"Is that all right?" he asked, concerned by my silence.
"Well . . . sure, except for one thing."
"What thing?" His eyes were anxious. It was mind-boggling, but, somehow, he still seemed unsure of his hold on me. Maybe I needed to make myself more clear.
"Why didn't Alice tell Charlie you were leaving tonight?" I asked.
He laughed, relieved.
I enjoyed the trip to the clearing more than I had last night. I still felt guilty, still afraid, but I wasn't terrified anymore. I could function. I could see past what was coming, and almost believe that maybe it would be okay. Edward was apparently fine with the idea of missing the fight . . . and that made it very hard not to believe him when he said this would be easy. He wouldn't leave his family if he didn't believe it himself. Maybe Alice was right, and I did worry too much.
We got to the clearing last.
Jasper and Emmett were already wrestling -- just warming up from the sounds of their laughter. Alice and Rosalie lounged on the hard ground, watching. Esme and Carlisle were talking a few yards away, heads close together, fingers linked, not paying attention.
It was much brighter tonight, the moon shining through the thin clouds, and I could easily see the three wolves that sat around the edge of the practice ring, spaced far apart to watch from different angles.
It was also easy to recognize Jacob; I would have known him at once, even if he hadn't looked up and stared at the sound of our approach.
"Where are the rest of the wolves?" I wondered.
"They don't all need to be here. One would do the job, but Sam didn't trust us enough to just send Jacob, though Jacob was willing. Quil and Embry are his usual . . . I guess you could call them his wingmen."
"Jacob trusts you."
Edward nodded. "He trusts us not to try to kill him. That's about it, though."
"Are you participating tonight?" I asked, hesitant. I knew this was going to be almost as hard for him as being left behind would have been for me. Maybe harder.
"I'll help Jasper when he needs it. He wants to try some unequal groupings, teach them how to deal with multiple attackers."
He shrugged.
And a fresh wave of panic shattered my brief sense of confidence.
They were still outnumbered. I was making that worse.
I stared at the field, trying to hide my reaction.
It was the wrong place to look, struggling as I was to lie to myself, to convince myself that everything would work out as I needed it to. Because when I forced my eyes away from the Cullens -- away from the image of their play fighting that would be real and deadly in just a few days -- Jacob caught my eyes and smiled.
It was the same wolfy grin as before, his eyes scrunching the way they did when he was human.
It was hard to believe that, not so long ago, I'd found the werewolves frightening -- lost sleep to nightmares about them.
I knew, without asking, which of the others was Embry and which was Quil. Because Embry was clearly the thinner gray wolf with the dark spots on his back, who sat so patiently watching, while Quil -- deep chocolate brown, lighter over his face -- twitched constantly, looking like he was dying to join in the mock fight. They weren't monsters, even like this. They were friends.
Friends who didn't look nearly as indestructible as Emmett and Jasper did, moving faster than cobra strikes while the moonlight glinted off their granite-hard skin. Friends who didn't seem to understand the danger involved here. Friends who were still somewhat mortal, friends who could bleed, friends who could die. . . .
Edward's confidence was reassuring, because it was plain that he wasn't truly worried about his family. But would it hurt him if something happened to the wolves? Was there any reason for him to be anxious, if that possibility didn't bother him? Edward's confidence only applied to one set of my fears.
I tried to smile back at Jacob, swallowing against the lump in my throat. I didn't seem to get it right.
Jacob sprang lightly to his feet, his agility at odds with his sheer mass, and trotted over to where Edward and I stood on the fringe of things.
"Jacob," Edward greeted him politely.
Jacob ignored him, his dark eyes on me. He put his head down to my level, as he had yesterday, cocking it to one side. A low whimper escaped his muzzle.
"I'm fine," I answered, not needing the translation that Edward was about to give. "Just worried, you know."
Jacob continued to stare at me.
"He wants to know why," Edward murmured.
Jacob growled -- not a threatening sound, an annoyed sound -- and Edward's lips twitched.
"What?" I asked.
"He thinks my translations leave something to be desired. What he actually thought was, 'That's really stupid. What is there to be worried about?' I edited, because I thought it was rude."
I halfway smiled, too anxious to really feel amused. "There's plenty to be worried about," I told Jacob. "Like a bunch of really stupid wolves getting themselves hurt."
Jacob laughed his coughing bark.
Edward sighed. "Jasper wants help. You'll be okay without a translator?"
"I'll manage."
Edward looked at me wistfully for one minute, his expression hard to understand, then turned his back and strode over to where Jasper waited.
I sat down where I was. The ground was cold and uncomfortable.
Jacob took a step forward, then looked back at me, and a low whine rose in his throat. He took another half-step.
"Go on without me," I told him. "I don't want to watch."
Jacob leaned his head to the side again for a moment, and then folded himself on to the ground beside me with a rumbling sigh.
"Really, you can go ahead," I assured him. He didn't respond, he just put his head down on his paws.
I stared up at the bright silver clouds, not wanting to see the fight. My imagination had more than enough fuel. A breeze blew through the clearing, and I shivered.
Jacob scooted himself closer to me, pressing his warm fur against my left side.
"Er, thanks," I muttered.
After a few minutes, I leaned against his wide shoulder. It was much more comfortable that way.
The clouds moved slowly across the sky, dimming and brightening as thick patches crossed the moon and passed on.
Absently, I began pulling my fingers through the fur on his neck. That same strange humming sound that he'd made yesterday rumbled in his throat. It was a homey kind of sound. Rougher, wilder than a cat's purr, but conveying the same sense of contentment.
"You know, I never had a dog," I mused. "I always wanted one, but Renee's allergic."
Jacob laughed; his body shook under me.
"Aren't you worried about Saturday at all?" I asked.
He turned his enormous head toward me, so that I could see one of his eyes roll.
"I wish I could feel that positive."
He leaned his head against my leg and started humming again. And it did make me feel just a little bit better.
"So we've got some hiking to do tomorrow, I guess."
He rumbled; the sound was enthusiastic.
"It might be a long hike," I warned him. "Edward doesn't judge distances the way a normal person does."
Jacob barked another laugh.
I settled deeper into his warm fur, resting my head against his neck.
It was strange. Even though he was in this bizarre form, this felt more like the way Jake and I used to be -- the easy, effortless friendship that was as natural as breathing in and out -- than the last few times I'd been with Jacob while he was human. Odd that I should find that again here, when I'd thought this wolf thing was the cause of its loss.
The killing games continued in the clearing, and I stared at the hazy moon.
20. COMPROMISE
EVERYTHING WAS READY.
I was packed for my two-day visit with "Alice," and my bag waited for me on the passenger seat of my truck. I'd given the concert tickets to Angela, Ben,
and Mike. Mike was going to take Jessica, which was exactly as I'd hoped. Billy had borrowed Old Quil Ateara's boat and invited Charlie down for some open sea fishing before the afternoon game started. Collin and Brady, the two youngest werewolves, were staying behind to protect La Push -- though they were just children, both of them only thirteen. Still, Charlie would be safer than anyone left in Forks.
I had done all that I could do. I tried to accept that, and put the things that were outside of my control out of my head, for tonight at least. One way or another, this would all be over in forty-eight hours. The thought was almost comforting.
Edward had requested that I relax, and I was going to do my best.
"For this one night, could we try to forget everything besides just you and me?" he'd pleaded, unleashing the full force of his eyes on me. "It seems like I can never get enough time like that. I need to be with you. Just you."
That was not a hard request to agree to, though I knew that forgetting my fears would be much easier said than done. Other matters were on my mind now, knowing that we had this night to be alone, and that would help.
There were some things that had changed.
For instance, I was ready.
I was ready to join his family and his world. The fear and guilt and anguish I was feeling now had taught me that much. I'd had a chance to concentrate on this -- as I'd gazed at the moon through the clouds and rested against a werewolf -- and I knew I would not panic again. The next time something came at us, I would be ready. An asset, not a liability. He would never have to make the choice between me and his family again. We would be partners, like Alice and Jasper. Next time, I would do my part.
I would wait for the sword to be removed from over my head, so that Edward would be satisfied. But it wasn't necessary. I was ready.
There was only one missing piece.
One piece, because there were some things that had not changed, and that included the desperate way I loved him. I'd had plenty of time to think through the ramifications of Jasper and Emmett's bet -- to figure out the things I was willing to lose with my humanity, and the part that I was not willing to give up. I knew which human experience I was going to insist on before I became inhuman.
So we had some things to work out tonight. After everything I'd seen in the past two years, I didn't believe in the word impossible anymore. It was going to take more than that to stop me now.
Okay, well, honestly, it was probably going to be much more complicated than that. But I was going to try.
As decided as I was, I wasn't surprised that I still felt nervous as I drove down the long path to his house -- I didn't know how to do what I was trying to do, and that guaranteed me some serious jitters. He sat in the passenger seat, fighting a smile at my slow pace. I was surprised that he hadn't insisted on taking the wheel, but tonight he seemed content to go at my speed.
It was after dark when we reached the house. In spite of that, the meadow was bright in the light shining from every window.
As soon as I cut the engine he was at my door, opening it for me. He lifted me from the cab with one arm, slinging my bag out of the truck bed and over his shoulder with the other. His lips found mine as I heard him kick the truck's door shut behind me.
Without breaking the kiss, he swung me up so that I was cradled in his arms and carried me into the house.
Was the front door already open? I didn't know. We were inside, though, and I was dizzy. I had to remind myself to breathe.
This kissing did not frighten me. It wasn't like before when I could feel the fear and panic leaking through his control. His lips were not anxious, but enthusiastic now -- he seemed as thrilled as I was that we had tonight to concentrate on being together. He continued to kiss me for several minutes, standing there in the entry; he seemed less guarded than usual, his mouth cold and urgent on mine.
I began to feel cautiously optimistic. Perhaps getting what I wanted would not be as difficult as I'd expected it to be.
No, of course it was going to be just exactly that difficult.
With a low chuckle, he pulled me away, holding me at arm's length.
"Welcome home," he said, his eyes liquid and warm.
"That sounds nice," I said, breathless.
He set me gently on my feet. I wrapped both my arms around him, refusing to allow any space between us.
"I have something for you," he said, his tone conversational.
"Oh?"
"Your hand-me-down, remember? You said that was allowable."
"Oh, that's right. I guess I did say that."
He chuckled at my reluctance.
"It's up in my room. Shall I go get it?"
His bedroom? "Sure," I agreed, feeling quite devious as I wound my fingers through his. "Let's go."
He must have been eager to give me my non-present, because human velocity was not fast enough for him. He scooped me up again and nearly flew up the stairs to his room. He set me down at the door, and darted into his closet.
He was back before I'd taken a step, but I ignored him and went to the huge gold bed, plopping down on the edge and then sliding to the center. I curled up in a ball, my arms wrapped around my knees.
"Okay," I grumbled. Now that I was where I wanted to be, I could afford a little reluctance. "Let me have it."
Edward laughed.
He climbed onto the bed to sit next to me, and my heart thumped unevenly. Hopefully he would write that off as some reaction to him giving me presents.
"A hand-me-down," he reminded me sternly. He pulled my left wrist away from my leg, and touched the silver bracelet for just a moment. Then he gave me my arm back.
I examined it cautiously. On the opposite side of the chain from the wolf, there now hung a brilliant heart-shaped crystal. It was cut in a million facets, so that even in the subdued light shining from the lamp, it sparkled. I inhaled in a low gasp.
"It was my mother's." He shrugged deprecatingly. "I inherited quite a few baubles like this. I've given some to Esme and Alice both. So, clearly, this is not a big deal in any way."
I smiled ruefully at his assurance.
"But I thought it was a good representation," he continued. "It's hard and cold." He laughed. "And it throws rainbows in the sunlight."
"You forgot the most important similarity," I murmured. "It's beautiful."
"My heart is just as silent," he mused. "And it, too, is yours."
I twisted my wrist so the heart would glimmer. "Thank you. For both."
"No, thank you. It's a relief to have you accept a gift so easily. Good practice for you, too." He grinned, flashing his teeth.
I leaned into him, ducking my head under his arm and cuddling into his side. It probably felt similar to snuggling with Michelangelo's David, except that this perfect marble creature wrapped his arms around me to pull me closer.
It seemed like a good place to start.
"Can we discuss something? I'd appreciate it if you could begin by being open-minded."
He hesitated for a moment. "I'll give it my best effort," he agreed, cautious now.
"I'm not breaking any rules here," I promised. "This is strictly about you and me." I cleared my throat. "So . . . I was impressed by how well we were able to compromise the other night. I was thinking I would like to apply the same principle to a different situation." I wondered why I was being so formal. Must be the nerves.
"What would you like to negotiate?" he asked, a smile in his voice.
I struggled, trying to find exactly the right words to open with.
"Listen to your heart fly," he murmured. "It's fluttering like a hummingbird's wings. Are you all right?"
"I'm great."
"Please go on then," he encouraged.
"Well, I guess, first, I wanted to talk to you about that whole ridiculous marriage condition thing."
"It's only ridiculous to you. What about it?"
"I was wondering . . . is that open to negotiation?"
Edward frowned, serious now. "I've a
lready made the largest concession by far and away -- I've agreed to take your life away against my better judgment. And that ought to entitle me to a few compromises on your part."
"No." I shook my head, focusing on keeping my face composed. "That part's a done deal. We're not discussing my . . . renovations right now. I want to hammer out some other details."
He looked at me suspiciously. "Which details do you mean exactly?"
I hesitated. "Let's clarify your prerequisites first."
"You know what I want."
"Matrimony." I made it sound like a dirty word.
"Yes." He smiled a wide smile. "To start with."
The shock spoiled my carefully composed expression. "There's more?"
"Well," he said, and his face was calculating. "If you're my wife, then what's mine is yours . . . like tuition money. So there would be no problem with Dartmouth."
"Anything else? While you're already being absurd?"
"I wouldn't mind some time."
"No. No time. That's a deal breaker right there."
He sighed longingly. "Just a year or two?"
I shook my head, my lips set in a stubborn frown. "Move along to the next one."
"That's it. Unless you'd like to talk cars . . ."
He grinned widely when I grimaced, then took my hand and began playing with my fingers.
"I didn't realize there was anything else you wanted besides being transformed into a monster yourself. I'm extremely curious." His voice was low and soft. The slight edge would have been hard to detect if I hadn't known it so well.
I paused, staring at his hand on mine. I still didn't know how to begin. I felt his eyes watching me and I was afraid to look up. The blood began to burn in my face.
His cool fingers brushed my cheek. "You're blushing?" he asked in surprise. I kept my eyes down. "Please, Bella, the suspense is painful."
I bit my lip.
"Bella." His tone reproached me now, reminded me that it was hard for him when I kept my thoughts to myself.
"Well, I'm a little worried . . . about after," I admitted, finally looking at him.
I felt his body tense, but his voice was gentle and velvet. "What has you worried?"
"All of you just seem so convinced that the only thing I'm going to be interested in, afterward, is slaughtering everyone in town," I confessed, while he winced at my choice of words. "And I'm afraid I'll be so preoccupied with the mayhem that I won't be me anymore . . . and that I won't . . . I won't want you the same way I do now."
"Bella, that part doesn't last forever," he assured me.