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 Renee 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. "Renee 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'm so 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 I hadn'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 wor
ry 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 looked dangerous 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 that I 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 a vampire. 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 quick gasp, 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 a no. Hey, if you ever feel like having a life again, you could come see me. I've still got your motorcycle in my garage."