قصة توايلايت الجزء التالت اكليبس

[مريم]

Eclipse
Twilight Book 3
Stephenie Meyer
To my husband, Pancho,
for your patience, love, friendship, humor,
and willingness to eat out.
And also to my children, Gabe, Seth, and Eli,
for letting me experience the kind of love that people freely die for.
Fire and Ice
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
Robert Frost
PREFACE
ALL OUR ATTEMPTS AT SUBTERFUGE HAD BEEN IN VAIN.
With ice in my heart, I watched him prepare to defend me. His intense concentration betrayed no hint of
doubt, though he was outnumbered. I knew that we could expect no help — at this moment, his family
was fighting for their lives just as surely as he was for ours.
Would I ever learn the outcome of that other fight? Find out who the winners and the losers were?
Would I live long enough for that?
The odds of that didn’t look so great.
Black eyes, wild with their fierce craving for my death, watched for the moment when my protector’s
attention would be diverted. The moment when I would surely die
Somewhere, far, far away in the cold forest, a wolf howled.
1. ULTIMATUM
Bella,
I don’t know why you’re making Charlie carry notes to Billy like we’re in second grade — if I wanted
to talk to you I would answer the
You made the choice here, okay? You can’t have it both ways when
What part of ‘mortal enemies’ is too complicated for you to
Look, I know I’m being a jerk, but there’s just no way around
We can’t be friends when you’re spending all your time with a bunch of
It just makes it worse when I think about you too much, so don’t write anymore
Yeah, I miss you, too. A lot. Doesn’t change anything. Sorry.
Jacob
I ran my fingers across the page, feeling the dents where he had pressed the pen to the paper so hard
that it had nearly broken through. I could picture him writing this — scrawling the angry letters in his
rough handwriting, slashing through line after line when the words came out wrong, maybe even snapping
the pen in his too-big hand; that would explain the ink splatters. I could imagine the frustration pulling his
black eyebrows together and crumpling his forehead. If I’d been there, I might have laughed.Don’t give
yourself a brain hemorrhage, Jacob, I would have told him.Just spit it out.
Laughing was the last thing I felt like doing now as I reread the words I’d already memorized. His
answer to my pleading note — passed from Charlie to Billy to him, just like second grade, as he’d
pointed out — was no surprise. I’d known the essence of what it would say before I’d opened it.
What was surprising was how much each crossed-out line wounded me — as if the points of the letters
had cutting edges. More than that, behind each angry beginning lurked a vast pool of hurt; Jacob’s pain
cut me deeper than my own.
While I was pondering this, I caught the unmistakable scent of a smoking burner rising from the kitchen.
In another house, the fact that someone besides myself was *****ng might not be a cause for panicking.
I shoved the wrinkled paper into my back pocket and ran, making it downstairs in the nick of time.
The jar of spaghetti sauce Charlie’d stuck in the microwave was only on its first revolution when I
yanked the door open and pulled it out.
“What did I do wrong?” Charlie demanded.
“You’re supposed to take the lid off first, Dad. Metal’s bad for microwaves.” I swiftly removed the lid
as I spoke, poured half the sauce into a bowl, and then put the bowl inside the microwave and the jar
back in the fridge; I fixed the time and pressed start.
Charlie watched my adjustments with pursed lips. “Did I get the noodles right?”
I looked in the pan on the stove — the source of the smell that had alerted me. “Stirring helps,” I said
mildly. I found a spoon and tried to de-clump the mushy hunk that was scalded to the bottom.
Charlie sighed.
“So what’s all this about?” I asked him.
He folded his arms across his chest and glared out the back windows into the sheeting rain. “Don’t
know what you’re talking about,” he grumbled.
I was mystified. Charlie *****ng? And what was with the surly attitude? Edward wasn’t here yet; usually
my dad reserved this kind of behavior for my boyfriend’s benefit, doing his best to illustrate the theme of
“unwelcome” with every word and posture. Charlie’s efforts were unnecessary — Edward knew exactly
what my dad was thinking without the show.
The wordboyfriend had me chewing on the inside of my cheek with a familiar tension while I stirred. It
wasn’t the right word, not at all. I needed something more expressive of eternal commitment. . . . But
words likedestiny andfate sounded hokey when you used them in casual conversation.
Edward had another word in mind, and that word was the source of the tension I felt. It put my teeth on
edge just to think it to myself.
Fiancée. Ugh. I shuddered away from the thought.
“Did I miss something? Since when do you make dinner?” I asked Charlie. The pasta lump bobbed in
the boiling water as I poked it. “Ortry to make dinner, I should say.”
Charlie shrugged. “There’s no law that says I can’t **** in my own house.”
“You would know,” I replied, grinning as I eyed the badge pinned to his leather jacket.
“Ha. Good one.” He shrugged out of the jacket as if my glance had reminded him he still had it on, and
hung it on the peg reserved for his gear. His gun belt was already slung in place — he hadn’t felt the need
to wear that to the station for a few weeks. There had been no more disturbing disappearances to trouble
the small town of Forks, Washington, no more sightings of the giant, mysterious wolves in the ever-rainy
woods. . . .
I prodded the noodles in silence, guessing that Charlie would get around to talking about whatever was
bothering him in his own time. My dad was not a man of many words, and the effort he had put into
trying to orchestrate a sit-down dinner with me made it clear there were an uncharacteristic number of
words on his mind.
I glanced at the clock routinely — something I did every few minutes around this time. Less than a half
hour to go now.
Afternoons were the hardest part of my day. Ever since my former best friend (and werewolf), Jacob
Black, had informed on me about the motorcycle I’d been riding on the sly — a betrayal he had devised
in order to get me grounded so that I couldn’t spend time with my boyfriend (and vampire), Edward
Cullen — Edward had been allowed to see me only from seven till nine-thirty p.m., always inside the
confines of my home and under the supervision of my dad’s unfailingly crabby glare.
This was an escalation from the previous, slightly less stringent grounding that I’d earned for an
unexplained three-day disappearance and one episode of cliff diving.
Of course, I still saw Edward at school, because there wasn’t anything Charlie could do about that. And
then, Edward spent almost every night in my room, too, but Charlie wasn’t precisely aware of that.
Edward’s ability to climb easily and silently through my second-story window was almost as useful as his
ability to read Charlie’s mind.
Though the afternoon was the only time I spent away from Edward, it was enough to make me restless,
and the hours always dragged. Still, I endured my punishment without complaining because — for one
thing — I knew I’d earned it, and — for another — because I couldn’t bear to hurt my dad by moving
out now, when a much more permanent separation hovered, invisible to Charlie, so close on my horizon.
My dad sat down at the table with a grunt and unfolded the damp newspaper there; within seconds he
was clucking his tongue in disapproval.
“I don’t know why you read the news, Dad. It only ticks you off.”
He ignored me, grumbling at the paper in his hands. “This is why everyone wants to live in a small town!
Ridiculous.”
“What have big cities done wrong now?”
“Seattle’s making a run for murder capital of the country. Five unsolved homicides in the last two weeks.
Can you imagine living like that?”
“I think Phoenix is actually higher up the homicide list, Dad. Ihave lived like that.” And I’d never come
close to being a murder victim until after I moved to his safe little town. In fact, I was still on several hit
lists. . . . The spoon shook in my hands, making the water tremble.
“Well, you couldn’t pay me enough,” Charlie said.
I gave up on saving dinner and settled for serving it; I had to use a steak knife to cut a portion of
spaghetti for Charlie and then myself, while he watched with a sheepish expression. Charlie coated his
helping with sauce and dug in. I disguised my own clump as well as I could and followed his example
without much enthusiasm. We ate in silence for a moment. Charlie was still scanning the news, so I
picked up my much-abused copy ofWuthering Heights from where I’d left it this morning at breakfast,
and tried to lose myself in turn-of-the-century England while I waited for him to start talking.
I was just to the part where Heathcliff returns when Charlie cleared his throat and threw the paper to the
floor.
“You’re right,” Charlie said. “I did have a reason for doing this.” He waved his fork at the gluey spread.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
I laid the book aside; the binding was so destroyed that it slumped flat to the table. “You could have just
asked.”
He nodded, his eyebrows pulling together. “Yeah. I’ll remember that next time. I thought taking dinner
off your hands would soften you up.”
I laughed. “It worked — your *****ng skills have me soft as a marshmallow. What do you need, Dad?”
“Well, it’s about Jacob.”
I felt my face harden. “What about him?” I asked through stiff lips.
“Easy, Bells. I know you’re still upset that he told on you, but it was the right thing. He was being
responsible.”
“Responsible,” I repeated scathingly, rolling my eyes. “Right. So, what about Jacob?”
The careless question repeated inside my head, anything but trivial.What about Jacob? Whatwas I
going to do about him? My former best friend who was now . . . what? My enemy? I cringed.
Charlie’s face was suddenly wary. “Don’t get mad at me, okay?”
“Mad?”
“Well, it’s about Edward, too.”
My eyes narrowed.
Charlie’s voice got gruffer. “I let him in the house, don’t I?”
“You do,” I admitted. “For brief periods of time. Of course, you might let meout of the house for brief
periods now and then, too,” I continued — only jokingly; I knew I was on lockdown for the duration of
the school year. “I’ve been pretty good lately.”
“Well, that’s kind of where I was heading with this. . . .” And then Charlie’s face stretched into an
unexpected eye-crinkling grin; for a second he looked twenty years younger.
I saw a dim glimmer of possibility in that smile, but I proceeded slowly. “I’m confused, Dad. Are we
talking about Jacob, or Edward, or me being grounded?”
The grin flashed again. “Sort of all three.”
“And how do they relate?” I asked, cautious.
“Okay.” He sighed, raising his hands as if in surrender. “So I’m thinking maybe you deserve a parole for
good behavior. For a teenager, you’re amazingly non-whiney.”
My voice and eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? I’m free?”
Where was this coming from? I’d been positive I would be under house arrest until I actually moved out,
and Edward hadn’t picked up any wavering in Charlie’s thoughts. . . .
Charlie held up one finger. “Conditionally.”
The enthusiasm vanished. “Fantastic,” I groaned.
“Bella, this is more of a request than a demand, okay? You’re free. But I’m hoping you’ll use that
freedom . . . judiciously.”
“What does that mean?”
He sighed again. “I know you’re satisfied to spend all of your time with Edward —”
“I spend time with Alice, too,” I interjected. Edward’s sister had no hours of visitation; she came and
went as she pleased. Charlie was putty in her capable hands.
“That’s true,” he said. “But you have other friends besides the Cullens, Bella. Or youused to.”
We stared at each other for a long moment.
“When was the last time you spoke to Angela Weber?” he threw at me.
“Friday at lunch,” I answered immediately.
Before Edward’s return, my school friends had polarized into two groups. I liked to think of those
groups asgood vs.evil. Us andthem worked, too. The good guys were Angela, her steady boyfriend
Ben Cheney, and Mike Newton; these three had all very generously forgiven me for going crazy when
Edward left. Lauren Mallory was the evil core of thethem side, and almost everyone else, including my
first friend in Forks, Jessica Stanley, seemed ******* to go along with her anti-Bella agenda.
With Edward back at school, the dividing line had become even more distinct.
Edward’s return had taken its toll on Mike’s friendship, but Angela was unswervingly loyal, and Ben
followed her lead. Despite the natural aversion most humans felt toward the Cullens, Angela sat dutifully
beside Alice every day at lunch. After a few weeks, Angela even looked comfortable there. It was
difficult not to be charmed by the Cullens — once one gave them the chance to be charming.
“Outside of school?” Charlie asked, calling my attention back.
“I haven’t seenanyone outside of school, Dad. Grounded, remember? And Angela has a boyfriend, too.
She’s always with Ben.If I’m really free,” I added, heavy on the skepticism, “maybe we could double.”
“Okay. But then . . .” He hesitated. “You and Jake used to be joined at the hip, and now —”
I cut him off. “Can you get to the point, Dad? What’s your condition — exactly?”
“I don’t think you should dump all your other friends for your boyfriend, Bella,” he said in a stern voice.
“It’s not nice, and I think your life would be better balanced if you kept some other people in it. What
happened last September . . .”
I flinched.
Well,” he said defensively. “If you’d had more of a life outside of Edward Cullen, it might not have been
like that.”
“It would have been exactly like that,” I muttered.
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“The point?” I reminded him.
“Use your new freedom to see your other friends, too. Keep it balanced.”
I nodded slowly. “Balance is good. Do I have specific time quotas to fill, though?”
He made a face, but shook his head. “I don’t want to make this complicated. Just don’t forget your
friends . . .”
It was a dilemma I was already struggling with. My friends. People who, for their own safety, I would
never be able to see again after graduation.
So what was the better course of action? Spend time with them while I could? Or start the separation
now to make it more gradual? I quailed at the idea of the second option.
“. . . particularly Jacob,” Charlie added before I could think things through more than that.
A greater dilemma than the first. It took me a moment to find the right words. “Jacob might be . . .
difficult.”
“The Blacks are practically family, Bella,” he said, stern and fatherly again. “And Jacob has been a very,
very good friend to you.”
“I know that.”
“Don’t you miss him at all?” Charlie asked, frustrated.
My throat suddenly felt swollen; I had to clear it twice before I answered. “Yes, I do miss him,” I
admitted, still looking down. “I miss him a lot.”
“Then why is it difficult?”
It wasn’t something I was at liberty to explain. It was against the rules for normal people —human
people like me and Charlie — to know about the clandestine world full of myths and monsters that
existed secretly around us. I knew all about that world — and I was in no small amount of trouble as a
result. I wasn’t about to get Charlie in the same trouble.
“With Jacob there is a . . . conflict,” I said slowly. “A conflict about the friendship thing, I mean.
Friendship doesn’t always seem to be enough for Jake.” I wound my excuse out of details that were true
but insignificant, hardly crucial compared to the fact that Jacob’s werewolf pack bitterly hated Edward’s
vampire family — and therefore me, too, as I fully intended to join that family. It just wasn’t something I
could work out with him in a note, and he wouldn’t answer my calls. But my plan to deal with the
werewolf in person had definitely not gone over well with the vampires.
“Isn’t Edward up for a little healthy competition?” Charlie’s voice was sarcastic now.
I leveled a dark look at him. “There’s no competition.”
“You’re hurting Jake’s feelings, avoiding him like this. He’d rather be just friends than nothing.”
Oh, nowI was avoidinghim ?
“I’m pretty sure Jake doesn’t want to be friends at all.” The words burned in my mouth. “Where’d you
get that idea, anyway?”
Charlie looked embarrassed now. “The subject might have come up today with Billy. . . .”
“You and Billy gossip like old women,” I complained, stabbing my fork viciously into the congealed
spaghetti on my plate.
“Billy’s worried about Jacob,” Charlie said. “Jake’s having a hard time right now. . . . He’s depressed.”
I winced, but kept my eyes on the blob.
“And then you were always so happy after spending the day with Jake.” Charlie sighed.
“I’m happynow ,” I growled fiercely through my teeth.
The contrast between my words and tone broke through the tension. Charlie burst into laughter, and I
had to join in.
“Okay, okay,” I agreed. “Balance.”
“And Jacob,” he insisted.
“I’ll try.”
“Good. Find that balance, Bella. And, oh, yeah, you’ve got some mail,” Charlie said, closing the subject
with no attempt at subtlety. “It’s by the stove.”
I didn’t move, my thoughts twisting into snarls around Jacob’s name. It was most likely junk mail; I’d
just gotten a package from my mom yesterday and I wasn’t expecting anything else.
Charlie shoved his chair away from the table and stretched as he got to his feet. He took his plate to the
sink, but before he turned the water on to rinse it, he paused to toss a thick envelope at me. The letter
skidded across the table andthunk ed into my elbow.
“Er, thanks,” I muttered, puzzled by his pushiness. Then I saw the return address — the letter was from
the University of Alaska Southeast. “That was quick. I guess I missed the deadline on that one, too.”
Charlie chuckled.
I flipped the envelope over and then glared up at him. “It’s open.”
“I was curious.”
“I’m shocked, Sheriff. That’s a federal crime.”
“Oh, just read it.”
I pulled out the letter, and a folded schedule of courses.
“Congratulations,” he said before I could read anything. “Your first acceptance.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“We should talk about tuition. I’ve got some money saved up —”
“Hey, hey, none of that. I’m not touching your retirement, Dad. I’ve got my college fund.” What was left
of it — and there hadn’t been much to begin with.
Charlie frowned. “Some of these places are pretty pricey, Bells. I want to help. You don’t have to go to
all the way to Alaska just because it’s cheaper.”
It wasn’t cheaper, not at all. But itwas far away, and Juneau had an average of three hundred
twenty-one overcast days per year. The first was my prerequisite, the second was Edward’s.
“I’ve got it covered. Besides, there’s lots of financial aid out there. It’s easy to get loans.” I hoped my
bluff wasn’t too obvious. I hadn’t actually done a lot of research on the subject.
“So . . . ,” Charlie began, and then he pursed his lips and looked away.
“So what?”
“Nothing. I was just . . .” He frowned. “Just wondering what . . . Edward’s plans are for next year?”
“Oh.”
“Well?”
Three quick raps on the door saved me. Charlie rolled his eyes and I jumped up.
“Coming!” I called while Charlie mumbled something that sounded like, “Go away.” I ignored him and
went to let Edward in.
I wrenched the door out of my way — ridiculously eager — and there he was, my personal miracle.
Time had not made me immune to the perfection of his face, and I was sure that I would never take any
aspect of him for granted. My eyes traced over his pale white features: the hard square of his jaw, the
softer curve of his full lips — twisted up into a smile now, the straight line of his nose, the sharp angle of
his cheekbones, the smooth marble span of his forehead — partially obscured by a tangle of
rain-darkened bronze hair. . . .
I saved his eyes for last, knowing that when I looked into them I was likely to lose my train of thought.
They were wide, warm with liquid gold, and framed by a thick fringe of black lashes. Staring into his eyes
always made me feel extraordinary — sort of like my bones were turning spongy. I was also a little
lightheaded, but that could have been because I’d forgotten to keep breathing. Again.
It was a face any male model in the world would trade his soul for. Of course, that might be exactly the
asking price: one soul.
No. I didn’t believe that. I felt guilty for even thinking it, and was glad — as I was often glad — that I
was the one person whose thoughts were a mystery to Edward.
I reached for his hand, and sighed when his cold fingers found mine. His touch brought with it the
strangest sense of relief — as if I’d been in pain and that pain had suddenly ceased.
“Hey.” I smiled a little at my anticlimactic greeting.
He raised our interlaced fingers to brush my cheek with the back of his hand. “How was your
afternoon?”
“Slow.”
“For me, as well.”
He pulled my wrist up to his face, our hands still twisted together. His eyes closed as his nose skimmed
along the skin there, and he smiled gently without opening them. Enjoying the bouquet while resisting the
wine, as he’d once put it.
I knew that the scent of my blood — so much sweeter to him than any other person’s blood, truly like
wine beside water to an alcoholic — caused him actual pain from the burning thirst it engendered. But he
didn’t seem to shy away from it as much as he once had. I could only dimly imagine the Herculean effort
behind this simple gesture.
It made me sad that he had to try so hard. I comforted myself with the knowledge that I wouldn’t be
causing him pain much longer.
I heard Charlie approaching then, stamping his feet on the way to express his customary displeasure with
our guest. Edward’s eyes snapped open and he let our hands fall, keeping them twined.
“Good evening, Charlie.” Edward was always flawlessly polite, though Charlie didn’t deserve it.
Charlie grunted at him, and then stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. He was taking the idea
of parental supervision to extremes lately.
“I brought another set of applications,” Edward told me then, holding up a stuffed manila envelope. He
was wearing a roll of stamps like a ring around his littlest finger.
I groaned. How were there any colleges left that he hadn’t forced me to apply to already? And how did
he keep finding these loophole openings? It was so late in the year.
He smiled as if hecould read my thoughts; they must have been very obvious on my face. “There are still
a few open deadlines. And a few places willing to make exceptions.”
I could just imagine the motivations behind such exceptions. And the dollar amounts involved.
Edward laughed at my expression.
“Shall we?” he asked, towing me toward the kitchen table.
Charlie huffed and followed behind, though he could hardly complain about the activity on tonight’s
agenda. He’d been pestering me to make a decision about college on a daily basis.
I cleared the table quickly while Edward organized an intimidating stack of forms. When I moved
Wuthering Heights to the counter, Edward raised one eyebrow. I knew what he was thinking, but
Charlie interrupted before Edward could comment.
“Speaking of college applications, Edward,” Charlie said, his tone even more sullen — he tried to avoid
addressing Edward directly, and when he had to, it exacerbated his bad mood. “Bella and I were just
talking about next year. Have you decided where you’re going to school?”
Edward smiled up at Charlie and his voice was friendly. “Not yet. I’ve received a few acceptance
letters, but I’m still weighing my options.”
“Where have you been accepted?” Charlie pressed.
“Syracuse . . . Harvard . . . Dartmouth . . . and I just got accepted to the University of Alaska Southeast
today.” Edward turned his face slightly to the side so that he could wink at me. I stifled a giggle.
“Harvard? Dartmouth?” Charlie mumbled, unable to conceal his awe. “Well that’s pretty . . . that’s
something. Yeah, but the University of Alaska . . . you wouldn’t really consider that when you could go
Ivy League. I mean, your father would want you to . . .”
“Carlisle’s always fine with whatever I choose to do,” Edward told him serenely.
“Hmph.”
“Guess what, Edward?” I asked in a bright voice, playing along.
“What, Bella?”
I pointed to the thick envelope on the counter. “I just gotmy acceptance to the University of Alaska!”
“Congratulations!” He grinned. “What a coincidence.”
Charlie’s eyes narrowed and he glared back and forth between the two of us. “Fine,” he muttered after
a minute. “I’m going to go watch the game, Bella. Nine-thirty.”
That was his usual parting command.
“Er, Dad? Remember the very recent discussion about my freedom . . . ?”
He sighed. “Right. Okay,ten -thirty. You still have a curfew on school nights.”
“Bella’s no longer grounded?” Edward asked. Though I knew he wasn’t really surprised, I couldn’t
detect any false note to the sudden excitement in his voice.
“Conditionally,” Charlie corrected through his teeth. “What’s it to you?”
I frowned at my dad, but he didn’t see.
“It’s just good to know,” Edward said. “Alice has been itching for a shopping partner, and I’m sure
Bella would love to see some city lights.” He smiled at me.
But Charlie growled, “No!” and his face flushed purple.
“Dad! What’s the problem?”
He made an effort to unclench his teeth. “I don’t want you going to Seattle right now.”
“Huh?”
“I told you about that story in the paper — there’s some kind of gang on a killing spree in Seattle and I
want you to steer clear, okay?”
I rolled my eyes. “Dad, there’s a better chance that I’ll get struck by lightning than that the one day I’m
in Seattle —”
“No, that’s fine, Charlie,” Edward said, interrupting me. “I didn’t mean Seattle. I was thinking Portland,
actually. I wouldn’t have Bella in Seattle, either. Of course not.”
I looked at him in disbelief, but he had Charlie’s newspaper in his hands and he was reading the front
page intently.
He must have been trying to appease my father. The idea of being in danger from even the most deadly
of humans while I was with Alice or Edward was downright hilarious.
It worked. Charlie stared at Edward for one second more, and then shrugged. “Fine.” He stalked off
toward the living room, in a bit of a hurry now — maybe he didn’t want to miss tip-off.
I waited till the TV was on, so that Charlie wouldn’t be able to hear me.
“What —,” I started to ask.
“Hold on,” Edward said without looking up from the paper. His eyes stayed focused on the page as he
pushed the first application toward me across the table. “I think you can recycle your essays for this one.
Same questions.”
Charlie must still be listening. I sighed and started to fill out the repetitive information: name, address,
social. . . . After a few minutes I glanced up, but Edward was now staring pensively out the window. As I
bent my head back to my work, I noticed for the first time the name of the school.
I snorted and shoved the papers aside.
“Bella?”
“Be serious, Edward.Dartmouth ?”
Edward lifted the discarded application and laid it gently in front of me again. “I think you’d like New
Hampshire,” he said. “There’s a full complement of night courses for me, and the forests are very
conveniently located for the avid hiker. Plentiful wildlife.” He pulled out the crooked smile he knew I
couldn’t resist.
I took a deep breath through my nose.
“I’ll let you pay me back, if that makes you happy,” he promised. “If you want, I can charge you
interest.”
“Like I could even get in without some enormous bribe. Or was that part of the loan? The new Cullen
wing of the library? Ugh. Why are we having this discussion again?”
“Will you just fill out the application, please, Bella? It won’t hurt you to apply.”
My jaw flexed. “You know what? I don’t think I will.”
I reached for the papers, planning to crumple them into a suitable shape for lobbing at the trashcan, but
they were already gone. I stared at the empty table for a moment, and then at Edward. He didn’t appear
to have moved, but the application was probably already tucked away in his jacket.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
“I sign your name better than you do yourself. You’ve already written the essays.”
“You’re going way overboard with this, you know.” I whispered on the off chance that Charlie wasn’t
completely lost in his game. “I really don’t need to apply anywhere else. I’ve been accepted in Alaska. I
can almost afford the first semester’s tuition. It’s as good an alibi as any. There’s no need to throw away
a bunch of money, no matter whose it is.”
A pained looked tightened his face. “Bella —”
“Don’t start. I agree that I need to go through the motions for Charlie’s sake, but we both know I’m not
going to be in any condition to go to school next fall. To be anywhere near people.”
My knowledge of those first few years as a new vampire was sketchy. Edward had never gone into
details — it wasn’t his favorite subject — but I knew it wasn’t pretty. Self-control was apparently an
acquired skill. Anything more than correspondence school was out of the question.
“I thought the timing was still undecided,” Edward reminded me softly. “You might enjoy a semester or
two of college. There are a lot of human experiences you’ve never had.”
“I’ll get to those afterward.”
“They won’t behuman experiences afterward. You don’t get a second chance at humanity, Bella.”
I sighed. “You’ve got to be reasonable about the timing, Edward. It’s just too dangerous to mess around
with.”
“There’s no danger yet,” heI glared at him. No danger? Sure. I only had a sadistic vampire trying to avenge her mate’s death with
my own, preferably through some slow and torturous method. Who was worried about Victoria? And,
oh yeah, the Volturi — the vampire royal family with their small army of vampire warriors — who
insisted that my heart stop beating one way or another in the near future, because humans weren’t
allowed to know they existed. Right. No reason at all to panic.
Even with Alice keeping watch — Edward was relying on her uncannily accurate visions of the future to
give us advance warning — it was insane to take chances.
Besides, I’d already won this argument. The date for my transformation was tentatively set for shortly
after my graduation from high school, only a handful of weeks away.
A sharp jolt of unease pierced my stomach as I realized how short the time really was. Of course this
change was necessary — and the key to what I wanted more than everything else in the world put
together — but I was deeply conscious of Charlie sitting in the other room enjoying his game, just like
every other night. And my mother, Renée, far away in sunny Florida, still pleading with me to spend the
summer on the beach with her and her new husband. And Jacob, who, unlike my parents, would know
exactly what was going on when I disappeared to some distant school. Even if my parents didn’t grow
suspicious for a long time, even if I could put off visits with excuses about travel expenses or study loads
or illnesses, Jacob would know the truth.
For a moment, the idea of Jacob’s certain revulsion overshadowed every other pain.
“Bella,” Edward murmured, his face twisting when he read the distress in mine. “There’s no hurry. I
won’t let anyone hurt you. You can take all the time you need.”
“I want to hurry,” I whispered, smiling weakly, trying to make a joke of it. “I want to be a monster, too.”
His teeth clenched; he spoke through them. “You have no idea what you’re saying.” Abruptly, he flung
the damp newspaper onto the table in between us. His finger stabbed the headline on the front page:
DEATH TOLL ON THE RISE, POLICE FEAR GANG ACTIVITY
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Monsters are not a joke, Bella.”
I stared at the headline again, and then up to his hard expression. “A . . . avampire is doing this?” I
whispered.
He smiled without humor. His voice was low and cold. “You’d be surprised, Bella, at how often my
kind are the source behind the horrors in your human news. It’s easy to recognize, when you know what
to look for. The information here indicates a newborn vampire is loose in Seattle. Bloodthirsty, wild, out
of control. The way we all were.”
I let my gaze drop to the paper again, avoiding his eyes.
“We’ve been monitoring the situation for a few weeks. All the signs are there — the unlikely
disappearances, always in the night, the poorly disposed-of corpses, the lack of other evidence. . . . Yes,
someone brand-new. And no one seems to be taking responsibility for the neophyte. . . .” He took a
deep breath. “Well, it’s not our problem. We wouldn’t even pay attention to the situation if wasn’t going insisted.
on so close to home. Like I said, this happens all the time. The existence of monsters results in monstrous
consequences.”
I tried not to see the names on the page, but they jumped out from the rest of the print like they were in
bold. The five people whose lives were over, whose families were mourning now. It was different from
considering murder in the abstract, reading those names. Maureen Gardiner, Geoffrey Campbell, Grace
Razi, Michelle O’Connell, Ronald Albrook. People who’d had parents and children and friends and pets
and jobs and hopes and plans and memories and futures. . . .
“It won’t be the same for me,” I whispered, half to myself. “You won’t let me be like that. We’ll live in
Antarctica.”
Edward snorted, breaking the tension. “Penguins. Lovely.”
I laughed a shaky laugh and knocked the paper off the table so I wouldn’t have to see those names; it hit
the linoleum with a thud. Of course Edward would consider the hunting possibilities. He and his
“vegetarian” family — all committed to protecting human life — preferred the flavor of large predators
for satisfying their dietary needs. “Alaska, then, as planned. Only somewhere much more remote than
Juneau — somewhere with grizzlies galore.”
“Better,” he allowed. “There are polar bears, too. Very fierce. And the wolves get quite large.”
My mouth fell open and my breath blew out in a sharp gust.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. Before I could recover, the confusion vanished and his whole body seemed
to harden. “Oh. Never mind the wolves, then, if the idea is offensive to you.” His voice was stiff, formal,
his shoulders rigid.
“He was my best friend, Edward,” I muttered. It stung to use the past tense. “Of course the idea offends
me.”
“Please forgive my thoughtlessness,” he said, still very formal. “I shouldn’t have suggested that.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I stared at my hands, clenched into a double fist on the table.
We were both silent for a moment, and then his cool finger was under my chin, coaxing my face up. His
expression was much softer now.
“Sorry. Really.”
“I know. I know it’s not the same thing. I shouldn’t have reacted that way. It’s just that . . . well, I was
already thinking about Jacob before you came over.” I hesitated. His tawny eyes seemed to get a little bit
darker whenever I said Jacob’s name. My voice turned pleading in response. “Charlie says Jake is
having a hard time. He’s hurting right now, and . . . it’s my fault.”
“You’ve done nothing wrong, Bella.”
I took a deep breath. “I need to make it better, Edward. I owe him that. And it’s one of Charlie’s
conditions, anyway —”
His face changed while I spoke, turning hard again, statue-like.
“You know it’s out of the question for you to be around a werewolf unprotected, Bella. And it would
break the treaty if any of us cross over onto their land. Do you want us to start a war?”
“Of course not!”
“Then there’s really no point in discussing the matter further.” He dropped his hand and looked away,
searching for a subject change. His eyes paused on something behind me, and he smiled, though his eyes
stayed wary.
“I’m glad Charlie has decided to let you out — you’re sadly in need of a visit to the bookstore. I can’t
believe you’re readingWuthering Heights again. Don’t you know it by heart yet?”
“Not all of us have photographic memories,” I said curtly.
“Photographic memory or not, I don’t understand why you like it. The characters are ghastly people
who ruin each others’ lives. I don’t know how Heathcliff and Cathy ended up being ranked with couples
like Romeo and Juliet or Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. It isn’t a love story, it’s a hate story.”
“You have some serious issues with the classics,” I snapped.
“Perhaps it’s because I’m not impressed by antiquity.” He smiled, evidently satisfied that he’d distracted
me. “Honestly, though, whydo you read it over and over?” His eyes were vivid with real interest now,
trying — again — to unravel the convoluted workings of my mind. He reached across the table to cradle
my face in his hand. “What is it that appeals to you?”
His sincere curiosity disarmed me. “I’m not sure,” I said, scrambling for coherency while his gaze
unintentionally scattered my thoughts. “I think it’s something about the inevitability. How nothing can keep
them apart — not her selfishness, or his evil, or even death, in the end. . . .”
His face was thoughtful as he considered my words. After a moment he smiled a teasing smile. “I still
think it would be a better story if either of them had one redeeming quality.”
“I think that may be the point,” I disagreed. “Their loveis their only redeeming quality.”
“I hope you have better sense than that — to fall in love with someone so . . . malignant.”
“It’s a bit late for me to worry about who I fall in love with,” I pointed out. “But even without the
warning, I seem to have managed fairly well.”
He laughed quietly. “I’m gladyou think so.”
“Well, I hope you’re smart enough to stay away from someone so selfish. Catherine is really the source
of all the trouble, not Heathcliff.”
“I’ll be on my guard,” he promised.
I sighed. He was so good at distractions.
I put my hand over his to hold it to my face. “I need to see Jacob.”
His eyes closed. “No.”
“It’s truly not dangerous at all,” I said, pleading again. “I used to spend all day in La Push with the whole
lot of them, and nothing ever happened.”
But I made a slip; my voice faltered at the end because I realized as I was saying the words that they
were a lie. It was not true thatnothing had ever happened. A brief flash of memory — an enormous gray
wolf crouched to spring, baring his dagger-like teeth at me — had my palms sweating with an echo of
remembered panic.
Edward heard my heart accelerate and nodded as if I’d acknowledged the lie aloud. “Werewolves are
unstable. Sometimes, the people near them get hurt. Sometimes, they get killed.”
I wanted to deny it, but another image slowed my rebuttal. I saw in my head the once beautiful face of
Emily Young, now marred by a trio of dark scars that dragged down the corner of her right eye and left
her mouth warped forever into a lopsided scowl.
He waited, grimly triumphant, for me to find my voice.
“You don’t know them,” I whispered.
“I know them better than you think, Bella. I was here the last time.”
“The last time?”
“We started crossing paths with the wolves about seventy years ago. . . . We had just settled near
Hoquiam. That was before Alice and Jasper were with us. We outnumbered them, but that wouldn’t
have stopped it from turning into a fight if not for Carlisle. He managed to convince Ephraim Black that
coexisting was possible, and eventually we made the truce.”
Jacob’s great-grandfather’s name startled me.
“We thought the line had died out with Ephraim,” Edward muttered; it sounded like he was talking to
himself now. “That the genetic quirk which allowed the transmutation had been lost. . . .” He broke off
and stared at me accusingly. “Your bad luck seems to get more potent every day. Do you realize that
your insatiable pull for all things deadly was strong enough to recover a pack of mutant canines from
extinction? If we could bottle your luck, we’d have a weapon of mass destruction on our hands.”
I ignored the ribbing, my attention caught by his assumption — was he serious? “ButI didn’t bring them
back. Don’t you know?”
“Know what?”
“My bad luck had nothing to do with it. The werewolves came back because the vampires did.”
Edward stared at me, his body motionless with surprise.
“Jacob told me that your family being here set things in motion. I thought you would already know. . . .”
His eyes narrowed. “Is that what they think?”
“Edward, look at the facts. Seventy years ago, you came here, and the werewolves showed up. You
come back now, and the werewolves show up again. Do you think that’s a coincidence?”
He blinked and his glare relaxed. “Carlisle will be interested in that theory.”
“Theory,” I scoffed.
He was silent for a moment, staring out the window into the rain; I imagined he was contemplating the
fact that his family’s presence was turning the locals into giant dogs.
“Interesting, but not exactly relevant,” he murmured after a moment. “The situation remains the same.”
I could translate that easily enough: no werewolf friends.
I knew I must be patient with Edward. It wasn’t that he was unreasonable, it was just that he didn’t
understand. He had no idea how very much I owed Jacob Black — my life many times over, and
possibly my sanity, too.
I didn’t like to talk about that barren time with anyone, and especially not Edward. He had only been
trying to save me when he’d left, trying to save my soul. I didn’t hold him responsible for all the stupid
things I’d done in his absence, or the pain I had suffered.
He did.
So I would have to word my explanation very carefully.
I got up and walked around the table. He opened his arms for me and I sat on his lap, nestling into his
cool stone embrace. I looked at his hands while I spoke.
“Please just listen for a minute. This is so much more important than some whim to drop in on an old
friend. Jacob is inpain .” My voice distorted around the word. “I can’tnot try to help him — I can’t give
up on him now, when he needs me. Just because he’s not human all the time. . . . Well, he was there for
me when I was . . . not so human myself. You don’t know what it was like. . . .” I hesitated. Edward’s
arms were rigid around me; his hands were in fists now, the tendons standing out. “If Jacob hadn’t helped
me . . . I’m not sure what you would have come home to. I owe him better than this, Edward.”
I looked up at his face warily. His eyes were closed, and his jaw was strained.
“I’ll never forgive myself for leaving you,” he whispered. “Not if I live a hundred thousand years.”
I put my hand against his cold face and waited until he sighed and opened his eyes.
“You were just trying to do the right thing. And I’m sure it would have worked with anyone less mental
than me. Besides, you’re here now. That’s the part that matters.”
“If I’d never left, you wouldn’t feel the need to go risk your life to comfort adog .”
I flinched. I was used to Jacob and all his derogatory slurs —bloodsucker, leech, parasite . . . .
Somehow it sounded harsher in Edward’s velvet voice.
“I don’t know how to phrase this properly,” Edward said, and his tone was bleak. “It’s going to sound
cruel, I suppose. But I’ve come too close to losing you in the past. I know what it feels like to think I
have. I amnot going to tolerate anything dangerous.”
“You have to trust me on this. I’ll be fine.”
His face was pained again. “Please, Bella,” he whispered.
I stared into his suddenly burning golden eyes. “Please what?”
“Please, for me. Please make a conscious effort to keep yourself safe. I’ll do everything I can, but I
would appreciate a little help.”
“I’ll work on it,” I murmured.
“Do you really have any idea how important you are to me? Any concept at all of how much I love
you?” He pulled me tighter against his hard chest, tucking my head under his chin.
I pressed my lips against his snow-cold neck. “I know how muchI loveyou ,” I answered.
“You compare one small tree to the entire forest.”
I rolled my eyes, but he couldn’t see. “Impossible.”
He kissed the top of my head and sighed.
“No werewolves.”
“I’m not going along with that. I have to see Jacob.”
“Then I’ll have to stop you.”
He sounded utterly confident that this wouldn’t be a problem.
I was sure he was right.
“We’ll see about that,” I bluffed anyway. “He’s still my friend.”
I could feel Jacob’s note in my pocket, like it suddenly weighed ten pounds. I could hear the words in
his voice, and he seemed to be agreeing with Edward — something that would never happen in reality.
Doesn’t change anything. Sorry.
2. EVASION
IFELT ODDLY BUOYANT AS I WALKED FROM SPANISHtoward the cafeteria, and it wasn’t
just because I was holding hands with the most perfect person on the planet, though that was certainly
part of it.
Maybe it was the knowledge that my sentence was served and I was a free woman again.
Or maybe it wasn’t anything to do with me specifically. Maybe it was the atmosphere of freedom that
hung over the entire campus. School was winding down, and, for the senior class especially, there was a
perceptible thrill in the air.
Freedom was so close it was touchable, taste-able. Signs of it were everywhere. Posters crowded
together on the cafeteria walls, and the trashcans wore a colorful skirt of spilled-over fliers: reminders to
buy yearbooks, class rings, and announcements; deadlines to order graduation gowns, hats, and tassels;
neon-bright sales pitches — the juniors campaigning for class office; ominous, rose-wreathed
advertisements for this year’s prom. The big dance was this coming weekend, but I had an ironclad
promise from Edward that I would not be subjected to that again. After all, I’d already hadthat human
experience.
No, it must be my personal freedom that lightened me today. The ending of the school year did not give
me the pleasure it seemed to give the other students. Actually, I felt nervous to the point of nausea
whenever I thought of it. I tried tonot think of it.
But it was hard to escape such an omnipresent topic as graduation.
“Have you sent your announcements, yet?” Angela asked when Edward and I sat down at our table.
She had her light brown hair pulled back into a sloppy ponytail instead of her usual smooth hairdo, and
there was a slightly frantic look about her eyes.
Alice and Ben were already there, too, on either side of Angela. Ben was intent over a comic book, his
glasses sliding down his narrow nose. Alice was scrutinizing my boring jeans-and-a-t-shirt outfit in a way
that made me self-conscious. Probably plotting another makeover. I sighed. My indifferent attitude to
fashion was a constant thorn in her side. If I’d allow it, she’d love to dress me every day — perhaps
several times a day — like some oversized three-dimensional paper doll.
“No,” I answered Angela. “There’s no point, really. Renée knows when I’m graduating. Who else is
there?”
“How about you, Alice?”
Alice smiled. “All done.”
“Lucky you.” Angela sighed. “My mother has a thousand cousins and she expects me to hand-address
one to everybody. I’m going to get carpal tunnel. I can’t put it off any longer and I’m just dreading it.”
“I’ll help you,” I volunteered. “If you don’t mind my awful handwriting.”
Charlie would like that. From the corner of my eye, I saw Edward smile. He must like that, too — me
fulfilling Charlie’s conditions without involving werewolves.
Angela looked relieved. “That’s so nice of you. I’ll come over any time you want.”
“Actually, I’d rather go to your house if that’s okay — I’m sick of mine. Charlie un-grounded me last
night.” I grinned as I announced my good news.
“Really?” Angela asked, mild excitement lighting her always-gentle brown eyes. “I thought you said you
were in for life.”
“I’m more surprised than you are. I was sure I would at least have finished high school before he set me
free.”
“Well, this is great, Bella! We’ll have to go out to celebrate.”
“You have no idea how good that sounds.”
“What should we do?” Alice mused, her face lighting up at the possibilities. Alice’s ideas were usually a
little grandiose for me, and I could see it in her eyes now — the tendency to take things too far kicking
into action.
“Whatever you’re thinking, Alice, I doubt I’mthat free.”
“Free is free, right?” she insisted.
“I’m sure I still have boundaries — like the continental U.S., for example.”
Angela and Ben laughed, but Alice grimaced in real disappointment.
“So what are we doing tonight?” she persisted.
“Nothing. Look, let’s give it a couple of days to make sure he wasn’t joking. It’s a school night,
anyway.”
“We’ll celebrate this weekend, then.” Alice’s enthusiasm was impossible to repress.
“Sure,” I said, hoping to placate her. I knew I wasn’t going to do anything too outlandish; it would be
safer to take it slow with Charlie. Give him a chance to appreciate how trustworthy and mature I was
before I asked for any favors.
Angela and Alice started talking about options; Ben joined the conversation, setting his comics aside.
My attention drifted. I was surprised to find that the subject of my freedom was suddenly not as gratifying
as it had been just a moment ago. While they discussed things to do in Port Angeles or maybe Hoquiam,
I began to feel disgruntled.
It didn’t take long to determine where my restlessness stemmed from.
Ever since I’d said goodbye to Jacob Black in the forest outside my home, I’d been plagued by a
persistent, uncomfortable intrusion of a specific mental picture. It popped into my thoughts at regular
intervals like some annoying alarm clock set to sound every half hour, filling my head with the image of
Jacob’s face crumpled in pain. This was the last memory I had of him.
As the disturbing vision struck again, I knew exactly why I was dissatisfied with my liberty. Because it
was incomplete.
Sure, I was free to go to anywhere I wanted — except La Push; free to do anything I wanted — except
see Jacob. I frowned at the table. Therehad to be some kind of middle ground.
“Alice? Alice!”
Angela’s voice yanked me from my reverie. She was waving her hand back and forth in front of Alice’s
blank, staring face. Alice’s expression was something I recognized — an expression that sent an
automatic shock of panic through my body. The vacant look in her eyes told me that she was seeing
something very different from the mundane lunchroom scene that surrounded us, but something that was
every bit as real in its own way. Something that was coming, something that would happen soon. I felt the
blood slither from my face.
Then Edward laughed, a very natural, relaxed sound. Angela and Ben looked toward him, but my eyes
were locked on Alice. She jumped suddenly, as if someone had kicked her under the table.
“Is it naptime already, Alice?” Edward teased.
Alice was herself again. “Sorry, I was daydreaming, I guess.”
“Daydreaming’s better than facing two more hours of school,” Ben said.
Alice threw herself back into the conversation with more animation than before — just a little bit too
much. Once I saw her eyes lock with Edward’s, only for a moment, and then she looked back to Angela
before anyone else noticed. Edward was quiet, playing absentmindedly with a strand of my hair.
I waited anxiously for a chance to ask Edward what Alice had seen in her vision, but the afternoon
passed without one minute of alone time.
It felt odd to me, almost deliberate. After lunch, Edward slowed his pace to match Ben’s, talking about
some assignment I knew he’d already finished. Then there was always someone else there between
classes, though we usually had a few minutes to ourselves. When the final bell rang, Edward struck up a
conversation with Mike Newton of all people, falling into step beside him as Mike headed for the parking
lot. I trailed behind, letting Edward tow me along.
I listened, confused, while Mike answered Edward’s unusually friendly queries. It seemed Mike was
having car troubles.
“. . . but I just replaced the battery,” Mike was saying. His eyes darted ahead and then back to Edward
warily. Mystified, just like I was.
“Perhaps it’s the cables?” Edward offered.
“Maybe. I really don’t know anything about cars,” Mike admitted. “I need to have someone look at it,
but I can’t afford to take it to Dowling’s.”
I opened my mouth to suggest my mechanic, and then snapped it shut again. My mechanic was busy
these days — busy running around as a giant wolf.
“I know a few things — I could take a look, if you like,” Edward offered. “Just let me drop Alice and
Bella at home.”
Mike and I both stared at Edward with our mouths hanging open.
“Er . . . thanks,” Mike mumbled when he recovered. “But I have to get to work. Maybe some other
time.”“Absolutely.”
“See ya.” Mike climbed into his car, shaking his head in disbelief.
Edward’s Volvo, with Alice already inside, was just two cars away.
“What wasthat about?” I muttered as Edward held the passenger door for me.
“Just being helpful,” Edward answered.
And then Alice, waiting in the backseat, was babbling at top speed.
“You’re really notthat good a mechanic, Edward. Maybe you should have Rosalie take a look at it
tonight, just so you look good if Mike decides to let you help, you know. Not that it wouldn’t be fun to
watch his face ifRosalie showed up to help. But since Rosalie is supposed to be across the country
attending college, I guess that’s not the best idea. Too bad. Though I suppose, for Mike’s car, you’ll do.
It’s only within the finer tunings of a good Italian sports car that you’re out of your depth. And speaking
of Italy and sports cars that I stole there, you still owe me a yellow Porsche. I don’t know that I want to
wait for Christmas. . . .”
I stopped listening after a minute, letting her quick voice become just a hum in the background as I
settled into my patient mode.
It looked to me like Edward was trying to avoid my questions. Fine. He would have to be alone with me
soon enough. It was only a matter of time.
Edward seemed to realize that, too. He dropped Alice at the mouth of the Cullens’ drive as usual,
though by this point I half expected him to drive her to the door and walk her in.
As she got out, Alice threw a sharp look at his face. Edward seemed completely at ease.
“See you later,” he said. And then, ever so slightly, he nodded.
Alice turned to disappear into the trees.
He was quiet as he turned the car around and headed back to Forks. I waited, wondering if he would
bring it up himself. He didn’t, and this made me tense. Whathad Alice seen today at lunch? Something he
didn’t want to tell me, and I tried to think of a reason why he would keep secrets. Maybe it would be
better to prepare myself before I asked. I didn’t want to freak out and have him think I couldn’t handle it,
whatever it was.
So we were both silent until we got to back to Charlie’s house.
“Light homework load tonight,” he commented.
“Mmm,” I assented.
“Do you suppose I’m allowed inside again?”
“Charlie didn’t throw a fit when you picked me up for school.”
But I was sure Charlie was going to turn sulky fast when he got home and found Edward here. Maybe I
should make something extra-special for dinner.
Inside, I headed up the stairs, and Edward followed. He lounged on my bed and gazed out the window,
seeming oblivious to my edginess.
I stowed my bag and turned the computer on. There was an unanswered e-mail from my mom to attend
to, and she got panicky when I took too long. I drummed my fingers as I waited for my decrepit
computer to wheeze awake; they snapped against the desk, staccato and anxious.
And then his fingers were on mine, holding them still.
“Are we a little impatient today?” he murmured.
I looked up, intending to make a sarcastic remark, but his face was closer than I’d expected. His golden
eyes were smoldering, just inches away, and his breath was cool against my open lips. I could taste his
scent on my tongue.
I couldn’t remember the witty response I’d been about to make. I couldn’t remember my name.
He didn’t give me a chance to recover.
If I had my way, I would spend the majority of my time kissing Edward. There wasn’t anything I’d
experienced in my life that compared to the feeling of his cool lips, marble hard but always so gentle,
moving with mine.
I didn’t often get my way.
So it surprised me a little when his fingers braided themselves into my hair, securing my face to his. My
arms locked behind his neck, and I wished I was stronger — strong enough to keep him prisoner here.
One hand slid down my back, pressing me tighter against his stone chest. Even through his sweater, his
skin was cold enough to make me shiver — it was a shiver of pleasure, of happiness, but his hands began
to loosen in response.
I knew I had about three seconds before he would sigh and slide me deftly away, saying something
about how we’d risked my life enough for one afternoon. Making the most of my last seconds, I crushed
myself closer, molding myself to the shape of him. The tip of my tongue traced the curve of his lower lip;
it was as flawlessly smooth as if it had been polished, and thetaste —
He pulled my face away from his, breaking my hold with ease — he probably didn’t even realize that I
was using all my strength.
He chuckled once, a low, throaty sound. His eyes were bright with the excitement he so rigidly
disciplined.
“Ah, Bella.” He sighed.
“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.”
“And I should feel sorry that you’re not sorry, but I don’t. Maybe I should go sit on the bed.”
I exhaled a little dizzily. “If you think that’s necessary. . . .”
He smiled crookedly and disentangled himself.
I shook my head a few times, trying to clear it, and turned back to my computer. It was all warmed up
and humming now. Well, not as much humming as groaning.
“Tell Renée I said hello.”
“Sure thing.”
I scanned through Renée’s e-mail, shaking my head now and then at some of the dippier things she’d
done. I was just as entertained and horrified as the first time I’d read this. It was so like my mother to
forget exactly how paralyzed she was by heights until she was already strapped to a parachute and a dive
instructor. I felt a little frustrated with Phil, her husband of almost two years, for allowing that one. I
would have taken better care of her. I knew her so much better.
You have to let them go their own way eventually, I reminded myself. You have to let them have their
own life. . . .
I’d spent most of my life taking care of Renée, patiently guiding her away from her craziest plans,
good-naturedly enduring the ones I couldn’t talk her out of. I’d always been indulgent with my mom,
amused by her, even a little condescending to her. I saw her cornucopia of mistakes and laughed
privately to myself. Scatterbrained Renée.
I was a very different person from my mother. Someone thoughtful and cautious. The responsible one,
the grown-up. That’s how I saw myself. That was the person I knew.
With the blood still pounding in my head from Edward’s kiss, I couldn’t help but think of my mother’s
most life-altering mistake. Silly and romantic, getting married fresh out of high school to a man she barely
knew, then producing me a year later. She’d always promised me that she had no regrets, that I was the
best gift her life had ever given her. And yet she’d drilled it into me over and over — smart people took
marriage seriously. Mature people went to college and started careers before they got deeply involved in
a relationship. She knew I would never be as thoughtless and goofy andsmall-town as she’d been. . . .
I gritted my teeth and tried to concentrate as I answered her letter.
Then I hit her parting line and remembered why I’d neglected to write sooner.
You haven’t said anything about Jacob in a long time, she’d written.What’s he up to these days?
Charlie was prompting her, I was sure.
I sighed and typed quickly, tucking the answer to her question between two less sensitive paragraphs.
Jacob is fine, I guess. I don’t see him much; he spends most of his time with a pack of his friends down
at La Push these days.
Smiling wryly to myself, I added Edward’s greeting and hit “send.”
I didn’t realize that Edward was standing silently behind me again until after I’d turned off the computer
and shoved away from the desk. I was about to scold him for reading over my shoulder when I realized
that he wasn’t paying any attention to me. He was examining a flat black box with wires curling
crookedly away from the main square in a way that didn’t look healthy for whatever it was. After a
second, I recognized the car stereo Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper had given me for my last birthday. I’d
forgotten about the birthday presents hiding under a growing pile of dust on the floor of my closet.
“What did youdo to this?” he asked in a horrorstruck voice.
“It didn’t want to come out of the dashboard.”
“So you felt the need to torture it?”
“You know how I am with tools. No pain was inflicted intentionally.”
He shook his head, his face a mask of faux tragedy. “You killed it.”
I shrugged. “Oh, well.”
“It would hurt their feelings if they saw this,” he said. “I guess it’s a good thing that you’ve been on house
arrest. I’ll have to get another one in place before they notice.”
“Thanks, but I don’t need a fancy stereo.”
“It’s not for your sake that I’m going to replace it.”
I sighed.
“You didn’t get much good out of your birthday presents last year,” he said in a disgruntled voice.
Suddenly, he was fanning himself with a stiff rectangle of paper.
I didn’t answer, for fear my voice would shake. My disastrous eighteenth birthday — with all its
far-reaching consequences — wasn’t something I cared to remember, and I was surprised that he would
bring it up. He was even more sensitive about it than I was.
“Do you realize these are about to expire?” he asked, holding the paper out to me. It was another
present — the voucher for airplane tickets that Esme and Carlisle had given me so that I could visit
Renée in Florida.
I took a deep breath and answered in a flat voice. “No. I’d forgotten all about them, actually.”
His expression was carefully bright and positive; there was no trace of any deep emotion as he
continued. “Well, we still have a little time. You’ve been liberated . . . and we have no plans this
weekend, as you refuse to go to the prom with me.” He grinned. “Why not celebrate your freedom this
way?”
I gasped. “By going to Florida?”
“You did say something about the continental U.S. being allowable.”
I glared at him, suspicious, trying to understand where this had come from.
“Well?” he demanded. “Are we going to see Renée or not?”
“Charlie will never allow it.”
“Charlie can’t keep you from visiting your mother. She still has primary custody.”
“Nobody has custody of me. I’m an adult.”
He flashed a brilliant smile. “Exactly.”
I thought it over for a short minute before deciding that it wasn’t worth the fight. Charlie would be furious
— not that I was going to see Renée, but that Edward was going with me. Charlie wouldn’t speak to me
for months, and I’d probably end up grounded again. It was definitely smarter not to even bring it up.
Maybe in a few weeks, as a graduation favor or something.
But the idea of seeing my mothernow , not weeks from now, was hard to resist. It had been so long
since I’d seen Renée. And even longer since I’d seen her under pleasant circumstances. The last time I’d
been with her in Phoenix, I’d spent the whole time in a hospital bed. The last time she’d come here, I’d
been more or less catatonic. Not exactly the best memories to leave her with.
And maybe, if she saw how happy I was with Edward, she would tell Charlie to ease up.
Edward scrutinized my face while I deliberated.
I sighed. “Not this weekend.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to fight with Charlie. Not so soon after he’s forgiven me.”
His eyebrows pulled together. “I think this weekend is perfect,” he muttered.
I shook my head. “Another time.”
“You aren’t the only one who’s been trapped in this house, you know.” He frowned at me.
Suspicion returned. This kind of behavior was unlike him. He was always so impossibly selfless; I knew
it was making me spoiled.
“You can go anywhere you want,” I pointed out.
“The outside world holds no interest for me without you.”
I rolled my eyes at the hyperbole.
“I’m serious,” he said.
“Let’s take the outside world slowly, all right? For example, we could start with a movie in Port
Angeles. . . .”
He groaned. “Never mind. We’ll talk about it later.”
“There’s nothing left to talk about.”
He shrugged.
“Okay, then, new subject,” I said. I’d almost forgotten my worries about this afternoon — had that been
his intention? “What did Alice see today at lunch?”
My eyes were fixed on his face as I spoke, measuring his reaction.
His expression was composed; there was only the slightest hardening of his topaz eyes. “She’s been
seeing Jasper in a strange place, somewhere in the southwest, she thinks, near his former . . . family. But
he has no conscious intentions to go back.” He sighed. “It’s got her worried.”
“Oh.” That was nothing close to what I’d been expecting. But of course it made sense that Alice would
be watching out for Jasper’s future. He was her soul mate, her true other half, though they weren’t as
flamboyant about their relationship as Rosalie and Emmett were. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“I didn’t realize you’d noticed,” he said. “It’s probably nothing important, in any case.”
My imagination was sadly out of control. I’d taken a perfectly normal afternoon and twisted it until it
looked like Edward was going out of his way to keep things from me. I needed therapy.
We went downstairs to work on our homework, just in case Charlie showed up early. Edward finished
in minutes; I slogged laboriously through my calculus until I decided it was time to fix Charlie’s dinner.
Edward helped, making faces every so often at the raw ingredients — human food was mildly repulsive
to him. I made stroganoff from Grandma Swan’s recipe, because I was sucking up. It wasn’t one of my
favorites, but it would please Charlie.
Charlie seemed to already be in a good mood when he got home. He didn’t even go out of his way to
be rude to Edward. Edward excused himself from eating with us, as usual. The sound of the nightly news
drifted from the front room, but I doubted Edward was really watching.
After forcing down three helpings, Charlie kicked his feet up on the spare chair and folded his hands
*******edly across his distended stomach.
“That was great, Bells.”
“I’m glad you liked it. How was work?” He’d been eating with too much concentration for me to make
conversation before.
“Sort of slow. Well, dead slow really. Mark and I played cards for a good part of the afternoon,” he
admitted with a grin. “I won, nineteen hands to seven. And then I was on the phone with Billy for a
while.”
I tried to keep my expression the same. “How is he?”
“Good, good. His joints are bothering him a little.”
“Oh. That’s too bad.”
“Yeah. He invited us down to visit this weekend. He was thinking of having the Clearwaters and the
Uleys over too. Sort of a playoff party. . . .”
“Huh,” was my genius response. But what could I say? I knew I wouldn’t be allowed to hit a werewolf
party, even with parental supervision. I wondered if Edward would have a problem with Charlie hanging
out in La Push. Or would he suppose that, since Charlie was mostly spending time with Billy, who was
only human, my father wouldn’t be in danger?
I got up and piled the dishes together without looking at Charlie. I dumped them into the sink and started
the water. Edward appeared silently and grabbed a dishtowel.
Charlie sighed and gave up for the moment, though I imagined he would revisit the subject when we
were alone again. He heaved himself to his feet and headed for the TV, just like every other night.
“Charlie,” Edward said in a conversational tone.
Charlie stopped in the middle of his little kitchen. “Yeah?”
“Did Bella ever tell you that my parents gave her airplane tickets on her last birthday, so that she could
visit Renée?”
I dropped the plate I was scrubbing. It glanced off the counter and clattered noisily to the floor. It didn’t
break, but it spattered the room, and all three of us, with soapy water. Charlie didn’t even seem to
notice.
“Bella?” he asked in a stunned voice.
I kept my eyes on the plate as I retrieved it. “Yeah, they did.”
Charlie swallowed loudly, and then his eyes narrowed as he turned back to Edward. “No, she never
mentioned it.”
“Hmm,” Edward murmured.
“Was there a reason you brought it up?” Charlie asked in a hard voice.
Edward shrugged. “They’re about to expire. I think it might hurt Esme’s feelings if Bella doesn’t use her
gift. Not that she’d say anything.”
I stared at Edward in disbelief.
Charlie thought for a minute. “It’s probably a good idea for you to visit your mom, Bella. She’d love
that. I’m surprised you didn’t say anything about this, though.”
“I forgot,” I admitted.
He frowned. “You forgot that someone gave you plane tickets?”
“Mmm,” I murmured vaguely, and turned back to the sink.
“I noticed that you saidthey’re about to expire, Edward,” Charlie went on. “How many tickets did your
parents give her?”
“Just one for her . . . and one for me.”
The plate I dropped this time landed in the sink, so it didn’t make as much noise. I could easily hear the
sharp huff as my father exhaled. The blood rushed into my face, fueled by irritation and chagrin. Why was
Edward doing this? I glared at the bubbles in the sink, panicking.
“That’s out of the question!” Charlie was abruptly in a rage, shouting the words.
“Why?” Edward asked, his voice saturated with innocent surprise. “You just said it was a good idea for
her to see her mother.”
Charlie ignored him. “You’re not going anywhere with him, young lady!” he yelled. I spun around and he
was jabbing a finger at me.
Anger pulsed through me automatically, an instinctive reaction to his tone.
“I’m not a child, Dad. And I’m not grounded anymore, remember?”
“Oh yes, you are. Starting now.”
“For what?!”
“Because I said so.”
“Do I need to remind you that I’m a legal adult, Charlie?”
“This is my house — you follow my rules!”
My glare turned icy. “If that’s how you want it. Do you want me to move out tonight? Or can I have a
few days to pack?”
Charlie’s face went bright red. I instantly felt horrible for playing the move-out card.
I took a deep breath and tried to make my tone more reasonable. “I’ll do my time without complaining
when I’ve done something wrong, Dad, but I’m not going to put up with your prejudices.”
He sputtered, but managed nothing coherent.
“Now, I know thatyou know that I have every right to see Mom for the weekend. You can’t honestly
tell me you’d object to the plan if I was going with Alice or Angela.”
“Girls,” he grunted, with a nod.
“Would it bother you if I took Jacob?”
I’d only picked the name because I knew of my father’s preference for Jacob, but I quickly wished I
hadn’t; Edward’s teeth clenched together with an audible snap.
My father struggled to compose himself before he answered. “Yes,” he said in an unconvincing voice.
“That would bother me.”
“You’re a rotten liar, Dad.”
“Bella —”
“It’s not like I’m headed off to Vegas to be a showgirl or anything. I’m going to seeMom ,” I reminded
him. “She’s just as much my parental authority as you are.”
He threw me a withering look.
“Are you implying something about Mom’s ability to look after me?”
Charlie flinched at the threat implicit in my question.
“You’d better hope I don’t mention this to her,” I said.
“You’d better not,” he warned. “I’m not happy about this, Bella.”
“There’s no reason for you to be upset.”
He rolled his eyes, but I could tell the storm was over.
I turned to pull the plug out of the sink. “So my homework is done, your dinner is done, the dishes are
done, and I’m not grounded. I’m going out. I’ll be back before ten-thirty.”
“Where are you going?” His face, almost back to normal, flushed light red again.
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I’ll keep it within a ten-mile radius, though. Okay?”
He grunted something that did not sound like approval, and stalked out of the room. Naturally, as soon
as I’d won the fight, I began to feel guilty.
“We’re going out?” Edward asked, his voice low but enthusiastic.
I turned to glower at him. “Yes. I think I’d like to speak to youalone .”
He didn’t look as apprehensive as I thought he should.
I waited to begin until we were safely in his car.
“What wasthat ?” I demanded.
“I know you want to see your mother, Bella — you’ve been talking about her in your sleep. Worrying
actually.”
“I have?”
He nodded. “But, clearly, you were too much of a coward to deal with Charlie, so I interceded on your
behalf.”
“Interceded? You threw me to the sharks!”
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you were in any danger.”
“I told you I didn’t want to fight with Charlie.”
“Nobody said that you had to.”
I glowered at him. “I can’t help myself when he gets all bossy like that — my natural teenage instincts
overpower me.”
He chuckled. “Well, that’s not my fault.”
I stared at him, speculating. He didn’t seem to notice. His face was serene as he gazed out the
windshield. Something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Or maybe it was just my imagination
again, running wild like it had this afternoon.
“Does this sudden urge to see Florida have anything to do with the party at Billy’s place?”
His jaw flexed. “Nothing at all. It wouldn’t matter if you were here or on the other side of the world, you
still wouldn’t be going.”
It was just like with Charlie before — just like being treated as a misbehaving child. I gritted my teeth
together so I wouldn’t start shouting. I didn’t want to fight with Edward, too.
Edward sighed, and when he spoke his voice was warm and velvet again. “So what do you want to do
tonight?” he asked.
“Can we go to your house? I haven’t seen Esme in so long.”
He smiled. “She’ll like that. Especially when she hears what we’re doing this weekend.”
I groaned in defeat.
We didn’t stay out late, as I’d promised. I was not surprised to see the lights still on when we pulled up
in front of the house — I knew Charlie would be waiting to yell at me some more.
“You’d better not come inside,” I said. “It will only make things worse.”
“His thoughts are relatively calm,” Edward teased. His expression made me wonder if there was some
additional joke I was missing. The corners of his mouth twitched, fighting a smile.
“I’ll see you later,” I muttered glumly.
He laughed and kissed the top of my head. “I’ll be back when Charlie’s snoring.”
The TV was loud when I got inside. I briefly considered trying to sneak past him.
“Could you come in here, Bella?” Charlie called, sinking that plan.
My feet dragged as I took the five necessary steps.
“What’s up, Dad?”
“Did you have a nice time tonight?” he asked. He seemed ill at ease. I looked for hidden meanings in his
words before I answered.
“Yes,” I said hesitantly.
“What did you do?”
I shrugged. “Hung out with Alice and Jasper. Edward beat Alice at chess, and then I played Jasper. He
buried me.”
I smiled. Edward and Alice playing chess was one of the funniest things I’d ever seen. They’d sat there
nearly motionless, staring at the board, while Alice foresaw the moves he would make and he picked the
moves she would make in return out of her head. They played most of the game in their minds; I think
they’d each moved two pawns when Alice suddenly flicked her king over and surrendered. It took all of
three minutes.
Charlie hit the mute button — an unusual action.
“Look, there’s something I need to say.” He frowned, looking very uncomfortable.
I sat still, waiting. He met my gaze for a second before shifting his eyes to the floor. He didn’t say
anything more.
“What is it, Dad?”
He sighed. “I’m not good at this kind of thing. I don’t know how to start. . . .”
I waited again.
“Okay, Bella. Here’s the thing.” He got up from the couch and started pacing back and forth across the
room, looking as his feet all the time. “You and Edward seem pretty serious, and there are some things
that you need to be careful about. I know you’re an adult now, but you’re still young, Bella, and there are
a lot of important things you need to know when you . . . well, when you’re physically involved with —”
“Oh, please,please no!” I begged, jumping to my feet. “Please tell me you are not trying to have a sex
talk with me, Charlie.”
He glared at the floor. “I am your father. I have responsibilities. Remember, I’m just as embarrassed as
you are.”
“I don’t think that’s humanly possible. Anyway, Mom beat you to the punch about ten years ago.
You’re off the hook.”
“Ten years ago you didn’t have a boyfriend,” he muttered unwillingly. I could tell he was battling with his
desire to drop the subject. We were both standing up, looking at the floor, and facing away from each
other.
“I don’t think the essentials have changed that much,” I mumbled, and my face had to be as red as his.
This was beyond the seventh circle of Hades; even worse was realizing that Edward had known this was
coming. No wonder he’d seemed so smug in the car.
“Just tell me that you two are being responsible,” Charlie pled, obviously wishing a pit would open in the
floor so that he could fall in.
“Don’t worry about it, Dad, it’s not like that.”
“Not that I don’t trust you, Bella, but I know you don’t want to tell me anything about this, and you
know I don’t really want to hear it. I will try to be open-minded, though. I know the times have
changed.”
I laughed awkwardly. “Maybe the times have, but Edward is very old-fashioned. You have nothing to
worry about.”
Charlie sighed. “Sure he is,” he muttered.
“Ugh!” I groaned. “I really wish you were not forcing me to say this out loud, Dad.Really. But . . . I am
a . . . virgin, and I have no immediate plans to change that status.”
We both cringed, but then Charlie’s face smoothed out. He seemed to believe me.
“Can I go to bed, now?Please. ”
“In a minute,” he said.
“Aw, please, Dad? I’m begging you.”
“The embarrassing part’s over, I promise,” he assured me.
I shot a glance at him, and was grateful to see that he looked more relaxed, that his face was back to its
regular color. He sank down onto the sofa, sighing with relief that he was past the sex speech.
“What now?”
“I just wanted to know how the balance thing is coming along.”
“Oh. Good, I guess. I made plans with Angela today. I’m going to help her with her graduation
announcements. Just us girls.”
“That’s nice. And what about Jake?”
I sighed. “I haven’t figured that one out yet, Dad.”
“Keep trying, Bella. I know you’ll do the right thing. You’re a good person.”
Nice. So if I didn’t figure out some way to make things right with Jacob, then I was abad person? That
was below the belt.
“Sure, sure,” I agreed. The automatic response almost made me smile — it was something I’d picked up
from Jacob. I even said it in the same patronizing tone he used with his own father.
Charlie grinned and turned the sound back on. He slumped lower into the cushions, pleased with his
night’s work. I could tell he would be up with the game for a while.
“’Night, Bells.”
“See you in the morning!” I sprinted for the stairs.
Edward was long gone and he wouldn’t be back until Charlie was asleep — he was probably out
hunting or something to pass the time — so I was in no hurry to undress for bed. I wasn’t in the mood to
be alone, but I certainly wasn’t going to go back downstairs to hang out with my Dad, just in case he
thought of some topic of sex education that he hadn’t touched on before; I shuddered.
So, thanks to Charlie, I was wound up and anxious. My homework was done and I didn’t feel mellow
enough for reading or just listening to music. I considered calling Renée with the news of my visit, but
then I realized that it was three hours later in Florida, and she would be asleep.
I could call Angela, I supposed.
But suddenly I knew that it wasn’t Angela that I wanted to talk to. That I needed to talk to.
I stared at the blank black window, biting my lip. I don’t know how long I stood there weighing the pros
against the cons — doing the right thing by Jacob, seeing my closest friend again, being a good person,
versus making Edward furious with me. Ten minutes maybe. Long enough to decide that the pros were
valid while the cons were not. Edward was only concerned about my safety, and I knew that there was
really no problem on that count.
The phone wasn’t any help; Jacob had refused to answer my phone calls since Edward’s return.
Besides, I needed tosee him — see him smiling again the way he used to. I needed to replace that awful
last memory of his face warped and twisted by pain if I was ever going to have any peace of mind.
I had an hour probably. I could make a quick run down to La Push and be back before Edward realized
I had gone. It was past my curfew, but would Charlie really care about that when Edward wasn’t
involved? One way to find out.
I grabbed my jacket and shoved my arms through the sleeves as I ran down the stairs.
Charlie looked up from the game, instantly suspicious.
“You care if I go see Jake tonight?” I asked breathlessly. “I won’t stay long.”
As soon as I said Jake’s name, Charlie’s expression relaxed into a smug smile. He didn’t seem surprised
at all that his lecture had taken effect so quickly. “Sure, kid. No problem. Stay as long as you like.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I said as I darted out the door.
Like any fugitive, I couldn’t help looking over my shoulder a few times while I jogged to my truck, but
the night was so black that there really was no point. I had to feel my way along the side of the truck to
the handle.
My eyes were just beginning to adjust as I shoved my keys in the ignition. I twisted them hard to the left,
but instead of roaring deafeningly to life, the engine just clicked. I tried it again with the same results.
And then a small motion in my peripheral vision made me jump.
“Gah!” I gasped in shock when I saw that I was not alone in the cab.
Edward sat very still, a faint bright spot in the darkness, only his hands moving as he turned a mysterious
black object around and around. He stared at the object as he spoke.
“Alice called,” he murmured.
Alice! Damn. I’d forgotten to account for her in my plans. He must have her watching me.
“She got nervous when your future rather abruptly disappeared five minutes ago.”
My eyes, already wide with surprise, popped wider.
“Because she can’t see the wolves, you know,” he explained in the same low murmur. “Had you
forgotten that? When you decide to mingle your fate with theirs, you disappear, too. You couldn’t know
that part, I realize that. But can you understand why that might make me a little . . . anxious? Alice saw
you disappear, and she couldn’t even tell if you’d come home or not. Your future got lost, just like theirs.
“We’re not sure why this is. Some natural defense they’re born with?” He spoke as if he were talking to
himself now, still looking at the piece of my truck’s engine as he twirled it in his hands. “That doesn’t
seem entirely likely, since I haven’t had any trouble reading their thoughts. The Blacks’ at least. Carlisle
theorizes that it’s because their lives are so ruled by their transformations. It’s more an involuntary
reaction than a decision. Utterly unpredictable, and it changes everything about them. In that instant when
they shift from one form to the other, they don’t really even exist. The future can’t hold them. . . .”
I listened to his musing in stony silence.
“I’ll put your car back together in time for school, in case you’d like to drive yourself,” he assured me
after a minute.
With my lips mashed together, I retrieved my keys and stiffly climbed out of the truck.
“Shut your window if you want me to stay away tonight. I’ll understand,” he whispered just before I
slammed the door.
I stomped into the house, slamming that door, too.
“What’s wrong?” Charlie demanded from the couch.
“Truck won’t start,” I growled.
“Want me to look at it?”
“No. I’ll try it in the morning.”
“Want to use my car?”
I wasn’t supposed to drive his police cruiser. Charlie must be really desperate to get me to La Push.
Nearly as desperate as I was.
“No. I’m tired,” I grumbled. “’Night.”
I stamped my way up the stairs, and went straight to my window. I shoved the metal frame roughly — it
crashed shut and the glass trembled.
I stared at the shivering black glass for a long moment, until it was still. Then I sighed, and opened the
window as wide as it would go.
3. MOTIVES
THE SUN WAS SO DEEPLY BURIED BEHIND THE CLOUDSthat there was no way to tell if it
had set or not. After the long flight — chasing the sun westward so that it seemed unmoving in the sky —
it was especially disorienting; time seemed oddly variable. It took me by surprise when the forest gave
way to the first buildings, signaling that we were nearly home.
“You’ve been very quiet,” Edward observed. “Did the plane make you sick?”
“No, I’m okay.”
“Are you sad to leave?”
“More relieved than sad, I think.”
He raised one eyebrow at me. I knew it was useless and — much as I hated to admit it — unnecessary
to ask him to keep his eyes on the road.
“Renée is so much more . . .perceptive than Charlie in some ways. It was making me jumpy.”
Edward laughed. “Your mother has a very interesting mind. Almost childlike, but very insightful. She
sees things differently than other people.”
Insightful. It was a good description of my mother — when she was paying attention. Most of the time
Renée was so bewildered by her own life that she didn’t notice much else. But this weekend she’d been
paying plenty of attention to me.
Phil was busy — the high school baseball team he coached was in the playoffs — and being alone with
Edward and me had only sharpened Renée’s focus. As soon as the hugs and squeals of delight were out
of the way, Renée began to watch. And as she’d watched, her wide blue eyes had become first confused
and then concerned.
This morning we’d gone for a walk along the beach. She wanted to show off all the beauties of her new
home, still hoping, I think, that the sun might lure me away from Forks. She’d also wanted to talk with me
alone, and that was easily arranged. Edward had fabricated a term paper to give himself astay indoors during the day.
In my head, I went through the conversation again. . . .
Renée and I ambled along the sidewalk, trying to stay in the range of the infrequent palm tree shadows.
Though it was early, the heat was smothering. The air was so heavy with moisture that just breathing in
and out was giving my lungs a workout.
“Bella?” my mother asked, looking out past the sand to the lightly crashing waves as she spoke.
“What is it, Mom?”
She sighed, not meeting my gaze. “I’m worried. . . .”
“What’s wrong?” I asked, anxious at once. “What can I do?”
“It’s not me.” She shook her head. “I’m worried about you . . . and Edward.”
Renée finally looked at me when she said his name, her face apologetic.
“Oh,” I mumbled, fixing my eyes on a pair of joggers as they passed us, drenched with sweat.
“You two are more serious than I’d been thinking,” she went on.
I frowned, quickly reviewing the last two days in my head. Edward and I had barely touched — in front
of her, at least. I wondered if Renée was about to give me a lecture on responsibility, too. I didn’t mind
that the way I had with Charlie. It wasn’t embarrassing with my mom. After all, I’d been the one giving
her that lecture time and time again in the last ten years.
“There’s something . . . strange about the way you two are together,” she murmured, her forehead
creasing over her troubled eyes. “The way he watches you — it’s so . . . protective. Like he’s about to
throw himself in front of a bullet to save you or something.”
I laughed, though I was still not able to meet her gaze. “That’s a bad thing?”
“No.” She frowned as she struggled for the words. “It’s justdifferent . He’s very intense about you . . .
and very careful. I feel like I don’t really understand your relationship. Like there’s some secret I’m
missing. . . .”
“I think you’re imagining things, Mom,” I said quickly, struggling to keep my voice light. There was a
flutter in my stomach. I’d forgotten how much my mothersaw . Something about her simple view of the
world cut through all the distractions and pierced right to the truth of things. This had never been a
problem before. Until now, there had never been a secret I couldn’t tell her.
“It’s not just him.” She set her lips defensively. “I wish you could see how you move around him.”
“What do you mean?”
“The way you move — you orient yourself around him without even thinking about it. When he moves,
even a little bit, you adjust your position at the same time. Like magnets . . . or gravity. You’re like a . . .
satellite, or something. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
n excuse to
She pursed her lips and stared down.
“Don’t tell me,” I teased, forcing a smile. “You’re reading mysteries again, aren’t you? Or is it sci-fi this
time?”
Renée flushed a delicate pink. “That’s beside the point.”
“Found anything good?”
“Well, there was one — but that doesn’t matter. We’re talking about you right now.”
“You should stick to romance, Mom. You know how you freak yourself out.”
Her lips turned up at the corners. “I’m being silly, aren’t I?”
For half a second I couldn’t answer. Renée was so easily swayed. Sometimes it was a good thing,
because not all of her ideas were practical. But it pained me to see how quickly she caved in to my
trivializing, especially since she was dead right this time.
She looked up, and I controlled my expression.
“Not silly — just being a mom.”
She laughed and then gestured grandly toward the white sands stretching to the blue water.
“And all this isn’t enough to get you to move back in with your silly mom?”
I wiped my hand dramatically across my forehead, and then pretended to wring my hair out.
“You get used to the humidity,” she promised.
“You can get used to rain, too,” I countered.
She elbowed me playfully and then took my hand as we walked back to her car.
Other than her worries about me, she seemed happy enough. *******. She still looked at Phil with
goo-goo eyes, and that was comforting. Surely her life was full and satisfying. Surely she didn’t miss me
that much, even now. . . .
Edward’s icy fingers brushed my cheek. I looked up, blinking, coming back to the present. He leaned
down and kissed my forehead.
“We’re home, Sleeping Beauty. Time to awake.”
We were stopped in front of Charlie’s house. The porch light was on and the cruiser was parked in the
driveway. As I examined the house, I saw the curtain twitch in the living room window, flashing a line of
yellow light across the dark lawn.
I sighed. Of course Charlie was waiting to pounce
.Edward must have been thinking the same thing, because his expression was stiff and his eyes remote as
he came to get my door for me.
“How bad?” I asked.
“Charlie’s not going to be difficult,” Edward promised, his voice level with no hint of humor. “He missed
you.”
My eyes narrowed in doubt. If that was the case, then why was Edward tensed as if for a battle?
My bag was small, but he insisted on carrying it into the house. Charlie held the door open for us.
“Welcome home, kid!” Charlie shouted like he really meant it. “How was Jacksonville?”
“Moist. And buggy.”
“So Renée didn’t sell you on the University of Florida?”
“She tried. But I’d rather drink water than inhale it.”
Charlie’s eyes flickered unwillingly to Edward. “Did you have a nice time?”
“Yes,” Edward answered in a serene voice. “Renée was very hospitable.”
“That’s . . . um, good. Glad you had fun.” Charlie turned away from Edward and pulled me in for an
unexpected hug.
“Impressive,” I whispered in his ear.
He rumbled a laugh. “I really missed you, Bells. The food around here sucks when you’re gone.”
“I’ll get on it,” I said as he let me go.
“Would you call Jacob first? He’s been bugging me every five minutes since six o’clock this morning. I
promised I’d have you call him before you even unpacked.”
I didn’t have to look at Edward to feel that he was too still, too cold beside me. So this was the cause of
his tension.
“Jacob wants to talk to me?”
“Pretty bad, I’d say. He wouldn’t tell me what it was about — just said it was important.”
The phone rang then, shrill and demanding.
“That’s him again, I’d bet my next paycheck,” Charlie muttered.
“I got it.” I hurried to the kitchen.
Edward followed after me while Charlie disappeared into the living room.
I grabbed the phone mid-ring, and twisted around so that I was facing the wall. “Hello?”
“You’re back,” Jacob said.
His familiar husky voice sent a wave of wistfulness through me. A thousand memories spun in my head,
tangling together — a rocky beach strewn with driftwood trees, a garage made of plastic sheds, warm
sodas in a paper bag, a tiny room with one too-small shabby loveseat. The laughter in his deep-set black
eyes, the feverish heat of his big hand around mine, the flash of his white teeth against his dark skin, his
face stretching into the wide smile that had always been like a key to a secret door where only kindred
spirits could enter.
It felt sort of like homesickness, this longing for the place and person who had sheltered me through my
darkest night.
I cleared the lump from my throat. “Yes,” I answered.
“Why didn’t you call me?” Jacob demanded.
His angry tone instantly got my back up. “Because I’ve been in the house for exactly four seconds and
your call interrupted Charlie telling me that you’d called.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Sure. Now, why are you harassing Charlie?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Yeah, I figured out that part all by myself. Go ahead.”
There was a short pause.
“You going to school tomorrow?”
I frowned to myself, unable to make sense of this question. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I dunno. Just curious.”
Another pause.
“So what did you want to talk about, Jake?”
He hesitated. “Nothing really, I guess. I . . . wanted to hear your voice.”
“Yeah, I know. I’mso glad you called me, Jake. I . . .” But I didn’t know what more to say. I wanted to
tell him I was on my way to La Push right now. And I couldn’t tell him that.
“I have to go,” he said abruptly.
“What?”
“I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
But Jake —”
He was already gone. I listened to the dial tone with disbelief.
“That was short,” I muttered.
“Is everything all right?” Edward asked. His voice was low and careful.
I turned slowly to face him. His expression was perfectly smooth — impossible to read.
“I don’t know. I wonder what that was about.” It didn’t make sense that Jacob had been hounding
Charlie all day just to ask me if I was going to school. And if he’d wanted to hear my voice, then why did
he hang up so quickly?
“Your guess is probably better than mine,” Edward said, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his
mouth.
“Mmm,” I murmured. That was true. I knew Jake inside and out. It shouldn’t be that complicated to
figure out his motivations.
With my thoughts miles away — about fifteen miles away, up the road to La Push — I started combing
through the fridge, assembling ingredients for Charlie’s dinner. Edward leaned against the counter, and I
was distantly aware that his eyes were on my face, but too preoccupied to worry about what he saw
there.
The school thing seemed like the key to me. That was the only real question Jake had asked. And he
had to be after an answer to something, or he wouldn’t have been bugging Charlie so persistently.
Why would my attendance record matter to him, though?
I tried to think about it in a logical way. So, if Ihadn’t been going to school tomorrow, what would be
the problem with that, from Jacob’s perspective? Charlie had given me a little grief about missing a day of
school so close to finals, but I’d convinced him that one Friday wasn’t going to derail my studies. Jake
would hardly care about that.
My brain refused to come up with any brilliant insights. Maybe I was missing some vital piece of
information.
What could have changed in the past three days that was so important that Jacob would break his long
streak of refusing to answer my phone calls and contact me? What difference could three days make?
I froze in the middle of the kitchen. The package of icy hamburger in my hands slipped through my numb
fingers. It took me a slow second to miss the thud it should have made against the floor.
Edward had caught it and thrown it onto the counter. His arms were already around me, his lips at my
ear.
“What’s wrong?”
I shook my head, dazed.
Three days could change everything.
Hadn’t I just been thinking about how impossible college was? How I couldn’t be anywhere near people
after I’d gone through the painful three-day conversion that would set me free from mortality, so that I
could spend eternity with Edward? The conversion that would make me forever a prisoner to my own
thirst. . . .
Had Charlie told Billy that I’d vanished for three days? Had Billy jumped to conclusions? Had Jacob
really been asking me if I was still human? Making sure that the werewolves’ treaty was unbroken — that
none of the Cullens had dared to bite a human . . . bite, not kill . . . ?
But did he honestly think I would come home to Charlie if that was the case?
Edward shook me. “Bella?” he asked, truly anxious now.
“I think . . . I think he was checking,” I mumbled. “Checking to make sure. That I’m human, I mean.”
Edward stiffened, and a low hiss sounded in my ear.
“We’ll have to leave,” I whispered. “Before. So that it doesn’t break the treaty. We won’t ever be able
to come back.”
His arms tightened around me. “I know.”
“Ahem.” Charlie cleared his voice loudly behind us.
I jumped, and then pulled free of Edward’s arms, my face getting hot. Edward leaned back against the
counter. His eyes were tight. I could see worry in them, and anger.
“If you don’t want to make dinner, I can call for a pizza,” Charlie hinted.
“No, that’s okay, I’m already started.”
“Okay,” Charlie said. He propped himself against the doorframe, folding his arms.
I sighed and got to work, trying to ignore my audience.
“If I asked you to do something, would you trust me?” Edward asked, an edge to his soft voice.
We were almost to school. Edward had been relaxed and joking just a moment ago, and now suddenly
his hands were clenched tight on the steering wheel, his knuckles straining in an effort not to snap it into
pieces.
I stared at his anxious expression — his eyes were far away, like he was listening to distant voices.
My pulse sped in response to his stress, but I answered carefully. “That depends.”
We pulled into the school lot.
“I was afraid you would say that.”
“What do you want me to do, Edward?”
“I want you to stay in the car.” He pulled into his usual spot and turned the engine off as he spoke. “I
want you to wait here until I come back for you.”
“But . . .why ?”
That was when I saw him. He would have been hard to miss, towering over the students the way he did,
even if he hadn’t been leaning against his black motorcycle, parked illegally on the sidewalk.
“Oh.”
Jacob’s face was a calm mask that I recognized well. It was the face he used when he was determined
to keep his emotions in check, to keep himself under control. It made him look like Sam, the oldest of the
wolves, the leader of the Quileute pack. But Jacob could never quite manage the perfect serenity Sam
always exuded.
I’d forgotten how much this face bothered me. Though I’d gotten to know Sam pretty well before the
Cullens had come back — to like him, even — I’d never been able to completely shake the resentment I
felt when Jacob mimicked Sam’s expression. It was a stranger’s face. He wasn’t my Jacob when he
wore it.
“You jumped to the wrong conclusion last night,” Edward murmured. “He asked about school because
he knew that I would be where you were. He was looking for a safe place to talk to me. A place with
witnesses.”
So I’d misinterpreted Jacob’s motives last night. Missing information, that was the problem. Information
like why in the world Jacob would want to talk to Edward.
“I’m not staying in the car,” I said.
Edward groaned quietly. “Of course not. Well, let’s get this over with.”
Jacob’s face hardened as we walked toward him, hand in hand.
I noticed other faces, too — the faces of my classmates. I noticed how their eyes widened as they took
in all six foot seven inches of Jacob’s long body, muscled up the way no normal
sixteen-and-a-half-year-old ever had been. I saw those eyes rake over his tight black t-shirt —
short-sleeved, though the day was unseasonably cool — his ragged, grease-smeared jeans, and the
glossy black bike he leaned against. Their eyes didn’t linger on his face — something about his
expression had them glancing quickly away. And I noticed the wide berth everyone gave him, the bubble
of space that no one dared to encroach on.
With a sense of astonishment, I realized that Jacob lookeddangerous to them. How odd.
Edward stopped a few yards away from Jacob, and I could tell that he was uncomfortable having me so
close to a werewolf. He drew his hand back slightly, pulling me halfway behind his body.
“You could have called us,” Edward said in a steel-hard voice.
“Sorry,” Jacob answered, his face twisting into a sneer. “I don’t have any leeches on my speed dial.”
“You could have reached me at Bella’s house, of course.”
Jacob’s jaw flexed, and his brows pulled together. He didn’t answer.
“This is hardly the place, Jacob. Could we discuss this later?”
“Sure, sure. I’ll stop by your crypt after school.” Jacob snorted. “What’s wrong with now?”
Edward looked around pointedly, his eyes resting on the witnesses who were just barely out of hearing
range. A few people were hesitating on the sidewalk, their eyes bright with expectation. Like they were
hoping a fight might break out to alleviate the tedium of another Monday morning. I saw Tyler Crowley
nudge Austin Marks, and they both paused on their way to class.
“I already know what you came to say,” Edward reminded Jacob in voice so low thatI could barely
make it out. “Message delivered. Consider us warned.”
Edward glanced down at me for a fleeting second with worried eyes.
“Warned?” I asked blankly. “What are you talking about?”
“You didn’t tell her?” Jacob asked, his eyes widening with disbelief. “What, were you afraid she’d take
our side?”
“Please drop it, Jacob,” Edward said in an even voice.
“Why?” Jacob challenged.
I frowned in confusion. “What don’t I know? Edward?”
Edward just glared at Jacob as if he hadn’t heard me.
“Jake?”
Jacob raised his eyebrow at me. “He didn’t tell you that his big . . .brother crossed the line Saturday
night?” he asked, his tone thickly layered with sarcasm. Then his eyes flickered back to Edward. “Paul
was totally justified in —”
“It was no-man’s land!” Edward hissed.
“Was not!”
Jacob was fuming visibly. His hands trembled. He shook his head and sucked in two deep lungfuls of air.
“Emmett and Paul?” I whispered. Paul was Jacob’s most volatile pack brother. He was the one who’d
lost control that day in the woods — the memory of the snarling gray wolf was suddenly vivid in my
head. “What happened? Were they fighting?” My voice strained higher in panic. “Why? Did Paul get
hurt?”
“No one fought,” Edward said quietly, only to me. “No one got hurt. Don’t be anxious.”
Jacob was staring at us with incredulous eyes. “You didn’t tell her anything at all, did you? Is that why
you took her away? So she wouldn’t know that —?”
“Leave now.” Edward cut him off mid-sentence, and his face was abruptly frightening — truly
frightening. For a second, he looked like . . . like avampire . He glared at Jacob with vicious, unveiled
loathing.
Jacob raised his eyebrows, but made no other move. “Why haven’t you told her?”
They faced each other in silence for a long moment. More students gathered behind Tyler and Austin. I
saw Mike next to Ben — Mike had one hand on Ben’s shoulder, like he was holding him in place.
In the dead silence, all the details suddenly fell into place for me with a burst of intuition.
Something Edward didn’t want me to know.
Something that Jacob wouldn’t have kept from me.
Something that had the Cullens and the wolves both in the woods, moving in hazardous proximity to
each other.
Something that would cause Edward to insist that I fly across the country.
Something that Alice had seen in a vision last week — a vision Edward had lied to me about.
Something I’d been waiting for anyway. Something I knew would happen again, as much as I might wish
it never would. It was never going to end, was it?
I heard the quickgasp, gasp, gasp, gasp of the air dragging through my lips, but I couldn’t stop it. It
looked like the school was shaking, like there was an earthquake, but I knew it was my own trembling
that caused the illusion.
“She came back for me,” I choked out.
Victoria was never going to give up till I was dead. She would keep repeating the same pattern — feint
and run, feint and run — until she found a hole through my defenders.
Maybe I’d get lucky. Maybe the Volturi would come for me first — they’d kill me quicker, at least.
Edward held me tight to his side, angling his body so that he was still between me and Jacob, and
stroked my face with anxious hands. “It’s fine,” he whispered to me. “It’s fine. I’ll never let her get close
to you, it’s fine.”
Then he glared at Jacob. “Does that answer your question, mongrel?”
“You don’t think Bella has a right to know?” Jacob challenged. “It’s her life.”
Edward kept his voice muted; even Tyler, edging forward by inches, would be unable to hear. “Why
should she be frightened when she was never in danger?”
“Better frightened than lied to.”
I tried to pull myself together, but my eyes were swimming in moisture. I could see it behind my lids — I
could see Victoria’s face, her lips pulled back over her teeth, her crimson eyes glowing with the
obsession of her vendetta; she held Edward responsible for the demise of her love, James. She wouldn’t
stop until his love was taken from him, too.
Edward wiped the tears from my cheek with his fingertips.
“Do you really think hurting her is better than protecting her?” he murmured.
“She’s tougher than you think,” Jacob said. “And she’s been through worse.”
Abruptly, Jacob’s expression shifted, and he was staring at Edward with an odd, speculative expression.
His eyes narrowed like he was trying to do a difficult math problem in his head.
I felt Edward cringe. I glanced up at him, and his face was contorted in what could only be pain. For one
ghastly moment, I was reminded of our afternoon in Italy, in the macabre tower room of the Volturi,
where Jane had tortured Edward with her malignant gift, burning him with her thoughts alone. . . .
The memory snapped me out of my near hysteria and put everything in perspective. Because I’d rather
Victoria killed me a hundred times over than watch Edward suffer that way again.
“That’s funny,” Jacob said, laughing as he watched Edward’s face.
Edward winced, but smoothed his expression with a little effort. He couldn’t quite hide the agony in his
eyes.
I glanced, wide-eyed, from Edward’s grimace to Jacob’s sneer.
“What are you doing to him?” I demanded.
“It’s nothing, Bella,” Edward told me quietly. “Jacob just has a good memory, that’s all.”
Jacob grinned, and Edward winced again.
“Stop it! Whatever you’re doing.”
“Sure, if you want.” Jacob shrugged. “It’s his own fault if he doesn’t like the things I remember, though.”
I glared at him, and he smiled back impishly — like a kid caught doing something he knows he shouldn’t
by someone who he knows won’t punish him.
“The principal’s on his way to discourage loitering on school property,” Edward murmured to me. “Let’s
get to English, Bella, so you’re not involved.”
“Overprotective, isn’t he?” Jacob said, talking just to me. “A little trouble makes life fun. Let me guess,
you’re not allowed to have fun, are you?”
Edward glowered, and his lips pulled back from his teeth ever so slightly
“Shut up, Jake,” I said.
Jacob laughed. “That sounds like ano . Hey, if you ever feel like having a life again, you could come see
me. I’ve still got your motorcycle in my garage.”
This news distracted me. “You were supposed to sell that. You promised Charlie you would.” If I
hadn’t begged on Jake’s behalf — after all, he’d put weeks of labor into both motorcycles, and he
deserved some kind of payback — Charlie would have thrown my bike in a Dumpster. And possibly set
that Dumpster on fire.
“Yeah, right. Like I would do that. It belongs to you, not me. Anyway, I’ll hold on to it until you want it
back.”
A tiny hint of the smile I remembered was suddenly playing around the edges of his lips.
“Jake . . .”
He leaned forward, his face earnest now, the bitter sarcasm fading. “I think I might have been wrong
before, you know, about not being able to be friends. Maybe we could manage it, on my side of the line.
Come see me.”
I was vividly conscious of Edward, his arms still wrapped protectively around me, motionless as a stone.
I shot a look at his face — it was calm, patient.
“I, er, don’t know about that, Jake.”
Jacob dropped the antagonistic façade completely. It was like he’d forgotten Edward was there, or at
least he was determined to act that way. “I miss you every day, Bella. It’s not the same without you.”
“I know and I’m sorry, Jake, I just . . .”
He shook his head, and sighed. “I know. Doesn’t matter, right? I guess I’ll survive or something. Who
needs friends?” He grimaced, trying to cover the pain with a thin attempt at bravado.
Jacob’s suffering had always triggered my protective side. It was not entirely rational — Jacob was
hardly in need of any physical protection I could offer. But my arms, pinned beneath Edward’s, yearned
to reach out to him. To wrap around his big, warm waist in a silent promise of acceptance and comfort.
Edward’s shielding arms had become restraints.
“Okay, get to class,” a stern voice sounded behind us. “Move along, Mr. Crowley.”
“Get to school, Jake,” I whispered, anxious as soon as I recognized the principal’s voice. Jacob went to
the Quileute school, but he might still get in trouble for trespassing or the *****alent.
Edward released me, taking just my hand and pulling me behind his body again.
Mr. Greene pushed through the circle of spectators, his brows pressing down like ominous storm clouds
over his small eyes.
“I mean it,” he was threatening. “Detention for anyone who’s still standing here when I turn around
again.”
The audience melted away before he was finished with his sentence.
“Ah, Mr. Cullen. Do we have a problem here?”
“Not at all, Mr. Greene. We were just on our way to class.”
“Excellent. I don’t seem to recognize your friend.” Mr. Greene turned his glower on Jacob. “Are you a
new student here?”
Mr. Greene’s eyes scrutinized Jacob, and I could see that he’d come to the same conclusion everyone
else had: dangerous. A troublemaker.
“Nope,” Jacob answered, half a smirk on his broad lips.
“Then I suggest you remove yourself from school property at once, young man, before I call the police.”
Jacob’s little smirk became a full-blown grin, and I knew he was picturing Charlie showing up to arrest
him. This grin was too bitter, too full of mocking to satisfy me. This wasn’t the smile I’d been waiting to
see.
Jacob said, “Yes, sir,” and snapped a military salute before he climbed on his bike and kicked it to a
start right there on the sidewalk. The engine snarled and then the tires squealed as he spun it sharply
around. In a matter of seconds, Jacob raced out of sight.
Mr. Greene gnashed his teeth together while he watched the performance.
“Mr. Cullen, I expect you to ask your friend to refrain from trespassing again.”
“He’s no friend of mine, Mr. Greene, but I’ll pass along the warning.”
Mr. Greene pursed his lips. Edward’s perfect grades and spotless record were clearly a factor in Mr.
Greene’s assessment of the incident. “I see. If you’re worried about any trouble, I’d be happy to —”
“There’s nothing to worry about, Mr. Greene. There won’t be any trouble.”
“I hope that’s correct. Well, then. On to class. You, too, Miss Swan.”
Edward nodded, and pulled me quickly along toward the English building.
“Do you feel well enough to go to class?” he whispered when we were past the principal.
“Yes,” I whispered back, not quite sure if this was a lie.
Whether I felt well or not was hardly the most important consideration. I needed to talk to Edward right
away, and English class wasn’t the ideal place for the conversation I had in mind.
But with Mr. Greene right behind us, there weren’t a lot of other options.
We got to class a little late and took our seats quickly. Mr. Berty was reciting a Frost poem. He ignored
our entrance, refusing to let us break his rhythm.
I yanked a blank page out of my notebook and started writing, my handwriting more illegible than
normal thanks to my agitation.
What happened? Tell meeverything . And screw the protecting me crap, please.
I shoved the note at Edward. He sighed, and then began writing. It took him less time than me, though
he wrote an entire paragraph in his own personal calligraphy before he slipped the paper back.
Alice saw that Victoria was coming back. I took you out of town merely as a precaution — there was
never a chance that she would have gotten anywhere close to you. Emmett and Jasper very nearly had
her, but Victoria seems to have some instinct for evasion. She escaped right down the Quileute boundary
line as if she were reading it from a map. It didn’t help that Alice’s abilities were nullified by the
Quileutes’ involvement. To be fair, the Quileutes might have had her, too, if we hadn’t gotten in the way.
The big gray one thought Emmett was over the line, and he got defensive. Of course Rosalie reacted to
that, and everyone left the chase to protect their companions. Carlisle and Jasper got things calmed down
before it got out of hand. But by then, Victoria had slipped away. That’s everything.
I frowned at the letters on the page. All of them had been in on it — Emmett, Jasper, Alice, Rosalie, and
Carlisle. Maybe even Esme, though he hadn’t mentioned her. And then Paul and the rest of the Quileute
pack. It might so easily have turned into a fight, pitting my future family and my old friends against each
other. Any one of them could have been hurt. I imagined the wolves would be in the most danger, but
picturing tiny Alice next to one of the huge werewolves,fighting . . .
I shuddered.
Carefully, I scrubbed out the entire paragraph with my eraser and then I wrote over the top:
What about Charlie? She could have been after him.
Edward was shaking his head before I finished, obviously going to downplay any danger on Charlie’s
behalf. He held a hand out, but I ignored that and started again.
You can’t know that she wasn’t thinking that, because you weren’t here. Florida was a bad idea.
He took the paper from underneath my hand.
I wasn’t about to send you off alone. With your luck, not even the black box would survive.
That wasn’t what I’d meant at all; I hadn’t thought of going without him. I’d meant that we should have
stayed here together. But I was sidetracked by his response, and a little miffed. Like I couldn’t fly cross
country without bringing the plane down. Very funny.
So let’s say my bad luck did crash the plane. What exactly were you going to do about it?
Why is the plane crashing?
He was trying to hide a smile now.
The pilots are passed out drunk.
Easy. I’d fly the plane.
Of course. I pursed my lips and tried again.
Both engines have exploded and we’re falling in a death spiral toward the earth.
I’d wait till we were close enough to the ground, get a good grip on you, kick out the wall, and jump.
Then I’d run you back to the scene of the accident, and we’d stumble around like the two luckiest
survivors in history.
I stared at him wordlessly.
“What?” he whispered.
I shook my head in awe. “Nothing,” I mouthed.
I scrubbed out the disconcerting conversation and wrote one more line.
You will tell me next time.
I knew there would be a next time. The pattern would continue until someone lost.
Edward stared into my eyes for a long moment. I wondered what my face looked like — it felt cold, so
the blood hadn’t returned to my cheeks. My eyelashes were still wet.
He sighed and then nodded once.
Thanks.
The paper disappeared from under my hand. I looked up, blinking in surprise, just as Mr. Berty came
down the aisle.
“Is that something you’d like to share there, Mr. Cullen?”
Edward looked up innocently and held out the sheet of paper on top of his folder. “My notes?” he
asked, sounding confused.
Mr. Berty scanned the notes — no doubt a perfect transcription of his lecture — and then walked away
frowning.
It was later, in Calculus — my one class without Edward — that I heard the gossip.
“My money’s on the big Indian,” someone was saying.
I peeked up to see that Tyler, Mike, Austin, and Ben had their heads bent together, deep in
conversation.
“Yeah,” Mike whispered. “Did you see thesize of that Jacob kid? I think he could take Cullen down.”
Mike sounded pleased by the idea.
“I don’t think so,” Ben disagreed. “There’s something about Edward. He’s always so . . . confident. I
have a feeling he can take care of himself.”
“I’m with Ben,” Tyler agreed. “Besides, if that other kid messed Edward up, you know those big
brothers of his would get involved.”
“Have you been down to La Push lately?” Mike asked. “Lauren and I went to the beach a couple of
weeks ago, and believe me, Jacob’s friends are all just as big as he is.”
“Huh,” Tyler said. “Too bad it didn’t turn into anything. Guess we’ll never know how it would have
turned out.”
“It didn’t look over to me,” Austin said. “Maybe we’ll get to see.”
Mike grinned. “Anyone in the mood for a bet?”
“Ten on Jacob,” Austin said at once.
“Ten on Cullen,” Tyler chimed in.
“Ten on Edward,” Ben agreed.
“Jacob,” Mike said.
“Hey, do you guys know what it was about?” Austin wondered. “That might affect the odds.”
“I can guess,” Mike said, and then he shot a glance at me at the same time that Ben and Tyler did.
From their expressions, none of them had realized I was in easy hearing distance. They all looked away
quickly, shuffling the papers on their desks.
“I still say Jacob,” Mike muttered under his breath.
4. NATURE
IWAS HAVING A BAD WEEK.
I knew that essentially nothing had changed. Okay, so Victoria had not given up, but had I ever dreamed
for one moment that she had? Her reappearance had only confirmed what I’d already known. No reason
for fresh panic.
In theory. Not panicking was easier said than done.
Graduation was only a few weeks away, but I wondered if it wasn’t a little foolish to sit around, weak
and tasty, waiting for the next disaster. It seemed too dangerous to be human — just begging for trouble.
Someone like me shouldn’tbe human. Someone with my luck ought to be a little less helpless.
But no one would listen to me.
Carlisle had said, “There are seven of us, Bella. And with Alice on our side, I don’t think Victoria’s
going to catch us off guard. I think it’s important, for Charlie’s sake, that we stick with the original plan.”
Esme had said, “We’d never allow anything to happen to you, sweetheart. You know that. Please don’t
be anxious.” And then she’d kissed my forehead.
Emmett had said, “I’m really glad Edward didn’t kill you. Everything’s so much more fun with you
around.”
Rosalie had glared at him.
Alice had rolled her eyes and said, “I’m offended. You’re not honestlyworried about this, are you?”
“If it’s no big deal, then why did Edward drag me to Florida?” I’d demanded.
“Haven’t you noticed yet, Bella, that Edward is just the teeniest bit prone to overreaction?”
Jasper had silently erased all the panic and tension in my body with his curious talent of controlling
emotional atmospheres. I’d felt reassured, and let them talk me out of my desperate pleading.
Of course, that calm had worn off as soon as Edward and I had walked out of the room.
So the consensus was that I was just supposed to forget that a deranged vampire was stalking me, intent
on my death. Go about my business.
I did try. And surprisingly, therewere other things almost as stressful to dwell on besides my status on
the endangered species list. . . .
Because Edward’s response had been the most“That’s between you and Carlisle,” he’d said. “Of course, you know that I’m willing to make it between
you and me at any time that you wish. You know my condition.” And he had smiled angelically.
Ugh. I did know his condition. Edward had promised that he would change me himself whenever I
wanted . . . just as long as I wasmarried to him first.
Sometimes I wondered if he was only pretending that he couldn’t read my mind. How else had he struck
upon the one condition that I would have trouble accepting? The one condition that would slow me
down.
All in all, a very bad week. And today was the worst day in it.
It was always a bad day when Edward was away. Alice had foreseen nothing out of the ordinary this
weekend, and so I’d insisted that he take the opportunity to go hunting with his brothers. I knew how it
bored him to hunt the easy, nearby prey.
“Go have fun,” I’d told him. “Bag a few mountain lions for me.”
I would never admit to him how hard it was for me when he was gone — how it brought back the
abandonment nightmares. If he knew that, it would make him feel horrible and he would be afraid to ever
leave me, even for the most necessary reasons. It had been like that in the beginning, when he’d first
returned from Italy. His golden eyes had turned black and he’d suffered from his thirst more than it was
already necessary that he suffer. So I put on a brave face and all but kicked him out the door whenever
Emmett and Jasper wanted to go.
I think he saw through me, though. A little. This morning there had been a note left on my pillow:
I’ll be back so soon you won’t have time to miss me. Look after my heart — I’ve left it with you.
So now I had a big empty Saturday with nothing but my morning shift at Newton’s Olympic Outfitters to
distract me. And, of course, the oh-so-comforting promise from Alice.
“I’m staying close to home to hunt. I’ll only be fifteen minutes away if you need me. I’ll keep an eye out
for trouble.”
Translation: don’t try anything funny just because Edward is gone.
Alice was certainly just as capable of crippling my truck as Edward was.
I tried to look on the bright side. After work, I had plans to help Angela with her announcements, so that
would be a distraction. And Charlie was in an excellent mood due to Edward’s absence, so I might as
well enjoy that while it lasted. Alice would spend the night with me if I was pathetic enough to ask her to.
And then tomorrow, Edward would be home. I would survive.
Not wanting to be ridiculously early for work, I ate my breakfast slowly, one Cheerio at a time. Then,
when I’d washed the dishes, I arranged the magnets on the fridge into a perfect line. Maybe I was
developing obsessive-compulsive disorder.
The last two magnets — round black utilitarian pieces that were my favorites because they could hold frustrating of them all.

On a normal day, I would be ecstatic with this turn of events. Today . . . not so much.
“Okay,” I sighed. My shoulders slumped. What was I going to do now?
“That’s not fair, Mom,” Mike said. “If Bella wants to work —”
“No, it’s okay, Mrs. Newton. Really, Mike. I’ve got finals to study for and stuff. . . .” I didn’t want to
be a source of familial discord when they were already arguing.
“Thanks, Bella. Mike, you missed aisle four. Um, Bella, do you mind throwing these flyers in a Dumpster
on the way out? I told the girl who left them here that I’d put them on the counter, but I really don’t have
the room.”
“Sure, no problem.” I put my vest away, and then tucked the flyers under my arm and headed out into
the misty rain.
The Dumpster was around the side of Newton’s, next to where we employees were supposed to park. I
shuffled along, kicking pebbles petulantly on my way. I was about to fling the stack of bright yellow
papers into the trash when the heading printed in bold across the top caught my eye. One word in
particular seized my attention.
I clutched the papers in both hands as I stared at the picture beneath the caption. A lump rose in my
throat.
SAVE THE OLYMPIC WOLF
Under the words, there was a detailed drawing of a wolf in front of a fir tree, its head thrown back in the
act of baying at the moon. It was a disconcerting picture; something about the wolf’s plaintive posture
made him look forlorn. Like he was howling in grief.
And then I was running to my truck, the flyers still locked in my grip.
Fifteen minutes — that’s all I had. But it should be long enough. It was only fifteen minutes to La Push,
and surely I would cross the boundary line a few minutes before I hit the town.
My truck roared to life without any difficulty.
Alice couldn’t have seen me doing this, because I hadn’t been planning it. A snap decision, that was the
key! And as long as I moved fast enough, I should be able to capitalize on it.
I’d thrown the damp flyers in my haste and they were scattered in a bright mess across the passenger
seat — a hundred bolded captions, a hundred dark howling wolves outlined against the yellow
background.
I barreled down the wet highway, turning the windshield wipers on high and ignoring the groan of the
ancient engine. Fifty-five was the most I could coax out of my truck, and I prayed it would be enough.
I had no clue where the boundary line was, but I began to feel safer as I passed the first houses outside
La Push. This must be beyond where Alice was allowed to follow.
I’d call her when I got to Angela’s this afternoon, I reasoned, so that she’d know I was fine. There was

The trees blurred into a sea of black flowing around me. My muscles bunched and released in an
effortless rhythm. I could run like this for days and I would not be tired. Maybe, this time, I wouldn’t
stop.
But I wasn’t alone.
So sorry,Embry whispered in my head.
I could see through his eyes. He was far away, to the north, but he had wheeled around and was racing
to join me. I growled and pushed myself faster.
Wait for us,Quil complained. He was closer, just starting out from the village.
Leave me alone,I snarled.
I could feel their worry in my head, try hard as I might to drown it in the sound of the wind and the
forest. This was what I hated most — seeing myself through their eyes, worse now that their eyes were
full of pity. They saw the hate, but they kept running after me.
A new voice sounded in my head.
Let him go.Sam’s thought was soft, but still an order. Embry and Quil slowed to a walk.
If only I could stop hearing, stop seeing what they saw. My head was so crowded, but the only way to
be alone again was to be human, and I couldn’t stand the pain.
Phase back,Sam directed them.I’ll pick you up, Embry.
First one, then another awareness faded into silence. Only Sam was left.
Thank you,I managed to think.
Come home when you can.The words were faint, trailing off into blank emptiness as he left, too. And I
was alone.
So much better. Now I could hear the faint rustle of the matted leaves beneath my toenails, the whisper
of an owl’s wings above me, the ocean — far, far in the west — moaning against the beach. Hear this,
and nothing more. Feel nothing but speed, nothing but the pull of muscle, sinew, and bone, working
together in harmony as the miles disappeared behind me.
If the silence in my head lasted, I would never go back. I wouldn’t be the first one to choose this form
over the other. Maybe, if I ran far enough away, I would never have to hear again. . . .
I pushed my legs faster, letting Jacob Black disappear behind me.

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