tiny porcelain face of the half-vampire, half-human baby. All the lines that held me to my life were sliced apart in swift cuts, like clipping the strings to a bunch of balloons. Everything that made me who I was—my love for the dead girl upstairs, my love for my father, my loyalty to my new pack, the love for my other brothers, my hatred for my enemies, my home, my name, my self—disconnected from me in that second—snip, snip, snip—and floated up into space. I was not left drifting. A new string held me where I was. Not one string, but a million. Not strings, but steel cables. A million steel cables all tying me to one thing—to the very center of the universe. I could see that now—how the universe swirled around this one point. I'd never seen the symmetry of the universe before, but now it was plain. The gravity of the earth no longer tied me to the place where I stood. It was the baby girl in the blond vampire's arms that held me here now. Renesmee. From upstairs, there was a new sound. The only sound that could touch me in this endless instant. A frantic pounding, a racing beat … A changing heart. CONTENTS PREFACE 19. BURNING 20. NEW 21. FIRST HUNT 22. PROMISED 23. MEMORIES 24. SURPRISE 25. FAVOR 26. SHINY 27. TRAVEL PLANS 28. THE FUTURE 29. DEFECTION 30. IRRESISTIBLE 31. TALENTED 32. COMPANY 33. FORGERY 34. DECLARED 35. DEADLINE 36. BLOODLUST 37. CONTRIVANCES 38. POWER 39. THE HAPPILY EVER AFTER Personal affection is a luxury you can have only after all your enemies are eliminated. Until then, everyone you love is a hostage, sapping your courage and corrupting your judgment. Orson Scott Card Empire PREFACE No LONGER JUST A NIGHTMARE, THE LINE OF BLACK advanced on us through the icy mist stirred up by their feet. We're going to die, I thought in panic. I was desperate for the precious one I guarded, but even to think of that was a lapse in attention I could not afford. They ghosted closer, their dark robes billowing slightly with the movement. I saw their hands curl into bone-colored claws. They drifted apart, angling to come at us from all sides. We were outnumbered. It was over. And then, like a burst of light from a flash, the whole scene was different. Yet nothing changed—the Volturi still stalked toward us, poised to kill. All that really changed was how the picture looked to me. Suddenly, I was hungry for it. I wanted them to charge. The panic changed to bloodlust as I crouched forward, a smile on my face, and a growl ripped through my bared teeth. 19. BURNING THE PAIN WAS BEWILDERING. Exactly that—I was bewildered. I couldn't understand, couldn't make sense of what was happening. My body tried to reject the pain, and I was sucked again and again into a blackness that cut out whole seconds or maybe even minutes of the agony, making it that much harder to keep up with reality. I tried to separate them. Non-reality was black, and it didn't hurt so much. Reality was red, and it felt like I was being sawed in half, hit by a bus, punched by a prize fighter, trampled by bulls, and submerged in acid, all at the same time. Reality was feeling my body twist and flip when I couldn't possibly move because of the pain. Reality was knowing there was something so much more important than all this torture, and not being able to remember what it was. Reality had come on so fast. One moment, everything was as it should have been. Surrounded by people I loved. Smiles. Somehow, unlikely as it was, it seemed like I was about to get everything I'd been fighting for. And then one tiny, inconsequential thing had gone wrong. I'd watched as my cup tilted, dark blood spilling out and staining the perfect white, and I'd lurched toward the accident reflexively. I'd seen the other, faster hands, but my body had continued to reach, to stretch… Inside me, something had yanked the opposite direction. Ripping. Breaking. Agony. The darkness had taken over, and then washed away to a wave of torture. I couldn't breathe—I had drowned once before, and this was different; it was too hot in my throat. Pieces of me shattering, snapping, slicing apart… More blackness. Voices, this time, shouting, as the pain came back. "The placenta must have detached!" Something sharper than knives ripped through me—the words, making sense in spite of the other tortures. Detached placenta—I knew what that meant. It meant that my baby was dying inside me. "Get him out!" I screamed to Edward. Why hadn't he done it yet? "He can't breathe! Do it now!" "The morphine—" He wanted to wait, to give me painkillers, while our baby was dying?! "No! Now—," I choked, unable to finish. Black spots covered the light in the room as a cold point of new pain stabbed icily into my stomach. It felt wrong—I struggled automatically to protect my womb, my baby, my little Edward Jacob, but I was weak. My lungs ached, oxygen burned away. The pain faded away again, though I clung to it now. My baby, my baby, dying… How long had passed? Seconds or minutes? The pain was gone. Numb. I couldn't feel. I still couldn't see, either, but I could hear. There was air in my lungs again, scraping in rough bubbles up and down my throat. "You stay with me now, Bella! Do you hear me? Stay! You're not leaving me. Keep your heart beating!" Jacob? Jacob, still here, still trying to save me. Of course, I wanted to tell him. Of course I would keep my heart beating. Hadn't I promised them both? I tried to feel my heart, to find it, but I was so lost inside my own body. I couldn't feel the things I should, and nothing felt in the right place. I blinked and I found my eyes. I could see the light. Not what I was looking for, but better than nothing. As my eyes struggled to adjust, Edward whispered, "Renesmee." Renesmee? Not the pale and perfect son of my imagination? I felt a moment of shock. And then a flood of warmth. Renesmee. I willed my lips to move, willed the bubbles of air to turn into whispers on my tongue. I forced my numb hands to reach. "Let me…Give her to me." The light danced, shattering off Edward's crystal hands. The sparkles were tinged with red, with the blood that covered his skin. And more red in his hands. Something small and struggling, dripping with blood. He touched the warm body to my weak arms, almost like I was holding her. Her wet skin was hot—as hot as Jacob's. My eyes focused; suddenly everything was absolutely clear. Renesmee did not cry, but she breathed in quick, startled pants. Her eyes were open, her expression so shocked it was almost funny. The little, perfectly round head was covered in a thick layer of matted, bloody curls. Her irises were a familiar—but astonishing—chocolate brown. Under the blood, her skin looked pale, a creamy ivory. All besides her cheeks, which flamed with color. Her tiny face was so absolutely perfect that it stunned me. She was even more beautiful than her father. Unbelievable. Impossible. "Renesmee," I whispered. "So…beautiful." The impossible face suddenly smiled—a wide, deliberate smile. Behind the shell-pink lips was a full complement of snowy milk teeth. She leaned her head down, against my chest, burrowing against the warmth. Her skin was warm and silky, but it didn't give the way mine did. Then there was pain again—just one warm slash of it. I gasped. And she was gone. My angel-faced baby was nowhere. I couldn't see or feel her. No! I wanted to shout. Give her back to me! But the weakness was too much. My arms felt like empty rubber hoses for a moment, and then they felt like nothing at all. I couldn't feel them. I couldn't feel me. The blackness rushed over my eyes more solidly than before. Like a thick blindfold, firm and fast. Covering not just my eyes but also my self with a crushing weight. It was exhausting to push against it. I knew it would be so much easier to give in. To let the blackness push me down, down, down to a place where there was no pain and no weariness and no worry and no fear. If it had only been for myself, I wouldn't have been able to struggle very long. I was only human, with no more than human strength. I'd been trying to keep up with the supernatural for too long, like Jacob had said. But this wasn't just about me. If I did the easy thing now, let the black nothingness erase me, I would hurt them. Edward. Edward. My life and his were twisted into a single strand. Cut one, and you cut both. If he were gone, I would not be able to live through that. If I were gone, he wouldn't live through it, either. And a world without Edward seemed completely pointless. Edward had to exist. Jacob—who'd said goodbye to me over and over but kept coming back when I needed him. Jacob, who I'd wounded so many times it was criminal. Would I hurt him again, the worst way yet? He'd stayed for me, despite everything. Now all he asked was that I stay for him. But it was so dark here that I couldn't see either of their faces. Nothing seemed real. That made it hard not to give up. I kept pushing against the black, though, almost a reflex. I wasn't trying to lift it. I was just resisting. Not allowing it to crush me completely. I wasn't Atlas, and the black felt as heavy as a planet; I couldn't shoulder it. All I could do was not be entirely obliterated. It was sort of the pattern to my life—I'd never been strong enough to deal with the things outside my control, to attack the enemies or outrun them. To avoid the pain. Always human and weak, the only thing I'd ever been able to do was keep going. Endure. Survive. It had been enough up to this point. It would have to be enough today. I would endure this until help came. I knew Edward would be doing everything he could. He would not give up. Neither would I. I held the blackness of nonexistence at bay by inches. It wasn't enough, though—that determination. As the time ground on and on and the darkness gained by tiny eighths and sixteenths of my inches, I needed something more to draw strength from. I couldn't pull even Edward's face into view. Not Jacob's, not Alice's or Rosalie's or Charlie's or Renée's or Carlisle's or Esme's…Nothing. It terrified me, and I wondered if it was too late. I felt myself slipping—there was nothing to hold on to. No! I had to survive this. Edward was depending on me. Jacob. Charlie Alice Rosalie Carlisle Renee Esme … Renesmee. And then, though I still couldn't see anything, suddenly I could feel something. Like phantom limbs, I imagined I could feel my arms again. And in them, something small and hard and very, very warm. My baby. My little nudger. I had done it. Against the odds, I had been strong enough to survive Renesmee, to hold on to her until she was strong enough to live without me. That spot of heat in my phantom arms felt so real. I clutched it closer. It was exactly where my heart should be. Holding tight the warm memory of my daughter, I knew that I would be able to fight the darkness as long as I needed to. The warmth beside my heart got more and more real, warmer and warmer. Hotter. The heat was so real it was hard to believe that I was imagining it. Hotter. Uncomfortable now. Too hot. Much, much too hot. Like grabbing the wrong end of a curling iron—my automatic response was to drop the scorching thing in my arms. But there was nothing in my arms. My arms were not curled to my chest. My arms were dead things lying somewhere at my side. The heat was inside me. The burning grew—rose and peaked and rose again until it surpassed anything I'd ever felt. I felt the pulse behind the fire raging now in my chest and realized that I'd found my heart again, just in time to wish I never had. To wish that I'd embraced the blackness while I'd still had the chance. I wanted to raise my arms and claw my chest open and rip the heart from it— anything to get rid of this torture. But I couldn't feel my arms, couldn't move one vanished finger. James, snapping my leg under his foot. That was nothing. That was a soft place to rest on a feather bed. I'd take that now, a hundred times. A hundred snaps. I'd take it and be grateful. The baby, kicking my ribs apart, breaking her way through me piece by piece. That was nothing. That was floating in a pool of cool water. I'd take it a thousand times. Take it and be grateful. The fire blazed hotter and I wanted to scream. To beg for someone to kill me now, before I lived one more second in this pain. But I couldn't move my lips. The weight was still there, pressing on me. I realized it wasn't the darkness holding me down; it was my body. So heavy. Burying me in the flames that were chewing their way out from my heart now, spreading with impossible pain through my shoulders and stomach, scalding their way up my throat, licking at my face. Why couldn't I move? Why couldn't I scream? This wasn't part of the stories. My mind was unbearably clear—sharpened by the fierce pain—and I saw the answer almost as soon as I could form the questions. The morphine. It seemed like a million deaths ago that we'd discussed it—Edward, Carlisle, and I. Edward and Carlisle had hoped that enough painkillers would help fight the pain of the venom. Carlisle had tried with Emmett, but the venom had burned ahead of the medicine, sealing his veins. There hadn't been time for it to spread. I'd kept my face smooth and nodded and thanked my rarely lucky stars that Edward could not read my mind. Because I'd had morphine and venom together in my system before, and I knew the truth. I knew the numbness of the medicine was completely irrelevant while the venom seared through my veins. But there'd been no way I was going to mention that fact. Nothing that would make him more unwilling to change me. I hadn't guessed that the morphine would have this effect—that it would pin me down and gag me. Hold me paralyzed while I burned. I knew all the stories. I knew that Carlisle had kept quiet enough to avoid discovery while he burned. I knew that, according to Rosalie, it did no good to scream. And I'd hoped that maybe I could be like Carlisle. That I would believe Rosalie's words and keep my mouth shut. Because I knew that every scream that escaped my lips would torment Edward. Now it seemed like a hideous joke that I was getting my wish fulfilled. If I couldn't scream, how could I tell them to kill me? All I wanted was to die. To never have been born. The whole of my existence did not outweigh this pain. Wasn't worth living through it for one more heartbeat. Let me die, let me die, let me die. And, for a never-ending space, that was all there was. Just the fiery torture, and my soundless shrieks, pleading for death to come. Nothing else, not even time. So that made it infinite, with no beginning and no end. One infinite moment of pain. The only change came when suddenly, impossibly, my pain was doubled. The lower half of my body, deadened since before the morphine, was suddenly on fire, too. Some broken connection had been healed—knitted together by the scorching fingers of the flame. The endless burn raged on. It could have been seconds or days, weeks or years, but, eventually, time came to mean something again. Three things happened together, grew from each other so that I didn't know which came first: time restarted, the morphine's weight faded, and I got stronger. I could feel the control of my body come back to me in increments, and those increments were my first markers of the time passing. I knew it when I was able to twitch my toes and twist my fingers into fists. I knew it, but I did not act on it. Though the fire did not decrease one tiny degree—in fact, I began to develop a new capacity for experiencing it, a new sensitivity to appreciate, separately, each blistering tongue of flame that licked through my veins—I discovered that I could think around it. I could remember why I shouldn't scream. I could remember the reason why I'd committed to enduring this unendurable agony. I could remember that, though it felt impossible now, there was something that might be worth the torture. This happened just in time for me to hold on when the weights left my body. To anyone watching me, there would be no change. But for me, as I struggled to keep the screams and thrashing locked up inside my body, where they couldn't hurt anyone else, it felt like I'd gone from being tied to the stake as I burned, to gripping that stake to hold myself in the fire. I had just enough strength to lie there unmoving while I was charred alive. My hearing got clearer and clearer, and I could count the frantic, pounding beats of my heart to mark the time. I could count the shallow breaths that gasped through my teeth. I could count the low, even breaths that came from somewhere close beside me. These moved slowest, so I concentrated on them. They meant the most time passing. More even than a clock's pendulum, those breaths pulled me through the burning seconds toward the end. I continued to get stronger, my thoughts clearer. When new noises came, I could listen. There were light footsteps, the whisper of air stirred by an opening door. The footsteps got closer, and I felt pressure against the inside of my wrist. I couldn't feel the coolness of the fingers. The fire blistered away every memory of cool. "Still no change?" "None." The lightest pressure, breath against my scorched skin. "There's no scent of the morphine left." "I know." "Bella? Can you hear me?" I knew, beyond all doubt, that if I unlocked my teeth I would lose it—I would shriek and screech and writhe and thrash. If I opened my eyes, if I so much as twitched a finger—any change at all would be the end of my control. "Bella? Bella, love? Can you open your eyes? Can you squeeze my hand?" Pressure on my fingers. It was harder not to answer this voice, but I stayed paralyzed. I knew that the pain in his voice now was nothing compared to what it could be. Right now he only feared that I was suffering. "Maybe…Carlisle, maybe I was too late." His voice was muffled; it broke on the word late. My resolve wavered for a second. "Listen to her heart, Edward. It's stronger than even Emmett's was. I've never heard anything so vital. She'll be perfect." Yes, I was right to keep quiet. Carlisle would reassure him. He didn't need to suffer with me. "And her—her spine ? " "Her injuries weren't so much worse than Esme's. The venom will heal her as it did Esme." "But she's so still. I must have done something wrong." "Or something right, Edward. Son, you did everything I could have and more. I'm not sure I would have had the persistence, the faith it took to save her. Stop berating yourself. Bella is going to be fine." A broken whisper. "She must be in agony." "We don't know that. She had so much morphine in her system. We don't know the effect that will have on her experience." Faint pressure inside the crease of my elbow. Another whisper. "Bella, I love you. Bella, I'm sorry." I wanted so much to answer him, but I wouldn't make his pain worse. Not while I had the strength to hold myself still. Through all this, the racking fire went right on burning me. But there was so much space in my head now. Room to ponder their conversation, room to remember what had happened, room to look ahead to the future, with still endless room left over to suffer in. Also room to worry. Where was my baby? Why wasn't she here? Why weren't they talking about her? "No, I'm staying right here," Edward whispered, answering an unspoken thought. "They'll sort it out." "An interesting situation," Carlisle responded. "And I'd thought I'd seen just about everything." "I'll deal with it later. We'll deal with it." Something pressed softly to my blistering palm. "I'm sure, between the five of us, we can keep it from turning into bloodshed." Edward sighed. "I don't know which side to take. I'd love to flog them both. Well, later." "I wonder what Bella will think—whose side she'll take," Carlisle mused. One low, strained chuckle. "I'm sure she'll surprise me. She always does." Carlisle's footsteps faded away again, and I was frustrated that there was no further explanation. Were they talking so mysteriously just to annoy me? I went back to counting Edward's breaths to mark the time. Ten thousand, nine hundred forty-three breaths later, a different set of footsteps whispered into the room. Lighter. More…rhythmic. Strange that I could distinguish the minute differences between footsteps that I'd never been able to hear at all before today. "How much longer?" Edward asked. "It won't be long now," Alice told him. "See how clear she's becoming? I can see her so much better." She sighed. "Still feeling a little bitter?" "Yes, thanks so much for bringing it up," she grumbled. "You would be mortified, too, if you realized that you were handcuffed by your own nature. I see vampires best, because I am one; I see humans okay, because I was one. But I can't see these odd half-breeds at all because they're nothing I've experienced. Bah!" "Focus, Alice." "Right. Bella's almost too easy to see now." There was a long moment of silence, and then Edward sighed. It was a new sound, happier. "She's really going to be fine," he breathed. "Of course she is." "You weren't so sanguine two days ago." "I couldn't see right two days ago. But now that she's free of all the blind spots, it's a piece of cake." "Could you concentrate for me? On the clock—give me an estimate." Alice sighed. "So impatient. Fine. Give me a sec—" Quiet breathing. "Thank you, Alice." His voice was brighter. How long? Couldn't they at least say it aloud for me? Was that too much to ask? How many more seconds would I burn? Ten thousand? Twenty? Another day—eighty-six thousand, four hundred? More than that? "She's going to be dazzling." Edward growled quietly. "She always has been." Alice snorted. "You know what I mean. Look at her." Edward didn't answer, but Alice's words gave me hope that maybe I didn't resemble the charcoal briquette I felt like. It seemed as if I must be just a pile of charred bones by now. Every cell in my body had been razed to ash. I heard Alice breeze out of the room. I heard the swish of the fabric she moved, rubbing against itself. I heard the quiet buzz of the light hanging from the ceiling. I heard the faint wind brushing against the outside of the house. I could hear everything. Downstairs, someone was watching a ball game. The Mariners were winning by two runs. "It's my turn," I heard Rosalie snap at someone, and there was a low snarl in response. "Hey, now," Emmett cautioned. Someone hissed. I listened for more, but there was nothing but the game. Baseball was not interesting enough to distract me from the pain, so I listened to Edward's breathing again, counting the seconds. Twenty-one thousand, nine hundred seventeen and a half seconds later, the pain changed. On the good-news side of things, it started to fade from my fingertips and toes. Fading slowly, but at least it was doing something new. This had to be it. The pain was on its way out… And then the bad news. The fire in my throat wasn't the same as before. I wasn't only on fire, but I was now parched, too. Dry as bone. So thirsty. Burning fire, and burning thirst … Also bad news: The fire inside my heart got hotter. How was that possible? My heartbeat, already too fast, picked up—the fire drove its rhythm to a new frantic pace. "Carlisle," Edward called. His voice was low but clear. I knew that Carlisle would hear it, if he were in or near the house. The fire retreated from my palms, leaving them blissfully pain-free and cool. But it retreated to my heart, which blazed hot as the sun and beat at a furious new speed. Carlisle entered the room, Alice at his side. Their footsteps were so distinct, I could even tell that Carlisle was on the right, and a foot ahead of Alice. "Listen," Edward told them. The loudest sound in the room was my frenzied heart, pounding to the rhythm of the fire. "Ah," Carlisle said. "It's almost over." My relief at his words was overshadowed by the excruciating pain in my heart. My wrists were free, though, and my ankles. The fire was totally extinguished there. "Soon," Alice agreed eagerly. "I'll get the others. Should I have Rosalie…?" "Yes—keep the baby away." What? No. No! What did he mean, keep my baby away? What was he thinking? My fingers twitched—the irritation breaking through my perfect façade. The room went silent besides the jack-hammering of my heart as they all stopped breathing for a second in response. A hand squeezed my wayward fingers. "Bella? Bella, love?" Could I answer him without screaming? I considered that for a moment, and then the fire ripped hotter still through my chest, draining in from my elbows and knees. Better not to chance it. "I'll bring them right up," Alice said, an urgent edge to her tone, and I heard the swish of wind as she darted away. And then—oh! My heart took off, beating like helicopter blades, the sound almost a single sustained note; it felt like it would grind through my ribs. The fire flared up in the center of my chest, sucking the last remnants of the flames from the rest of my body to fuel the most scorching blaze yet. The pain was enough to stun me, to break through my iron grip on the stake. My back arched, bowed as if the fire was dragging me upward by my heart. I allowed no other piece of my body to break rank as my torso slumped back to the table. It became a battle inside me—my sprinting heart racing against the attacking fire. Both were losing. The fire was doomed, having consumed everything that was combustible; my heart galloped toward its last beat. The fire constricted, concentrating inside that one remaining human organ with a final, unbearable surge. The surge was answered by a deep, hollow-sounding thud. My heart stuttered twice, and then thudded quietly again just once more. There was no sound. No breathing. Not even mine. For a moment, the absence of pain was all I could comprehend. And then I opened my eyes and gazed above me in wonder. 20. NEW EVERYTHING WAS SO CLEAR. Sharp. Defined. The brilliant light overhead was still blinding-bright, and yet I could plainly see the glowing strands of the filaments inside the bulb. I could see each color of the rainbow in the white light, and, at the very edge of the spectrum, an eighth color I had no name for. Behind the light, I could distinguish the individual grains in the dark wood ceiling above. In front of it, I could see the dust motes in the air, the sides the light touched, and the dark sides, distinct and separate. They spun like little planets, moving around each other in a celestial dance. The dust was so beautiful that I inhaled in shock; the air whistled down my throat, swirling the motes into a vortex. The action felt wrong. I considered, and realized the problem was that there was no relief tied to the action. I didn't need the air. My lungs weren't waiting for it. They reacted indifferently to the influx. I did not need the air, but I liked it. In it, I could taste the room around me—taste the lovely dust motes, the mix of the stagnant air mingling with the flow of slightly cooler air from the open door. Taste a lush whiff of silk. Taste a faint hint of something warm and desirable, something that should be moist, but wasn't… That smell made my throat burn dryly, a faint echo of the venom burn, though the scent was tainted by the bite of chlorine and ammonia. And most of all, I could taste an almost-honey-lilac-andsun-flavored scent that was the strongest thing, the closest thing to me. I heard the sound of the others, breathing again now that I did. Their breath mixed with the scent that was something just off honey and lilac and sunshine, bringing new flavors. Cinnamon, hyacinth, pear, seawater, rising bread, pine, vanilla, leather, apple, moss, lavender, chocolate… I traded a dozen different comparisons in my mind, but none of them fit exactly. So sweet and pleasant. The TV downstairs had been muted, and I heard someone— Rosalie?—shift her weight on the first floor. I also heard a faint, thudding rhythm, with a voice shouting angrily to the beat. Rap music? I was mystified for a moment, and then the sound faded away like a car passing by with the windows rolled down. With a start, I realized that this could be exactly right. Could I hear all the way to the freeway? I didn't realize someone was holding my hand until whoever it was squeezed it lightly. Like it had before to hide the pain, my body locked down again in surprise. This was not a touch I expected. The skin was perfectly smooth, but it was the wrong temperature. Not cold. After that first frozen second of shock, my body responded to the unfamiliar touch in a way that shocked me even more. Air hissed up my throat, spitting through my clenched teeth with a low, menacing sound like a swarm of bees. Before the sound was out, my muscles bunched and arched, twisting away from the unknown. I flipped off my back in a spin so fast it should have turned the room into an incomprehensible blur—but it did not. I saw every dust mote, every splinter in the wood-paneled walls, every loose thread in microscopic detail as my eyes whirled past them. So by the time I found myself crouched against the wall defensively—about a sixteenth of a second later—I already understood what had startled me, and that I had overreacted. Oh. Of course. Edward wouldn't feel cold to me. We were the same temperature now. I held my pose for an eighth of a second longer, adjusting to the scene before me. Edward was leaning across the operating table that had been my pyre, his hand reached out toward me, his expression anxious. Edward's face was the most important thing, but my peripheral vision catalogued everything else, just in case. Some instinct to defend had been triggered, and I automatically searched for any sign of danger. My vampire family waited cautiously against the far wall by the door, Emmett and Jasper in the front. Like there was danger. My nostrils flared, searching for the threat. I could smell nothing out of place. That faint scent of something delicious—but marred by harsh chemicals— tickled my throat again, setting it to aching and burning. Alice was peeking around Jasper's elbow with a huge grin on her face; the light sparkled off her teeth, another eight-color rainbow. That grin reassured me and then put the pieces together. Jasper and Emmett were in the front to protect the others, as I had assumed. What I hadn't grasped immediately was that I was the danger. All this was a sideline. The greater part of my senses and my mind were still focused on Edward's face. I had never seen it before this second. How many times had I stared at Edward and marveled over his beauty? How many hours—days, weeks—of my life had I spent dreaming about what I then deemed to be perfection? I thought I'd known his face better than my own. I'd thought this was the one sure physical thing in my whole world: the flawlessness of Edward's face. I may as well have been blind. For the first time, with the dimming shadows and limiting weakness of humanity taken off my eyes, I saw his face. I gasped and then struggled with my vocabulary, unable to find the right words. I needed better words. At this point, the other part of my attention had ascertained that there was no danger here besides myself, and I automatically straightened out of my crouch; almost a whole second had passed since I'd been on the table. I was momentarily preoccupied by the way my body moved. The instant I'd considered standing erect, I was already straight. There was no brief fragment of time in which the action occurred; change was instantaneous, almost as if there was no movement at all. I continued to stare at Edward's face, motionless again. He moved slowly around the table—each step taking nearly half a second, each step flowing sinuously like river water weaving over smooth stones—his hand still outstretched. I watched the grace of his advance, absorbing it with my new eyes. "Bella?" he asked in a low, calming tone, but the worry in his voice layered my name with tension. I could not answer immediately, lost as I was in the velvet folds of his voice. It was the most perfect symphony, a symphony in one instrument, an instrument more profound than any created by man… "Bella, love? I'm sorry, I know it's disorienting. But you're all right. Everything is fine." Everything? My mind spun out, spiraling back to my last human hour. Already, the memory seemed dim, like I was watching through a thick, dark veil—because my human eyes had been half blind. Everything had been so blurred. When he said everything was fine, did that include Renesmee? Where was she? With Rosalie? I tried to remember her face—I knew that she had been beautiful—but it was irritating to try to see through the human memories. Her face was shrouded in darkness, so poorly lit… What about Jacob? Was he fine? Did my long-suffering best friend hate me now? Had he gone back to Sam's pack? Seth and Leah, too? Were the Cullens safe, or had my transformation ignited the war with the pack? Did Edward's blanket assurance cover all of that? Or was he just trying to calm me? And Charlie? What would I tell him now? He must have called while I was burning. What had they told him? What did he think had happened to me? As I deliberated for one small piece of a second over which question to ask first, Edward reached out tentatively and stroked his fingertips across my cheek. Smooth as satin, soft as a feather, and now exactly matched to the temperature of my skin. His touch seemed to sweep beneath the surface of my skin, right through the bones of my face. The feeling was tingly, electric—it jolted through my bones, down my spine, and trembled in my stomach. Wait, I thought as the trembling blossomed into a warmth, a yearning. Wasn't I supposed to lose this? Wasn't giving up this feeling a part of the bargain? I was a newborn vampire. The dry, scorching ache in my throat gave proof to that. And I knew what being a newborn entailed. Human emotions and longings would come back to me later in some form, but I'd accepted that I would not feel them in the beginning. Only thirst. That was the deal, the price. I'd agreed to pay it. But as Edward's hand curled to the shape of my face like satin- covered steel, desire raced through my dried-out veins, singing from my scalp to my toes. He arched one perfect eyebrow, waiting for me to speak. I threw my arms around him. Again, it was like there was no movement. One moment I stood straight and still as a statue; in the same instant, he was in my arms. Warm—or at least, that was my perception. With the sweet, delicious scent that I'd never been able to really take in with my dull human senses, but that was one hundred percent Edward. I pressed my face into his smooth chest. And then he shifted his weight uncomfortably. Leaned away from my embrace. I stared up at his face, confused and frightened by the rejection. "Urn…carefully, Bella. Ow." I yanked my arms away, folding them behind my back as soon as I understood. I was too strong. "Oops," I mouthed. He smiled the kind of smile that would have stopped my heart if it were still beating. "Don't panic, love," he said, lifting his hand to touch my lips, parted in horror. "You're just a bit stronger than I am for the moment." My eyebrows pushed together. I'd known this, too, but it felt more surreal than any other part of this ultimately surreal moment. I was stronger than Edward. I'd made him say ow. His hand stroked my cheek again, and I all but forgot my distress as another wave of desire rippled through my motionless body. These emotions were so much stronger than I was used to that it was hard to stick to one train of thought despite the extra room in my head. Each new sensation overwhelmed me. I remembered Edward saying once—his voice in my head a weak shadow compared to the crystal, musical clarity I was hearing now—that his kind, our kind, were easily distracted. I could see why. I made a concerted effort to focus. There was something I needed to say. The most important thing. Very carefully, so carefully that the movement was actually discernible, I brought my right arm out from behind my back and raised my hand to touch his cheek. I refused to let myself be sidetracked by the pearly color of my hand or by the smooth silk of his skin or by the charge that zinged in my fingertips. I stared into his eyes and heard my own voice for the first time. "I love you," I said, but it sounded like singing. My voice rang and shimmered like a bell. His answering smile dazzled me more than it ever had when I was human; I could really see it now. "As I love you," he told me. He took my face between his hands and leaned his face to mine— slow enough to remind me to be careful. He kissed me, soft as a whisper at first, and then suddenly stronger, fiercer. I tried to remember to be gentle with him, but it was hard work to remember anything in the onslaught of sensation, hard to hold on to any coherent thoughts. It was like he'd never kissed me—like this was our first kiss. And, in truth, he'd never kissed me this way before. It almost made me feel guilty. Surely I was in breach of the contract. I couldn't be allowed to have this, too. Though I didn't need oxygen, my breathing sped, raced as fast as it had when I was burning. This was a different kind of fire. Someone cleared his throat. Emmett. I recognized the deep sound at once, joking and annoyed at the same time. I'd forgotten we weren't alone. And then I realized that the way I was curved around Edward now was not exactly polite for company. Embarrassed, I half-stepped away in another instantaneous movement. Edward chuckled and stepped with me, keeping his arms tight around my waist. His face was glowing—like a white flame burned from behind his diamond skin. I took an unnecessary breath to settle myself. How different this kissing was! I read his expression as I compared the indistinct human memories to this clear, intense feeling. He looked…a little smug. "You've been holding out on me," I accused in my singing voice, my eyes narrowing a tiny bit. He laughed, radiant with relief that it was all over—the fear, the pain, the uncertainties, the waiting, all of it behind us now. "It was sort of necessary at the time," he reminded me. "Now it's your turn to not break me." He laughed again. I frowned as I considered that, and then Edward was not the only one laughing. Carlisle stepped around Emmett and walked toward me swiftly; his eyes were only slightly wary, but Jasper shadowed his footsteps. I'd never seen Carlisle's face before either, not really. I had an odd urge to blink—like I was staring at the sun. "How do you feel, Bella?" Carlisle asked. I considered that for a sixty-fourth of a second. "Overwhelmed. There's so much…" I trailed off, listening to the bell- tone of my voice again. "Yes, it can be quite confusing." I nodded one fast, jerky bob. "But I feel like me. Sort of. I didn't expect that." Edward's arms squeezed lightly around my waist. "I told you so," he whispered. "You are quite controlled," Carlisle mused. "More so than expected, even with the time you had to prepare yourself mentally for this." I thought about the wild mood swings, the difficulty concentrating, and whispered, "I'm not sure about that." He nodded seriously, and then his jeweled eyes glittered with interest. "It seems like we did something right with the morphine this time. Tell me, what do you remember of the transformation process?" I hesitated, intensely aware of Edward's breath brushing against my cheek, sending whispers of electricity through my skin. "Everything was…very dim before. I remember the baby couldn't breathe…" I looked at Edward, momentarily frightened by the memory. "Renesmee is healthy and well," he promised, a gleam I'd never seen before in his eyes. He said her name with an understated fervor. A reverence. The way devout people talked about their gods. "What do you remember after that?" I focused on my poker face. I'd never been much of a liar. "It's hard to remember. It was so dark before. And then … I opened my eyes and I could see everything." "Amazing," Carlisle breathed, his eyes alight. Chagrin washed through me, and I waited for the heat to burn in my cheeks and give me away. And then I remembered that I would never blush again. Maybe that would protect Edward from the truth. I'd have to find a way to tip off Carlisle, though. Someday. If he ever needed to create another vampire. That possibility seemed very unlikely, which made me feel better about lying. "I want you to think—to tell me everything you remember," Carlisle pressed excitedly, and I couldn't help the grimace that flashed across my face. I didn't want to have to keep lying, because I might slip up. And I didn't want to think about the burning. Unlike the human memories, that part was perfectly clear and I found I could remember it with far too much precision. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Bella," Carlisle apologized immediately. "Of course your thirst must be very uncomfortable. This conversation can wait." Until he'd mentioned it, the thirst actually wasn't unmanageable. There was so much room in my head. A separate part of my brain was keeping tabs on the burn in my throat, almost like a reflex. The way my old brain had handled breathing and blinking. But Carlisle's assumption brought the burn to the forefront of my mind. Suddenly, the dry ache was all I could think about, and the more I thought about it, the more it hurt. My hand flew up to cup my throat, like I could smother the flames from the outside. The skin of my neck was strange beneath my fingers. So smooth it was somehow soft, though it was hard as stone, too. Edward dropped his arms and took my other hand, tugging gently. "Let's hunt, Bella." My eyes opened wider and the pain of the thirst receded, shock taking its place. Me? Hunt? With Edward? But…how? I didn't know what to do. He read the alarm in my expression and smiled encouragingly. "It's quite easy, love. Instinctual. Don't worry, I'll show you." When I didn't move, he grinned his crooked smile and raised his eyebrows. "I was under the impression that you'd always wanted to see me hunt." I laughed in a short burst of humor (part of me listened in wonder to the pealing bell sound) as his words reminded me of cloudy human conversations. And then I took a whole second to run quickly through those first days with Edward—the true beginning of my life—in my head so that I would never forget them. I did not expect that it would be so uncomfortable to remember. Like trying to squint through muddy water. I knew from Rosalie's experience that if I thought of my human memories enough, I would not lose them over time. I did not want to forget one minute I'd spent with Edward, even now, when eternity stretched in front of us. I would have to make sure those human memories were cemented into my infallible vampire mind. "Shall we?" Edward asked. He reached up to take the hand that was still at my neck. His fingers smoothed down the column of my throat. "I don't want you to be hurting," he added in a low murmur. Something I would not have been able to hear before. "I'm fine," I said out of lingering human habit. "Wait. First." There was so much. I'd never gotten to my questions. There were more important things than the ache. It was Carlisle who spoke now. "Yes?" "I want to see her. Renesmee." It was oddly difficult to say her name. My daughter; these words were even harder to think. It all seemed so distant. I tried to remember how I had felt three days ago, and automatically, my hands pulled free of Edward's and dropped to my stomach. Flat. Empty. I clutched at the pale silk that covered my skin, panicking again, while an insignificant part of my mind noted that Alice must have dressed me. I knew there was nothing left inside me, and I faintly remembered the bloody removal scene, but the physical proof was still hard to process. All I knew was loving my little nudger inside of me. Outside of me, she seemed like something I must have imagined. A fading dream— a dream that was half nightmare. While I wrestled with my confusion, I saw Edward and Carlisle exchange a guarded glance. "What?" I demanded. "Bella," Edward said soothingly. "That's not really a good idea. She's half human, love. Her heart beats, and blood runs in her veins. Until your thirst is positively under control…You don't want to put her in danger, do you?" I frowned. Of course I must not want that. Was I out of control? Confused, yes. Easily unfocused, yes. But dangerous? To her? My daughter? I couldn't be positive that the answer was no. So I would have to be patient. That sounded difficult. Because until I saw her again, she wouldn't be real. Just a fading dream…of a stranger … "Where is she?" I listened hard, and then I could hear the beating heart on the floor below me. I could hear more than one person breathing—quietly, like they were listening, too. There was also a fluttering sound, a thrumming, that I couldn't place… And the sound of the heartbeat was so moist and appealing, that my mouth started watering. So I would definitely have to learn how to hunt before I saw her. My stranger baby. "Is Rosalie with her?" "Yes," Edward answered in a clipped tone, and I could see that something he'd thought of upset him. I'd thought he and Rose were over their differences. Had the animosity erupted again? Before I could ask, he pulled my hands away from my flat stomach, tugging gently again. "Wait," I protested again, trying to focus. "What about Jacob? And Charlie? Tell me everything that I missed. How long was I…unconscious?" Edward didn't seem to notice my hesitation over the last word. Instead, he was exchanging another wary glance with Carlisle. "What's wrong?" I whispered. "Nothing is wrong," Carlisle told me, emphasizing the last word in a strange way. "Nothing has changed much, actually—you were only unaware for just over two days. It was very fast, as these things go. Edward did an excellent job. Quite innovative—the venom injection straight to your heart was his idea." He paused to smile proudly at his son and then sighed. "Jacob is still here, and Charlie still believes that you are sick. He thinks you're in Atlanta right now, undergoing tests at the CDC. We gave him a bad number, and he's frustrated. He's been speaking to Esme." "I should call him…I murmured to myself, but, listening to my own voice, I understood the new difficulties. He wouldn't recognize this voice. It wouldn't reassure him. And then the earlier surprise intruded. "Hold on—Jacob is still here?" Another glance between them. "Bella," Edward said quickly. "There's much to discuss, but we should take care of you first. You have to be in pain…" When he pointed that out, I remembered the burn in my throat and swallowed convulsively. "But Jacob—" "We have all the time in the world for explanations, love," he reminded me gently. Of course. I could wait a little longer for the answer; it would be easier to listen when the fierce pain of the fiery thirst was no longer scattering my concentration. "Okay." "Wait, wait, wait," Alice trilled from the doorway. She danced across the room, dreamily graceful. As with Edward and Carlisle, I felt some shock as I really looked at her face for the first time. So lovely. "You promised I could be there the first time! What if you two run past something reflective?" "Alice—," Edward protested. "It will only take a second!" And with that, Alice darted from the room. Edward sighed. "What is she talking about?" But Alice was already back, carrying the huge, gilt-framed mirror from Rosalie's room, which was nearly twice as tall as she was, and several times as wide. Jasper had been so still and silent that I'd taken no notice of him since he'd followed behind Carlisle. Now he moved again, to hover over Alice, his eyes locked on my expression. Because I was the danger here. I knew he would be tasting the mood around me, too, and so he must have felt my jolt of shock as I studied his face, looking at it closely for the first time. Through my sightless human eyes, the scars left from his former life with the newborn armies in the South had been mostly invisible. Only with a bright light to throw their slightly raised shapes into definition could I even make out their existence. Now that I could see, the scars were Jasper's most dominant feature. It was hard to take my eyes off his ravaged neck and jaw—hard to believe that even a vampire could have survived so many sets of teeth ripping into his throat. Instinctively, I tensed to defend myself. Any vampire who saw Jasper would have had the same reaction. The scars were like a lighted billboard. Dangerous, they screamed. How many vampires had tried to kill Jasper? Hundreds? Thousands? The same number that had died in the attempt. Jasper both saw and felt my assessment, my caution, and he smiled wryly. "Edward gave me grief for not getting you to a mirror before the wedding," Alice said, pulling my attention away from her frightening lover. "I'm not going to be chewed out again." "Chewed out?" Edward asked skeptically, one eyebrow curving upward. "Maybe I'm overstating things," she murmured absently as she turned the mirror to face me. "And maybe this has solely to do with your own voyeuristic gratification," he countered. Alice winked at him. I was only aware of this exchange with the lesser part of my concentration. The greater part was riveted on the person in the mirror. My first reaction was an unthinking pleasure. The alien creature in the glass was indisputably beautiful, every bit as beautiful as Alice or Esme. She was fluid even in stillness, and her flawless face was pale as the moon against the frame of her dark, heavy hair. Her limbs were smooth and strong, skin glistening subtly, luminous as a pearl. My second reaction was horror. Who was she? At first glance, I couldn't find my face anywhere in the smooth, perfect planes of her features. And her eyes! Though I'd known to expect them, her eyes still sent a thrill of terror through me. All the while I studied and reacted, her face was perfectly composed, a carving of a goddess, showing nothing of the turmoil roiling inside me. And then her full lips moved. "The eyes?" I whispered, unwilling to say my eyes. "How long? "They'll darken up in a few months," Edward said in a soft, comforting voice. "Animal blood dilutes the color more quickly than a diet of human blood. They'll turn amber first, then gold." My eyes would blaze like vicious red flames for months? "Months?" My voice was higher now, stressed. In the mirror, the perfect eyebrows lifted incredulously above her glowing crimson eyes— brighter than any I'd ever seen before. Jasper took a step forward, alarmed by the intensity of my sudden anxiety. He knew young vampires only too well; did this emotion presage some misstep on my part? No one answered my question. I looked away, to Edward and Alice. Both their eyes were slightly unfocused—reacting to Jasper's unease. Listening to its cause, looking ahead to the immediate future. I took another deep, unnecessary breath. "No, I'm fine," I promised them. My eyes flickered to the stranger in the mirror and back. "It's just…a lot to take in." Jasper's brow furrowed, highlighting the two scars over his left eye. "I don't know," Edward murmured. The woman in the mirror frowned. "What question did I miss?" Edward grinned. "Jasper wonders how you're doing it." "Doing what?" "Controlling your emotions, Bella," Jasper answered. "I've never seen a newborn do that—stop an emotion in its tracks that way. You were upset, but when you saw our concern, you reined it in, regained power over yourself. I was prepared to help, but you didn't need it." "Is that wrong?" I asked. My body automatically froze as I waited for his verdict. "No," he said, but his voice was unsure. Edward stroked his hand down my arm, as if encouraging me to thaw. "It's very impressive, Bella, but we don't understand it. We don't know how long it can hold." I considered that for a portion of a second. At any moment, would I snap? Turn into a monster? I couldn't feel it coming on… Maybe there was no way to anticipate such a thing. "But what do you think?" Alice asked, a little impatient now, pointing to the mirror. "I'm not sure," I hedged, not wanting to admit how frightened I really was. I stared at the beautiful woman with the terrifying eyes, looking for pieces of me. There was something there in the shape of her lips—if you looked past the dizzying beauty, it was true that her upper lip was slightly out of balance, a bit too full to match the lower. Finding this familiar little flaw made me feel a tiny bit better. Maybe the rest of me was in there, too. I raised my hand experimentally, and the woman in the mirror copied the movement, touching her face, too. Her crimson eyes watched me warily. Edward sighed. I turned away from her to look at him, raising one eyebrow. "Disappointed?" I asked, my ringing voice impassive. He laughed. "Yes," he admitted. I felt the shock break through the composed mask on my face, followed instantly by the hurt. Alice snarled. Jasper leaned forward again, waiting for me to snap. But Edward ignored them and wrapped his arms tightly around my newly frozen form, pressing his lips against my cheek. "I was rather hoping that I'd be able to hear your mind, now that it is more similar to my own," he murmured. "And here I am, as frustrated as ever, wondering what could possibly be going on inside your head." I felt better at once. "Oh well," I said lightly, relieved that my thoughts were still my own. "I guess my brain will never work right. At least I'm pretty." It was becoming easier to joke with him as I adjusted, to think in straight lines. To be myself. Edward growled in my ear. "Bella, you have never been merely pretty." Then his face pulled away from mine, and he sighed. "All right, all right," he said to someone. "What?" I asked. "You're making Jasper more edgy by the second. He may relax a little when you've hunted." I looked at Jasper's worried expression and nodded. I didn't want to snap here, if that was coming. Better to be surrounded by trees than family. "Okay. Let's hunt," I agreed, a thrill of nerves and anticipation making my stomach quiver. I unwrapped Edward's arms from around me, keeping one of his hands, and turned my back on the strange and beautiful woman in the mirror. 21. FIRST HUNT "THE WINDOW?" I ASKED, STARING TWO STORIES DOWN. I'd never really been afraid of heights per se, but being able to see all the details with such clarity made the prospect less appealing. The angles of the rocks below were sharper than I would have imagined them. Edward smiled. "It's the most convenient exit. If you're frightened, I can carry you." "We have all eternity, and you're worried about the time it would take to walk to the back door?" He frowned slightly. "Renesmee and Jacob are downstairs…" "Oh." Right. I was the monster now. I had to keep away from scents that might trigger my wild side. From the people that I loved in particular. Even the ones I didn't really know yet. "Is Renesmee . okay…with Jacob there?" I whispered. I realized belatedly that it must have been Jacob's heart I'd heard below. I listened hard again, but I could only hear the one steady pulse. "He doesn't like her much." Edward's lips tightened in an odd way. "Trust me, she is perfectly safe. I know exactly what Jacob is thinking." "Of course," I murmured, and looked at the ground again. "Stalling?" he challenged. "A little. I don't know how…" And I was very conscious of my family behind me, watching silently. Mostly silently. Emmett had already chuckled under his breath once. One mistake, and he'd be rolling on the floor. Then the jokes about the world's only clumsy vampire would start… Also, this dress—that Alice must have put me in sometime when I was too lost in the burning to notice—was not what I would have picked out for either jumping or hunting. Tightly fitted ice-blue silk? What did she think I would need it for? Was there a cocktail party later? "Watch me," Edward said. And then, very casually, he stepped out of the tall, open window and fell. I watched carefully, analyzing the angle at which he bent his knees to absorb the impact. The sound of his landing was very low—a muted thud that could have been a door softly closed, or a book gently laid on a table. It didn't look hard. Clenching my teeth as I concentrated, I tried to copy his casual step into empty air. Ha! The ground seemed to move toward me so slowly that it was nothing at all to place my feet—what shoes had Alice put me in? Stilettos? She'd lost her mind—to place my silly shoes exactly right so that landing was no different than stepping one foot forward on a flat surface. I absorbed the impact in the balls of my feet, not wanting to snap off the thin heels. My landing seemed just as quiet as his. I grinned at him. "Right. Easy." He smiled back. "Bella?" "Yes?" "That was quite graceful—even for a vampire." I considered that for a moment, and then I beamed. If he'd just been saying that, then Emmett would have laughed. No one found his remark humorous, so it must have been true. It was the first time anyone had ever applied the word graceful to me in my entire life…or, well, existence anyway. "Thank you," I told him. And then I hooked the silver satin shoes off my feet one by one and lobbed them together back through the open window. A little too hard, maybe, but I heard someone catch them before they could damage the paneling. Alice grumbled, "Her fashion sense hasn't improved as much as her balance." Edward took my hand—I couldn't stop marveling at the smoothness, the comfortable temperature of his skin—and darted through the backyard to the edge of the river. I went along with him effortlessly. Everything physical seemed very simple. "Are we swimming?" I asked him when we stopped beside the water. "And ruin your pretty dress? No. We're jumping." I pursed my lips, considering. The river was about fifty yards wide here. "You first," I said. He touched my cheek, took two quick backward strides, and then ran back those two steps, launching himself from a flat stone firmly embedded in the riverbank. I studied the flash of movement as he arced over the water, finally turning a somersault just before he disappeared into the thick trees on the other side of the river. "Show-off," I muttered, and heard his invisible laugh. I backed up five paces, just in case, and took a deep breath. Suddenly, I was anxious again. Not about falling or getting hurt—I was more worried about the forest getting hurt. It had come on slowly, but I could feel it now—the raw, massive strength thrilling in my limbs. I was suddenly sure that if I wanted to tunnel under the river, to claw or beat my way straight through the bedrock, it wouldn't take me very long. The objects around me—the trees, the shrubs, the rocks…the house—had all begun to look very fragile. Hoping very much that Esme was not particularly fond of any specific trees across the river, I began my first stride. And then stopped when the tight satin split six inches up my thigh. Alice! Well, Alice always seemed to treat clothes as if they were disposable and meant for one-time usage, so she shouldn't mind this. I bent to carefully grasp the hem at the undamaged right seam between my fingers and, exerting the tiniest amount of pressure possible, I ripped the dress open to the top of my thigh. Then I fixed the other side to match. Much better. I could hear the muffled laughter in the house, and even the sound of someone gritting her teeth. The laughter came from upstairs and down, and I very easily recognized the much different, rough, throaty chuckle from the first floor. So Jacob was watching, too? I couldn't imagine what he was thinking now, or what he was still doing here. I'd envisioned our reunion—if he could ever forgive me—taking place far in the future, when I was more stable, and time had healed the wounds I'd inflicted in his heart. I didn't turn to look at him now, wary of my mood swings. It wouldn't be good to let any emotion take too strong a hold on my frame of mind. Jasper's fears had me on edge, too. I had to hunt before I dealt with anything else. I tried to forget everything else so I could concentrate. "Bella?" Edward called from the woods, his voice moving closer. "Do you want to watch again?" But I remembered everything perfectly, of course, and I didn't want to give Emmett a reason to find more humor in my education. This was physical—it should be instinctive. So I took a deep breath and ran for the river. Unhindered by my skirt, it took only one long bound to reach the water's edge. Just an eighty-fourth of a second, and yet it was plenty of time—my eyes and my mind moved so quickly that one step was enough. It was simple to position my right foot just so against the flat stone and exert the adequate pressure to send my body wheeling up into the air. I was paying more attention to aim than force, and I erred on the amount of power necessary—but at least I didn't err on the side that would have gotten me wet. The fifty yard width was slightly too easy a distance… It was a strange, giddy, electrifying thing, but a short thing. An entire second had yet to pass, and I was across. I was expecting the close-packed trees to be a problem, but they were surprisingly helpful. It was a simple matter to reach out with one sure hand as I fell back toward the earth again deep inside the forest and catch myself on a convenient branch; I swung lightly from the limb and landed on my toes, still fifteen feet from the ground on the wide bough of a Sitka spruce. It was fabulous. Over the sound of my peals of delighted laughter, I could hear Edward racing to find me. My jump had been twice as long as his. When he reached my tree, his eyes were wide. I leaped nimbly from the branch to his side, soundlessly landing again on the balls of my feet. "Was that good?" I wondered, my breathing accelerated with excitement. "Very good." He smiled approvingly, but his casual tone didn't match the surprised expression in his eyes. "Can we do it again?" "Focus, Bella—we're on a hunting trip." "Oh, right." I nodded. "Hunting." "Follow me…if you can." He grinned, his expression suddenly taunting, and broke into a run. He was faster than me. I couldn't imagine how he moved his legs with such blinding speed, but it was beyond me. However, I was stronger, and every stride of mine matched the length of three of his. And so I flew with him through the living green web, by his side, not following at all. As I ran, I couldn't help laughing quietly at the thrill of it; the laughter neither slowed me nor upset my focus. I could finally understand why Edward never hit the trees when he ran—a question that had always been a mystery to me. It was a peculiar sensation, the balance between the speed and the clarity. For, while I rocketed over, under, and through the thick jade maze at a rate that should have reduced everything around me to a streaky green blur, I could plainly see each tiny leaf on all the small branches of every insignificant shrub that I passed. The wind of my speed blew my hair and my torn dress out behind me, and, though I knew it shouldn't, it felt warm against my skin. Just as the rough forest floor shouldn't feel like velvet beneath my bare soles, and the limbs that whipped against my skin shouldn't feel like caressing feathers. The forest was much more alive than I'd ever known—small creatures whose existence I'd never guessed at teemed in the leaves around me. They all grew silent after we passed, their breath quickening in fear. The animals had a much wiser reaction to our scent than humans seemed to. Certainly, it'd had the opposite effect on me. I kept waiting to feel winded, but my breath came effortlessly. I waited for the burn to begin in my muscles, but my strength only seemed to increase as I grew accustomed to my stride. My leaping bounds stretched longer, and soon he was trying to keep up with me. I laughed again, exultant, when I heard him falling behind. My naked feet touched the ground so infrequently now it felt more like flying than running. "Bella," he called dryly, his voice even, lazy. I could hear nothing else; he had stopped. I briefly considered mutiny. But, with a sigh, I whirled and skipped lightly to his side, some hundred yards back. I looked at him expectantly. He was smiling, with one eyebrow raised. He was so beautiful that I could only stare. "Did you want to stay in the country?" he asked, amused. "Or were you planning to continue on to Canada this afternoon?" "This is fine," I agreed, concentrating less on what he was saying and more on the mesmerizing way his lips moved when he spoke. It was hard not to become sidetracked with everything fresh in my strong new eyes. "What are we hunting?" "Elk. I thought something easy for your first time…" He trailed off when my eyes narrowed at the word easy. But I wasn't going to argue; I was too thirsty. As soon as I'd started to think about the dry burn in my throat, it was all I could think about. Definitely getting worse. My mouth felt like four o'clock on a June afternoon in Death Valley. "Where?" I asked, scanning the trees impatiently. Now that I had given the thirst my attention, it seemed to taint every other thought in my head, leaking into the more pleasant thoughts of running and Edward's lips and kissing and…scorching thirst. I couldn't get away from it. "Hold still for a minute," he said, putting his hands lightly on my shoulders. The urgency of my thirst receded momentarily at his touch. "Now close your eyes," he murmured. When I obeyed, he raised his hands to my face, stroking my cheekbones. I felt my breathing speed and waited briefly again for the blush that wouldn't come. "Listen," Edward instructed. "What do you hear?" Everything, I could have said; his perfect voice, his breath, his lips brushing together as he spoke, the whisper of birds preening their feathers in the treetops, their fluttering heartbeats, the maple leaves scraping together, the faint clicking of ants following each other in a long line up the bark of the nearest tree. But I knew he meant something specific, so I let my ears range outward, seeking something different than the small hum of life that surrounded me. There was an open space near us—the wind had a different sound across the exposed grass—and a small creek, with a rocky bed. And there, near the noise of the water, was the splash of lapping tongues, the loud thudding of heavy hearts, pumping thick streams of blood… It felt like the sides of my throat had sucked closed. "By the creek, to the northeast?" I asked, my eyes still shut. "Yes." His tone was approving. "Now…wait for the breeze again and…what do you smell?" Mostly him—his strange honey-lilac-and-sun perfume. But also the rich, earthy smell of rot and moss, the resin in the evergreens, the warm, almost nutty aroma of the small rodents cowering beneath the tree roots. And then, reaching out again, the clean smell of the water, which was surprisingly unappealing despite my thirst. I focused toward the water and found the scent that must have gone with the lapping noise and the pounding heart. Another warm smell, rich and tangy, stronger than the others. And yet nearly as unappealing as the brook. I wrinkled my nose. He chuckled. "I know—it takes some getting used to." "Three?" I guessed. "Five. There are two more in the trees behind them." "What do I do now?" His voice sounded like he was smiling. "What do you feel like doing?" I thought about that, my eyes still shut as I listened and breathed in the scent. Another bout of baking thirst intruded on my awareness, and suddenly the warm, tangy odor wasn't quite so objectionable. At least it would be something hot and wet in my desiccated mouth. My eyes snapped open. "Don't think about it," he suggested as he lifted his hands off my face and took a step back. "Just follow your instincts." I let myself drift with the scent, barely aware of my movement as I ghosted down the incline to the narrow meadow where the stream flowed. My body shifted forward automatically into a low crouch as I hesitated at the fern-fringed edge of the trees. I could see a big bull, two dozen antler points crowning his head, at the stream's edge, and the shadow-spotted shapes of the four others heading eastward into forest at a leisurely pace. I centered myself around the scent of the male, the hot spot in his shaggy neck where the warmth pulsed strongest. Only thirty yards—two or three bounds—between us. I tensed myself for the first leap. But as my muscles bunched in preparation, the wind shifted, blowing stronger now, and from the south. I didn't stop to think, hurtling out of the trees in a path perpendicular to my original plan, scaring the elk into the forest, racing after a new fragrance so attractive that there wasn't a choice. It was compulsory. The scent ruled completely. I was single-minded as I traced it, aware only of the thirst and the smell that promised to quench it. The thirst got worse, so painful now that it confused all my other thoughts and began to remind me of the burn of venom in my veins. There was only one thing that had any chance of penetrating my focus now, an instinct more powerful, more basic than the need to quench the fire—it was the instinct to protect myself from danger. Self- preservation. I was suddenly alert to the fact that I was being followed. The pull of the irresistible scent warred with the impulse to turn and defend my hunt. A bubble of sound built in my chest, my lips pulled back of their own accord to expose my teeth in warning. My feet slowed, the need to protect my back struggling against the desire to quench my thirst. And then I could hear my pursuer gaining, and defense won. As I spun, the rising sound ripped its way up my throat and out. The feral snarl, coming from my own mouth, was so unexpected that it brought me up short. It unsettled me, and it cleared my head for a second—the thirst-driven haze receded, though the thirst burned on. The wind shifted, blowing the smell of wet earth and coming rain across my face, further freeing me from the other scent's fiery grip—a scent so delicious it could only be human. Edward hesitated a few feet away, his arms raised as if to embrace me—or restrain me. His face was intent and cautious as I froze, horrified. I realized that I had been about to attack him. With a hard jerk, I straightened out of my defensive crouch. I held my breath as I refocused, fearing the power of the fragrance swirling up from the south. He could see reason return to my face, and he took a step toward me, lowering his arms. "I have to get away from here," I spit through my teeth, using the breath I had. Shock crossed his face. "Can you leave?" I didn't have time to ask him what he meant by that. I knew the ability to think clearly would last only as long as I could stop myself from thinking of— I burst into a run again, a flat-out sprint straight north, concentrating solely on the uncomfortable feeling of sensory deprivation that seemed to be my body's only response to the lack of air. My one goal was to run far enough away that the scent behind me would be completely lost. Impossible to find, even if I changed my mind… Once again, I was aware of being followed, but I was sane this time. I fought the instinct to breathe—to use the flavors in the air to be sure it was Edward. I didn't have to fight long; though I was running faster than I ever had before, shooting like a comet through the straightest path I could find in the trees; Edward caught up with me after a short minute. A new thought occurred to me, and I stopped dead, my feet planted. I was sure it must be safe here, but I held my breath just in case. Edward blew past me, surprised by my sudden freeze. He wheeled around and was at my side in a second. He put his hands on my shoulders and stared into my eyes, shock still the dominant emotion on his face. "How did you do that?" he demanded. "You let me beat you before, didn't you?" I demanded back, ignoring his question. And I'd thought I'd been doing so well! When I opened my mouth, I could taste the air—it was unpolluted now, with no trace of the compelling perfume to torment my thirst. I took a cautious breath. He shrugged and shook his head, refusing to be deflected. "Bella, how did you do it?" "Run away? I held my breath." "But how did you stop hunting?" "When you came up behind me…I'm so sorry about that." "Why are you apologizing to me? I'm the one who was horribly careless. I assumed no one would be so far from the trails, but I should have checked first. Such a stupid mistake! You have nothing to apologize for." "But I growled at you!" I was still horrified that I was physically capable of such blasphemy. "Of course you did. That's only natural. But I can't understand how you ran away." "What else could I do?" I asked. His attitude confused me—what did he want to have happened? "It might have been someone I know!" He startled me, suddenly bursting into a spasm of loud laughter, throwing his head back and letting the sound echo off the trees. "Why are you laughing at me?" He stopped at once, and I could see he was wary again. Keep it under control, I thought to myself. I had to watch my temper. Just like I was a young werewolf rather than a vampire. "I'm not laughing at you, Bella. I'm laughing because I am in shock. And I am in shock because I am completely amazed." "Why?" "You shouldn't be able to do any of this. You shouldn't be so…so rational. You shouldn't be able to stand here discussing this with me calmly and coolly. And, much more than any of that, you should not have been able to break off mid-hunt with the scent of human blood in the air. Even mature vampires have difficulty with that—we're always very careful of where we hunt so as not to put ourselves in the path of temptation. Bella, you're behaving like you're decades rather than days old." "Oh." But I'd known it was going to be hard. That was why I'd been so on guard. I'd been expecting it to be difficult. He put his hands on my face again, and his eyes were full of wonder. "What wouldn't I give to be able to see into your mind for just this one moment." Such powerful emotions. I'd been prepared for the thirst part, but not this. I'd been so sure it wouldn't be the same when he touched me. Well, truthfully, it wasn't the same. It was stronger. I reached up to trace the planes of his face; my fingers lingered on his lips. "I thought I wouldn't feel this way for a long time?" My uncertainty made the words a question. "But I still want you." He blinked in shock. "How can you even concentrate on that? Aren't you unbearably thirsty?" Of course I was now, now that he'd brought it up again! I tried to swallow and then sighed, closing my eyes like I had before to help me concentrate. I let my senses range out around me, tensed this time in case of another onslaught of the delicious taboo scent. Edward dropped his hands, not even breathing while I listened farther and farther out into the web of green life, sifting through the scents and sounds for something not totally repellant to my thirst. There was a hint of something different, a faint trail to the east… My eyes flashed open, but my focus was still on sharper senses as I turned and darted silently eastward. The ground sloped steeply upward almost at once, and I ran in a hunting crouch, close to the ground, taking to the trees when that was easier. I sensed rather than heard Edward with me, flowing quietly through the woods, letting me lead. The vegetation thinned as we climbed higher; the scent of pitch and resin grew more powerful, as did the trail I followed—it was a warm scent, sharper than the smell of the elk and more appealing. A few seconds more and I could hear the muted padding of immense feet, so much subtler than the crunch of hooves. The sound was up—in the branches rather than on the ground. Automatically I darted into the boughs as well, gaining the strategic higher position, halfway up a towering silver fir. The soft thud of paws continued stealthily beneath me now; the rich scent was very close. My eyes pinpointed the movement linked with the sound, and I saw the tawny hide of the great cat slinking along the wide branch of a spruce just down and to the left of my perch. He was big— easily four times my mass. His eyes were intent on the ground beneath; the cat hunted, too. I caught the smell of something smaller, bland next to the aroma of my prey, cowering in brush below the tree. The lion's tail twitched spasmodically as he prepared to spring. With a light bound, I sailed through the air and landed on the lion's branch. He felt the shiver of the wood and whirled, shrieking surprise and defiance. He clawed the space between us, his eyes bright with fury. Half-crazed with thirst, I ignored the exposed fangs and the hooked claws and launched myself at him, knocking us both to the forest floor. It wasn't much of a fight. His raking claws could have been caressing fingers for all the impact they had on my skin. His teeth could find no purchase against my shoulder or my throat. His weight was nothing. My teeth unerringly sought his throat, and his instinctive resistance was pitifully feeble against my strength. My jaws locked easily over the precise point where the heat flow concentrated. It was effortless as biting into butter. My teeth were steel razors; they cut through the fur and fat and sinews like they weren't there. The flavor was wrong, but the blood was hot and wet and it soothed the ragged, itching thirst as I drank in an eager rush. The cat's struggles grew more and more feeble, and his screams choked off with a gurgle. The warmth of the blood radiated throughout my whole body, heating even my fingertips and toes. The lion was finished before I was. The thirst flared again when he ran dry, and I shoved his carcass off my body in disgust. How could I still be thirsty after all that? I wrenched myself erect in one quick move. Standing, I realized I was a bit of a mess. I wiped my face off on the back of my arm and tried to fix the dress. The claws that had been so ineffectual against my skin had had more success with the thin satin. "Hmm," Edward said. I looked up to see him leaning casually against a tree trunk, watching me with a thoughtful look on his face. "I guess I could have done that better." I was covered in dirt, my hair knotted, my dress bloodstained and hanging in tatters. Edward didn't come home from hunting trips looking like this. "You did perfectly fine," he assured me. "It's just that…it was much more difficult for me to watch than it should have been." I raised my eyebrows, confused. "It goes against the grain," he explained, "letting you wrestle with lions. I was having an anxiety attack the whole time." "Silly." "I know. Old habits die hard. I like the improvements to your dress, though." If I could have blushed, I would have. I changed the subject. "Why am I still thirsty?" "Because you're young." I sighed. "And I don't suppose there are any other mountain lions nearby." "Plenty of deer, though." I made a face. "They don't smell as good." "Herbivores. The meat-eaters smell more like humans," he explained. "Not that much like humans," I disagreed, trying not to remember. "We could go back," he said solemnly, but there was a teasing light in his eye. "Whoever it was out there, if they were men, they probably wouldn't even mind death if you were the one delivering it." His gaze ran over my ravaged dress again. "In fact, they would think they were already dead and gone to heaven the moment they saw you." I rolled my eyes and snorted. "Let's go hunt some stinking herbivores." We found a large herd of mule deer as we ran back toward home. He hunted with me this time, now that I'd gotten the hang of it. I brought down a large buck, making nearly as much of a mess as I had with the lion. He'd finished with two before I was done with the first, not a hair ruffled, not a spot on his white shirt. We chased the scattered and terrified herd, but instead of feeding again, this time I watched carefully to see how he was able to hunt so neatly. All the times that I had wished that Edward would not have to leave me behind when he hunted, I had secretly been just a little relieved. Because I was sure that seeing this would be frightening. Horrifying. That seeing him hunt would finally make him look like a vampire to me. Of course, it was much different from this perspective, as a vampire myself. But I doubted that even my human eyes would have missed the beauty here. It was a surprisingly sensual experience to observe Edward hunting. His smooth spring was like the sinuous strike of a snake; his hands were so sure, so strong, so completely inescapable; his full lips were perfect as they parted gracefully over his gleaming teeth. He was glorious. I felt a sudden jolt of both pride and desire. He was mine. Nothing could ever separate him from me now. I was too strong to be torn from his side. He was very quick. He turned to me and gazed curiously at my gloating expression. "No longer thirsty?" he asked. I shrugged. "You distracted me. You're much better at it than I am." "Centuries of practice." He smiled. His eyes were a disconcertingly lovely shade of honey gold now. "Just one," I corrected him. He laughed. "Are you done for today? Or did you want to continue?" "Done, I think." I felt very full, sort of sloshy, even. I wasn't sure how much more liquid would fit into my body. But the burn in my throat was only muted. Then again, I'd known that thirst was just an inescapable part of this life. And worth it. I felt in control. Perhaps my sense of security was false, but I did feel pretty good about not killing anyone today. If I could resist totally human strangers, wouldn't I be able to handle the werewolf and a half-vampire child that I loved? "I want to see Renesmee," I said. Now that my thirst was tamed (if nothing close to erased), my earlier worries were hard to forget. I wanted to reconcile the stranger who was my daughter with the creature I'd loved three days ago. It was so odd, so wrong not to have her inside me still. Abruptly, I felt empty and uneasy. He held out his hand to me. I took it, and his skin felt warmer than before. His cheek was faintly flushed, the shadows under his eyes all but vanished. I was unable to resist stroking his face again. And again. I sort of forgot that I was waiting for a response to my request as I stared into his shimmering gold eyes. It was almost as hard as it had been to turn away from the scent of human blood, but I somehow kept the need to be careful firmly in my head as I stretched up on my toes and wrapped my arms around him. Gently. He was not so hesitant in his movements; his arms locked around my waist and pulled me tight against his body. His lips crushed down on mine, but they felt soft. My lips no longer shaped themselves around his; they held their own. Like before, it was as if the touch of his skin, his lips, his hands, was sinking right through my smooth, hard skin and into my new bones. To the very core of my body. I hadn't imagined that I could love him more than I had. My old mind hadn't been capable of holding this much love. My old heart had not been strong enough to bear it. Maybe this was the part of me that I'd brought forward to be intensified in my new life. Like Carlisle's compassion and Esme's devotion. I would probably never be able to do anything interesting or special like Edward, Alice, and Jasper could do. Maybe I would just love Edward more than anyone in the history of the world had ever loved anyone else. I could live with that. I remembered parts of this—twisting my fingers in his hair, tracing the planes of his chest—but other parts were so new. He was new. It was an entirely different experience with Edward kissing me so fearlessly, so forcefully. I responded to his intensity, and then suddenly we were falling. "Oops," I said, and he laughed underneath me. "I didn't mean to tackle you like that. Are you okay?" He stroked my face. "Slightly better than okay." And then a perplexed expression crossed his face. "Renesmee?" he asked uncertainly, trying to ascertain what I wanted most in this moment. A very difficult question to answer, because I wanted so many things at the same time. I could tell that he wasn't exactly averse to procrastinating our return trip, and it was hard to think about much besides his skin on mine—there really wasn't that much left of the dress. But my memory of Renesmee, before and after her birth, was becoming more and more dreamlike to me. More unlikely. All my memories of her were human memories; an aura of artificiality clung to them. Nothing seemed real that I hadn't seen with these eyes, touched with these hands. Every minute, the reality of that little stranger slipped further away. "Renesmee," I agreed, rueful, and I whipped back up onto my feet, pulling him with me. 22. PROMISED THINKING OF RENESMEE BROUGHT HER TO THAT CENTER- stage place in my strange, new, and roomy but distractible mind. So many questions. "Tell me about her," I insisted as he took my hand. Being linked barely slowed us. "She's like nothing else in the world," he told me, and the sound of an almost religious devotion was there again in his voice. I felt a sharp pang of jealousy over this stranger. He knew her and I did not. It wasn't fair. "How much is she like you? How much like me? Or like I was, anyway." "It seems a fairly even divide." "She was warm-blooded," I remembered. "Yes. She has a heartbeat, though it runs a little bit faster than a human's. Her temperature is a little bit hotter than usual, too. She sleeps." "Really?" "Quite well for a newborn. The only parents in the world who don't need sleep, and our child already sleeps through the night." He chuckled. I liked the way he said our child. The words made her more real. "She has exactly your color eyes—so that didn't get lost, after all." He smiled at me. "They're so beautiful." "And the vampire parts?" I asked. "Her skin seems about as impenetrable as ours. Not that anyone would dream of testing that." I blinked at him, a little shocked. "Of course no one would," he assured me again. "Her diet…well, she prefers to drink blood. Carlisle continues to try to persuade her to drink some baby formula, too, but she doesn't have much patience with it. Can't say that I blame her—nasty-smelling stuff, even for human food." I gaped openly at him now. He made it sound like they were having conversations. "Persuade her?" "She's intelligent, shockingly so, and progressing at an immense pace. Though she doesn't speak—yet—she communicates quite effectively." "Doesn't. Speak. Yet." He slowed our pace further, letting me absorb this. "What do you mean, she communicates effectively?" I demanded. "I think it will be easier for you to…see for yourself. It's rather difficult to describe." I considered that. I knew there was a lot that I needed to see for myself before it would be real. I wasn't sure how much more I was ready for, so I changed the subject. "Why is Jacob still here?" I asked. "How can he stand it? Why should he?" My ringing voice trembled a little. "Why should he have to suffer more?" "Jacob isn't suffering," he said in a strange new tone. "Though I might be willing to change his condition," Edward added through his teeth. "Edward!" I hissed, yanking him to a stop (and feeling a little thrill of smugness that I was able to do it). "How can you say that? Jacob has given up everything to protect us! What I've put him through—!" I cringed at the dim memory of shame and guilt. It seemed odd now that I had needed him so much then. That sense of absence without him near had vanished; it must have been a human weakness. "You'll see exactly how I can say that," Edward muttered. "I promised him that I would let him explain, but I doubt you'll see it much differently than I do. Of course, I'm often wrong about your thoughts, aren't I?" He pursed his lips and eyed me. "Explain what?" Edward shook his head. "I promised. Though I don't know if I really owe him anything at all anymore…" His teeth ground together. "Edward, I don't understand." Frustration and indignation took over my head. He stroked my cheek and then smiled gently when my face smoothed out in response, desire momentarily overruling annoyance. "It's harder than you make it look, I know. I remember." "I don't like feeling confused." "I know. And so let's get you home, so that you can see it all for yourself." His eyes ran over the remains of my dress as he spoke of going home, and he frowned. "Hmm." After a half second of thought, he unbuttoned his white shirt and held it out for me to put my arms through. "That bad?" He grinned. I slipped my arms into his sleeves and then buttoned it swiftly over my ragged bodice. Of course, that left him without a shirt, and it was impossible not to find that distracting. "I'll race you," I said, and then cautioned, "no throwing the game this time!" He dropped my hand and grinned. "On your mark…" Finding my way to my new home was simpler than walking down Charlie's street to my old one. Our scent left a clear and easy trail to follow, even running as fast as I could. Edward had me beat till we hit the river. I took a chance and made my leap early, trying to use my extra strength to win. "Ha!" I exulted when I heard my feet touch the grass first. Listening for his landing, I heard something I did not expect. Something loud and much too close. A thudding heart. Edward was beside me in the same second, his hands clamped down hard on the tops of my arms. "Don't breathe," he cautioned me urgently. I tried not to panic as I froze mid-breath. My eyes were the only things that moved, wheeling instinctively to find the source of the sound. Jacob stood at the line where the forest touched the Cullens' lawn, his arms folded across his body, his jaw clenched tight. Invisible in the woods behind him, I heard now two larger hearts, and the faint crush of bracken under huge, pacing paws. "Carefully, Jacob," Edward said. A snarl from the forest echoed the concern in his voice. "Maybe this isn't the best way—" "You think it would be better to let her near the baby first?" Jacob interrupted. "It's safer to see how Bella does with me. I heal fast." This was a test? To see if I could not kill Jacob before I tried to not kill Renesmee? I felt sick in the strangest way—it had nothing to do with my stomach, only my mind. Was this Edward's idea? I glanced at his face anxiously; Edward seemed to deliberate for a moment, and then his expression twisted from concern into something else. He shrugged, and there was an undercurrent of hostility in his voice when he said, "It's your neck, I guess." The growl from the forest was furious this time; Leah, I had no doubt. What was with Edward? After all that we'd been through, shouldn't he have been able to feel some kindness for my best friend? I'd thought—maybe foolishly—that Edward was sort of Jacob's friend now, too. I must have misread them. But what was Jacob doing? Why would he offer himself as a test to protect Renesmee? It didn't make any sense to me. Even if our friendship had survived… And as my eyes met Jacob's now, I thought that maybe it had. He still looked like my best friend. But he wasn't the one who had changed. What did I look like to him? Then he smiled his familiar smile, the smile of a kindred spirit, and I was sure our friendship was intact. It was just like before, when we were hanging out in his homemade garage, just two friends killing time. Easy and normal. Again, I noticed that the strange need I'd felt for him before I'd changed was completely gone. He was just my friend, the way it was supposed to be. It still made no sense what he was doing now, though. Was he really so selfless that he would try to protect me—with his own life—from doing something in an uncontrolled split second that I would regret in agony forever? That went way beyond simply tolerating what I had become, or miraculously managing to stay my friend. Jacob was one of the best people I knew, but this seemed like too much to accept from anyone. His grin widened, and he shuddered slightly. "I gotta say it, Bells. You're a freak show." I grinned back, falling easily into the old pattern. This was a side of him I understood. Edward growled. "Watch yourself, mongrel." The wind blew from behind me and I quickly filled my lungs with the safe air so I could speak. "No, he's right. The eyes are really something, aren't they?" "Super-creepy. But it's not as bad as I thought it would be." "Gee—thanks for the amazing compliment!" He rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. You still look like you—sort of. Maybe it's not the look so much as…you are Bella. I didn't think it would feel like you were still here." He smiled at me again without a trace of bitterness or resentment anywhere in his face. Then he chuckled and said, "Anyway, I guess I'll get used to the eyes soon enough." "You will?" I asked, confused. It was wonderful that we were still friends, but it wasn't like we'd be spending much time together. The strangest look crossed his face, erasing the smile. It was almost…guilty? Then his eyes shifted to Edward. "Thanks," he said. "I didn't know if you'd be able to keep it from her, promise or not. Usually, you just give her everything she wants." "Maybe I'm hoping she'll get irritated and rip your head off," Edward suggested. Jacob snorted. "What's going on? Are you two keeping secrets from me?" I demanded, incredulous. "I'll explain later," Jacob said self-consciously—like he didn't really plan on it. Then he changed the subject. "First, let's get this show on the road." His grin was a challenge now as he started slowly forward. There was a whine of protest behind him, and then Leah's gray body slid out of the trees behind him. The taller, sandy-colored Seth was right behind her. "Cool it, guys," Jacob said. "Stay out of this." I was glad they didn't listen to him but only followed after him a little more slowly. The wind was still now; it wouldn't blow his scent away from me. He got close enough that I could feel the heat of his body in the air between us. My throat burned in response. "C'mon, Bells. Do your worst." Leah hissed. I didn't want to breathe. It wasn't right to take such dangerous advantage of Jacob, no matter if he was the one offering. But I couldn't get away from the logic. How else could I be sure that I wouldn't hurt Renesmee? "I'm getting older here, Bella," Jacob taunted. "Okay, not technically, but you get the idea. Go on, take a whiff." "Hold on to me," I said to Edward, cringing back into his chest. His hands tightened on my arms. I locked my muscles in place, hoping I could keep them frozen. I resolved that I would do at least as well as I had on the hunt. Worst-case scenario, I would stop breathing and run for it. Nervously, I took a tiny breath in through my nose, braced for anything. It hurt a little, but my throat was already burning dully anyway. Jacob didn't smell that much more human than the mountain lion. There was an animal edge to his blood that instantly repelled. Though the loud, wet sound of his heart was appealing, the scent that went with it made my nose wrinkle. It was actually easier with the smell to temper my reaction to the sound and heat of his pulsing blood. I took another breath and relaxed. "Huh. I can see what everyone's been going on about. You stink, Jacob." Edward burst into laughter; his hands slipped from my shoulders to wrap around my waist. Seth barked a low chortle in harmony with Edward; he came a little closer while Leah retreated several paces. And then I was aware of another audience when I heard Emmett's low, distinct guffaw, muffled a little by the glass wall between us. "Look who's talking," Jacob said, theatrically plugging his nose. His face didn't pucker at all while Edward embraced me, not even when Edward composed himself and whispered "I love you" in my ear. Jacob just kept grinning. This made me feel hopeful that things were going to be right between us, the way they hadn't been for so long now. Maybe now I could truly be his friend, since I disgusted him enough physically that he couldn't love me the same way as before. Maybe that was all that was needed. "Okay, so I passed, right?" I said. "Now are you going to tell me what this big secret is?" Jacob's expression became very nervous. "It's nothing you need to worry about this second…" I heard Emmett chuckle again—a sound of anticipation. I would have pressed my point, but as I listened to Emmett, I heard other sounds, too. Seven people breathing. One set of lungs moving more rapidly than the others. Only one heart fluttering like a bird's wings, light and quick. I was totally diverted. My daughter was just on the other side of that thin wall of glass. I couldn't see her—the light bounced off the reflective windows like a mirror. I could only see myself, looking very strange—so white and still—compared to Jacob. Or, compared to Edward, looking exactly right. "Renesmee," I whispered. Stress made me a statue again. Renesmee wasn't going to smell like an animal. Would I put her in danger? "Come and see," Edward murmured. "I know you can handle this." "You'll help me?" I whispered through motionless lips. "Of course I will." "And Emmett and Jasper—just in case?" "We'll take care of you, Bella. Don't worry, we'll be ready. None of us would risk Renesmee. I think you'll be surprised at how entirely she's already wrapped us all around her little fingers. She'll be perfectly safe, no matter what." My yearning to see her, to understand the worship in his voice, broke my frozen pose. I took a step forward. And then Jacob was in my way, his face a mask of worry. "Are you sure, bloodsucker?" he demanded of Edward, his voice almost pleading. I'd never heard him speak to Edward that way. "I don't like this. Maybe she should wait—" "You had your test, Jacob." It was Jacob's test? "But—," Jacob began. "But nothing," Edward said, suddenly exasperated. "Bella needs to see our daughter. Get out of her way." Jacob shot me an odd, frantic look and then turned and nearly sprinted into the house ahead of us. Edward growled. I couldn't make sense of their confrontation, and I couldn't concentrate on it, either. I could only think about the blurred child in my memory and struggle against the haziness, trying to remember her face exactly. "Shall we?" Edward said, his voice gentle again. I nodded nervously. He took my hand tightly in his and led the way into the house. They waited for me in a smiling line that was both welcoming and defensive. Rosalie was several paces behind the rest of them, near the front door. She was alone until Jacob joined her and then stood in front of her, closer than was normal. There was no sense of comfort in that closeness; both of them seemed to cringe from the proximity. Someone very small was leaning forward out of Rosalie's arms, peering around Jacob. Immediately, she had my absolute attention, my every thought, the way nothing else had owned them since the moment I'd opened my eyes. "I was out just two days?" I gasped, disbelieving. The stranger-child in Rosalie's arms had to be weeks, if not months, old. She was maybe twice the size of the baby in my dim memory, and she seemed to be supporting her own torso easily as she stretched toward me. Her shiny bronze-colored hair fell in ringlets past her shoulders. Her chocolate brown eyes examined me with an interest that was not at all childlike; it was adult, aware and intelligent. She raised one hand, reaching in my direction for a moment, and then reached back to touch Rosalie's throat. If her face had not been astonishing in its beauty and perfection, I wouldn't have believed it was the same child. My child. But Edward was there in her features, and I was there in the color of her eyes and cheeks. Even Charlie had a place in her thick curls, though their color matched Edward's. She must be ours. Impossible, but still true. Seeing this unanticipated little person did not make her more real, though. It only made her more fantastic. Rosalie patted the hand against her neck and murmured, "Yes, that's her." Renesmee's eyes stayed locked on mine. Then, as she had just seconds after her violent birth, she smiled at me. A brilliant flash of tiny, perfect white teeth. Reeling inside, I took a hesitant step toward her. Everyone moved very fast. Emmett and Jasper were right in front of me, shoulder to shoulder, hands ready. Edward gripped me from behind, fingers tight again on the tops of my arms. Even Carlisle and Esme moved to get Emmett's and Jasper's flanks, while Rosalie backed to the door, her arms clutching at Renesmee. Jacob moved, too, keeping his protective stance in front of them. Alice was the only one who held her place. "Oh, give her some credit," she chided them. "She wasn't going to do anything. You'd want a closer look, too." Alice was right. I was in control of myself. I'd been braced for anything—for a scent as impossibly insistent as the human smell in the woods. The temptation here was really not comparable. Renesmee's fragrance was perfectly balanced right on the line between the scent of the most beautiful perfume and the scent of the most delicious food. There was enough of the sweet vampire smell to keep the human part from being overwhelming. I could handle it. I was sure. "I'm okay," I promised, patting Edward's hand on my arm. Then I hesitated and added, "Keep close, though, just in case." Jasper's eyes were tight, focused. I knew he was taking in my emotional climate, and I worked on settling into a steady calm. I felt Edward free my arms as he read Jasper's assessment. But, though Jasper was getting it firsthand, he didn't seem as certain. When she heard my voice, the too-aware child struggled in Rosalie's arms, reaching toward me. Somehow, her expression managed to look impatient. "Jazz, Em, let us through. Bella's got this." "Edward, the risk—," Jasper said. "Minimal. Listen, Jasper—on the hunt she caught the scent of some hikers who were in the wrong place at the wrong time…" I heard Carlisle suck in a shocked breath. Esme's face was suddenly full of concern mingled with compassion. Jasper's eyes widened, but he nodded just a tiny bit, as if Edward's words answered some question in his head. Jacob's mouth screwed up into a disgusted grimace. Emmett shrugged. Rosalie seemed even less concerned than Emmett as she tried to hold on to the struggling child in her arms. Alice's expression told me that she was not fooled. Her narrowed eyes, focused with burning intensity on my borrowed shirt, seemed more worried about what I'd done to my dress than anything else. "Edward!" Carlisle chastened. "How could you be so irresponsible?" "I know, Carlisle, I know. I was just plain stupid. I should have taken the time to make sure we were in a safe zone before I set her loose." "Edward," I mumbled, embarrassed by the way they stared at me. It was like they were trying to see a brighter red in my eyes. "He's absolutely right to rebuke me, Bella," Edward said with a grin. "I made a huge mistake. The fact that you are stronger than anyone I've ever known doesn't change that." Alice rolled her eyes. "Tasteful joke, Edward." "I wasn't making a joke. I was explaining to Jasper why I know Bella can handle this. It's not my fault everyone jumped to conclusions." "Wait," Jasper gasped. "She didn't hunt the humans?" "She started to," Edward said, clearly enjoying himself. My teeth ground together. "She was entirely focused on the hunt." "What happened?" Carlisle interjected. His eyes were suddenly bright, an amazed smile beginning to form on his face. It reminded me of before, when he'd wanted the details on my transformation experience. The thrill of new information. Edward leaned toward him, animated. "She heard me behind her and reacted defensively. As soon as my pursuit broke into her concentration, she snapped right out of it. I've never seen anything to equal her. She realized at once what was happening, and then…she held her breath and ran away." "Whoa," Emmett murmured. "Seriously?" "He's not telling it right," I muttered, more embarrassed than before. "He left out the part where I growled at him." "Did ya get in a couple of good swipes?" Emmett asked eagerly. "No! Of course not." "No, not really? You really didn't attack him?" "Emmett!" I protested. "Aw, what a waste," Emmett groaned. "And here you're probably the one person who could take him—since he can't get in your head to cheat—and you had a perfect excuse, too." He sighed. "I've been dying to see how he'd do without that advantage." I glared at him frostily. "I would never." Jasper's frown caught my attention; he seemed even more disturbed than before. Edward touched his fist lightly to Jasper's shoulder in a mock punch. "You see what I mean?" "It's not natural," Jasper muttered. "She could have turned on you—she's only hours old!" Esme scolded, putting her hand against her heart. "Oh, we should have gone with you." I wasn't paying so much attention, now that Edward was past the punch line of his joke. I was staring at the gorgeous child by the door, who was still staring at me. Her little dimpled hands reached out toward me like she knew exactly who I was. Automatically, my hand lifted to mimic hers. "Edward," I said, leaning around Jasper to see her better. "Please?" Jasper's teeth were set; he didn't move. "Jazz, this isn't anything you've seen before," Alice said quietly. "Trust me." Their eyes met for a short second, and then Jasper nodded. He moved out of my way, but put one hand on my shoulder and moved with me as I walked slowly forward. I thought about every step before I took it, analyzing my mood, the burn in my throat, the position of the others around me. How strong I felt versus how well they would be able to contain me. It was a slow procession. And then the child in Rosalie's arms, struggling and reaching all this time while her expression got more and more irritated, let out a high, ringing wail. Everyone reacted as if—like me—they'd never heard her voice before. They swarmed around her in a second, leaving me standing alone, frozen in place. The sound of Renesmee's cry pierced right through me, spearing me to the floor. My eyes pricked in the strangest way, like they wanted to tear. It seemed like everyone had a hand on her, patting and soothing. Everyone but me. "What's the matter? Is she hurt? What happened?" It was Jacob's voice that was loudest, that raised anxiously above the others. I watched in shock as he reached for Renesmee, and then in utter horror as Rosalie surrendered her to him without a fight. "No, she's fine," Rosalie reassured him. Rosalie was reassuring Jacob? Renesmee went to Jacob willingly enough, pushing her tiny hand against his cheek and then squirming around to stretch toward me again. "See?" Rosalie told him. "She just wants Bella." "She wants me?" I whispered. Renesmee's eyes—my eyes—stared impatiently at me. Edward darted back to my side. He put his hands lightly on my arms and urged me forward. "She's been waiting for you for almost three days," he told me. We were only a few feet away from her now. Bursts of heat seemed to tremble out from her to touch me. Or maybe it was Jacob who was trembling. I saw his hands shaking as I got closer. And yet, despite his obvious anxiety, his face was more serene than I had seen it in a long time. "Jake—I'm fine," I told him. It made me panicky to see Renesmee in his shaking hands, but I worked to keep myself in control. He frowned at me, eyes tight, like he was just as panicky at the thought of Renesmee in my arms. Renesmee whimpered eagerly and stretched, her little hands grasping into fists again and again. Something in me clicked into place at that moment. The sound of her cry, the familiarity of her eyes, the way she seemed even more impatient than I did for this reunion—all of it wove together into the most natural of patterns as she clutched the air between us. Suddenly, she was absolutely real, and of course I knew her. It was perfectly ordinary that I should take that last easy step and reach for her, putting my hands exactly where they would fit best as I pulled her gently toward me. Jacob let his long arms stretch so that I could cradle her, but he didn't let go. He shuddered a little when our skin touched. His skin, always so warm to me before, felt like an open flame to me now. It was almost the same temperature as Renesmee's. Perhaps one or two degrees difference. Renesmee seemed oblivious to the coolness of my skin, or at least very used to it. She looked up and smiled at me again, showing her square little teeth and two dimples. Then, very deliberately, she reached for my face. The moment she did this, all the hands on me tightened, anticipating my reaction. I barely noticed. I was gasping, stunned and frightened by the strange, alarming image that filled my mind. It felt like a very strong memory—I could still see through my eyes while I watched it in my head—but it was completely unfamiliar. I stared through it to Renesmee's expectant expression, trying to understand what was happening, struggling desperately to hold on to my calm. Besides being shocking and unfamiliar, the image was also wrong somehow—I almost recognized my own face in it, my old face, but it was off, backward. I grasped quickly that I was seeing my face as others saw it, rather than flipped in a reflection. My memory face was twisted, ravaged, covered in sweat and blood. Despite this, my expression in the vision became an adoring smile; my brown eyes glowed over their deep circles. The image enlarged, my face came closer to the unseen vantage point, and then abruptly vanished. Renesmee's hand dropped from my cheek. She smiled wider, dimpling again. It was totally silent in the room but for the heartbeats. No one but Jacob and Renesmee was so much as breathing. The silence stretched on; it seemed like they were waiting for me to say something. "What…was…that?" I managed to choke out. "What did you see?" Rosalie asked curiously, leaning around Jacob, who seemed very much in the way and out of place at the moment. "What did she show you?" "She showed me that?" I whispered. "I told you it was hard to explain," Edward murmured in my ear. "But effective as means of communications go." "What was it?" Jacob asked. I blinked quickly several times. "Urn. Me. I think. But I looked terrible." "It was the only memory she had of you," Edward explained. It was obvious he'd seen what she was showing me as she thought of it. He was still cringing, his voice rough from reliving the memory. "She's letting you know that she's made the connection, that she knows who you are." "But how did she do that?" Renesmee seemed unconcerned with my boggling eyes. She was smiling slightly and pulling on a lock of my hair. "How do I hear thoughts? How does Alice see the future?" Edward asked rhetorically, and then shrugged. "She's gifted." "It's an interesting twist," Carlisle said to Edward. "Like she's doing the exact opposite of what you can." "Interesting," Edward agreed. "I wonder…" I knew they were speculating away, but I didn't care. I was staring at the most beautiful face in the world. She was hot in my arms, reminding me of the moment when the blackness had almost won, when there was nothing in the world left to hold on to. Nothing strong enough to pull me through the crushing darkness. The moment when I'd thought of Renesmee and found something I would never let go of. "I remember you, too," I told her quietly. It seemed very natural to lean in and press my lips to her forehead. She smelled wonderful. The scent of her skin set my throat burning, but it was easy to ignore. It didn't strip the joy from the moment. Renesmee was real and I knew her. She was the same one I'd fought for from the beginning. My little nudger, the one who loved me from the inside, too. Half Edward, perfect and lovely. And half me—which, surprisingly, made her better rather than detracting. I'd been right all along. She was worth the fight. "She's fine," Alice murmured, probably to Jasper. I could feel them hovering, not trusting me. "Haven't we experimented enough for one day?" Jacob asked, his voice a slightly higher pitch with stress. "Okay, Bella's doing great, but let's not push it." I glared at him with real irritation. Jasper shuffled uneasily next to me. We were all crowded so close that every tiny movement seemed very big. "What is your problem, Jacob?" I demanded. I tugged lightly against his hold on Renesmee, and he just stepped closer to me. He was pressed right up to me, Renesmee touching both of our chests. Edward hissed at him. "Just because I understand, it doesn't mean I won't throw you out, Jacob. Bella's doing extraordinarily well. Don't ruin the moment for her." "I'll help him toss you, dog," Rosalie promised, her voice seething. "I owe you a good kick in the gut." Obviously, there was no change in that relationship, unless it had gotten worse. I glared at Jacob's anxious half-angry expression. His eyes were locked on Renesmee's face. With everyone pressed together, he had to be touching at least six different vampires at the moment, and it didn't even seem to bug him. Would he really go through all this just to protect me from myself? What could have happened during my transformation—my alteration into something he hated—that would soften him so much toward the reason for its necessity? I puzzled over it, watching him stare at my daughter. Staring at her like…like he was a blind man seeing the sun for the very first time. "No!" I gasped. Jasper's teeth came together and Edward's arms wrapped around my chest like constricting boas. Jacob had Renesmee out of my arms in the same second, and I did not try to hold on to her. Because I felt it coming—the snap that they'd all been waiting for. "Rose," I said through my teeth, very slowly and precisely. "Take Renesmee." Rosalie held her hands out, and Jacob handed my daughter to her at once. Both of them backed away from me. "Edward, I don't want to hurt you, so please let go of me." He hesitated. "Go stand in front of Renesmee," I suggested. He deliberated, and then let me go. I leaned into my hunting crouch and took two slow steps forward toward Jacob. "You didn't," I snarled at him. He backed away, palms up, trying to reason with me. "You know it's not something I can control." "You stupid mutt! How could you? My baby!" He backed out the front door now as I stalked him, half-running backward down the stairs. "It wasn't my idea, Bella!" "I've held her all of one time, and already you think you have some moronic wolfy claim to her? She's mine." "I can share," he said pleadingly as he retreated across the lawn. "Pay up," I heard Emmett say behind me. A small part of my brain wondered who had bet against this outcome. I didn't waste much attention on it. I was too furious. "How dare you imprint on my baby? Have you lost your mind?" "It was involuntary!" he insisted, backing into the trees. Then he wasn't alone. The two huge wolves reappeared, flanking him on either side. Leah snapped at me. A fearsome snarl ripped through my teeth back at her. The sound disturbed me, but not enough to stop my advance. "Bella, would you try to listen for just a second? Please?" Jacob begged. "Leah, back off," he added. Leah curled her lip at me and didn't move. "Why should I listen?" I hissed. Fury reigned in my head. It clouded everything else out. "Because you're the one who told me this. Do you remember? You said we belonged in each other's lives, right? That we were family. You said that was how you and I were supposed to be. So…now we are. It's what you wanted." I glared ferociously. I did dimly remember those words. But my new quick brain was two steps ahead of his nonsense. "You think you'll be part of my family as my son-in-law!" I screeched. My bell voice ripped through two octaves and still came out sounding like music. Emmett laughed. "Stop her, Edward," Esme murmured. "She'll be unhappy if she hurts him." But I felt no pursuit behind me. "No!" Jacob was insisting at the same time. "How can you even look at it that way? She's just a baby, for crying out loud!" "That's my point!" I yelled. "You know I don't think of her that way! Do you think Edward would have let me live this long if I did? All I want is for her to be safe and happy—is that so bad? So different from what you want?" He was shouting right back at me. Beyond words, I shrieked a growl at him. "Amazing, isn't she?" I heard Edward murmur. "She hasn't gone for his throat even once," Carlisle agreed, sounding stunned. "Fine, you win this one," Emmett said grudgingly. "You're going to stay away from her," I hissed up at Jacob. "I can't do that!" Through my teeth: "Try. Starting now." "It's not possible. Do you remember how much you wanted me around three days ago? How hard it was to be apart from each other? That's gone for you now, isn't it?" I glared, not sure what he was implying. "That was her," he told me. "From the very beginning. We had to be together, even then." I remembered, and then I understood; a tiny part of me was relieved to have the madness explained. But that relief somehow only made me angrier. Was he expecting that to be enough for me? That one little clarification would make me okay with this? "Run away while you still can," I threatened. "C'mon, Bells! Nessie likes me, too," he insisted. I froze. My breathing stopped. Behind me, I heard the lack of sound that was their anxious reaction. "What…did you call her?" Jacob took a step farther back, managing to look sheepish. "Well," he mumbled, "that name you came up with is kind of a mouthful and—" "You nicknamed my daughter after the Loch Ness Monster?" I screeched. And then I lunged for his throat. 23. MEMORIES "I'M SO SORRY, SETH. I SHOULD HAVE BEEN CLOSER." Edward was still apologizing, and I didn't think that was either fair or appropriate. After all, Edward hadn't completely and inexcusably lost control of his temper. Edward hadn't tried to rip Jacob's head off—Jacob, who wouldn't even phase to protect himself—and then accidentally broken Seth's shoulder and collarbone when he jumped in between. Edward hadn't almost killed his best friend. Not that the best friend didn't have a few things to answer for, but, obviously, nothing Jacob had done could have mitigated my behavior. So shouldn't I have been the one apologizing? I tried again. "Seth, I—" "Don't worry about it, Bella, I'm totally fine," Seth said at the same time that Edward said, "Bella, love, no one is judging you. You're doing so well." They hadn't let me finish a sentence yet. It only made it worse that Edward was having a difficult time keeping the smile off his face. I knew that Jacob didn't deserve my overreaction, but Edward seemed to find something satisfying in it. Maybe he was just wishing that he had the excuse of being a newborn so that he could do something physical about his irritation with Jacob, too. I tried to erase the anger from my system entirely, but it was hard, knowing that Jacob was outside with Renesmee right now. Keeping her safe from me, the crazed newborn. Carlisle secured another piece of the brace to Seth's arm, and Seth winced. "Sorry, sorry!" I mumbled, knowing I'd never get a fully articulated apology out. "Don't freak, Bella," Seth said, patting my knee with his good hand while Edward rubbed my arm from the other side. Seth seemed to feel no aversion to having me sit beside him on the sofa as Carlisle treated him. "I'll be back to normal in half an hour," he continued, still patting my knee as if oblivious to the cold, hard texture of it. "Anyone would have done the same, what with Jake and Ness—" He broke off mid-word and changed the subject quickly. "I mean, at least you didn't bite me or anything. That would've sucked." I buried my face in my hands and shuddered at the thought, at the very real possibility. It could have happened so easily. And werewolves didn't react to vampire venom the same way humans did, they'd told me only now. It was poison to them. "I'm a bad person." "Of course you aren't. I should have—," Edward started. "Stop that," I sighed. I didn't want him taking the blame for this the way he always took everything on himself. "Lucky thing Ness—Renesmee's not venomous," Seth said after a second of awkward silence. –Cause she bites Jake all the time." My hands dropped. "She does?" "Sure. Whenever he and Rose don't get dinner in her mouth fast enough. Rose thinks it's pretty hilarious." I stared at him, shocked, and also feeling guilty, because I had to admit that this pleased me a teensy bit in a petulant way. Of course, I already knew that Renesmee wasn't venomous. I was the first person she'd bitten. I didn't make this observation aloud, as I was feigning memory loss on those recent events. "Well, Seth," Carlisle said, straightening up and stepping away from us. "I think that's as much as I can do. Try to not move for, oh, a few hours, I guess." Carlisle chuckled. "I wish treating humans were this instantaneously gratifying." He rested his hand for a moment on Seth's black hair. "Stay still," he ordered, and then he disappeared upstairs. I heard his office door close, and I wondered if they'd already removed the evidence of my time there. "I can probably manage sitting still for a while," Seth agreed after Carlisle was already gone, and then he yawned hugely. Carefully, making sure not to tweak his shoulder, Seth leaned his head against the sofa's back and closed his eyes. Seconds later, his mouth fell slack. I frowned at his peaceful face for another minute. Like Jacob, Seth seemed to have the gift of falling asleep at will. Knowing I wouldn't be able to apologize again for a while, I got up; the motion didn't jostle the couch in the slightest. Everything physical was so easy. But the rest … Edward followed me to the back windows and took my hand. Leah was pacing along the river, stopping every now and then to look at the house. It was easy to tell when she was looking for her brother and when she was looking for me. She alternated between anxious glances and murderous glares. I could hear Jacob and Rosalie outside on the front steps bickering quietly over whose turn it was to feed Renesmee. Their relationship was as antagonistic as ever; the only thing they agreed on now was that I should be kept away from my baby until I was one hundred percent recovered from my temper tantrum. Edward had disputed their verdict, but I'd let it go. I wanted to be sure, too. I was worried, though, that my one hundred percent sure and their one hundred percent sure might be very different things. Other than their squabbling, Seth's slow breathing, and Leah's annoyed panting, it was very quiet. Emmett, Alice, and Esme were hunting. Jasper had stayed behind to watch me. He stood unobtrusively behind the newel post now, trying not to be obnoxious about it. I took advantage of the calm to think of all the things Edward and Seth had told me while Carlisle splinted Seth's arm. I'd missed a whole lot while I was burning, and this was the first real chance to catch up. The main thing was the end of the feud with Sam's pack—which was why the others felt safe to come and go as they pleased again. The truce was stronger than ever. Or more binding, depending on your viewpoint, I imagined. Binding, because the most absolute of all the pack's laws was that no wolf ever kill the object of another wolf's imprinting. The pain of such a thing would be intolerable for the whole pack. The fault, whether intended or accidental, could not be forgiven; the wolves involved would fight to the death—there was no other option. It had happened long ago, Seth told me, but only accidentally. No wolf would ever intentionally destroy a brother that way. So Renesmee was untouchable because of the way Jacob now felt about her. I tried to concentrate on the relief of this fact rather than the chagrin, but it wasn't easy. My mind had enough room to feel both emotions intensely at the same time. And Sam couldn't get mad about my transformation, either, because Jacob—speaking as the rightful Alpha—had allowed it. It rankled to realize over and over again how much I owed Jacob when I just wanted to be mad at him. I deliberately redirected my thoughts in order to control my emotions. I considered another interesting phenomenon; though the silence between the separate packs continued, Jacob and Sam had discovered that Alphas could speak to each other while in their wolf form. It wasn't the same as before; they couldn't hear every thought the way they had prior to the split. It was more like speaking aloud, Seth had said. Sam could only hear the thoughts Jacob wanted to share, and vice versa. They found they could communicate over distance, too, now that they were talking to each other again. They hadn't found all this out until Jacob had gone alone—over Seth's and Leah's objections—to explain to Sam about Renesmee; it was the only time he'd left Renesmee since first laying eyes on her. Once Sam had understood how absolutely everything had changed, he'd come back with Jacob to talk to Carlisle. They'd spoken in human form (Edward had refused to leave my side to translate), and the treaty had been renewed. The friendly feeling of the relationship, however, might never be the same. One big worry down. But there was another that, though not as physically dangerous as an angry wolf pack, still seemed more urgent to me. Charlie. He'd spoken to Esme earlier this morning, but that hadn't kept him from calling again, twice, just a few minutes ago while Carlisle treated Seth. Carlisle and Edward had let the phone ring. What would be the right thing to tell him? Were the Cullens right? Was telling him that I'd died the best, the kindest way? Would I be able to lie still in a coffin while he and my mother cried over me? It didn't seem right to me. But putting Charlie or Renee in danger of the Volturi's obsession with secrecy was clearly out of the question. There was still my idea—let Charlie see me, when I was ready for that, and let him make his own wrong assumptions. Technically, the vampire rules would remain unbroken. Wouldn't it be better for Charlie if he knew that I was alive—sort of—and happy? Even if I was strange and different and probably frightening to him? My eyes, in particular, were much too frightening right now. How long before my self-control and my eye color were ready for Charlie? "What's the matter, Bella?" Jasper asked quietly, reading my growing tension. "No one is angry with you"— a low snarl from the riverside contradicted him, but he ignored it—"or even surprised, really. Well, I suppose we are surprised. Surprised that you were able to snap out of it so quickly. You did well. Better than anyone expects of you." While he was speaking, the room became very calm. Seth's breathing slipped into a low snore. I felt more peaceful, but I didn't forget my anxieties. "I was thinking about Charlie, actually." Out front, the bickering cut off. "Ah," Jasper murmured. "We really have to leave, don't we?" I asked. "For a while, at the very least. Pretend we're in Atlanta or something." I could feel Edward's gaze locked on my face, but I looked at Jasper. He was the one who answered me in a grave tone. "Yes. It's the only way to protect your father." I brooded for a moment. "I'm going to miss him so much. I'll miss everyone here." Jacob, I thought, despite myself. Though that yearning was both vanished and defined—and I was vastly relieved that it was—he was still my friend. Someone who knew the real me and accepted her. Even as a monster. I thought about what Jacob had said, pleading with me before I'd attacked him. You said we belonged in each other's lives, right? That we were family. You said that was how you and I were supposed to be. So…now we are. It's what you wanted. But it didn't feel like how I'd wanted it. Not exactly. I remembered further back, to the fuzzy, weak memories of my human life. Back to the very hardest part to remember—the time without Edward, a time so dark I'd tried to bury it in my head. I couldn't get the words exactly right; I only remembered wishing that Jacob were my brother so that we could love each other without any confusion or pain. Family. But I'd never factored a daughter into the equation. I remembered a little later—one of the many times that I'd told Jacob goodbye—wondering aloud who he would end up with, who would make his life right after what I'd done to it. I had said something about how whoever she was, she wouldn't be good enough for him. I snorted, and Edward raised one eyebrow questioningly. I just shook my head at him. But as much as I might miss my friend, I knew there was a bigger problem. Had Sam or Jared or Quil ever gone a whole day without seeing the objects of their fixations, Emily, Kim, and Claire? Could they? What would the separation from Renesmee do to Jacob? Would it cause him pain? There was still enough petty ire in my system to make me glad, not for his pain, but for the idea of having Renesmee away from him. How was I supposed to deal with having her belong to Jacob when she only barely seemed to belong to me? The sound of movement on the front porch interrupted my thoughts. I heard them get up, and then they were through the door. At exactly the same time, Carlisle came down the stairs with his hands full of odd things—a measuring tape, a scale. Jasper darted to my side. As if there was some signal I'd missed, even Leah sat down outside and stared through the window with an expression like she was expecting something that was both familiar and also totally uninteresting. "Must be six," Edward said. "So?" I asked, my eyes locked on Rosalie, Jacob, and Renesmee. They stood in the doorway, Renesmee in Rosalie's arms. Rose looked wary. Jacob looked troubled. Renesmee looked beautiful and impatient. "Time to measure Ness—er, Renesmee," Carlisle explained. "Oh. You do this every day?" "Four times a day," Carlisle corrected absently as he motioned the others toward the couch. I thought I saw Renesmee sigh. "Four times? Every day? Why?" "She's still growing quickly," Edward murmured to me, his voice quiet and strained. He squeezed my hand, and his other arm wrapped securely around my waist, almost as if he needed the support. I couldn't take my eyes off Renesmee to check his expression. She looked perfect, absolutely healthy. Her skin glowed like backlit alabaster; the color in her cheeks was rose petals against it. There couldn't be anything wrong with such radiant beauty. Surely there could be nothing more dangerous in her life than her mother. Could there? The difference between the child I'd given birth to and the one I'd met again an hour ago would have been obvious to anyone. The difference between Renesmee an hour ago and Renesmee now was subtler. Human eyes never would have detected it. But it was there. Her body was slightly longer. Just a little bit slimmer. Her face wasn't quite as round; it was more oval by one minute degree. Her ringlets hung a sixteenth of an inch lower down her shoulders. She stretched out helpfully in Rosalie's arms while Carlisle ran the tape measure down the length of her and then used it to circle her head. He took no notes; perfect recall. I was aware that Jacob's arms were crossed as tightly over his chest as Edward's arms were locked around me. His heavy brows were mashed together into one line over his deep-set eyes. She had matured from a single cell to a normal-sized baby in the course of a few weeks. She looked well on her way to being a toddler just days after her birth. If this rate of growth held … My vampire mind had no trouble with the math. "What do we do?" I whispered, horrified. Edward's arms tightened. He understood exactly what I was asking. "I don't know." "It's slowing," Jacob muttered through his teeth. "We'll need several more days of measurements to track the trend, Jacob. I can't make any promises." "Yesterday she grew two inches. Today it's less." "By a thirty-second of an inch, if my measurements are perfect," Carlisle said quietly. "Be perfect, Doc," Jacob said, making the words almost threatening. Rosalie stiffened. "You know I'll do my best," Carlisle assured him. Jacob sighed. "Guess that's all I can ask." I felt irritated again, like Jacob was stealing my lines—and delivering them all wrong. Renesmee seemed irritated, too. She started to squirm and then reached her hand imperiously toward Rosalie. Rosalie leaned forward so that Renesmee could touch her face. After a second, Rose sighed. "What does she want?" Jacob demanded, taking my line again. "Bella, of course," Rosalie told him, and her words made my insides feel a little warmer. Then she looked at me. "How are you?" "Worried," I admitted, and Edward squeezed me. "We all are. But that's not what I meant." "I'm in control," I promised. Thirstiness was way down the list right now. Besides, Renesmee smelled good in a very non-food way. Jacob bit his lip but made no move to stop Rosalie as she offered Renesmee to me. Jasper and Edward hovered but allowed it. I could see how tense Rose was, and I wondered how the room felt to Jasper right now. Or was he focusing so hard on me that he couldn't feel the others? Renesmee reached for me as I reached for her, a blinding smile lighting her face. She fit so easily in my arms, like they'd been shaped just for her. Immediately, she put her hot little hand against my cheek. Though I was prepared, it still made me gasp to see the memory like a vision in my head. So bright and colorful but also completely transparent. She was remembering me charging Jacob across the front lawn, remembering Seth leaping between us. She'd seen and heard it all with perfect clarity. It didn't look like me, this graceful predator leaping at her prey like an arrow arcing from a bow. It had to be someone else. That made me feel a very small bit less guilty as Jacob stood there defenselessly with his hands raised in front of him. His hands did not tremble. Edward chuckled, watching Renesmee's thoughts with me. And then we both winced as we heard the crack of Seth's bones. Renesmee smiled her brilliant smile, and her memory eyes did not leave Jacob through all the following mess. I tasted a new flavor to the memory—not exactly protective, more possessive—as she watched Jacob. I got the distinct impression that she was glad Seth had put himself in front of my spring. She didn't want Jacob hurt. He was hers. "Oh, wonderful," I groaned. "Perfect." "It's just because he tastes better than the rest of us," Edward assured me, voice stiff with his own annoyance. "I told you she likes me, too," Jacob teased from across the room, his eyes on Renesmee. His joking was halfhearted; the tense angle of his eyebrows had not relaxed. Renesmee patted my face impatiently, demanding my attention. Another memory: Rosalie pulling a brush gently through each of her curls. It felt nice. Carlisle and his tape measure, knowing she had to stretch and be still. It was not interesting to her. "It looks like she's going to give you a rundown of everything you missed," Edward commented in my ear. My nose wrinkled as she dumped the next one on me. The smell coming from a strange metal cup—hard enough not to be bitten through easily—sent a flash burn through my throat. Ouch. And then Renesmee was out of my arms, which were pinned behind my back. I didn't struggle with Jasper; I just looked at Edward's frightened face. "What did I do?" Edward looked at Jasper behind me, and then at me again. "But she was remembering being thirsty," Edward muttered, his forehead pressing into lines. "She was remembering the taste of human blood." Jasper's arms pulled mine tighter together. Part of my head noted that this wasn't particularly uncomfortable, let alone painful, as it would have been to a human. It was just annoying. I was sure I could break his hold, but I didn't fight it. "Yes," I agreed. "And?" Edward frowned at me for a second more, and then his expression loosened. He laughed once. "And nothing at all, it seems. The overreaction is mine this time. Jazz, let her go." The binding hands disappeared. I reached out for Renesmee as soon as I was free. Edward handed her to me without hesitation. "I can't understand," Jasper said. "I can't bear this." I watched in surprise as Jasper strode out the back door. Leah moved to give him a wide margin of space as he paced to the river and then launched himself over it in one bound. Renesmee touched my neck, repeating the scene of departure right back, like an instant replay. I could feel the question in her thought, an echo of mine. I was already over the shock of her odd little gift. It seemed an entirely natural part of her, almost to be expected. Maybe now that I was part of the supernatural myself, I would never be a skeptic again. But what was wrong with Jasper? "He'll be back," Edward said, whether to me or Renesmee, I wasn't sure. "He just needs a moment alone to readjust his perspective on life." There was a grin threatening at the corners of his mouth. Another human memory—Edward telling me that Jasper would feel better about himself if I "had a hard time adjusting" to being a vampire. This was in the context of a discussion about how many people I would kill my first newborn year. "Is he mad at me?" I asked quietly. Edward's eyes widened. "No. Why would he be?" "What's the matter with him, then?" "He's upset with himself, not you, Bella. He's worrying about…selffulfilling prophecy, I suppose you could say." "How so?" Carlisle asked before I could. "He's wondering if the newborn madness is really as difficult as we've always thought, or if, with the right focus and attitude, anyone could do as well as Bella. Even now—perhaps he only has such difficulty because he believes it's natural and unavoidable. Maybe if he expected more of himself, he would rise to those expectations. You're making him question a lot of deep-rooted assumptions, Bella." "But that's unfair," Carlisle said. "Everyone is different; everyone has their own challenges. Perhaps what Bella is doing goes beyond the natural. Maybe this is her gift, so to speak." I froze with surprise. Renesmee felt the change, and touched me. She remembered the last second of time and wondered why. "That's an interesting theory, and quite plausible," Edward said. For a tiny space, I was disappointed. What? No magic visions, no formidable offensive abilities like, oh, shooting lightning bolts from my eyes or something? Nothing helpful or cool at all? And then I realized what that might mean, if my "superpower" was no more than exceptional self-control. For one thing, at least I had a gift. It could have been nothing. But, much more than that, if Edward was right, then I could skip right over the part I'd feared the very most. What if I didn't have to be a newborn? Not in the crazed killing- machine sense, anyway. What if I could fit right in with the Cullens from my first day? What if we didn't have to hide out somewhere remote for a year while I "grew up"? What if, like Carlisle, I never killed a single person? What if I could be a good vampire right away? I could see Charlie. I sighed as soon as reality filtered through hope. I couldn't see Charlie right away. The eyes, the voice, the perfected face. What could I possibly say to him; how could I even begin? I was furtively glad that I had some excuses for putting things off for a while; as much as I wanted to find some way to keep Charlie in my life, I was terrified of that first meeting. Seeing his eyes pop as he took in my new face, my new skin. Knowing that he was frightened. Wondering what dark explanation would form in his head. I was chicken enough to wait for a year while my eyes cooled. And here I'd thought I would be so fearless when I was indestructible. "Have you ever seen an equivalent to self-control as a talent?" Edward asked Carlisle. "Do you really think that's a gift, or just a product of all her preparation?" Carlisle shrugged. "It's slightly similar to what Siobhan has always been able to do, though she wouldn't call it a gift." "Siobhan, your friend in that Irish coven?" Rosalie asked. "I wasn't aware that she did anything special. I thought it was Maggie who was talented in that bunch." "Yes, Siobhan thinks the same. But she has this way of deciding her goals and then almost . .. willing them into reality. She considers it good planning, but I've always wondered if it was something more. When she included Maggie, for instance. Liam was very territorial, but Siobhan wanted it to work out, and so it did." Edward, Carlisle, and Rosalie settled into chairs as they continued with the discussion. Jacob sat next to Seth protectively, looking bored. From the way his eyelids drooped, I was sure he'd be unconscious momentarily. I listened, but my attention was divided. Renesmee was still telling me about her day. I held her by the window wall, my arms rocking her automatically as we stared into each other's eyes. I realized that the others had no reason for sitting down. I was perfectly comfortable standing. It was just as restful as stretching out on a bed would be. I knew I would be able to stand like this for a week without moving and I would feel just as relaxed at the end of the seven days as I did at the beginning. They must sit out of habit. Humans would notice someone standing for hours without ever shifting her weight to a different foot. Even now, I saw Rosalie brush her fingers against her hair and Carlisle cross his legs. Little motions to keep from being too still, too much a vampire. I would have to pay attention to what they did and start practicing. I rolled my weight back to my left leg. It felt kind of silly. Maybe they were just trying to give me a little alone time with my baby—as alone as was safe. Renesmee told me about every minute happening of the day, and I got the feeling from the tenor of her little stories that she wanted me to know her every bit as much I wanted the same thing. It worried her that I had missed things—like the sparrows that had hopped closer and closer when Jacob had held her, both of them very still beside one of the big hemlocks; the birds wouldn't come close to Rosalie. Or the outrageously icky white stuff—baby formula—that Carlisle had put in her cup; it smelled like sour dirt. Or the song Edward had crooned to her that was so perfect Renesmee played it for me twice; I was surprised that I was in the background of that memory, perfectly motionless but looking fairly battered still. I shuddered, remembering that time from my own perspective. The hideous fire … After almost an hour—the others were still deeply absorbed in their discussion, Seth and Jacob snoring in harmony on the couch— Renesmee's memory stories began to slow. They got slightly blurry around the edges and drifted out of focus before they came to their conclusions. I was about to interrupt Edward in a panic—was there something wrong with her?—when her eyelids fluttered and closed. She yawned, her plump pink lips stretching into a round 0, and her eyes never reopened. Her hand fell away from my face as she drifted to sleep—the backs of her eyelids were the pale lavender color of thin clouds before the sunrise. Careful not to disturb her, I lifted that hand back to my skin and held it there curiously. At first there was nothing, and then, after a few minutes, a flickering of colors like a handful of butterflies were scattering from her thoughts. Mesmerized, I watched her dreams. There was no sense to it. Just colors and shapes and faces. I was pleased by how often my face—both of my faces, hideous human and glorious immortal—cropped up in her unconscious thoughts. More than Edward or Rosalie. I was neck and neck with Jacob; I tried not to let that get to me. For the first time, I understood how Edward had been able to watch me sleep night after boring night, just to hear me talk in my sleep. I could watch Renesmee dream forever. The change in Edward's tone caught my attention when he said, "Finally," and turned to gaze out the window. It was deep, purply night outside, but I could see just as far as before. Nothing was hidden in the darkness; everything had just changed colors. Leah, still glowering, got up and slunk into the brush just as Alice came into view on the other side of the river. Alice swung back and forth from a branch like a trapeze artist, toes touching hands, before throwing her body into a graceful flat spin over the river. Esme made a more traditional leap, while Emmett charged right through the water, splashing water so far that splatters hit the back windows. To my surprise, Jasper followed after, his own efficient leap seeming understated, even subtle, after the others. The huge grin stretching Alice's face was familiar in a dim, odd way. Everyone was suddenly smiling at me—Esme sweet, Emmett excited, Rosalie a little superior, Carlisle indulgent, and Edward expectant. Alice skipped into the room ahead of everyone else, her hand stretched out in front of her and impatience making a nearly visible aura around her. In her palm was an everyday brass key with an oversized pink satin bow tied around it. She held the key out for me, and I automatically gripped Renesmee more securely in my right arm so that I could open my left. Alice dropped the key into it. "Happy birthday!" she squealed. I rolled my eyes. "No one starts counting on the actual day of birth," I reminded her. "Your first birthday is at the year mark, Alice." Her grin turned smug. "We're not celebrating your vampire birthday. Yet. It's September thirteenth, Bella. Happy nineteenth birthday!" 24 . SURPRISE "NO. NO WAY!" I SHOOK MY HEAD FIERCELY AND THEN shot a glance at the smug smile on my seventeen-year-old husband's face. "No, this doesn't count. I stopped aging three days ago. I am eighteen forever." "Whatever," Alice said, dismissing my protest with a quick shrug. "We're celebrating anyway, so suck it up." I sighed. There was rarely a point to arguing with Alice. Her grin got impossibly wider as she read the acquiescence in my eyes. "Are you ready to open your present?" Alice sang. "Presents," Edward corrected, and he pulled another key—this one longer and silver with a less gaudy blue bow—from his pocket. I struggled to keep from rolling my eyes. I knew immediately what this key was to—the "after car." I wondered if I should feel excited. It seemed the vampire conversion hadn't given me any sudden interest in sports cars. "Mine first," Alice said, and then stuck her tongue out, foreseeing his answer. "Mine is closer." "But look at how she's dressed."' Alice's words were almost a moan. "It's been killing me all day. That is clearly the priority." My eyebrows pulled together as I wondered how a key could get me into new clothes. Had she gotten me a whole trunkful? "I know—I'll play you for it," Alice suggested. "Rock, paper, scissors." Jasper chuckled and Edward sighed. "Why don't you just tell me who wins?" Edward said wryly. Alice beamed. "I do. Excellent." "It's probably better that I wait for morning, anyway." Edward smiled crookedly at me and then nodded toward Jacob and Seth, who looked like they were crashed for the night; I wonder how long they'd stayed up this time. "I think it might be more fun if Jacob was awake for the big reveal, don't you agree? So that someone there is able to express the right level of enthusiasm?" I grinned back. He knew me well. "Yay," Alice sang. "Bella, give Ness—Renesmee to Rosalie." "Where does she usually sleep?" Alice shrugged. "In Rose's arms. Or Jacob's. Or Esme's. You get the picture. She has never been set down in her entire life. She's going to be the most spoiled half-vampire in existence." Edward laughed while Rosalie took Renesmee expertly in her arms. "She is also the most unspoiled half-vampire in existence," Rosalie said. "The beauty of being one of a kind." Rosalie grinned at me, and I was glad to see that the new comradeship between us was still there in her smile. I hadn't been entirely sure it would last after Renesmee's life was no longer tied to mine. But maybe we had fought together on the same side long enough that we would always be friends now. I'd finally made the same choice she would have if she'd been in my shoes. That seemed to have washed away her resentment for all my other choices. Alice shoved the beribboned key in my hand, then grabbed my elbow and steered me toward the back door. "Let's go, let's go," she trilled. "Is it outside?" "Sort of," Alice said, pushing me forward. "Enjoy your gift," Rosalie said. "It's from all of us. Esme especially." "Aren't you coming, too?" I realized that no one had moved. "We'll give you a chance to appreciate it alone," Rosalie said. "You can tell us about it…later." Emmett guffawed. Something about his laugh made me feel like blushing, though I wasn't sure why. I realized that lots of things about me—like truly hating surprises, and not liking gifts in general much more—had not changed one bit. It was a relief and revelation to discover how much of my essential core traits had come with me into this new body. I hadn't expected to be myself I smiled widely. Alice tugged my elbow, and I couldn't stop smiling as I followed her into the purple night. Only Edward came with us. "There's the enthusiasm I'm looking for," Alice murmured approvingly. Then she dropped my arm, made two lithe bounds, and leaped over the river. "C'mon, Bella," she called from the other side. Edward jumped at the same time I did; it was every bit as fun as it had been this afternoon. Maybe a little bit more fun because the night changed everything into new, rich colors. Alice took off with us on her heels, heading due north. It was easier to follow the sound of her feet whispering against the ground and the fresh path of her scent than it was to keep my eyes on her through the thick vegetation. At no sign I could see, she whirled and dashed back to where I paused. "Don't attack me," she warned, and sprang at me. "What are you doing?" I demanded, squirming as she scrambled onto my back and wrapped her hands around my face. I felt the urge to throw her off, but I controlled it. "Making sure you can't see." "I could take care of that without the theatrics," Edward offered. "You might let her cheat. Take her hand and lead her forward." "Alice, I—" "Don't bother, Bella. We're doing this my way." I felt Edward's fingers weave through mine. "Just a few seconds more, Bella. Then she'll go annoy someone else." He pulled me forward. I kept up easily. I wasn't afraid of hitting a tree; the tree would be the only one getting hurt in that scenario. "You might be a little more appreciative," Alice chided him. "This is as much for you as it is for her." "True. Thank you again, Alice." "Yeah, yeah. Okay." Alice's voice suddenly shot up with excitement. "Stop there. Turn her just a little to the right. Yes, like that. Okay. Are you ready?" she squeaked. "I'm ready." There were new scents here, piquing my interest, increasing my curiosity. Scents that didn't belong in the deep woods. Honeysuckle. Smoke. Roses. Sawdust? Something metallic, too. The richness of deep earth, dug up and exposed. I leaned toward the mystery. Alice hopped down from my back, releasing her grip on my eyes. I stared into the violet dark. There, nestled into a small clearing in the forest, was a tiny stone cottage, lavender gray in the light of the stars. It belonged here so absolutely that it seemed as if it must have grown from the rock, a natural formation. Honeysuckle climbed up one wall like a lattice, winding all the way up and over the thick wooden shingles. Late summer roses bloomed in a handkerchief-sized garden under the dark, deep-set windows. There was a little path of flat stones, amethyst in the night, that led up to the quaint arched wooden door. I curled my hand around the key I held, shocked. "What do you think?" Alice's voice was soft now; it fit with the perfect quiet of the storybook scene. I opened my mouth but said nothing. "Esme thought we might like a place of our own for a while, but she didn't want us too far away," Edward murmured. "And she loves any excuse to renovate. This little place has been crumbling away out here for at least a hundred years." I continued staring, mouth gaping like a fish. "Don't you like it?" Alice's face fell. "I mean, I'm sure we could fix it up differently, if you want. Emmett was all for adding a few thousand square feet, a second story, columns, and a tower, but Esme thought you would like it best the way it was meant to look." Her voice started to climb, to go faster. "If she was wrong, we can get back to work. It won't take long to—" "Shh!" I managed. She pressed her lips together and waited. It took me a few seconds to recover. "You're giving me a house for my birthday?" I whispered. "Us," Edward corrected. "And it's no more than a cottage. I think the word house implies more legroom." "No knocking my house," I whispered to him. Alice beamed. "You like it." I shook my head. "Love it?" I nodded. "I can't wait to tell Esme!" "Why didn't she come?" Alice's smile faded a little, twisted just off what it had been, like my question was hard to answer. "Oh, you know…they all remember how you are about presents. They didn't want to put you under too much pressure to like it." "But of course I love it. How could I not?" "They'll like that." She patted my arm. "Anyhoo, your closet is stocked. Use it wisely. And…I guess that's everything." "Aren't you going to come inside?" She strolled casually a few feet back. "Edward knows his way around. I'll stop by…later. Call me if you can't match your clothes right." She threw me a doubtful look and then smiled. "Jazz wants to hunt. See you." She shot off into the trees like the most graceful bullet. "That was weird," I said when the sound of her flight had vanished completely. "Am I really that bad? They didn't have to stay away. Now I feel guilty. I didn't even thank her right. We should go back, tell Esme— " "Bella, don't be silly. No one thinks you're that unreasonable." "Then what—" "Alone time is their other gift. Alice was trying to be subtle about it." "Oh." That was all it took to make the house disappear. We could have been anywhere. I didn't see the trees or the stones or the stars. It was just Edward. "Let me show you what they've done," he said, pulling my hand. Was he oblivious to the fact that an electric current was pulsing through my body like adrenaline-spiked blood? Once again I felt oddly off balance, waiting for reactions my body wasn't capable of anymore. My heart should have been thundering like a steam engine about to hit us. Deafening. My cheeks should have been brilliant red. For that matter, I ought to have been exhausted. This had been the longest day of my life. I laughed out loud—just one quiet little laugh of shock—when I realized that this day would never end. "Do I get to hear the joke?" "It's not a very good one," I told him as he led the way to the little rounded door. "I was just thinking—today is the first and last day of forever. It's kind of hard to wrap my head around it. Even with all this extra room for wrapping." I laughed again. He chuckled with me. He held his hand out toward the doorknob, waiting for me to do the honors. I stuck the key in the lock and turned it. "You're such a natural at this, Bella; I forget how very strange this all must be for you. I wish I could hear it." He ducked down and yanked me up into his arms so fast that I didn't see it coming—and that was really something. "Hey!" "Thresholds are part of my job description," he reminded me. "But I'm curious. Tell me what you're thinking about right now." He opened the door—it fell back with a barely audible creak—and stepped through into the little stone living room. "Everything," I told him. "All at the same time, you know. Good things and things to worry about and things that are new. How I keep using too many superlatives in my head. Right now, I'm thinking that Esme is an artist. It's so perfect!" The cottage room was something from a fairy tale. The floor was a crazy quilt of smooth, flat stones. The low ceiling had long exposed beams that someone as tall as Jacob would surely knock his head on. The walls were warm wood in some places, stone mosaics in others. The beehive fireplace in the corner held the remains of a slow flickering fire. It was driftwood burning there—the low flames were blue and green from the salt. It was furnished in eclectic pieces, not one of them matching another, but harmonious just the same. One chair seemed vaguely medieval, while a low ottoman by the fire was more contemporary and the stocked bookshelf against the far window reminded me of movies set in Italy. Somehow each piece fit together with the others like a big three- dimensional puzzle. There were a few paintings on the walls that I recognized—some of my very favorites from the big house. Priceless originals, no doubt, but they seemed to belong here, too, like all the rest. It was a place where anyone could believe magic existed. A place where you just expected Snow White to walk right in with her apple in hand, or a unicorn to stop and nibble at the rosebushes. Edward had always thought that he belonged to the world of horror stories. Of course, I'd known he was dead wrong. It was obvious that he belonged here. In a fairy tale. And now I was in the story with him. I was about to take advantage of the fact that he hadn't gotten around to setting me back on my feet and that his wits-scramblingly beautiful face was only inches away when he said, "We're lucky Esme thought to add an extra room. No one was planning for Ness—Renesmee." I frowned at him, my thoughts channeled down a less pleasant path. "Not you, too," I complained. "Sorry, love. I hear it in their thoughts all the time, you know. It's rubbing off on me." I sighed. My baby, the sea serpent. Maybe there was no help for it. Well, I wasn't giving in. "I'm sure you're dying to see the closet. Or, at least I'll tell Alice that you were, to make her feel good." "Should I be afraid?" "Terrified." He carried me down a narrow stone hallway with tiny arches in the ceiling, like it was our own miniature castle. "That will be Renesmee's room," he said, nodding to an empty room with a pale wooden floor. "They didn't have time to do much with it, what with the angry werewolves…" I laughed quietly, amazed at how quickly everything had turned right when it had all had looked so nightmarish just a week ago. Drat Jacob for making everything perfect this way. "Here's our room. Esme tried to bring some of her island back here for us. She guessed that we would get attached." The bed was huge and white, with clouds of gossamer floating down from the canopy to the floor. The pale wood floor matched the other room, and now I grasped that it was precisely the color of a pristine beach. The walls were that almost-white-blue of a brilliant sunny day, and the back wall had big glass doors that opened into a little hidden garden. Climbing roses and a small round pond, smooth as a mirror and edged with shiny stones. A tiny, calm ocean for us. "Oh" was all I could say. "I know," he whispered. We stood there for a minute, remembering. Though the memories were human and clouded, they took over my mind completely. He smiled a wide, gleaming smile and then laughed. "The closet is through those double doors. I should warn you—it's bigger than this room." I didn't even glance at the doors. There was nothing else in the world but him again—his arms curled under me, his sweet breath on my face, his lips just inches from mine—and there was nothing that could distract me now, newborn vampire or not. "We're going to tell Alice that I ran right to the clothes," I whispered, twisting my fingers into his hair and pulling my face closer to his. "We're going to tell her I spent hours in there playing dress-up. We're going to lie." He caught up to my mood in an instant, or maybe he'd already been there, and he was just trying to let me fully appreciate my birthday present, like a gentleman. He pulled my face to his with a sudden fierceness, a low moan in his throat. The sound sent the electric current running through my body into a near-frenzy, like I couldn't get close enough to him fast enough. I heard the fabric tearing under our hands, and I was glad my clothes, at least, were already destroyed. It was too late for his. It felt almost rude to ignore the pretty white bed, but we just weren't going to make it that far. This second honeymoon wasn't like our first. Our time on the island had been the epitome of my human life. The very best of it. I'd been so ready to string along my human time, just to hold on to what I had with him for a little while longer. Because the physical part wasn't going to be the same ever again. I should have guessed, after a day like today, that it would be better. I could really appreciate him now—could properly see every beautiful line of his perfect face, of his long, flawless body with my strong new eyes, every angle and every plane of him. I could taste his pure, vivid scent on my tongue and feel the unbelievable silkiness of his marble skin under my sensitive fingertips. My skin was so sensitive under his hands, too. He was all new, a different person as our bodies tangled gracefully into one on the sand-pale floor. No caution, no restraint. No fear— especially not that. We could love together—both active participants now. Finally equals. Like our kisses before, every touch was more than I was used to. So much of himself he'd been holding back. Necessary at the time, but I couldn't believe how much I'd been missing. I tried to keep in mind that I was stronger than he was, but it was hard to focus on anything with sensations so intense, pulling my attention to a million different places in my body every second; if I hurt him, he didn't complain. A very, very small part of my head considered the interesting conundrum presented in this situation. I was never going to get tired, and neither was he. We didn't have to catch our breath or rest or eat or even use the bathroom; we had no more mundane human needs. He had the most beautiful, perfect body in the world and I had him all to myself, and it didn't feel like I was ever going to find a point where I would think, Now I've had enough for one day. I was always going to want more. And the day was never going to end. So, in such a situation, how did we ever stop? It didn't bother me at all that I had no answer. I sort of noticed when the sky began to lighten. The tiny ocean outside turned from black to gray, and a lark started to sing somewhere very close by—maybe she had a nest in the roses. "Do you miss it?" I asked him when her song was done. It wasn't the first time we'd spoken, but we weren't exactly keeping up a conversation, either. "Miss what?" he murmured. "All of it—the warmth, the soft skin, the tasty smell … I'm not losing anything at all, and I just wondered if it was a little bit sad for you that you were." He laughed, low and gentle. "It would be hard to find someone less sad than I am now. Impossible, I'd venture. Not many people get every single thing they want, plus all the things they didn't think to ask for, in the same day." "Are you avoiding the question?" He pressed his hand against my face. "You are warm," he told me. It was true, in a sense. To me, his hand was warm. It wasn't the same as touching Jacob's flame-hot skin, but it was more comfortable. More natural. Then he pulled his fingers very slowly down my face, lightly tracing from my jaw to my throat and then all the way down to my waist. My eyes rolled back into my head a little. "You are soft." His fingers were like satin against my skin, so I could see what he meant. "And as for the scent, well, I couldn't say I missed that. Do you remember the scent of those hikers on our hunt?" "I've been trying very hard not to." "Imagine kissing that." My throat ripped into flames like pulling the cord on a hot-air balloon. "Oh." "Precisely. So the answer is no. I am purely full of joy, because I am missing nothing. No one has more than I do now." I was about to inform him of the one exception to his statement, but my lips were suddenly very busy. When the little pool turned pearl-colored with the sunrise, I thought of another question for him. "How long does this go on? I mean, Carlisle and Esme, Em and Rose, Alice and Jasper—they don't spend all day locked in their rooms. They're out in public, fully clothed, all the time. Does this…craving ever let up?" I twisted myself closer into him—quite an accomplishment, actually—to make it clear what I was talking about. "That's difficult to say. Everyone is different and, well, so far you're the very most different of all. The average young vampire is too obsessed with thirst to notice much else for a while. That doesn't seem to apply to you. With the average vampire, though, after that first year, other needs make themselves known. Neither thirst nor any other desire really ever fades. It's simply a matter of learning to balance them, learning to prioritize and manage…" "How long?" He smiled, wrinkling his nose a little. "Rosalie and Emmett were the worst. It took a solid decade before I could stand to be within a five-mile radius of them. Even Carlisle and Esme had a difficult time stomaching it. They kicked the happy couple out eventually. Esme built them a house, too. It was grander than this one, but then, Esme knows what Rose likes, and she knows what you like." "So, after ten years, then?" I was pretty sure that Rosalie and Emmett had nothing on us, but it might sound cocky if I went higher than a decade. "Everybody is normal again? Like they are now?" Edward smiled again. "Well, I'm not sure what you mean by normal. You've seen my family going about life in a fairly human way, but you've been sleeping nights." He winked at me. "There's a tremendous amount of time left over when you don't have to sleep. It makes balancing your…interests quite easy. There's a reason why I'm the best musician in the family, why—besides Carlisle—I've read the most books, studied the most sciences, become fluent in the most languages… Emmett would have you believe that I'm such a know-it-all because of the mind reading, but the truth is that I've just had a lot of free time." We laughed together, and the motion of our laughter did interesting things to the way our bodies were connected, effectively ending that conversation. 25. FAVOR IT WAS ONLY A LITTLE WHILE LATER THAT EDWARD reminded me of my priorities. It took him just one word. "Renesmee…" I sighed. She would be awake soon. It must be nearly seven in the morning. Would she be looking for me? Abruptly, something close to panic had my body freezing up. What would she look like today? Edward felt the total distraction of my stress. "It's all right, love. Get dressed, and we'll be back to the house in two seconds." I probably looked like a cartoon, the way I sprung up, then looked back at him—his diamond body faintly glinting in the diffuse light—then away to the west, where Renesmee waited, then back at him again, then back toward her, my head whipping from side to side a half dozen times in a second. Edward smiled, but didn't laugh; he was a strong man. "It's all about balance, love. You're so good at all of this, I don't imagine it will take too long to put everything in perspective." "And we have all night, right?" He smiled wider. "Do you think I could bear to let you get dressed now if that weren't the case?" That would have to be enough to get me through the daylight hours. I would balance this overwhelming, devastating desire so that I could be a good— It was hard to think the word. Though Renesmee was very real and vital in my life, it was still difficult to think of myself as a mother. I supposed anyone would feel the same, though, without nine months to get used to the idea. And with a child that changed by the hour. The thought of Renesmee's speeding life had me stressed-out again in an instant. I didn't even pause at the ornately carved double doors to catch my breath before finding out what Alice had done. I just burst through, intent on wearing the first things I touched. I should have known it wouldn't be that easy. "Which ones are mine?" I hissed. As promised, the room was bigger than our bedroom. It might have been bigger than the rest of the house put together, but I'd have to pace it off to be positive. I had a brief mental flash of Alice trying to persuade Esme to ignore classic proportions and allow this monstrosity. I wondered how Alice had won that one. Everything was wrapped in garment bags, pristine and white, row after row after row. "To the best of my knowledge, everything but this rack here"—he touched a bar that stretched along the half-wall to the left of the door— "is yours." "All of this?" He shrugged.