She thought about how to answer me. Wow, this is going to sound bad. But, honestly, it will be easier to deal with your pain than face mine.
Fair enough.
I know it’s going to be bad for you, Jacob. I understand that—maybe better than you think. I don’t like her, but… she’s your Sam. She’s everything you want and everything you can’t have.
I couldn’t answer.
I know it’s worse for you. At least Sam is happy. At least he’s alive and well. I love him enough that I want that. I want him to have what’s best for him. She sighed. I just don’t want to stick around to watch.
Do we need to talk about this?
I think we do. Because I want you to know that I won’t make it worse for you. Hell, maybe I’ll even help. I wasn’t born a compassionless shrew. I used to be sort of nice, you know.
My memory doesn’t go that far back.
We both laughed once.
I’m sorry about this, Jacob. I’m sorry you’re in pain. I’m sorry it’s getting worse and not better.
Thanks, Leah.
She thought about the things that were worse, the black pictures in my head, while I tried to tune her out without much success. She was able to look at them with some distance, some perspective, and I had to admit that this was helpful. I could imagine that maybe I would be able to see it that way, too, in a few years.
She saw the funny side of the daily irritations that came from hanging out around vampires. She liked my ragging on Rosalie, chuckling internally and even running through a few blonde jokes in her mind that I might be able to work in. But then her thoughts turned serious, lingering on Rosalie’s face in a way that confused me.
You know what’s crazy? she asked.
Well, almost everything is crazy right now. But what do you mean?
That blond vampire you hate so much—I totally get her perspective.
For a second I thought she was making a joke that was in very poor taste. And then, when I realized she was serious, the fury that ripped through me was hard to control. It was a good thing we’d spread out to run our watch. If she’d been within biting distance…
Hold up! Let me explain!
Don’t want to hear it. I’m outta here.
Wait! Wait! she pleaded as I tried to calm myself enough to phase back. C’mon, Jake!
Leah, this isn’t really the best way to convince me that I want to spend more time with you in the future.
Yeesh! What an overreaction. You don’t even know what I’m talking about.
So what are you talking about?
And then she was suddenly the pain-hardened Leah from before. I’m talking about being a genetic dead end, Jacob.
The vicious edge to her words left me floundering. I hadn’t expected to have my anger trumped.
I don’t understand.
You would, if you weren’t just like the rest of them. If my “female stuff”—she thought the words with a hard, sarcastic tone—didn’t send you running for cover just like any stupid male, so you could actually pay attention to what it all means.
Oh.
Yeah, so none of us like to think about that stuff with her. Who would? Of course I remembered Leah’s panic that first month after she joined the pack—and I remembered cringing away from it just like everyone else. Because she couldn’t be pregnant—not unless there was some really freaky religious immaculate crap going on. She hadn’t been with anyone since Sam. And then, when the weeks dragged on and nothing turned into more nothing, she’d realized that her body wasn’t following the normal patterns anymore. The horror—what was she now? Had her body changed because she’d become a werewolf? Or had she become a werewolf because her body was wrong? The only female werewolf in the history of forever. Was that because she wasn’t as female as she should be?
None of us had wanted to deal with that breakdown. Obviously, it wasn’t like we could empathize.
You know why Sam thinks we imprint, she thought, calmer now.
Sure. To carry on the line.
Right. To make a bunch of new little werewolves. Survival of the species, genetic override. You’re drawn to the person who gives you the best chance to pass on the wolf gene.
I waited for her to tell me where she was going with this.
If I was any good for that, Sam would have been drawn to me.
Her pain was enough that I broke stride under it.
But I’m not. There’s something wrong with me. I don’t have the ability to pass on the gene, apparently, despite my stellar bloodlines. So I become a freak—the girlie-wolf—good for nothing else. I’m a genetic dead end and we both know it.
We do not, I argued with her. That’s just Sam’s theory. Imprinting happens, but we don’t know why. Billy thinks it’s something else.
I know, I know. He thinks you’re imprinting to make stronger wolves. Because you and Sam are such humongous monsters—bigger than our fathers. But either way, I’m still not a candidate. I’m… I’m menopausal. I’m twenty years old and I’m menopausal.
Ugh. I so didn’t want to have this conversation. You don’t know that, Leah. It’s probably just the whole frozen-in-time thing. When you quit your wolf and start getting older again, I’m sure things will… er… pick right back up.
I might think that—except that no one’s imprinting on me, notwithstanding my impressive pedigree. You know, she added thoughtfully, if you weren’t around, Seth would probably have the best claim to being Alpha—through his blood, at least. Of course, no one would ever consider me. . . .
You really want to imprint, or be imprinted on, or whichever? I demanded. What’s wrong with going out and falling in love like a normal person, Leah? Imprinting is just another way of getting your choices taken away from you.
Sam, Jared, Paul, Quil… they don’t seem to mind.
None of them have a mind of their own.
You don’t want to imprint?
Hell, no!
That’s just because you’re already in love with her. That would go away, you know, if you imprinted. You wouldn’t have to hurt over her anymore.
Do you want to forget the way you feel about Sam?
She deliberated for a moment. I think I do.
I sighed. She was in a healthier place than I was.
But back to my original point, Jacob. I understand why your blond vampire is so cold—in the figurative sense. She’s focused. She’s got her eyes on the prize, right? Because you always want the very most what you can never, ever have.
You would act like Rosalie? You would murder someone—because that’s what she’s doing, making sure no one interferes with Bella’s death—you would do that to have a baby? Since when are you a breeder?
I just want the options I don’t have, Jacob. Maybe, if there was nothing wrong with me, I would never give it a thought.
You would kill for that? I demanded, not letting her escape my question.
That’s not what she’s doing. I think it’s more like she’s living vicariously. And… if Bella asked me to help her with this… She paused, considering. Even though I don’t think too much of her, I’d probably do the same as the bloodsucker.
A loud snarl ripped through my teeth.
Because, if it was turned around, I’d want Bella to do that for me. And so would Rosalie. We’d both do it her way.
Ugh! You’re as bad as they are!
That’s the funny thing about knowing you can’t have something. It makes you desperate.
And… that’s my limit. Right there. This conversation is over.
Fine.
It wasn’t enough that she’d agreed to stop. I wanted a stronger termination than that.
I was only about a mile from where I’d left my clothes, so I phased back to human and walked. I didn’t think about our conversation. Not because there wasn’t anything to think about, but because I couldn’t stand it. I would not see it that way—but it was harder to keep from doing that when Leah had put the thoughts and emotions strai
ght into my head.
Yeah, I wasn’t running with her when this was finished. She could go be miserable in La Push. One little Alpha command before I left for good wasn’t going to kill anybody.
It was real early when I got to the house. Bella was probably still asleep. I figured I’d poke my head in, see what was going on, give ’em the green light to go hunting, and then find a patch of grass soft enough to sleep on while human. I wasn’t phasing back until Leah was asleep.
But there was a lot of low mumbling going on inside the house, so maybe Bella wasn’t sleeping. And then I heard the machinery sound from upstairs again—the X-ray? Great. It looked like day four on the countdown was starting off with a bang.
Alice opened the door for me before I could walk in.
She nodded. “Hey, wolf.”
“Hey, shortie. What’s going on upstairs?” The big room was empty—all the murmurs were on the second floor.
She shrugged her pointy little shoulders. “Maybe another break.” She tried to say the words casually, but I could see the flames in the very back of her eyes. Edward and I weren’t the only ones who were burning over this. Alice loved Bella, too.
“Another rib?” I asked hoarsely.
“No. Pelvis this time.”
Funny how it kept hitting me, like each new thing was a surprise. When was I going to stop being surprised? Each new disaster seemed kinda obvious in hindsight.
Alice was staring at my hands, watching them tremble.
Then we were listening to Rosalie’s voice upstairs.
“See, I told you I didn’t hear a crack. You need your ears checked, Edward.”
There was no answer.
Alice made a face. “Edward’s going to end up ripping Rose into small pieces, I think. I’m surprised she doesn’t see that. Or maybe she thinks Emmett will be able to stop him.”
“I’ll take Emmett,” I offered. “You can help Edward with the ripping part.”
Alice half-smiled.
The procession came down the stairs then—Edward had Bella this time. She was gripping her cup of blood in both hands, and her face was white. I could see that, though he compensated for every tiny movement of his body to keep from jostling her, she was hurting.
“Jake,” she whispered, and she smiled through the pain.
I stared at her, saying nothing.
Edward placed Bella carefully on her couch and sat on the floor by her head. I wondered briefly why they didn’t leave her upstairs, and then decided at once that it must be Bella’s idea. She’d want to act like things were normal, avoid the hospital setup. And he was humoring her. Naturally.
Carlisle came down slowly, the last one, his face creased with worry. It made him look old enough to be a doctor for once.
“Carlisle,” I said. “We went halfway to Seattle. There’s no sign of the pack. You’re good to go.”
“Thank you, Jacob. This is good timing. There’s much that we need.” His black eyes flickered to the cup that Bella was holding so tight.
“Honestly, I think you’re safe to take more than three. I’m pretty positive that Sam is concentrating on La Push.”
Carlisle nodded in agreement. It surprised me how willingly he took my advice. “If you think so. Alice, Esme, Jasper, and I will go. Then Alice can take Emmett and Rosa—”
“Not a chance,” Rosalie hissed. “Emmett can go with you now.”
“You should hunt,” Carlisle said in a gentle voice.
His tone didn’t soften hers. “I’ll hunt when he does,” she growled, jerking her head toward Edward and then flipping her hair back.
Carlisle sighed.
Jasper and Emmett were down the stairs in a flash, and Alice joined them by the glass back door in the same second. Esme flitted to Alice’s side.
Carlisle put his hand on my arm. The icy touch did not feel good, but I didn’t jerk away. I held still, half in surprise, and half because I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
“Thank you,” he said again, and then he darted out the door with the other four. My eyes followed them as they flew across the lawn and then disappeared before I took another breath. Their needs must have been more urgent than I’d imagined.
There was no sound for a minute. I could feel someone glaring at me, and I knew who it would be. I’d been planning to take off and get some Z’s, but the chance to ruin Rosalie’s morning seemed too good to pass up.
So I sauntered over to the armchair next to the one Rosalie had and settled in, sprawling out so that my head was tilted toward Bella and my left foot was near Rosalie’s face.
“Ew. Someone put the dog out,” she murmured, wrinkling her nose.
“Have you heard this one, Psycho? How do a blonde’s brain cells die?”
She didn’t say anything.
“Well?” I asked. “Do you know the punch line or not?”
She looked pointedly at the TV and ignored me.
“Has she heard it?” I asked Edward.
There was no humor on his tense face—he didn’t move his eyes from Bella. But he said, “No.”
“Awesome. So you’ll enjoy this, bloodsucker—a blonde’s brain cells die alone.”
Rosalie still didn’t look at me. “I have killed a hundred times more often than you have, you disgusting beast. Don’t forget that.”
“Someday, Beauty Queen, you’re going to get tired of just threatening me. I’m really looking forward to that.”
“Enough, Jacob,” Bella said.
I looked down, and she was scowling at me. It looked like yesterday’s good mood was long gone.
Well, I didn’t want to bug her. “You want me to take off?” I offered.
Before I could hope—or fear—that she’d finally gotten tired of me, she blinked, and her frown disappeared. She seemed totally shocked that I would come to that conclusion. “No! Of course not.”
I sighed, and I heard Edward sigh very quietly, too. I knew he wished she’d get over me, too. Too bad he’d never ask her to do anything that might make her unhappy.
“You look tired,” Bella commented.
“Dead beat,” I admitted.
“I’d like to beat you dead,” Rosalie muttered, too low for Bella to hear.
I just slumped deeper into the chair, getting comfortable. My bare foot dangled closer to Rosalie, and she stiffened. After a few minutes Bella asked Rosalie for a refill. I felt the wind as Rosalie blew upstairs to get her some more blood. It was really quiet. Might as well take a nap, I figured.
And then Edward said, “Did you say something?” in a puzzled tone. Strange. Because no one had said anything, and because Edward’s hearing was as good as mine, and he should have known that.
He was staring at Bella, and she was staring back. They both looked confused.
“Me?” she asked after a second. “I didn’t say anything.”
He moved onto his knees, leaning forward over her, his expression suddenly intense in a whole different way. His black eyes focused on her face.
“What are you thinking about right now?”
She stared at him blankly. “Nothing. What’s going on?”
“What were you thinking about a minute ago?” he asked.
“Just… Esme’s island. And feathers.”
Sounded like total gibberish to me, but then she blushed, and I figured I was better off not knowing.
“Say something else,” he whispered.
“Like what? Edward, what’s going on?”
His face changed again, and he did something that made my mouth fall open with a pop. I heard a gasp behind me, and I knew that Rosalie was back, and just as flabbergasted as I was.
Edward, very lightly, put both of his hands against her huge, round stomach.
“The f—” He swallowed. “It… the baby likes the sound of your voice.”
There was one short beat of total silence. I could not move a muscle, even to blink. Then—
“Holy crow, you can hear him!” Bella shouted. In the next second,
she winced.
Edward’s hand moved to the top peak of her belly and gently rubbed the spot where it must have kicked her.
“Shh,” he murmured. “You startled it… him.”
Her eyes got all wide and full of wonder. She patted the side of her stomach. “Sorry, baby.”
Edward was listening hard, his head tilted toward the bulge.
“What’s he thinking now?” she demanded eagerly.
“It… he or she, is . . .” He paused and looked up into her eyes. His eyes were filled with a similar awe—only his were more careful and grudging. “He’s happy,” Edward said in an incredulous voice.
Her breath caught, and it was impossible not to see the fanatical gleam in her eyes. The adoration and the devotion. Big, fat tears overflowed her eyes and ran silently down her face and over her smiling lips.
As he stared at her, his face was not frightened or angry or burning or any of the other expressions he’d worn since their return. He was marveling with her.
“Of course you’re happy, pretty baby, of course you are,” she crooned, rubbing her stomach while the tears washed her cheeks. “How could you not be, all safe and warm and loved? I love you so much, little EJ, of course you’re happy.”
“What did you call him?” Edward asked curiously.
She blushed again. “I sort of named him. I didn’t think you would want… well, you know.”
“EJ?”
“Your father’s name was Edward, too.”
“Yes, it was. What—?” He paused and then said, “Hmm.”
“What?”
“He likes my voice, too.”
“Of course he does.” Her tone was almost gloating now. “You have the most beautiful voice in the universe. Who wouldn’t love it?”
“Do you have a backup plan?” Rosalie asked then, leaning over the back of the sofa with the same wondering, gloating look on her face that was on Bella’s. “What if he’s a she?”
Bella wiped the back of her hand under her wet eyes. “I kicked a few things around. Playing with Renée and Esme. I was thinking… Ruh-nez-may.”
“Ruhnezmay?”
“R-e-n-e-s-m-e-e. Too weird?”
“No, I like it,” Rosalie assured her. Their heads were close together, gold and mahogany. “It’s beautiful. And one of a kind, so that fits.”
The Twilight Saga Collection Page 155