The Twilight Saga Collection

by Stephenie Meyer

  “Is it really bad, Jake?” I asked anxiously, wishing I had some way to help him. “Are you miserable?”

  “No, I’m not miserable,” he told me. “Not anymore. Not now that you know. That was hard, before.” He leaned over so that his cheek was resting on top of my head.

  He was quiet for a moment, and I wondered what he was thinking about. Maybe I didn’t want to know.

  “What’s the hardest part?” I whispered, still wishing I could help.

  “The hardest part is feeling...out of control,” he said slowly. “Feeling like I can’t be sure of myself—like maybe you shouldn’t be around me, like maybe nobody should. Like I’m a monster who might hurt somebody. You’ve seen Emily. Sam lost control of his temper for just one second...and she was standing too close. And now there’s nothing he can ever do to put it right again. I hear his thoughts—I know what that feels like....

  “Who wants to be a nightmare, a monster?

  “And then, the way it comes so easily to me, the way I’m better at it than the rest of them—does that make me even less human than Embry or Sam? Sometimes I’m afraid that I’m losing myself.”

  “Is it hard? To find yourself again?”

  “At first,” he said. “It takes some practice to phase back and forth. But it’s easier for me.”

  “Why?” I wondered.

  “Because Ephraim Black was my father’s grandfather, and Quil Ateara was my mother’s grandfather.”

  “Quil?” I asked in confusion.

  “His great-grandfather,” Jacob clarified. “The Quil you know is my second cousin.”

  “But why does it matter who your great-grandfathers are?”

  “Because Ephraim and Quil were in the last pack. Levi Uley was the third. It’s in my blood on both sides. I never had a chance. Like Quil doesn’t have a chance.”

  His expression was bleak.

  “What’s the very best part?” I asked, hoping to cheer him up.

  “The best part,” he said, suddenly smiling again, “is the speed.”

  “Better than the motorcycles?”

  He nodded, enthusiastic. “There’s no comparison.”

  “How fast can you...?”

  “Run?” he finished my question. “Fast enough. What can I measure it by? We caught...what was his name? Laurent? I imagine that means more to you than it would to someone else.”

  It did mean something to me. I couldn’t imagine that—the wolves running faster than a vampire. When the Cullens ran, they all but turned invisible with speed.

  “So, tell me something I don’t know,” he said. “Something about vampires. How did you stand it, being around them? Didn’t it creep you out?”

  “No,” I said curtly.

  My tone made him thoughtful for a moment.

  “Say, why’d your bloodsucker kill that James, anyway?” he asked suddenly.

  “James was trying to kill me—it was like a game for him. He lost. Do you remember last spring when I was in the hospital down in Phoenix?”

  Jacob sucked in a breath. “He got that close?”

  “He got very, very close.” I stroked my scar. Jacob noticed, because he held the hand I moved.

  “What’s that?” He traded hands, examining my right. “This is your funny scar, the cold one.” He looked at it closer, with new eyes, and gasped.

  “Yes, it’s what you think it is,” I said. “James bit me.”

  His eyes bulged, and his face turned a strange, sallow color under the russet surface. He looked like he was about to be sick.

  “But if he bit you...? Shouldn’t you be...?” He choked.

  “Edward saved me twice,” I whispered. “He sucked the venom out—you know, like with a rattlesnake.” I twitched as the pain lashed around the edges of the hole.

  But I wasn’t the only one twitching. I could feel Jacob’s whole body trembling next to mine. Even the car shook.

  “Careful, Jake. Easy. Calm down.”

  “Yeah,” he panted. “Calm.” He shook his head back and forth quickly. After a moment, only his hands were shaking.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, almost. Tell me something else. Give me something else to think about.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “I don’t know.” He had his eyes closed, concentrating. “The extra stuff I guess. Did any of the other Cullens have...extra talents? Like the mind reading?”

  I hesitated a second. This felt like a question he would ask of his spy, not his friend. But what was the point of hiding what I knew? It didn’t matter now, and it would help him control himself.

  So I spoke quickly, the image of Emily’s ruined face in my mind, and the hair rising on my arms. I couldn’t imagine how the russet wolf would fit inside the Rabbit—Jacob would tear the whole garage apart if he changed now.

  “Jasper could...sort of control the emotions of the people around him. Not in a bad way, just to calm someone down, that kind of thing. It would probably help Paul a lot,” I added, teasing weakly. “And then Alice could see things that were going to happen. The future, you know, but not absolutely. The things she saw would change when someone changed the path they were on....”

  Like how she’d seen me dying...and she’d seen me becoming one of them. Two things that had not happened. And one that never would. My head started to spin—I couldn’t seem to pull in enough oxygen from the air. No lungs.

  Jacob was entirely in control now, very still beside me.

  “Why do you do that?” he asked. He tugged lightly at one of my arms, which was bound around my chest, and then gave up when it wouldn’t come loose easily. I hadn’t even realized I’d moved them. “You do that when you’re upset. Why?”

  “It hurts to think about them,” I whispered. “It’s like I can’t breathe...like I’m breaking into pieces....” It was bizarre how much I could tell Jacob now. We had no more secrets.

  He smoothed my hair. “It’s okay, Bella, it’s okay. I won’t bring it up again. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m fine.” I gasped. “Happens all the time. Not your fault.”

  “We’re a pretty messed-up pair, aren’t we?” Jacob said. “Neither one of us can hold our shape together right.”

  “Pathetic,” I agreed, still breathless.

  “At least we have each other,” he said, clearly comforted by the thought.

  I was comforted, too. “At least there’s that,” I agreed.

  And when we were together, it was fine. But Jacob had a horrible, dangerous job he felt compelled to do, and so I was often alone, stuck in La Push for safety, with nothing to do to keep my mind off any of my worries.

  I felt awkward, always taking up space at Billy’s. I did some studying for another Calculus test that was coming up next week, but I could only look at math for so long. When I didn’t have something obvious to do in my hands, I felt like I ought to be making conversation with Billy—the pressure of normal societal rules. But Billy wasn’t one for filling up the long silences, and so the awkwardness continued.

  I tried hanging out at Emily’s place Wednesday afternoon, for a change. At first it was kind of nice. Emily was a cheerful person who never sat still. I drifted behind her while she flitted around her little house and yard, scrubbing at the spotless floor, pulling a tiny weed, fixing a broken hinge, tugging a string of wool through an ancient loom, and always cooking, too. She complained lightly about the increase in the boys’ appetites from all their extra running, but it was easy to see she didn’t mind taking care of them. It wasn’t hard to be with her—after all, we were both wolf girls now.

  But Sam checked in after I’d been there for a few hours. I only stayed long enough to ascertain that Jacob was fine and there was no news, and then I had to escape. The aura of love and contentment that surrounded them was harder to take in concentrated doses, with no one else around to dilute it.

  So that left me wandering the beach, pacing the length of the rocky crescent back and forth, again and again.
<
br />   Alone time wasn’t good for me. Thanks to the new honesty with Jacob, I’d been talking and thinking about the Cullens way too much. No matter how I tried to distract myself—and I had plenty to think of: I was honestly and desperately worried about Jacob and his wolf-brothers, I was terrified for Charlie and the others who thought they were hunting animals, I was getting in deeper and deeper with Jacob without ever having consciously decided to progress in that direction and I didn’t know what to do about it—none of these very real, very deserving of thought, very pressing concerns could take my mind off the pain in my chest for long. Eventually, I couldn’t even walk anymore, because I couldn’t breathe. I sat down on a patch of semidry rocks and curled up in a ball.

  Jacob found me like that, and I could tell from his expression that he understood.

  “Sorry,” he said right away. He pulled me up from the ground and wrapped both arms around my shoulders. I hadn’t realized that I was cold until then. His warmth made me shudder, but at least I could breathe with him there.

  “I’m ruining your spring break,” Jacob accused himself as we walked back up the beach.

  “No, you’re not. I didn’t have any plans. I don’t think I like spring breaks, anyway.”

  “I’ll take tomorrow morning off. The others can run without me. We’ll do something fun.”

  The word seemed out of place in my life right now, barely comprehensible, bizarre. “Fun?”

  “Fun is exactly what you need. Hmm . . .” he gazed out across the heaving gray waves, deliberating. As his eyes scanned the horizon, he had a flash of inspiration.

  “Got it!” he crowed. “Another promise to keep.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He let go of my hand and pointed toward the southern edge of the beach, where the flat, rocky half-moon dead-ended against the sheer sea cliffs. I stared, uncomprehending.

  “Didn’t I promise to take you cliff diving?”

  I shivered.

  “Yeah, it’ll be pretty cold—not as cold as it is today. Can you feel the weather changing? The pressure? It will be warmer tomorrow. You up for it?”

  The dark water did not look inviting, and, from this angle, the cliffs looked even higher than before.

  But it had been days since I’d heard Edward’s voice. That was probably part of the problem. I was addicted to the sound of my delusions. It made things worse if I went too long without them. Jumping off a cliff was certain to remedy that situation.

  “Sure, I’m up for it. Fun.”

  “It’s a date,” he said, and draped his arm around my shoulders.

  “Okay—now let’s go get you some sleep.” I didn’t like the way the circles under his eyes were beginning to look permanently etched onto his skin.

  I woke early the next morning and snuck a change of clothes out to the truck. I had a feeling that Charlie would approve of today’s plan just about as much as he would approve of the motorcycle.

  The idea of a distraction from all my worries had me almost excited. Maybe it would be fun. A date with Jacob, a date with Edward... I laughed darkly to myself. Jake could say what he wanted about us being a messed-up pair—I was the one who was truly messed up. I made the werewolf seem downright normal.

  I expected Jacob to meet me out front, the way he usually did when my noisy truck announced my arrival. When he didn’t, I guessed that he might still be sleeping. I would wait—let him get as much rest as he could. He needed his sleep, and that would give the day time to warm a bit more. Jake had been right about the weather, though; it had changed in the night. A thick layer of clouds pressed heavily on the atmosphere now, making it almost sultry; it was warm and close under the gray blanket. I left my sweater in the truck.

  I knocked quietly on the door.

  “C’mon in, Bella,” Billy said.

  He was at the kitchen table, eating cold cereal.

  “Jake sleeping?”

  “Er, no.” He set his spoon down, and his eyebrows pulled together.

  “What happened?” I demanded. I could tell from his expression that something had.

  “Embry, Jared, and Paul crossed a fresh trail early this morning. Sam and Jake took off to help. Sam was hopeful—she’s hedged herself in beside the mountains. He thinks they have a good chance to finish this.”

  “Oh, no, Billy,” I whispered. “Oh, no.”

  He chuckled, deep and low. “Do you really like La Push so well that you want to extend your sentence here?”

  “Don’t make jokes, Billy. This is too scary for that.”

  “You’re right,” he agreed, still complacent. His ancient eyes were impossible to read. “This one’s tricky.”

  I bit my lip.

  “It’s not as dangerous for them as you think it is. Sam knows what he’s doing. You’re the one that you should worry about. The vampire doesn’t want to fight them. She’s just trying to find a way around them...to you.”

  “How does Sam know what he’s doing?” I demanded, brushing aside his concern for me. “They’ve only killed just the one vampire—that could have been luck.”

  “We take what we do very seriously, Bella. Nothing’s been forgotten. Everything they need to know has been passed down from father to son for generations.”

  That didn’t comfort me the way he probably intended it to. The memory of Victoria, wild, catlike, lethal, was too strong in my head. If she couldn’t get around the wolves, she would eventually try to go through them.

  Billy went back to his breakfast; I sat down on the sofa and flipped aimlessly though the TV channels. That didn’t last long. I started to feel closed in by the small room, claustrophobic, upset by the fact that I couldn’t see out the curtained windows.

  “I’ll be at the beach,” I told Billy abruptly, and hurried out the door.

  Being outside didn’t help as much as I’d hoped. The clouds pushed down with an invisible weight that kept the claustrophobia from easing. The forest seemed strangely vacant as I walked toward the beach. I didn’t see any animals—no birds, no squirrels. I couldn’t hear any birds, either. The silence was eerie; there wasn’t even the sound of wind in the trees.

  I knew it was all just a product of the weather, but it still made me edgy. The heavy, warm pressure of the atmosphere was perceptible even to my weak human senses, and it hinted at something major in the storm department. A glance at the sky backed this up; the clouds were churning sluggishly despite the lack of breeze on the ground. The closest clouds were a smoky gray, but between the cracks I could see another layer that was a gruesome purple color. The skies had a ferocious plan in store for today. The animals must be bunkering down.

  As soon as I reached the beach, I wished I hadn’t come—I’d already had enough of this place. I’d been here almost every day, wandering alone. Was it so much different from my nightmares? But where else to go? I trudged down to the driftwood tree, and sat at the end so that I could lean against the tangled roots. I stared up at the angry sky broodingly, waiting for the first drops to break the stillness.

  I tried not to think about the danger Jacob and his friends were in. Because nothing could happen to Jacob. The thought was unendurable. I’d lost too much already—would fate take the last few shreds of peace left behind? That seemed unfair, out of balance. But maybe I’d violated some unknown rule, crossed some line that had condemned me. Maybe it was wrong to be so involved with myths and legends, to turn my back on the human world. Maybe...

  No. Nothing would happen to Jacob. I had to believe that or I wouldn’t be able to function.

  “Argh!” I groaned, and jumped off the log. I couldn’t sit still; it was worse than pacing.

  I’d really been counting on hearing Edward this morning. It seemed like that was the one thing that might make it bearable to live through this day. The hole had been festering lately, like it was getting revenge for the times that Jacob’s presence had tamed it. The edges burned.

  The waves picked up as I paced, beginning to crash against t
he rocks, but there was still no wind. I felt pinned down by the pressure of the storm. Everything swirled around me, but it was perfectly still where I stood. The air had a faint electric charge—I could feel the static in my hair.

  Farther out, the waves were angrier than they were along the shore. I could see them battering against the line of the cliffs, spraying big white clouds of sea foam into the sky. There was still no movement in the air, though the clouds roiled more quickly now. It was eerie looking—like the clouds were moving by their own will. I shivered, though I knew it was just a trick of the pressure.

  The cliffs were a black knife edge against the livid sky. Staring at them, I remembered the day Jacob had told me about Sam and his “gang.” I thought of the boys—the werewolves—throwing themselves into the empty air. The image of the falling, spiraling figures was still vivid in my mind. I imagined the utter freedom of the fall....I imagined the way Edward’s voice would have sounded in my head—furious, velvet, perfect....The burning in my chest flared agonizingly.

  There had to be some way to quench it. The pain was growing more and more intolerable by the second. I glared at the cliffs and the crashing waves.

  Well, why not? Why not quench it right now?

  Jacob had promised me cliff diving, hadn’t he? Just because he was unavailable, should I have to give up the distraction I needed so badly—needed even worse because Jacob was out risking his life? Risking it, in essence, for me. If it weren’t for me, Victoria would not be killing people here...just somewhere else, far away. If anything happened to Jacob, it would be my fault. That realization stabbed deep and had me jogging back up to the road toward Billy’s house, where my truck waited.

  I knew my way to the lane that passed closest to the cliffs, but I had to hunt for the little path that would take me out to the ledge. As I followed it, I looked for turns or forks, knowing that Jake had planned to take me off the lower outcropping rather than the top, but the path wound in a thin single line toward the brink with no options. I didn’t have time to find another way down—the storm was moving in quickly now. The wind was finally beginning to touch me, the clouds pressing closer to the ground. Just as I reached the place where the dirt path fanned out into the stone precipice, the first drops broke through and splattered on my face.