I sighed, and then groaned when the sigh scraped my throat. I was reading too much into the story. Romeo wouldn’t change his mind. That’s why people still remembered his name, always twined with hers: Romeo and Juliet. That’s why it was a good story. “Juliet gets dumped and ends up with Paris” would have never been a hit.
I closed my eyes and drifted again, letting my mind wander away from the stupid play I didn’t want to think about anymore. I thought about reality instead—about jumping off the cliff and what a brainless mistake that had been. And not just the cliff, but the motorcycles and the whole irresponsible Evel Knievel bit. What if something bad happened to me? What would that do to Charlie? Harry’s heart attack had pushed everything suddenly into perspective for me. Perspective that I didn’t want to see, because—if I admitted to the truth of it—it would mean that I would have to change my ways. Could I live like that?
Maybe. It wouldn’t be easy; in fact, it would be downright miserable to give up my hallucinations and try to be a grown-up. But maybe I should do it. And maybe I could. If I had Jacob.
I couldn’t make that decision right now. It hurt too much. I’d think about something else.
Images from my ill-considered afternoon stunt rolled through my head while I tried to come up with something pleasant to think about...the feel of the air as I fell, the blackness of the water, the thrashing of the current...Edward’s face...I lingered there for a long time. Jacob’s warm hands, trying to beat life back into me...the stinging rain flung down by the purple clouds...the strange fire on the waves...
There was something familiar about that flash of color on top of the water. Of course it couldn’t really be fire—
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car squelching through the mud on the road outside. I heard it stop in front of the house, and doors started opening and closing. I thought about sitting up, and then decided against that idea.
Billy’s voice was easily identifiable, but he kept it uncharacteristically low, so that it was only a gravelly grumble.
The door opened, and the light flicked on. I blinked, momentarily blind. Jake startled awake, gasping and jumping to his feet.
“Sorry,” Billy grunted. “Did we wake you?”
My eyes slowly focused on his face, and then, as I could read his expression, they filled with tears.
“Oh, no, Billy!” I moaned.
He nodded slowly, his expression hard with grief. Jake hurried to his father and took one of his hands. The pain made his face suddenly childlike—it looked odd on top of the man’s body.
Sam was right behind Billy, pushing his chair through the door. His normal composure was absent from his agonized face.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
Billy nodded. “It’s gonna be hard all around.”
“Where’s Charlie?”
“Your dad is still at the hospital with Sue. There are a lot of...arrangements to be made.”
I swallowed hard.
“I’d better get back there,” Sam mumbled, and he ducked hastily out the door.
Billy pulled his hand away from Jacob, and then he rolled himself through the kitchen toward his room.
Jake stared after him for a minute, then came to sit on the floor beside me again. He put his face in his hands. I rubbed his shoulder, wishing I could think of anything to say.
After a long moment, Jacob caught my hand and held it to his face.
“How are you feeling? Are you okay? I probably should have taken you to a doctor or something.” He sighed.
“Don’t worry about me,” I croaked.
He twisted his head to look at me. His eyes were rimmed in red. “You don’t look so good.”
“I don’t feel so good, either, I guess.”
“I’ll go get your truck and then take you home—you probably ought to be there when Charlie gets back.”
“Right.”
I lay listlessly on the sofa while I waited for him. Billy was silent in the other room. I felt like a peeping tom, peering through the cracks at a private sorrow that wasn’t mine.
It didn’t take Jake long. The roar of my truck’s engine broke the silence before I expected it. He helped me up from the couch without speaking, keeping his arm around my shoulder when the cold air outside made me shiver. He took the driver’s seat without asking, and then pulled me next to his side to keep his arm tight around me. I leaned my head against his chest.
“How will you get home?” I asked.
“I’m not going home. We still haven’t caught the bloodsucker, remember?”
My next shudder had nothing to do with cold.
It was a quiet ride after that. The cold air had woken me up. My mind was alert, and it was working very hard and very fast.
What if? What was the right thing to do?
I couldn’t imagine my life without Jacob now—I cringed away from the idea of even trying to imagine that. Somehow, he’d become essential to my survival. But to leave things the way they were...was that cruel, as Mike had accused?
I remembered wishing that Jacob were my brother. I realized now that all I really wanted was a claim on him. It didn’t feel brotherly when he held me like this. It just felt nice—warm and comforting and familiar. Safe. Jacob was a safe harbor.
I could stake a claim. I had that much within my power.
I’d have to tell him everything, I knew that. It was the only way to be fair. I’d have to explain it right, so that he’d know I wasn’t settling, that he was much too good for me. He already knew I was broken, that part wouldn’t surprise him, but he’d need to know the extent of it. I’d even have to admit that I was crazy—explain about the voices I heard. He’d need to know everything before he made a decision.
But, even as I recognized that necessity, I knew he would take me in spite of it all. He wouldn’t even pause to think it through.
I would have to commit to this—commit as much of me as there was left, every one of the broken pieces. It was the only way to be fair to him. Would I? Could I?
Would it be so wrong to try to make Jacob happy? Even if the love I felt for him was no more than a weak echo of what I was capable of, even if my heart was far away, wandering and grieving after my fickle Romeo, would it be so very wrong?
Jacob stopped the truck in front of my dark house, cutting the engine so it was suddenly silent. Like so many other times, he seemed to be in tune with my thoughts now.
He threw his other arm around me, crushing me against his chest, binding me to him. Again, this felt nice. Almost like being a whole person again.
I thought he would be thinking of Harry, but then he spoke, and his tone was apologetic. “Sorry. I know you don’t feel exactly the way I do, Bells. I swear I don’t mind. I’m just so glad you’re okay that I could sing—and that’s something no one wants to hear.” He laughed his throaty laugh in my ear.
My breathing kicked up a notch, sanding the walls of my throat.
Wouldn’t Edward, indifferent as he might be, want me to be as happy as was possible under the circumstances? Wouldn’t enough friendly emotion linger for him to want that much for me? I thought he would. He wouldn’t begrudge me this: giving just a small bit of the love he didn’t want to my friend Jacob. After all, it wasn’t the same love at all.
Jake pressed his warm cheek against the top of my hair.
If I turned my face to the side—if I pressed my lips against his bare shoulder...I knew without any doubt exactly what would follow. It would be very easy. There would be no need for explanations tonight.
But could I do it? Could I betray my absent heart to save my pathetic life?
Butterflies assaulted my stomach as I thought about turning my head.
And then, as clearly as if I were in immediate danger, Edward’s velvet voice whispered in my ear.
“Be happy,” he told me.
I froze.
Jacob felt me stiffen and released me automatically, reaching for the door.
Wait
, I wanted to say. Just a minute. But I was still locked in place, listening to the echo of Edward’s voice in my head.
Storm-cooled air blew through the cab of the truck.
“OH!” The breath whooshed out of Jacob like someone had punched him in the gut. “Holy crap!”
He slammed the door and twisted the keys in the ignition in the same moment. His hands were shaking so hard I didn’t know how he managed it.
“What’s wrong?”
He revved the engine too fast; it sputtered and faltered.
“Vampire,” he spit out.
The blood rushed from my head and left me dizzy. “How do you know?”
“Because I can smell it! Dammit!”
Jacob’s eyes were wild, raking the dark street. He barely seemed aware of the tremors that were rolling through his body. “Phase or get her out of here?” he hissed at himself.
He looked down at me for a split second, taking in my horror-struck eyes and white face, and then he was scanning the street again. “Right. Get you out.”
The engine caught with a roar. The tires squealed as he spun the truck around, turning toward our only escape. The headlights washed across the pavement, lit the front line of the black forest, and finally glinted off a car parked across the street from my house.
“Stop!” I gasped.
It was a black car—a car I knew. I might be the furthest thing from an autophile, but I could tell you everything about that particular car. It was a Mercedes S55 AMG. I knew the horsepower and the color of the interior. I knew the feel of the powerful engine purring through the frame. I knew the rich smell of the leather seats and the way the extra-dark tint made noon look like dusk through those windows.
It was Carlisle’s car.
“Stop!” I cried again, louder this time, because Jacob was gunning the truck down the street.
“What?!”
“It’s not Victoria. Stop, stop! I want to go back.”
He stomped on the brake so hard I had to catch myself against the dashboard.
“What?” he asked again, aghast. He stared at me with horror in his eyes.
“It’s Carlisle’s car! It’s the Cullens. I know it.”
He watched dawn break across my face, and a violent tremor rocked his frame.
“Hey, calm down, Jake. It’s okay. No danger, see? Relax.”
“Yeah, calm,” he panted, putting his head down and closing his eyes. While he concentrated on not exploding into a wolf, I stared out the back window at the black car.
It was just Carlisle, I told myself. Don’t expect anything more. Maybe Esme...Stop right there, I told myself. Just Carlisle. That was plenty. More than I’d ever hoped to have again.
“There’s a vampire in your house,” Jacob hissed. “And you want to go back?”
I glanced at him, ripping my unwilling eyes off the Mercedes—terrified that it would disappear the second I looked away.
“Of course,” I said, my voice blank with surprise at his question. Of course I wanted to go back.
Jacob’s face hardened while I stared at him, congealing into the bitter mask that I’d thought was gone for good. Just before he had the mask in place, I caught the spasm of betrayal that flashed in his eyes. His hands were still shaking. He looked ten years older than me.
He took a deep breath. “You’re sure it’s not a trick?” he asked in a slow, heavy voice.
“It’s not a trick. It’s Carlisle. Take me back!”
A shudder rippled through his wide shoulders, but his eyes were flat and emotionless. “No.”
“Jake, it’s okay—”
“No. Take yourself back, Bella.” His voice was a slap—I flinched as the sound of it struck me. His jaw clenched and unclenched.
“Look, Bella,” he said in the same hard voice. “I can’t go back. Treaty or no treaty, that’s my enemy in there.”
“It’s not like that—”
“I have to tell Sam right away. This changes things. We can’t be caught on their territory.”
“Jake, it’s not a war!”
He didn’t listen. He put the truck in neutral and jumped out the door, leaving it running.
“Bye, Bella,” he called back over his shoulder. “I really hope you don’t die.” He sprinted into the darkness, shaking so hard that his shape seemed blurred; he disappeared before I could open my mouth to call him back.
Remorse pinned me against the seat for one long second. What had I just done to Jacob?
But remorse couldn’t hold me very long.
I slid across the seat and put the truck back in drive. My hands were shaking almost as hard as Jake’s had been, and this took a minute of concentration. Then I carefully turned the truck around and drove it back to my house.
It was very dark when I turned off the headlights. Charlie had left in such a hurry that he’d forgotten to leave the porch lamp on. I felt a pang of doubt, staring at the house, deep in shadow. What if it was a trick?
I looked back at the black car, almost invisible in the night. No. I knew that car.
Still, my hands were shaking even worse than before as I reached for the key above the door. When I grabbed the doorknob to unlock it, it twisted easily under my hand. I let the door fall open. The hallway was black.
I wanted to call out a greeting, but my throat was too dry. I couldn’t quite seem to catch my breath.
I took a step inside and fumbled for the light switch. It was so black—like the black water...Where was that switch?
Just like the black water, with the orange flame flickering impossibly on top of it. Flame that couldn’t be a fire, but what then...? My fingers traced the wall, still searching, still shaking—
Suddenly, something Jacob had told me this afternoon echoed in my head, finally sinking in....She took off into the water, he’d said. The bloodsuckers have the advantage there. That’s why I raced home—I was afraid she was going to double back swimming.
My hand froze in its searching, my whole body froze into place, as I realized why I recognized the strange orange color on the water.
Victoria’s hair, blowing wild in the wind, the color of fire...
She’d been right there. Right there in the harbor with me and Jacob. If Sam hadn’t been there, if it had been just the two of us...? I couldn’t breathe or move.
The light flicked on, though my frozen hand had still not found the switch.
I blinked into the sudden light, and saw that someone was there, waiting for me.
17. VISITOR
UNNATURALLY STILL AND WHITE, WITH HER LARGE BLACK eyes intent on my face, my visitor waited perfectly motionless in the center of the hall, beautiful beyond imagining.
My knees trembled for a second, and I nearly fell. Then I hurled myself at her.
“Alice, oh, Alice!” I cried, as I slammed into her.
I’d forgotten how hard she was; it was like running headlong into a wall of cement.
“Bella?” There was a strange mingling of relief and confusion in her voice.
I locked my arms around her, gasping to inhale as much of the scent of her skin as possible. It wasn’t like anything else—not floral or spice, citrus or musk. No perfume in the world could compare. My memory hadn’t done it justice.
I didn’t notice when the gasping turned into something else—I only realized I was sobbing when Alice dragged me to the living room couch and pulled me into her lap. It was like curling up into a cool stone, but a stone that was contoured comfortingly to the shape of my body. She rubbed my back in a gentle rhythm, waiting for me to get control of myself.
“I’m...sorry,” I blubbered. “I’m just...so happy...to see you!”
“It’s okay, Bella. Everything’s okay.”
“Yes,” I bawled. And, for once, it seemed that way.
Alice sighed. “I’d forgotten how exuberant you are,” she said, and her tone was disapproving.
I looked up at her through my streaming eyes. Alice’s neck was tight, straining away from me, her
lips pressed together firmly. Her eyes were black as pitch.
“Oh,” I puffed, as I realized the problem. She was thirsty. And I smelled appetizing. It had been a while since I’d had to think about that kind of thing. “Sorry.”
“It’s my own fault. It’s been too long since I hunted. I shouldn’t let myself get so thirsty. But I was in a hurry today.” The look she directed at me then was a glare. “Speaking of which, would you like to explain to me how you’re alive?”
That brought me up short and stopped the sobs. I realized what must have happened immediately, and why Alice was here.
I swallowed loudly. “You saw me fall.”
“No,” she disagreed, her eyes narrowing. “I saw you jump.”
I pursed my lips as I tried to think of an explanation that wouldn’t sound nuts.
Alice shook her head. “I told him this would happen, but he didn’t believe me. ‘Bella promised,’” her voice imitated his so perfectly that I froze in shock while the pain ripped through my torso. “‘Don’t be looking for her future, either,’” she continued to quote him. “‘We’ve done enough damage.’
“But just because I’m not looking, doesn’t mean I don’t see,” she went on. “I wasn’t keeping tabs on you, I swear, Bella. It’s just that I’m already attuned to you...when I saw you jumping, I didn’t think, I just got on a plane. I knew I would be too late, but I couldn’t do nothing. And then I get here, thinking maybe I could help Charlie somehow, and you drive up.” She shook her head, this time in confusion. Her voice was strained. “I saw you go into the water and I waited and waited for you to come up, but you didn’t. What happened? And how could you do that to Charlie? Did you stop to think what this would do to him? And my brother? Do you have any idea what Edward—”
I cut her off then, as soon as she said his name. I’d let her go on, even after I realized the misunderstanding she was under, just to hear the perfect bell tone of her voice. But it was time to interrupt.
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